Why I Believe - Part 3 - The Spirit World

Part 1 | Part 2

Everyone knows I'm a Mormon. Seriously, everyone. There have been several times when missionaries have told me that some person they met on the street, usually a person I barely even know, has told them they know me. Even more often, I get messages from people saying they've offered the missionaries a glass of water/paid for their ice cream/not slammed a door in their faces/smiled at them on my behalf. (Thanks, guys!) 

What I don't think so many people know is why I believe. (Usually asked as "why I gave up sweet tea and frappes.") The simple answer is that it's true and it's changed my life - but that's not the answer anyone wants. What they want to hear is more complicated, and I can be hesitant to share those details at a holiday dinner or in the middle of the market. I'm more than happy to share in other settings, but most people don't want to come join my Sunday school class or schedule a 45 minute discussion. 

So, I've picked 5 principles of the gospel - basic things Mormons believe - that contribute the most to my personal testimony. Mormons believe a lot more than just this, most of it exactly the same as any other Christian church, but these are 5 things that I feel most strongly tie my beliefs to this specific church. 

The Spirit World 

The Spirit World was my VERY FIRST favorite thing when I was learning about this church!

When I was younger, I struggled greatly with the idea that anyone who died without hearing about Christ or who never gained faith in Him would be sentenced to spend eternity in Hell. I clearly remember a preacher describing the image of one who was suffering horribly in Hell begging those in Heaven for even a drop of water, and the people in Heaven ignoring that request. That thought has always horrified me. Who would want to be in Heaven while knowing other people are suffering and you're not allowed to help? That concept was much of what led to my disbelief in God.

As soon as I heard this aspect of the Plan of Salvation, my heart was opened to the idea that maybe one Christian church could be true.

When we die, our physical bodies are separated from our spirits, and our spirits go to a place called the Spirit World. It's a place of waiting and rest, but also a place of learning and work. From the time of our death until the resurrection, when we'll finally be judged, we'll be engaged in teaching the gospel of Jesus Christ to those who were unable to learn about Him during their mortal lives.

In the Spirit World, there are two conditions. The first, "Paradise" is for those who accepted Christ and lived His gospel to the best of their ability. The other, "Prison," is for those who did not. I think of Paradise and Prison as states of mind. I imagine that if I leave this mortal life and realize I didn't do what I came to earth to do, I'll be pretty anguished. Those who were faithful will minister to those who weren't, helping them to repent and leave that state of sorrow.

That's one of my absolute favorite things about this religion: we don't believe anyone will be doomed to suffer for eternity just because of the circumstances in which they were born. We send out missionaries to preach to people during mortality because of the great joy the gospel brings to our lives, not because we believe those who never hear about Christ will be damned.

I know that when I die, I won't have to stand idly by knowing that others are suffering for their ignorance of the gospel. I can continue to teach others of Christ's goodness and what He's done for each of them. Even after death, I can keep following Christ's example. No brother or sister who wants to return to Heavenly Father's presence has to be left behind.

More Information: 1 2

Faith Moves Me!

What an awesome weekend! 

Yesterday my friend Jordan and I went to the DC temple. The last time I saw Jordan was at her baptism in Charleston the day before I moved, so it was super cool to go to the temple with her! 

Early in the day, I noticed that my wheelchair battery seemed to be draining more quickly than usual, but I wasn't too concerned. RoboChair and I have gone 10+ miles together, so there's no way a day at the temple should be a problem. 

Right? 

Wrong. 

Juuuust about the time we got past the front desk of the temple, my wheelchair gave me the signal that it was about to die. Considering that I was parked all the way over at the visitors center and we were planning to be inside for at least three hours, that wasn't a good sign. 

By the time I got upstairs, well, "she's dead, Jim." 

Great. Here I am, half a mile from my car, with someone I haven't seen in over a year, and my transformer is giving me an attitude. 

I did the only thing a completely desperate Mormon girl can do: I knelt by the cot in the dressing room (the accessible dressing room is fancy) and said the most confident and faithful prayer of my entire life. 

Heavenly Father, I know you have the power to move my wheelchair. I just need to get through this temple session and back to my car, and then I'm good. I know you can do this and you want me to be here in the temple today, so please take care of this problem. 

Then I got up, finished getting ready, and went on with my day without worrying about it anymore. If I thought about it at all, I reminded myself, "God's got this."

Every time I turned on my wheelchair, the "no battery" signal flashed and the screen went dead, but it always kept moving. It didn't even give me any of the negative behaviors that indicate the battery is getting low. The warning beep never sounded, and the chair never stalled or slowed down like it usually does if the battery gets as low as even 30%. 

I got through that whole session, spent time in the lobby and outside talking with Jordan and Elder Blakley, made it back to my car, and went to dinner, all without a single problem from my dead-as-a-redshirt wheelchair. 

As soon as I was back in my house and within reach of my charger, RoboChair went completely dead. 

It was absolute proof to me that not only is Heavenly Father real, but He also knows and loves me. He understands the things I care about, and He cares about them too. 

If my chair hadn't miraculously kept going, nothing awful would have happened -- I could have borrowed a manual wheelchair while I was in the temple and gotten some of the missionaries there to push RoboChair and I back to my car. Not the end of the world, but it would have bothered me. Heavenly Father understood that, and even though it wasn't the most important thing anyone was praying for that day, He cares enough about me to answer the prayer I uttered with faith that He both could and would.

If ye have faith as a grain of mustard seed, ye shall say unto this mountain, Remove hence to yonder place; and it shall remove; and nothing shall be impossible unto you.

It just is.

People trying to be kind about disability often say things like "we're never given more than we can handle," "you must be such a strong person to be given this trial," and the nauseating "God gives special needs to special people."

On the other end of the spectrum, I've been told various times throughout my life that if I had more faith I would be healed, and I'm often confronted with a quote from a long-dead bigot who said being born handicapped was a punishment for not being spiritually valiant.

I'm going to be brutally honest with my feelings about this: ALL of those are BS.

ALL OF THEM.

The nice ones, the rude ones -- they're all wrong.

