Creating a New Memory with My Boy!

Many years ago, after I had moved my family to Southern California from Utah, my son Robert (BJ) and I decided that we wanted to go deep sea fishing.  I am not a fisherman by any means, but I knew that he wanted to go, and I thought it would be a chance for my son and I to spend time together and connect. (See previous posting for rationale)

As I recall, we caught a few fish; I believe they were a couple of fairly modest sized barracudas and another fish.  I can't recall where we had gone to fish, but I want to say that it was Long Beach.  I remember how sunny it was, and I remember how much I enjoyed spending time with my son.

It was about the time that he was beginning his descent into substance addiction.  For the ensuing years, he and I did not spend much time hanging out and having fun. But that time fishing had special meaning for the both of us.

Now that he has sobriety, and that memory had been so dear to both of us, we decided that we needed to do it again.  Unlike the last time when I financed the excursion, this time he would have full-time employment and money in his pocket, and he would pay for himself.

There was an ulterior motive for us going fishing which we discussed as we were making plans.  Since the climatic phenomenon known as El Nino has warmed the eastern Pacific waters, allowing warm water to extend from Baja California up to Santa Barbara (and it continues to be warm by historical standards), yellowfin tuna fishing has been "hot" all summer and into the fall.  I kept reading and hearing about how fishermen (and women) had been catching their limits, and people in the know were telling people to get fishing before the waters turned colder.

BJ and I decided that if we were to fish and to catch the tuna, we would donate our tuna to the Beacon House.  He informed me that there are guys in the rehab program who are considering careers as chefs, and that not only would filleting and preparing the tuna be a great activity for them, but that these future chefs could prepare a delicious meal or two of freshly caught tuna for the Beacon House guys and staff.

After a false start about a month ago (that's a sour memory), we got to the boat by 6:00 am, and along with 21 other hopeful people, we headed south out of San Diego.  We were with some real, hardcore fishermen (and one woman), but there were also some greenhorns like us. 

We would bide our time and wait until the captain of the boat literally yelled over the loud speaker that there was a school of yellowfin tuna below us and to "get those lines in the water."  We would grab our poles, run to the bait receptacle toward the rear of the boat, be frustrated but finally grab a live 4-5 inch bait fish and put it on the hook, run to a location along the starboard or port or back, let the 6 or 8 ounce sinker take the line to the bottom (verying depths depending on where we were), and the bait would wiggle about a yard up from the bottom.  Some hardcore types would sometimes use lures. 

Usually within two minutes, you would either get a bite or you would reel it up, throw the old bait into the water, grab (or waste valuable seconds trying to grab!) a new one and hook it, and then quickly repeat the action.

Everybody was catching them from the very start!  I caught my first one the third or fourth time I baited!  It was a nice sized one, perhaps 15 lbs.  Some short time later, BJ caught his first one.  It was so exciting; everyone was clearly enjoying this good luck! 

But I would question that anybody was feeling the deep felt satisfaction that I was feeling in spending time with my boy, and being able to provide fishes (not loaves) for the Beacon House guys.

The limit for yellowfin tuna in Mexican waters is five.  BJ caught three and I caught four, but our bags were filled with additional tuna by other generous fishermen to get us to our limit of five, by noon!  My left arm would get tired as I wrestled with the tuna to get them up to the surface, but I recall only losing one.

But I didn't lose the "one" that I was fishing with!  My son BJ is clean and sober, and he was very happy to be able to provide work and food for his guys at the House.  Ironically, he is now vegan and will not be able to eat what he caught.  I love my boy!

There we are on the top left!

Love

It seems that events sometimes occur in my life that cause me to reflect on existential concepts of my life.  One concept that appears to be recurring in my psyche recently has been the the multifaceted aspect of love.  I considered how in the world to briefly write about such a profound subject, a subject that each reader will view through their own life's lens, and as such will likely be their interpretation of what I am writing and not necessarily what I want to portray.  I still don't know how.  So all I can do is to write about what has been happening and what I am introspectively thinking and how I am feeling, and hope that whatever comes out will be meaningful for me and for you. the reader.  It's the only way I know of at this point.