Disabilities aren't handed out to special people who are strong enough to "handle" them. (What does that even mean?) Nor are they given out as an opportunity to glorify God by being miraculously healed. It might sound good in an institute class, but I refuse to believe that my loving Heavenly Father gave me my illnesses just so He could look good.

Disability isn't good or bad. 

It isn't punishment or reward. 

Disability just is. 

That's not to say that living with disability and chronic illness hasn't had a great impact on my life. It has. But disability itself hasn't made me a strong person or fostered my faith, any more than being dropped in the middle of a lake teaches you how to swim.

For much of my life with disability, I was bitter, angry, and depressed. Even since I was converted and my life was changed, there are still times when I can't handle it. There are times when the thought of going to the hospital one more time, talking with one more doctor, spending one more night sleeping in the bathroom or not sleeping because of pain -- it's too much. I don't believe I was given this trial because I have superior coping abilities. Whether you want to think about it or not, YOU could handle these trials just as well as I do -- I don't use the phrase "temporarily able-bodied" just for the laughs. Anyone could endure these things and be made better by the atonement, and only by the atonement.

You don't need any special strength or patience to live with disability. All of what little strength I have comes from my decision, made every week and sometimes every hour, to put myself aside and lean on Christ. He is my strength. If you're ever faced with this, or in any other trial, He can be yours too.

(These photos are a throwback to the first time I visited temple grounds, in September 2012! Feelin' nostalgic.)

Daydreaming About a Convenient Life

Important disclaimer: I'm not saying I'm planning a vacation, so don't get excited... I'm just saying if I was it would be a pain in the butt. 

Temporarily Able-Bodied People Planning a Vacation:

I assume this is how it works, anyway.

TABP1: Let's go to Utah!
TABP2: Okay! Would you rather drive or fly?
TABP1: Idk man, both of those sound relatively convenient and unlikely to result in serious damage to very expensive and hard to replace items I need to live independently.
TABP2: Right on! Let's fly, because I know if I need to pee on the airplane I can get in and out of the bathroom. 
TABP1: Sounds good! Where should we stay?
TABP2: Oh it doesn't really matter. We could crash on a friend's couch because we never have to worry about whether we can get in and out of someone else's house, or we could stay in literally any hotel without calling the front desk with a list of specific questions about the doorways, beds, and shower. 
TABP1: Man, our life is so convenient!

People With Disabilities Planning a Vacation: 

To be fair, the TAB friend probably sounds smarter than this. They know the struggle.

PWD: Let's go to Utah!
TABP: Okay! Would you rather drive or fly?
PWD: Well, if we fly, I have to do extensive research and contact both the airports and the airline multiple times making sure they can accommodate me.
TABP: Really? Why's that?
PWD: Different airports have different rules about taking wheelchairs on planes. I'll probably have to prove that the battery isn't going to explode in mid-air, and I'll have to talk to at least three different people to be allowed to use my chair in the airport until we board the plane.
TABP: That sounds like a pain in the butt.
PWD: Oh, that's just the beginning. I'll also need to type instructions on how to take apart and move my wheelchair, and how to put it back together. When we get to the gate, I'll have to dismantle the controller myself and take it with me on the plane so the bozos don't break it.
TABP: Oh wow.
PWD: THEN to get on the plane, I'll have to depend on a flight attendant to push me in an aisle chair that I can't possibly move on my own. If I need to use the bathroom during the flight, the attendant can push me to the bathroom door, but even if the chair fits inside she isn't allowed to help me move it inside the bathroom. So I'll probably have to avoid eating or drinking anything for at least 12 hours before we go.
TABP: This is starting to sound complicated.
PWD: Once the flight lands, I'll be the last person off the plane. If you were thinking about a layover, forget it. If all goes well, the flight attendant will help me off the plane and my chair will be waiting for me, still working properly and ready for me to put the controller back on. That's unlikely, though. There's a slight chance nobody will help me off the plane at all and you'll have to help me crawl. There's also a good chance my wheelchair will be lost, disassembled, or broken, so I'll have to check ahead of time to find out if the airport will provide a temporary chair to use while we work that out.
TABP: Let's drive.
PWD: Sure! That just means we have to repeat the fun of finding a truly accessible hotel room in at least a couple extra cities.
TABP: Aren't all hotels required to have accessible hotel rooms?
PWD: According to the ADA, they are, but what a disabled person considered "accessible" is usually pretty different from what the ADA requires. Even two different people both using wheelchairs might need different things. And of course not all businesses obey the ADA.
TABP: Oh boy. Here we go again. 
PWD: So first, we'll need to make sure each hotel has an accessible room available. Many hotels only have one accessible room, so they can book pretty fast.
TABP: Okay, so we just have to find hotels with accessible rooms available.
PWD: That's step one. Next, we'll have to call each one and ask to speak with someone who's familiar with the accessible rooms. I'll need to ask some really specific questions, like how tall the toilets are and whether there are grab bars by the toilet and shower.
TABP: Aren't toilet heights and grab bars part of the ADA?
PWD: Yes, but a lot of the time those things still aren't done very well. Sometimes hotels will fulfill the grab bar requirements by putting grab bars by the sinks or on the other side of the room -- nowhere near the toilet and shower where they're needed.
TABP: That's ridiculous.
PWD: No kidding. Then I'll have to ask them how wide the doorways are. Twice now I've stayed in hotels where the doorways aren't even wide enough for my wheelchair to fit through the bathroom door. I'll ask them to have someone go down and measure them for me while I'm on the phone so there's a better chance they'll give me something accurate instead of making stuff up.
TABP: Is that everything?
PWD: Nope. While they're in the room measuring, I'll have to ask them to measure the bed height. The ADA doesn't specify anything about bed heights, so they can be pretty crazy. Most hotel beds are way too high to transfer from my wheelchair to the bed without help. I can ask them to remove the risers or take out the springs and put the mattress right on the bed frame, but if they refuse, there's nothing I can do about that. Sometimes I get a room with a couch just in case I can't use the bed at all.
TABP: This sounds almost as complicated as flying.