Some of these disparate recent events include some challenging psychotherapy sessions, particularly with certain couples, landmark events in the lives of my children, being asked to speak at Church on Easter Sunday, reflections on songs that the SCMC and I sang on Easter Sunday, discussions with my wife, a renewed connection to nature, viewing a new Christian movie just out called Heaven Is For Real.  The latter is based on a book written by the father of a young boy who nearly dies and reports to the father that he went to heaven.  Attending funerals in recent months has increased my love for my life and for each day that I continue on this planet. And celebrating my 36th wedding anniversary was very emotional as well.

I am becoming aware that the reason that I enjoy doing psychotherapy and life coaching work, is to a great degree because I see these people as sons and daughters of God, and as such see them as my equals.  I believe that because I love myself, and am loved by God, that they are worthy of my love and care.  When I see these, my fellow travelers, struggling with themselves or significant others, I want to help them.  I attempt to help them to love themselves, not necessarily by anything that I might say, but rather, to facilitate their journey of introspection.  

I find that I struggle inwardly when I see clients, children and relatives, or anybody, for that matter, struggle with their life and their circumstances.  As I get to know them, I instinctively find myself wanting to help them.  It is very difficult for me to see criticism, defensiveness, contempt, and stonewallling with some clients.  They seem unable or unwilling to look inward at their own issues, and choose to focus on their partner's issues.  All that I can do is to point out the problem with their outward focus, teach correct principles concerning looking at themselves, and then hope that they "get it."

I desire that they learn from my knowledge, and occasionally, from my similar life experiences--because, I believe, I care what happens to them.  My challenge as a therapist is to share appropriately--to know and feel when they ready to hear what I know and what I have experienced.  Often, they are clueless as to what they are doing and as to their own motivations.  But that's fine; I have been clueless in the past as well and was ready to learn when life experiences brought me to that teachable moment. By giving myself grace, I try to extend grace to them. I earnestly attempt to not judge them.

Which brings up an aspect of love that is counter-intuitive.  Sometimes, in the right circumstances, the loving thing to do is to judge someone.  I am compelled at times in my therapy sessions to judge someone by telling them their thinking is flawed or even irrational, and to not tell them for fear of a negative reaction, is not showing love.  By not saying something, it becomes about me.  

Over four years ago, when my wife and I asked our son to leave the house for violating a house rule of not using drugs or drinking alcohol in our home, it took every bit of willpower to enforce it.  I had to judge him at that point, and while it broke my heart to send him away knowing that he would likely become homeless, I had to do the loving thing: what was best for him as opposed to what would make me feel better.  And what was best for him was to experience the consequences of his behavior, which I had not been allowing him to experience.  By not doing the loving thing at that time, I would remove an opportunity for growth and for eventually becoming. 

Such judgments can be a slippery slope, however, and one must have great integrity as to one's motivations.  I am learning that lesson as I watch my children sometimes make decisions that I would not make, and challenge my motivation for my judgments.  Are these judgments about me?

I have attempted to access this integrity as I have analyzed my feelings about same-gender attraction or so-called same sex marriage.  I struggled for a time with what I had believed and what practice my Church had inculcated and was judgmental of them, but when taking time to learn about, to appreciate, and ultimately to do what I feel is the loving thing, I became an LGBT Ally.  It is best for them if I care about and love them and not judge them, regardless of what doctrinally may be swirling around.  This has been a big transition for me.

Wanting to keep this blog somewhat secular, I will just say that I felt God's love deeply during my worship during the recent Easter season.  I have posted the entire talk I gave on another blog of mine: redashisdisciple.blogspot.com.  My feelings about deity are very much a significant part of who I am, and those feelings seem to be intensifying as I age.

As witnessed by my recent posting about my senses, and in particular, about hearing and seeing, I love being able to observe and listen to the world around me.  I try to not to take these abilities for granted.  And as stated above, I don't take my safety or my living yet another day for granted either, and express love and appreciation to God each day for His kindness and love.  

I am discovering again that as I give love through service to my clients, my family, and in particular, my wife, my ability to love increases.  It felt really good to make arrangements and to pay for a nice anniversary dinner at a nice restaurant.  It felt good to have a nice, beautiful bouquet of flowers waiting on our table as we sat down.  It felt good to arrive home and to show her the video presentation that I had worked on and helped produce celebrating the day.  I felt great love for her as I carried out these celebratory services.

To love and to be loved.  What great gifts!


    



  

 

 

The Gay Law of Chastity

Here is another article passionately written by a confused LDS woman who really appears to want to be obedient to what she has been taught growing up in the Church, but who seems to be a victim of inconsistencies in the practices of the institutional Church.  She presents thoughts that I find very compelling.  And while some people think that people who commit suicide are mentally unstable or who are evil, she paints a picture of the despair she and many LGBT members of the Church feel, most of whom have considered suicide at one time or another.  I don't see her as either mentally unstable or evil, but rather, suffering from hopelessness and despair at the choices she is being forced to make.

The Gay Law of Chastity

By Hermia Lyly 

It’s been about three weeks since I met with my bishop (congregational leader) and sat numbly in his office while he told me I can’t take the sacrament because I have a girlfriend.  Yes, I know it was silly for me to have even the slightest hope of remaining worthy to take the sacrament while I, a woman and lifelong Mormon, have a girlfriend. Like many LGBTQIA (lesbian, gay, bi-sexual, transgender, questioning, intersex, asexual) members, I’ve read the Church’s stance on homosexuality dozens and dozens of times: “The experience of same-sex attraction is a complex reality for many people. The attraction itself is not a sin, but acting on it is” (mormonsandgays.org).  I was raised to see same-sex relationships as wrong and wicked. I’ve been told time and time again that the only temple worthy union is between a woman and a man. 

Yet the official stance didn’t fit with my understanding of loving Heavenly Parents and an inclusive Plan of Happiness.  Why was I raised to want an eternal companion and family above all else, then told that my “special mission” was to remain celibate for life?  Why did my Church criticize the Catholic Church for asking their priests and nuns to be celibate, using the argument that “it is not good for man [or woman] to be alone” (Moses 3:18, Abraham 5:14), and then tell me that celibacy was my only option if I wanted to remain a worthy member?  These questions swirled in my mind as my bishop forbade me to take LDS communion.  I tried to maintain my composure.  Maybe, I thought, he simply misunderstood:

“So, you’re saying that even if my girlfriend and I were to only hold hands with each other—no hugging, cuddling, kissing, or anything else—then the simple fact that I was pursuing this relationship with her would mean that I was breaking the law of chastity?”

“Yes.  As a woman, if you are actively pursuing a relationship with another woman then you are breaking the law of chastity.”

I felt my heart sink.  Here was a man whom I had trusted with my secrets.  I had told him that I am queer and have a girlfriend. For the most part, he was understanding.  I asked him tough questions about the Church’s stance on gay marriage, and I was surprised that instead of calling me to repentance for questioning, he had agreed with many of my beliefs.  It was for these reasons that I was even more hurt by his assertion that I was unworthy to take the sacrament, even if my girlfriend and I kept the law of chastity that is given to heterosexual members.

At this point I need to take a break in my narrative to explain my goals for this post.  First, I hope to share an authentic, heartfelt experience about what it’s like to be a gay Mormon in love. Second, I will address the difference between the gay law of chastity and the straight law of chastity.  It’s often fruitless to make a case for whether or not the LDS Church can abide gay marriage or not—either you believe it can or you believe it can’t. It’s not my intent to change your mind.  Instead, I want to simply share my experience as a fellow human, and hope that it can open a useful space for conversation and introspection.  Regarding the second goal, I believe it’s high time we admit that there is a huge difference between the law of chastity that we expect straight members to follow and the law of chastity we expect gay members to follow.  As I will explain later, they are not the same and they are not equally difficult to follow. For this reason, I will refer to the two separate laws of chastity as the gay law and the straight law.