This picture was taken on about the 3rd day
of striking out on accessible hotel showers.
The hat was very necessary.

PWD: Not really. Worst case scenario, I can't shower for a night. At least the hotel won't break my $10,000 wheelchair or leave me stranded on a plane. Anyway, speaking of showers, I'll also probably ask the hotel to send me a picture of the shower in the exact room I'm booking. Ideally for me it'll have a tub -- other people need roll-in showers, so the best hotels have either option -- but then I'll need to find out what kind of shower bench the hotel offers to see if it's one I can use. Some hotels just stick a wooden chair in the bathtub, and some only have one shower bench so if you're not the first disabled person to check in you're out of luck for the night.
TABP: What kind do you prefer?
PWD: I personally like the ones that are attached to the tub and flip down. They're easy to use and don't slip around. As long as it's tall enough to transfer from and goes all the way across the tub, I can use it. Since we'll be staying in a lot of different hotels, it might be easier to just bring my own in the car. It'll take a while to put it together and take it apart to go in the car every day, but better that than not be able to take a shower.
TABP: Wouldn't it be easier and cheaper to just stay with a friend?
PWD: Only if we have any friends where we're going who live in a completely accessible home. I don't just need to get through the front door, I need to be able to get to and use the bathroom there too. I don't have any friends in my OWN city who live in apartments I can visit, so I really doubt there's anyone I can stay with while we're visiting.
TABP: Wow. I'm tired just thinking about this. Going on vacation doesn't sound very relaxing anymore.
PWD: Oh, it's worth all the inconveniences. I've learned that I have to plan ahead and micromanage things a little, but I've also learned to be adaptable and laugh things off. All the little crises that can happen are just part of the adventure. It's nice to daydream about a convenient life and it would be great if the world was wheelchair accessible, but I've learned to love the little challenges. Just as long as nobody breaks my chair.

A few of my favorite things

This blog is being interrupted because I've been sick for-freaking-EVER and I need to cheer myself up by thinking of things that make me happy soooo here's a list.

• Macaroni and cheese with BBQ sauce
• When missionaries also put BBQ sauce on their mac n' cheese and my family is amazed I'm not the only one -- HA! 
• Getting to take the sacrament on the actual exact five year anniversary of the first time I ever took the sacrament <3 <3 <3 
• The JOY I felt on my 5 year dunkdayversary. I wasn't expecting that. 
• Dieter F. Uchtdorf talks. Like this one. Duuuude. So good.
• Remembering that time Camille was really confused about why I asked if Dieter F. Uchtdorf was overweight #bestinvestigatorever 
• Talking with members of my stake presidency. Oh man. So good. I totally word vomited about how bad I am at my calling and he took it like a champ and told me all the stuff I needed to hear. 
• My cat, Chessie. I'm allergic to cats and I did not want to become this cat's human, but she's the boss. She's watched me sleep almost every night since I got pneumonia. If I cough too much she bites me. 

• The youth in my branch. They're some of the most amazing kids with some really serious trials. I wish I was better at helping them, but I'm grateful for the opportunity to learn from them. 
• Texting my all-time best friend after accidentally ignoring him for months and remembering that no matter how long we may go without talking and how many dumb things either of us do, he'll always be one of my best friends. 
• Trinity's absolute adoration of Stargate Atlantis (and legitimate fear of Dr. Rush on SGU) 
• The emails Elder Blakley and Trinity send each other. ("What's up Elder Dude! It's your true homie Trinity!") SO FREAKING CUTE 
• That Mormon Facebook group I accidentally helped create/became the admin of when I was a LARC in early 2012... it's the best. Srsly. I love my internet Morms. 
• PEACH PIE
• The fact that Taco Bell exists in the world even though it doesn't exist near me and I couldn't really eat it anyway... it exists, and that brings me joy.
• Ditto for Cafe Rio
• Essential oils that help with nausea
• The appreciation for the small things in life that naturally comes as a result of being chronically ill. For example, lately I feel joyful almost every time I get to go outside. 
• Talking to WVCM RMs. Even when we don't talk much, it makes me happy just to exchange a few words. Being a ward missionary in Motown was pretty much the best experience of my life and I love(d) those full-time missionaries like siblings... which I mean they kind of are... so it fits. 
• My grandma Eleanor. She's the best person I know. She's been through a lot in life but she has an adventurer's spirit and one of the most humble and loving hearts in the universe. AND I inherited my love of pranking from her. If I somehow miraculously ever have a daughter she's def going to be named after her, FYI to my highly hypothetical future hubs. 
• When my friends get married. I used to be kinda salty because a lot of Morms dump their single friends when they get married, but dude. My friends have some of the best marriages I've ever seen, and it's so amazing to see them meeting and developing relationships with the people who are going to be their teammates forever. ANNNND it's a great filter to see who really loves me because only the "true homies" stay friends once they get engaged. S'ALL GOOD. 
• Missionaries playing with puppies
• Lularoe... #obsessed and #unashamed (but not leggings. never leggings.) 
• Seeing all the changes in myself in the past 7ish years 
• When I use words like "legit" and Trin tells me I'm too old for slang 
• Unfollowing political pages on Facebook 
• Banana flavored popsicles 
• The Unicorns (plus Talyn). No specifics here. Everything about them. They're the best. 

This is not all of the Unicorns, but we've never all been together at once sooo.

Why I Believe - Part 2 - The Priesthood

Part one of this series can be found here.

Everyone knows I'm a Mormon. Seriously, everyone. There have been several times when missionaries have told me that some person they met on the street, usually a person I barely even know, has told them they know me. Even more often, I get messages from people saying they've offered the missionaries a glass of water/paid for their ice cream/not slammed a door in their faces/smiled at them on my behalf. (Thanks, guys!) 

What I don't think so many people know is why I believe. (Usually asked as "why I gave up sweet tea and frappes.") The simple answer is that it's true and it's changed my life - but that's not the answer anyone wants. What they want to hear is more complicated, and I can be hesitant to share those details at a holiday dinner or in the middle of the market. I'm more than happy to share in other settings, but most people don't want to come join my Sunday school class or schedule a 45 minute discussion. 