Back to the scene in my bishop’s office.  I could feel my heart sinking as he told me I had to break up with my girlfriend in order to be worthy to take the sacrament.  I had entered his office so full of hope;  for about a year and a half I had guilted myself out of taking the sacrament because I was ashamed of my homosexual feelings, desires, and actions. 

Through prayer, study, introspection, and clinical counseling, I had begun to escape my self-hatred and accept myself as a queer daughter of God.  I began to see my sexuality as a blessing, and my relationship with my girlfriend as wholesome and healing.  I’d had great hope that if I discussed my emotional and spiritual journey with my bishop, he would encourage me to take the sacrament again so I could have the added strength that came from weekly renewing my baptismal covenants.

“Would you like to take the sacrament?” my bishop asked.

I didn’t know how to answer such a question.  Did he honestly think I was enjoying the burden of not taking the sacrament?  Was he trying to use the ordinance as a bargaining chip to make me break up with my girlfriend?  Or did he really not understand how much his little question meant to me?

“Not anymore,” I muttered.  I didn’t see his response, because I had to leave before the weight of his question crushed me.  I thanked him for his time and began to walk out, but he stopped me and asked if we could meet again and talk.  I tried to focus on his question, but I couldn’t. My life, my belief in a benevolent God, and my trust in sympathetic church leaders was caving in, and I had to escape.

There’s a quiet little alleyway behind the church that’s just private enough for a desperate young woman to call her girlfriend without fear of anyone overhearing.  I called my girlfriend (for the sake of the story we’ll call her Helena) and sobbed while she tried to convince me that I was still a worthy and loved daughter of God.  I sure didn’t feel like I was.

As I left the alleyway and made my way home, I remember walking along some of the very busy streets that I live by and thinking about how simple it would be to step out into the traffic: not only could I escape a homophobic culture that forced me to choose between my faith and my love, but I might even be able to rid myself of my sexuality.  After all, many Mormons—my mother included—tell me that they believe homosexuality is only a trial of this life, and that just as God takes away our defects when we die, he would take away my homosexual desires and replace them with heterosexuality.  I’m sure they thought they were comforting me by assuring me that my trial was temporary.  But like many gay Mormons, hearing that I could get rid of my homosexuality by killing myself only made suicide look more appealing.

Miraculously, my despair only lasted for a couple days.  I somehow refrained from throwing myself headlong into traffic for long enough to realize that if I was going to continue along my path as a Mormon who refused to choose between her religion and her girlfriend, I needed more support than going to counseling once a month and complaining to Helena over the phone whenever I was upset.  As wonderful as Helena and my counselor are, I couldn’t maintain my spiritual, emotional, and mental health if I only had two other people to talk to.  Luckily, I remembered hearing about Wendy Montgomery, a gay rights activist who also happened to be a Mormon.  In a moment of extreme boldness (or awkwardness, really) I contacted her on Facebook and sent her a long message about my situation.  I wish I could spend the rest of this post talking about how Sister Montgomery took me under her wing and showed me a welcoming world of loving Mormon members who are also LGBTQIA allies.  But, like a Book of Mormon prophet, I don’t have room to share “even an hundredth part” of the hope, love, and reassurance that these Mormon allies bring to my life. I will say this: if you are a gay Mormon or ally and you need a community who will accept you and love you for who you are, trust me. There are people who would love to help you.

I’d like to say that this is my happy ending.  After all, it’s great to not be dead and to have found a community of allies.  But is that really a happy ending?  I’m still afraid of being public with my sexuality and my relationship for fear of very probable retaliation.  I still am afraid to speak up when my family members fume about Satan and his minions fighting against “traditional” marriage. And I am still forbidden from taking the sacrament because I refuse to live by the irrationally strict gay law of chastity.

My experience with the gay law of chastity has led me to some very dark places.  My heart aches every time I think of another gay brother or sister who seriously considers leaving the Church or killing themselves because they cannot live up to its impossible demands. The LDS Church says that they welcome and love gay members, but given the current gay law of chastity, this only seems to be lip service.  If we really want to show gay members that we love them and respect them as fellow children of God, we need to consider the following:

1)      The gay law of chastity isn’t clearly explained.  Think about it.  How many lessons and talks have you heard on the straight law of chastity?  How many articles have been printed in the New Era and Ensign to help members understand the purpose and requirements of the straight law of chastity?  Now ask yourself how many times you’ve had a lesson on the gay law of chastity.  Really, the only information we have about the gay law of chastity is what is at mormonsandgays.org—“The attraction itself is not a sin, but acting on it is”—and the section on homosexual behavior in the Church Handbook: “If members feel same-gender attraction but do not engage in any homosexual behavior, leaders should support and encourage them in their resolve to live the law of chastity and to control unrighteous thoughts.”

This may seem to be clear-cut, but is actually quite confusing.  How is a gay member supposed to separate their sexuality from the rest of their identity?  What if a gay young man decides he likes to bake cupcakes, dance ballet, wear pretty bracelets, and otherwise deviate from twentieth-century Western masculine gender roles?  According to the gay law of chastity, if these behaviors are a result of his homosexuality, then he is breaking the law of chastity.  What if my sexuality plays a role in the way I walk and carry my body? Again, just by moving my body I would be breaking the law of chastity because I was acting on my sexuality.  Do we realize how absurd it is to ask someone to not act on their sexuality?  Essentially, we are telling gay Mormons that if they can’t pass for straight, if they can’t completely mask the gay, they are unchaste. Furthermore, we are also implying to all members that sexuality is a button that can be turned on and off, or a part of our mind that we can cut out and kill if it doesn’t act the way the Church wants it to.  This view of repressing homosexuality is dangerous because it encourages members to see their sexualities as evil or problematic instead of natural and healthy. By teaching our gay members that their sexuality is a bad thing that should be ignored or destroyed completely, we reinforce unhealthy views of sexuality and damage the sexualities of all members.

2)      It isn’t universally enforced.  In some regions and countries, bishops tend to be a bit more lenient in their interpretation of the gay law of chastity, and are kind enough to give the same law of chastity to all of their ward members, whether they are gay or straight, male or female, rich or poor.  Therefore, if an activity would not be against the law of chastity for a heterosexual member (such as holding hands with their significant other), then it would not be against the law of chastity for a homosexual member either.  Luckily, my girlfriend lives in one of these regions.  However, there are other places in which bishops—like mine—take a stricter approach to interpreting the gay law of chastity, and make it their responsibility to determine whether or not a gay member is “acting on it.”  Does it make sense that my personal worthiness as a gay Mormon depends on geographical location?  This would be akin to saying that it some geographical regions, YSA bishops encourage dating, while in other regions YSA bishops discourage and penalize it.  This is an alarming inconsistency, and surely cannot be a strength to the Church or reassuring to its members.

3)      Statistically, the majority of gay Mormons choose not to follow it.  This argument is a bit more tenuous than my others because there have been so few reliable, academic studies of the gay Mormon population.  I only know of one academic study of gay Mormons: “Exploration of Experiences and Psychological Health of Same-sex Attracted Latter-day Saints” conducted by William Bradshaw, Ph.D. (BYU), Renee Galliher, Ph.D. (USU), John P. Dehlin, M.S. (USU), and Katie Peterson, M.S. (USU). (If you know of any more academic studies of gay Mormons, please let me know about them in the comments.)  According to this 2011 study, only 32% of gay Mormons surveyed were celibate, and of those 32%, only 14% were celibate by choice. Some might be tempted to look at these statistics and assume that gay members are just more sexually deviant than straight members.  But this viewpoint leads us to judgment, not understanding.  If a commandment has an 86% failure rate, then maybe we need to revise the commandment, not chastise gay members for not being “righteous enough.”  After all, in Mark 2:27 Jesus teaches that “The Sabbath was made for man, and not man for the Sabbath.”  Likewise, Heavenly Father didn’t create a huge list of commandments and then say to himself, “Gee, it’d be great to create some sort of creature that could obey all these.”  Rather, He created us—His children—first, and then created commandments that we could all follow, and could improve us and help us grow: “but God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able” (1 Cor. 10:13).  If a commandment has only a 14% success rate, then it does not seem to fall under the category of commandments that everyone can follow and that can help us grow.