So, I've picked 5 principles of the gospel - basic things Mormons believe - that contribute the most to my personal testimony. Mormons believe a lot more than just this, most of it exactly the same as any other Christian church, but these are 5 things that I feel most strongly tie my beliefs to this specific church. 

The Priesthood

The priesthood is the power and authority of God to act in His name for the benefit and salvation of His children.

In my church, almost every man has been ordained to hold the priesthood. However, this doesn't mean that all those men are pastors or preachers as other churches think of "the priesthood," nor does it mean that women aren't able to access the priesthood power.

The priesthood is most commonly thought of in relation to priesthood ordinances such as baptism, blessing and passing the sacrament (communion), and giving priesthood blessings. Those ordinances can only be performed by those individuals who have been ordained to hold the priesthood. Additionally, one who holds the priesthood has no access to its power when he isn't worthy to do so. The powers of Heaven can only be used upon the principles of righteousness (D&C 121:34-45).

That same power is also available to anyone authorized to do God's work, regardless of whether they've been ordained to hold the priesthood, so long as they're worthy. I've seen that power magnified in my own life countless times as I've worked to fulfill my callings and serve the people around me.

My testimony of the priesthood is strong, and it's grown over time. For a while, I struggled greatly with the idea that imperfect and sometimes willfully cruel or negligent human beings can wield the power and authority of God. It amazes me that He trusts anyone with that gift, but I know that He does, and I'm forever grateful.

My testimony of the priesthood is mostly based on the miracle of priesthood blessings. A priesthood blessing is when one who holds the priesthood lays his hands upon someone in need of healing, comfort, or counsel and gives voice to the blessing Heavenly Father wants that person to hear. We believe that the words spoken during priesthood blessings are inspired by God and the Holy Ghost.

Just this week, I received a priesthood blessing because I was ill and needed to leave the Girls Camp where I was serving as a leader. As soon as two priesthood holders laid their hands on my head and began to speak, my soul felt lightened. I felt the Holy Ghost pour into me, assuring me of the things I most needed to know.

Another priesthood blessing that will always stand out in my memory is one of the many I received from the missionaries during my last semester of college. I became violently ill during the priesthood session of our church's semiannual General Conference - a time when everyone who holds the priesthood was engaged in a worship service set aside to spiritually uplift and nourish them. I felt bad for drawing them away, but I sent a text to several of my missionary friends. Two of them responded right away and came to give me a blessing.

Earlier that day, I had felt that I should ask a certain missionary for a blessing, but I'd hesitated to do so. It just so happened that the one who dropped everything to come help me was the same person. As he spoke, I knew not only that I truly needed to hear the exact words he had to say, but also that he personally had no idea what was happening in my life that made them so needed. The things he said weren't easy to hear, but I have no doubt they were inspired by God because He knew everything on my mind.

Priesthood blessings such as those have carried me through many difficult days in the past five years. I couldn't tell you how many I've received, but I've been touched by and grateful for each and every one. It's a tremendous blessing (HA!) to be able to hear the words Heavenly Father wants me to hear spoken aloud. I've never been blessed with miraculous physical healing, and I neither expect nor want to be. What I have been blessed with is the knowledge that Heavenly Father knows and loves me, that Christ is with me in all of my mortal trials, and that the power of God is always accessible to me.

We don't usually take photos of priesthood ordinances being performed, so all I have is stock images provided by lds.org. I am neither a beautiful young mother nor a sick little boy. 

What we did for mutual... "Let the Holy Spirit Guide"

It's been SO HARD to find ideas for youth activities for my teeny tiny branch! Now that I feel like I'm starting to get into the swing of things, I decided to start sharing what we've done each time to help out anyone else planning mutual activities for small groups.

When I'm planning an activity, I try to guess how many people will be there, but the truth is that we could have just one youth or ten. Luckily, our wonderful missionaries and branch presidency are willing to join in on the fun!

Last week, our activity was a classic blindfolded obstacle course. The branch president's wife helped set up chairs in our "multipurpose room" and the youth took turns wearing a blindfold and walking through the course. I tried not to give too many instructions because I like to see what happens naturally in this game.

The rules: 

• One person acts as the "Holy Ghost" and stands behind the ribbon, giving verbal instructions only 
• For an extra challenge, specify that they can only say the words "left," "right," "backwards," and "forwards" 
• Those who know those words in another language can easily differentiate who their "Holy Ghost" is among all the voices in the room because that's the only person speaking Spanish or Chinese 
• The person walking through the course must be blindfolded before entering the room 
• Others are told that they're "allowed" to create distractions (they get really into it) 
• For added intensity, assign one person to be the "adversary" actively trying to discourage those walking through 
• Warning: This can get really intense, so be prepared to step in if it becomes too overwhelming 
• Challenge mode: If the person walking through the course bumps into anything, he or she has to start over 
• Challenge mode: Have multiple people go through the course at once (with or without a separate "Holy Ghost" for each) 

One of my favorite things about this activity is that the spiritual lessons to go along with it are created naturally, as the youth (or YSAs, or even missionaries) interact with one another. You'll notice principles you can point out on your own, but here are two things that I've used when leading the game with different groups.

FIRST: The "Holy Ghost" has to stay behind the ribbon, but the person going through the course can go as close to it or as far from it as they want, even crossing under the line to stand right beside it. All of the distractions and the "adversary" can move around the room however they want, standing right in front of the "Holy Ghost" and trying to mimic its voice or climbing on chairs to whisper in the person's ear.

This is symbolic of how we have to be receptive to the spirit, and how the more we listen and act on its promptings, the easier it is for us to receive additional guidance and filter out negative voices. When we're far from the spirit, it can be hard to tell whether the promptings we receive are of the spirit, but as we draw closer to it and become experienced in obeying, it's easier to discern.

SECOND: Never before have I seen the people doing this actually band together to help each other. Sure, most of the time they were creepily whispering in each other's ears about how they couldn't possibly succeed and the "Holy Ghost" was going to lead them astray, but there was a cool moment where they helped each other too.

Heavenly Father didn't send us to go through the trials of mortality alone - he gave us each other. Sometimes we fall into unexpected traps and get boxed in by the negative distractions in life, and even with the Holy Ghost guiding us, it can be tough to get out. That's why it's important to have friends and family to help us find our way back to the path - or even move a few obstacles if needed.

I love this activity because it's easy, spiritual, and can be adjusted to fit a group of any size, and the youth love it because it's active and fun. Throw in some brownies afterwards, and it's always a winner.

When You're Asked to Do What's Hard

Earlier today, I had lunch with the new missionaries in my branch. We talked about the youth and worked on our summer plan for youth Sunday school and mutual. And I felt so. dang. inadequate.

Lately, I feel that way a lot. I know I'm where Heavenly Father wants me to be, serving in the callings He wants me to perform, but I feel like I'm not good enough. It's been a very humbling year.

One of the quotes I clung to in my last two callings was Elder Maxwell's "God does not begin by asking about our ability, but only about our availability, and if we then prove our dependability, he will increase our capability." And it worked for me then.

I put as much time and effort into my callings as I could, and I saw Heavenly Father move mountains in me. Things didn't go perfectly -- there were activities that flopped, investigators who flaked, friends who fell away from the church and felt they couldn't be friends with me anymore because I gave the church so much of myself, one whole semester when hardly anyone came to institute. But overall, I felt productive. I felt like God was using me to make a difference.

This time... not so much.

I'm trying to be a good leader, teacher, and friend to the youth, but have I really been giving it my all? No. Not like I did before. So of course the miracles aren't the same. I frequently have the thought that I want to improve. I want to give more of myself to these callings. But I'm not sure where to even begin.

When I talk about this with my friends, they sometimes say that some callings are just hard and unpleasant. I believe that (please not primary, never primary), but I'm not willing to give up on this one, writing it off as a "bad experience" or "too hard." I love my little branch. I love the little group of teenagers who are trying to live a better life in the midst of a society that says their morality is immoral.

I don't know where to go from here. I don't know how to begin to do the things that I should be doing. But I do know that I want to do better, and that Heavenly Father asked me to do it because He knows I can.

There has to be a way, if I can just figure out where to start.

Sometimes

Sometimes I see all the posts where people tell their stories about what others have done to them, and I wonder if I'm doing something wrong by not writing one. I feel less alone when I read them, while also being horrified by just how many there are. It's a strange thing to scroll through an advocacy website and realize I know three of the women brave enough to show their faces with their stories. Three.

Yet none of the stories I've seen have been about a situation like mine. I wonder if I owe it to all the disabled women of the world, ridden with guilt for being a burden and not believing they can live a better life. I survived. I let myself be convinced that I didn't deserve what was done to me. I learned to believe that I don't ever have to accept being treated badly, even by the people who care for me. I finally know in my heart as well as my mind that I deserve to be treated well. Nobody can ever earn the right to hurt me by helping me with the things I can't do.

I know there are women with disabilities being abused by their caregivers, relatives, and friends right now. I know many of them believe that they deserve it for being a burden. I know many of them think they can't live without the help their abusers give them. I've been there. I know.

I wish I could reach out to every one of those women and tell them their worth. I wish I could tell them all that they're daughters of God and testify to them of just what that means. I wish I could put my hands on each of their shoulders and tell them that not only can they survive without the people who hurt them, their days would be so much brighter without them. I wish I could tell each and every one of them that no matter how many well-meaning strangers in the grocery store tell them how lucky they are to have their abusers in their lives, it's not true.

Someday I might tell the story of what was done to me, but I'm not ready yet. What I will tell, to everyone who will listen, is the story of what's been done for me.

We all have our personal Gethsemanes, but not a one of us is alone there. He who went there before us also goes there with us. And just like Him, we can leave those trials behind and move on to better things.

Why I Believe - Part 1 - Premortal Life

Everyone knows I'm a Mormon. Seriously, everyone. There have been several times when missionaries have told me that some person they met on the street, usually a person I barely even know, has told them they know me. Even more often, I get messages from people saying they've offered the missionaries a glass of water/paid for their ice cream/not slammed a door in their faces/smiled at them on my behalf. (Thanks, guys!) 

What I don't think so many people know is why I believe. (Usually asked as "why I gave up sweet tea and frappes.") The simple answer is that it's true and it's changed my life - but that's not the answer anyone wants. What they want to hear is more complicated, and I can be hesitant to share those details at a holiday dinner or in the middle of the market. I'm more than happy to share in other settings, but most people don't want to come join my Sunday school class or schedule a 45 minute discussion. 

So, I've picked 5 principles of the gospel - basic things Mormons believe - that contribute the most to my personal testimony. Mormons believe a lot more than just this, most of it exactly the same as any other Christian church, but these are 5 things that I feel most strongly tie my beliefs to this specific church. 

Pre-mortal Life 

One of the easiest ways of explaining our core beliefs is through the Plan of Salvation. Simply put, it's the roadmap to our lives, focused on Heavenly Father's plan for the salvation of His children. The first point I want to talk about is the first point on the map: pre-mortal life. 

Where did I come from? Why am I here? 

Each of us is made up of both a physical body and a spirit, or soul. Our spirits were created by Heavenly Father long before the creation of our physical bodies. Until our spirits and our bodies were joined, we lived with our Heavenly Father. We knew him well, and we also knew one another. Everything was pretty much hunky-dory. 

Like any good parent, Heavenly Father wanted to see His children maximize our potential. During our pre-earth life, He taught us as much as we could understand, preparing us for everything that would come next. There were some things, though, that we just couldn't understand for ourselves until we had the opportunity to leave our Father's presence and experience mortality. So, life happens. 

This is obviously a huge simplification, and if you want to know more of what we believe, I'd be happy to explain. 

The concept of pre-earth life is one of the first things that drew me to this faith. It just makes sense to me. When I was learning the gospel, there were a lot of things that felt familiar, like I really already knew them and I was just now being reminded. There have been people in my life who I've met and felt like I've known them for ages, especially my sister. 