4)      The gay law of chastity operates on a dangerous all-or-nothing mentality.  Many bishops use a slide as a metaphor for teaching the straight law of chastity.  The slide metaphor conveys two concepts: first, that there are different levels of physical affection; second, the further you go, the more likely you are to break the straight law of chastity.  Part of the wisdom of the straight law of chastity is that it allows unmarried people to show healthy affection in ways that strengthen relationships and let off a bit of sexual steam (let’s be honest). In addition, the straight law of chastity points to marriage as the fulfillment of sexual desires, which is one reason why so many single Mormons are motivated to refrain from sexual relations before marriage.  This is a concept that’s missing from the gay law of chastity, because it ensures that gay members have NO hope of fulfilling sexual relationships.  In fact, the best metaphor for the gay law of chastity would be a large pit: all levels of affection are breaking the gay law of chastity. If holding hands or flirting brings just as much condemnation as committing adultery or fornication, then there is little incentive for a gay Mormon holding hands with his boyfriend to refrain from premarital sex (besides, I’ve been told that sex is a lot more fun than just holding hands).  Surely we don’t mean to teach our gay members that for them, holding hands with someone of the same sex is on the same level as adultery or premarital sex.

5)      It’s a double standard, and is not equivalent to the straight law of chastity.  For the majority of straight Mormons, the straight law of chastity provides guidelines from dating to courtship to marriage.  If used correctly and reasonably, it can help foster healthy relationships, assist in building beneficial companionships, and possibly build a foundation for raising children.  On the other hand, the gay law of chastity leads to none of this.  In fact, many gay members trying to live the gay law of chastity find themselves in a catch-22: they avoid building friendships and relationships with those of the same sex because they are afraid of falling in love with them, and they avoid building friendships and relationships with those of the opposite sex because they don’t want to lead them on.  (Obviously building friendships and relationships is more complicated than this, but this is the general trend that I’ve seen.) Because of this, the gay law of chastity tends to lead to isolation instead of companionship or connectedness.  It simply isn’t fair that Mormons of one sexuality are allowed to follow a law that encourages them to love and guides them to fulfilling relationships, while Mormons of other sexualities must follow a law that tells them their love is wrong and leads them away from fulfilling relationships. 

Furthermore, how can we be sure that the way our culture constructs sexuality (the homo-hetero continuum) reflects the way God has constructed our divine natures?

Something must be done about the gay law of chastity.  At the least, we need more guidance from the Church—official guidance explaining how and why the gay law of chastity should be correctly and uniformly followed, so that personal worthiness no longer depends on geographical location.  But how do we get this guidance?

The Church listens to its members. If enough members speak up about an issue, it’s only a matter of time before they address that issue.  Too few members are willing to speak up about LGBTQIA issues.  It is our responsibility to be vocal about the injustice facing our LGBTQIA brothers and sisters, to facilitate conversations about the Church’s stance on homosexuality, and to ask our bishops and stake presidents about why the gay law of chastity is so different from the straight law of chastity.  We can’t change the way the Church operates, but we can start the conversation. We can show our Church leaders that our LGBTQIA members are just as worthy of love as any other member.