The notion of having existed premortally and having chosen to live this life also helps answer a lot of questions I've always struggled with in other denominations, like why some people are born with disabilities and other handicaps like extreme poverty. The main answers to those questions that I've gotten from other religions seem to be (1) stuff just happens to certain people for no reason, (2) some people are pre-destined to have less faith (or something) and thus are being punished in some way, or (3) we're all punished for Adam's sin. (That's a whole other can of worms.) 

Learning that I lived as a spirit with knowledge of what trials I would face in this life, and that I agreed to them with faith in Christ to redeem me from them, answered those questions I had wrestled with for my entire life. 

My belief in the doctrinal principle of pre-mortal existence is so strong that I simply can't imagine believing in any religion that doesn't teach it. I know that I have a Heavenly Father who knows and loves me perfectly. I know that I once knew Him well, although my memory of Him has faded. I know that my personality, inclinations, and spiritual gifts were formed before I ever took a breath, and that I inherited divine qualities from God just as I inherited physical traits from my mother and father. I know there's a purpose to this life for all of us, and there's a specific purpose for my life as well. 

I don't have to seek those answers from studying and interpreting the scriptures on my own, although they're there, and neither did I have to rely on the word of any priest. These are things that I've come to know to be true through prayer and witnesses from the Holy Ghost. 

[more information] [even more]

She is your partner in crime, your midnight companion, someone who knows when you are smiling, even in the dark.

A few days ago, my little sister fell and hurt her foot. She was inconsolable, and my grandmother heard her yelling at me while I tried to calm her. "You wanted me to get hurt! You don't love me!" The biggest fear of an adopted child, heartbreakingly expressed in a moment of insecurity. 

"No," my grandmother said softly, "Heather's loved you since the first time she saw you." I remembered that first moment with baby Trinity, a year old and staring fearfully at the strangers who would soon become family. I still feel that love, even more for the sassy 8-year-old than the sweet baby she once was. She is and always has been one strong little girl.

I remember the day I learned that a camera was the quickest way to turn her tears into a smile. I remember the first time she looked at a picture of her own tear-streaked face and squeaked, "Cute!" I cried for her the day she noticed me taking her picture and said, "Don't take my picture anymore. I'm not pretty." Later, "Take my picture off Facebook. I'm too ugly." The insecurities of womanhood begin far too soon. 

I remember, as a teenager with too many burdens and no idea of where to find hope, listening to her soft toddler snores while I wept. I wanted to die that night, just like so many others. But when I held her hand, I felt the peace I needed to get through the day. 

She came into my life, so tiny and already having survived so much, during one of the most difficult times in my 8-year battle with depression. I was a stranger to her in mortality, but I know we've known one another's souls for ages. 

As she neared two years old, I remember listening to her giggles and wondering how anyone, even a baby, could be so happy. She had tantrums like any other toddler - okay, probably more - but to me, she was pure joy. 

When all I wanted to do was lie by myself and stare at the ceiling, she would run up to me, beeping my wheelchair's horn and demanding, "Picture, Issy! Tongue out, now!" There was no saying no to that.

I remember when she began to realize that disability wasn't normal, and most big sisters weren't in wheelchairs. I remember her tears of frustration as she asked me, "Why can't you just walk?" 

Just yesterday she asked me, for probably the hundredth time, "But do you like being in a wheelchair?" 

Five years after her first realization, disability is still a big thing for her to come to understand, but she has learned that wheelchairs can be fun and that if Sissy (finally earned that beginning "S"!) can't do it with her, she can probably call some missionaries who can. 

She's also learned that the missionaries are a lot cooler than her Sissy is, anyway. I don't deny it.

Attachment in adoption can be hard, and we've had some difficult times these past few years as she's tested me, seeing if I'm really here to stay and love her forever. It's worn me down many times, but I try to remember why this little one needs to know our attachment is secure. I can't promise her that I'll always be physically by her side, but I can promise that my love will never, ever change.

I won't hear the words "Can I sit on your lap?" from her many more times, but I do hope for a lifetime of hearing "Sissy, I need to talk."

That's what big sisters are here for.

I love this little girl -- young woman -- 60 pound Southern spitfire with all my heart. No matter how we were brought together in mortality or what may happen while we're here, I know beyond any doubt that our sisterhood began long ago as our spirits were formed and will last for an eternity more.

 

honesty & hypocrisy.

Sometimes I feel like the biggest hypocrite in the world.

I have a reputation for being "real." Frequent readers of my (other, semi-anonymous) blog tell me how great it is to see someone being super-duper honest about all of the hard things in life. After I spoke at stake conference a couple of months ago, I was stopped by everyone and their brothers and sisters (see what I did there?) to be told how great it is that I was so honest and real. My two best friends in college sometimes complained about how hard it is to get me to lie about anything, even for a good cause (i.e. a successful prank).

I L O V E that reputation. Being known for being the honest one, the one who will tell it to you straight, the one who isn't afraid to tell her story... it can be pretty great sometimes.

The thing is, I don't feel that honest. There are so many things that I've only talked about with my closest friends, Heavenly Father, my priesthood leaders, and/or my cat. (Okay, not so much the cat... she has a big mouth.) Just like anyone else, I have secrets. There are things that are way too personal to share. There are many things that I'm way too ashamed of to tell, and other things I keep to myself because I worry about how they would make other people feel.

Despite what sometimes seems like a huge amount of honesty and realness, I feel as though everything I present to the world is incredibly sanitized. Sure, I'll give a sacrament talk about the struggle of coming to terms with my disability. My struggle with mental illness throughout my teenage years is fair game too. You want to hear about a really bad decision I made and how the atonement helped me fix it? I've got just the story for you. But you want me to talk about what I'm going through right now? You want to hear the stories that I haven't figured out how to wrap up in a bow? Um, I think I hear my cat calling for me.


I don't want to be a hypocrite. I know that some of my friends, reading this blog, might think that I am. Sometimes I let the little devil on my shoulder tell me that I'm just another one of those hypocritical Christians, talking on and on about the gospel while few people know what's behind the curtain. I used to hate those people.