Sexuality is a fraught issue. Hawaii has just legalized gay marriage, with Illinois likely to follow. These changes come to the great consternation of social conservatives and many Mormons. The rhetoric surrounding the issue is often religious on one side, human rights on the other, with few attempts to bridge the two. Let’s build that bridge now. Let’s bring the conversation home to our own playing field—to our religion, our beliefs, our rights, our homes, our brothers and sisters.

Blessings For Others and For Me

      Maybe it’s just my outlook on life.  Maybe I’m just getting more philosphical     in my advancing years. Maybe I just feel privileged to be alive.  But now that it has been nearly three weeks since the auto accident that could’ve taken my life, I feel the need to reflect on the blessings that I and others have received as a result of my misfortune.  This posting will be divided into two parts: the blessings others have received, and the blessings I have received. 

I want to thank so many folks who have sent warm wishes and thoughts to me in a variety of ways as well as those who have prayed   on my behalf and have placed my name on temple prayer rolls, something that LDS people do which accesses the faith and prayers of those attending the temple.   And most of all, I wish to thank God for preserving my life—again—and now for beginning the    process of healing my body.

OTHERS 

-    Given the opportunity to think about someone besides themselves

·    Given the opportunity to feel empathy or sympathy and thus be concerned about me, or the opportunity to be concerned that someone they know is concerned about me

·    Given the chance to offer service by sending cards, flowers, dinners, visiting me, or calling me

·    Given the chance to reflect on the fragility of life

·    Given the chance to appreciate what it’s like to not feel physical pain or soreness

·    Given the opportunity to realize how blessed/lucky not to have been involved in such an accident

·    Given the chance to verbally interact with friends, associates,  or family about me and my situation, and often with Ann

·    Given a reason, or yet another reason, to connect with God on my behalf, through prayer or fasting

MYSELF

·    Given the opportunity to learn to be dependent, to rely on others, to feel gratitude

·    Given the chance to realize how blessed I was to have good auto and health insurance

·    Given the opportunity to see how well our health system can work and how well trained doctors and nurses can be

·    Given the opportunity to see how well first responders do in such a triage situation 

·    Given the realization of how blessed I am to live in a country in which there are first responders that arrived quickly

·    Given to be able to access pain control medication

·    Given to know again that physical suffering allows me to appreciate the times when I don’t feel pain or soreness

·    Given to know how much suffering I saw in the hospital and how blessed that I only had some fractured ribs with some bumps and bruises

·    Given the realization that God preserved my life and has allowed me to continue living

·    Given to know again how God is involved in the details of my life and the lives of others

·    Given to know again the power of Priesthood prayer

·    Given to know again the power of my personal prayer

·    Given to know the blessing of having friends and family who are concerned about me

·    Given to know again the constant, unwavering love and caring of my siblings and their spouses

·    Given to know again the constant, unwavering love and caring of my children, and my grandchildren for “Mumpa” or “Pumpa”

·    Given to realize again how blessed I am to have such a wonderful, caring, protective, thoughtful wife

All of these blessings occurred to quite a few people because one person was distracted for a brief few seconds by a stinging wasp and ventured unknowingly and unwillingly into my car’s path.  I have no doubt but that God knew that was going to happen, since I have faith that He is all knowing.  He must have known that the person whose vehicle hit mine, his family, along with my family, friends, acquaintances and people who know of me but who do not know me personally--and I--needed some of the blessings listed above.  What a loving, gracious, merciful God He is!

·       

Trying to Let Go

Yesterday, a friend of mine got a tattoo and sent a text to show it to me.  I am pleased that he sent it to me; I am quite confident that I was one of the first people to see it on him.  The tattoo, prominently placed on his left chest, is of the three intersecting circles, circles used by industry to connote that something is radioactive.  He had first gotten a temporary henna tattoo of the circles to determine what kind of reaction he might receive to such an adornment.  He talked to me and others about its implications, and at length decided to get a real one. 

Not a lot of my friends have tattoos.  Nor are many of my friends gay.  But he is now tattooed, he is gay, and he is also HIV-positive, and is a wonderful person.  I care for him.