I've realized that sometimes it's okay to keep things between myself and God. Y'all don't need to know everything. I don't have to share the things closest to my heart until I'm ready, and I don't have to put a disclaimer on my blog in flashing neon lights that says "HEY, I'M A SINNER TOO." If it benefits someone individually to know about a sin I've committed in the past or something crappy that's happened to me, I freely tell it. I'm really good at that. Someday maybe I'll be ready to tell those things to the world in a way that glorifies God and doesn't totally humiliate me. ;) But today isn't that day, and that's okay.

What I do want you to know right now:

I'm not perfect, and I don't want to pretend to be. I've made some pretty huge mistakes, and I've done things that have hurt people badly, things that I on my own could never fix. Every day, I feel unworthy of the blessings in my life and especially the opportunity to someday stand in my Father's presence. I'm absolutely blown away by a God who loves me enough to keep on forgiving me and welcoming me back despite all of the mistakes that I make. I'm not a perfect disciple, sometimes not even a good one. But I've been blessed by a perfect Savior and a perfect gospel, and regardless of my own hidden sorrows and guilt, I refuse to stop talking about Him and telling others what He's done for me.

hy·poc·ri·sy noun the practice of claiming to have moral standards or beliefs to which one's own behavior does not conform

I believe that I should be better than I am, and I encourage myself and others to reach towards a goal that we can't possibly achieve without divine intervention. If that makes me a hypocrite, that's exactly what I am.

I guess I can live with that.

OYM... just do it.

As baptized members of The Church of Jesus Christ, we're under covenant to tell others what we know. Sometimes, even for those who've spent years preaching the gospel, speaking up can be really hard. I'm as guilty as anyone of looking at someone and thinking, "oh, she has a religion, she wouldn't care about mine" or "that guy would NEVER give up alcohol." Don't ever hesitate to share the gospel of Jesus Christ with someone because you think they won't accept it. Opening your mouth can be scary. It's easy to justify not doing it by judging someone, but the truth is, not one of us can truly judge the heart of the person beside us. We never know what another person is thinking or what she's been praying for behind closed doors. 

A few years ago, I felt prompted to share my testimony with one of my neighbors. Every time I saw him, I thought about saying something, but I always brushed it off thinking that he wouldn't want to hear it. I never said a word, but a year later, he learned of the Church by other means and was baptized. I had nothing to do with it, but I was blessed by the humbling experience of seeing it happen after I decided it couldn't. Heavenly Father didn't withhold any blessings from that man because of my failure to act -- He made another way for His son to find his way home. But I learned an important lesson from it.

Watching that man soak in the gospel and make changes in his life was one of the most humbling experiences I've ever had... yet I'm still prone to do this. To tell myself "there's no way" and comfortably keep my mouth closed. To say "I don't want to be a Crazy Jesus Girl" and keep what I know to myself.

On an even more personal note, I was the kind of person who many would never expect to take an interest in the gospel.

I wasn't just an atheist, I was a LOUD and PROUD atheist. I took every opportunity to slam religion and insult people who believed. I cursed like a sailor and bragged about things my Mormon friends thought of as sins. My beliefs, my behavior, and my words conflicted with the gospel in every possible way.

Yet, deep in my heart, I wanted something to believe in.

It would have been so easy for the Christians in my life to look at me and say, "There's no way that girl would ever want to hear about my faith." Or even, "If I try to talk to her about the gospel, she's just going to argue with me." (And at times, they would have been right!)

When I was 16, I was lucky enough to have a friend who saw past the walls I'd built and recognized my potential. It took me a long time (we're talking years) to admit it, but every time he shared his testimony with me, I was left questioning my most strongly-held beliefs and yearning for more.

How many others out there are looking for truth despite outward appearances? How many people would leap at the chance to put aside their sins to gain the peace that comes from knowing their Heavenly Father?

If there's even one, isn't it worth the risk to try? 

Opening your mouth to share the gospel won't always end in a baptism -- duh! -- but I believe that someday, I'll come face to face with each of my brothers and sisters and remember the promises I made to them before this life. I don't want to be asked "Why didn't you tell me what you knew!?" I want them to know that I tried.

Young Women's Value Cards

A few days ago, I came across this post at BCC while searching for inspiration for decorating my young women's classroom. I loved the idea, but of course I wanted to put my own spin on it with a different design and quotes. So, I hopped on Canva, and this is what I came up with. 

I'm not sure what I'm going to use these for, but it was fun to explore my feelings about the young women values and learn a little bit of church history along the way. 

Faith

Jane Manning James was one of the first African Americans to join The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. You can read more about Sister James here. 

Elaine Bradley is the drummer for the Neon Trees, a pop rock band based in Utah. You can watch her I'm A Mormon video here. 

Divine Nature 

Eliza R. Snow was the 2nd General Relief Society President of the church, but she's probably best known for her poetry. The first LDS young women's organization was created while Sister Snow served as Relief Society President.

Rosemary Wixom is the current Primary General President and a former member of the Young Women general board. She's given some of my favorite General Conference talks. 

Individual Worth 

Neill F. Marriott is currently the 2nd counselor in the Young Women General Presidency. Sister Marriott joined the church at the age of 22, and she has an awesome Southern accent that's a delight to hear at Conference. 

Chieko Okazaki, a Hawaiian sister of Japanese descent, was the first non-Caucasian woman to serve in an LDS general presidency, and she's one of my heroes. 

Knowledge 

Malala Yousafzai is one of two non-Mormons I chose to quote on these cards, and is also the youngest. Malala is an 18-year-old Pakastani blogger who was shot in the head for blogging about life under the Taliban's rule and promoting education for girls. She's continued her advocacy despite threats against her life, and received the Nobel Peace Prize in 2014. 

Mary N. Cook is a former counselor in the Young Women General Presidency. She was married at the age of 37 and has served with her husband in his callings as a full-time missionary, mission president, and Asia area presidency. You can find a brief biography and a list of her excellent talks here. 

Choice and Accountability 

Barbara B. Smith was the 10th Relief Society General President of the church. She has a fairly lengthy bio on the Church's official website. 