Reflecting back on my earlier years, I believe that I have not always been so open-minded.  My sheltered and religious upbringing in Utah kept me somewhat insulated from “the world.”  I was really innocent when I was sent to Argentina as a missionary for nearly two years, and only slightly less so raising a family in conservative, homogenous Utah.  I remember that  I was attracted to my wife partly because she was a “California girl,” and I thought that California girls were exciting and different.   I think that moving to California in 1994 was, in part, a conscious move on my part to expand my horizons and to succeed in the “real world.”

Since being sent my friend’s picture, I’ve been pondering this ongoing transition in my life.  Being surrounded by a little bit of everything here in Southern California, and now being in a profession that demands open-mindedness, it is quite something to me that I have come so far.  I find that I can be comfortable in many environments with many different types of people.  What is changing within me?

I recognize that humanity can be open-minded without spirituality, much less a belief in God.  I am grateful for such open-minded people in many lands doing so many good deeds out of the goodness of their hearts and their desire to help others. They are, for the most part, an inspiration to me. 

But for me, I have adopted a paradigm, a belief system if you will, that springs from a spiritual understanding.  I consider that I am no better and no worse than anybody else on the planet.  More importantly, I truly believe that God is no respecter of persons; that He loves everyone equally. 

I believe that He sees me and all of humanity as His children, and as a perfect loving parent, He loves every one of those children, no matter their station in life.  As a parent myself, I care for my four children.  I have tried to love them as best I could, whether they’ve made good or bad choices.  He does that perfectly.

If He loves everyone the same, how can I be better or worse than anybody else?  Should I consider myself worse than my brother Tom whose six children are all active members of the Church?  Should I consider myself better than him because I have a Bachelor’s and Master’s Degree and he doesn’t?   Does God love me less than people with gifted intellects and talents, or less than LDS Church leaders?  Does God love me more than the refugee escaping from war and bloodshed, or more than the man asking for a handout on the off-ramp or on-ramp of the freeway?  Is it possible that God loves me more than my newly-tattooed friend who is gay and is HIV-positive?

NO!  And if He doesn’t consider me better or worse, and He respects all humanity equally, why shouldn’t I do the same? 

I believe that relationships are either horizontal or vertical.  I have come to the conclusion that by making one’s relationship vertical—where there is a better and a worse, a higher and a lower—we physically distance ourselves, or emotionally distance ourselves from one another.  I believe we do that because of anxiety or fear we have of the “other” person, either consciously or subconsciously.  We do not understand “them” and don’t want to.  We do not feel comfortable being vulnerable with “them.”  It is easier to be judgmental and keep our distance so that we don’t have to engage with “them.”  I would propose this to be one of the main reasons why there is war and bloodshed all over God’s earth, why there is prejudice and bigotry, why there has always been a lot of unneeded pain and suffering in the world. 

By working to make one’s relationships more horizontal through surrendering our preconceived notions and being vulnerable—no easy thing to do, to be sure—we can experience great understanding, great humility, great caring, great empathy.  It is becoming quite freeing for me to begin to lose the chains of judgment.  And while I believe that there are some really bad people on the earth, I must be prudent in my judgments of them.

Asking understanding of those who read this blog who do not come from my LDS spiritual orientation, I believe that Jesus Christ, the Savior and Redeemer,  descended below all things in the Garden of Gethsemane and on the Cross at Calvary, so that He might have a more horizontal relationship with us, even though He is God.  I believe that because He took upon himself flesh and dwelt among us, He perfectly knows our pain, our sorrows, our fears, our anxieties.  And again, if He achieved and possesses perfect love and understanding, if He loves people equally, no matter how good or how terrible, rich or poor, black or white, gay or straight, why shouldn’t I attempt to do so as well if I’m trying to be like Him?

I am nowhere near where I ultimately want to end up in this regard.  My journey is full of missteps and judgments.  But, as my blog title indicates, I am in transition.  I am trying to let go.