Bonnie Oscarson is the current Young Women General President. Her official bio includes the wonderful line "She doesn't regret any of the sleep she missed while teaching seminary." That's one dedicated lady. 

Good Works 

Who better to represent the value of Good Works than Mother Teresa? It's recently been announced that Mother Teresa will be canonized as a saint in the Catholic church in September 2016. 

Silvia Allred was born and raised in El Salvador, served a mission in Central America, and then attended college in the United States. She has served as a member of the Young Women general board and was a counselor in the Relief Society General Presidency. 

Integrity 

Elmina Taylor was the very first president of the Church's young women organization. She was introduced to the church while working as a schoolteacher as a young woman.

Al Fox is a one of the most well-known Mormon bloggers and writers. She was baptized in 2009, and you can read her conversion story in her own words here. 

Virtue 

Sheri Dew is a former counselor in the Relief Society General Presidency and the CEO of Deseret Book Company. She's also been involved in humanitarian work, sending children's books to impoverished countries.

Ruth May Fox was an early member of the LDS church in England. She later moved to Utah and was an active suffragist. She served as the 3rd General President of the church's Young Women organization, and, of course, wrote the popular hymn "Carry On." You can learn more about Sister Fox in this episode of the podcast Legacy.  

Please feel free to download, use, and share these! 

All credit for the idea belongs to Tracy at BCC.  

Great pearls of wisdom

For the past 2 1/2 years, I've kept a running list of important life lessons as a note on my iPhone. All of them are things I've learned over time, through trial and error. (Read: I messed up a lot before I figured them out.) Here are some of my favorites. The last two are the best!

Pay extra for cheese dip. 
Don't pay extra for guacamole. 

This is important stuff. Cheese dip matters. The only good guacamole is free (or homemade) guacamole.

It's okay to ask for help. Even when it's inconvenient. Really. 
Don't be embarrassed.

Thanks to the missionary who basically followed me around saying this for 3 months, it finally sank in. It's okay to let others see me in the midst of a trial. It's okay to admit that I can't do everything by myself. That doesn't mean I have to tell everyone on Facebook what I'm going through (thank goodness), but I can live with it when someone sees me struggle.

Get to know the stranger who holds his umbrella over you. 

One of the best experiences I've ever had was getting caught in a rainstorm and having a freshman boy run up and insist on following me across town with his umbrella. I didn't want to let him, but the Spirit gave me a nudge. I still got soaked, but it was awesome.

It's never a bad idea to become best friends with someone you'll probably never see again after 6 months. Those are some of the best friendships you'll ever have. 

Three years of crying every sixth Thursday morning... that's only a little bit of an exaggeration. This isn't just true for missionaries, though. Life is full of transitions, but you can gain a lot from knowing someone for two weeks or six months. Sometimes you need to let go of those friendships as circumstances change, but you can take what you learned from that person forever. It's worth it.

Befriend the person whose eyes light up when you mention baking brownies. 

Sometimes you need to be reminded that the simple act of giving away baked goods is enough to make the world a better place.

If you give everything you have serving other people, your every need will be met. You are cared for in even the smallest of ways. 

I've seen this principle work in my life so. many. times. One of my favorites was finding a pack of tampons in the bottom of my temple bag the night I spent the last of my money to drive a stranger to the hospital. That's just one example of many, not all of them financial. It can be a struggle against the natural man to give the very last of what I have to someone else, but the blessings of doing so are too great to turn away.

Don't let whether you're going to church this week be a question. Just go. 

It took me  f o r e v e r  to figure this out. Even when I was super active and involved with all my callings in college, I missed church way more than I personally thought was acceptable. I knew I needed to be more consistent, but I didn't know how. At some point in my last two semesters, the switch finally got flipped. 

I stopped getting up on Sunday morning and making a decision about whether I was going to attend church. There's no longer any decision to be made; going to church on Sunday is as automatic as checking my phone when I wake up. #workinprogress Now I only miss sacrament meeting if I'm legitimately too sick to drive. No other reason. And it's great.

The Holy Ghost doesn't always give you promptings you understand. Follow them anyway. 

"But WHY!?!?!?!?!?!!!!" - my response to any given prompting 

"Oh. Thanks." - 5 minutes later

Sometimes it's okay to break earthly rules when you're following the Spirit. 

(This explanation is super Mormon specific.) There's a difference between policies and principles. The rules and policies of the church are put in place for good reason, and following them is smart. However, policies are written by human beings trying to follow principles given by God, and when it comes down to it, the principles are what really matter.

One example: Anyone who knew me well in Morgantown knows I was a fan of the missionaries' white handbook. (Newsflash, lists of rules make me happy.) OBEDIENCE MATTERS. But there were a couple of elders who I wrote to after they left with no regrets. I was prompted to keep in touch with those specific people, and I saw blessings in each of our lives from occasionally (like once every six months) sending uplifting letters. I didn't distract them from the work and maybe even helped, so... principle > policy. The policy of not writing to missionaries living in your mission is good and important, but sometimes the principle of loving your neighbor and bearing one another's burdens trumps it. 

These last two are my favorites!

Don't let pain go to waste. 

Mortal life is full of all different kinds of pain. It's unavoidable. So, this is my mantra. Every pain I endure has the power to teach me something - either something I should do differently, or some way I can help others. Some of the worst pains of my life have helped me to relieve the hearts of others who see no path back to their Heavenly Father. I've learned to embrace pain because of what I've seen it enable me to do.

Likewise,

Don't let the Savior's pain go to waste. 

The atonement is real; it's not just a hashtag. I strive to follow the Savior to the best of my ability, but sometimes I fall short. Okay, I often fall short of even doing it anywhere near "to the best of my ability." Instead of beating myself up about that, I've learned to keep in mind that this is why the Atonement happened. I won't waste the Savior's pain by either giving up or trying to redeem myself. Either of the ends of that spectrum are wrong and failing to acknowledge what Christ has done for me.

If you didn't catch the sarcasm in the title of this post, you must be new. Welcome!