Sunday Spotlight – Tinesha
Tinesha is a BYU student, studying Sociology and French. She plans on becoming a criminal lawyer or a researcher, perhaps teach at a community college on the side. When she’s not busy with school, Tinesha can be found running, reading, writing, blogging, or learning Latin. She enjoys dresses, red lipstick, the Northwest, and cheeseburgers. Tinesha also speaks out about Mormon feminism and race. She shares some of her experiences here with Ordain Women, and how it has impacted her life.
How did you discover OW, and what encouraged you to submit a profile?
My friend talked openly about Ordain Women when she joined, and I was very intrigued. However, at the time, I was nervous about what kind of backlash I would face at the job I had at the time.
I’ve always believed in women’s ordination, so I prayed a lot about whether I should openly join OW. I felt very strongly about joining and speaking out, so I finally went for it and submitted my profile.
How did your friends and family react to you posting a profile?
My parents and especially my siblings were so supportive. My younger sister and brother feel the same way I do, and they were really excited about it. They all believe that there is no reason that gender or race should hinder your progress and options in the LDS church.
My close friends were also very kind. There were a lot of friends that didn’t agree, but they were happy that I was speaking my truth.
What is your current calling and level of activity in the church?
I’m an active member. I don’t have an official calling currently, except as a visiting teacher.
Can you share what it was like to participate in an Ordain Women Action?
I did, twice actually! It was powerful and it was heartbreaking.
I went through a really hard period of my life, and I was certain I was ready to leave the LDS Church and never come back. Actually, going to the Ordain Women actions are why I’m still here. I believe in so many things, and I believe that the LDS Church needs to change and be better.
How have you shared your testimony of Ordain Women with others?
I can’t think of a specific instance, but I do know how powerful it has been to me to be able to foster healthy relationships between feminists and other women who do not agree with Ordain Women and have open conversations.
How do you see the perception of OW changing with ward members or family?
It’s so funny—I remember one time a person in my class was talking about OW and the members as if they were some creepy cult. I raised my hand and said I was a member of OW, and I remember him saying, “But you’re so normal!” He didn’t agree with OW, but we had a nice class discussion about it. So many people have such a misconception on who the women and men of OW. We are all just people, somehow tied to the LDS Church.
Can you share some of your thoughts on being a biracial woman in the church, and how that affects your opinion of ordaining women?
For me, being biracial makes me that much more inclined to push for women’s ordination. It’s interesting to me that my dad, had he joined the church just a few years earlier than when he did, would not have been able to have the priesthood. I think that’s heartbreaking, and I recognize that the struggle for people of color within the LDS Church—especially Black members, as I’ve seen in my dad’s case—is not over. It is important to me that all people are treated equally. My fight is to get equal treatment for women & for people of color.
Honoring our past,
Envisioning our future
Do it for Charlie!
Several people have asked why I have chosen to be an ally to the Ordain Women movement. My answer is always the same – “I’m doing it for Charlie.” Let me explain.
A few years ago, my travels as a legal humorist brought me to Hot Springs, Arkansas. As with any town that has a hot spring running underneath it, the people of Hot Springs are very excited about their hot water. In fact, I got the distinct impression that they were unaware that other cities had found a way to accomplish this modern miracle because complete strangers would stop me on the street and practically insist that I enjoy one of their hot springs baths. And despite the fact that I normally only bathe on Saturdays, they had worn me down by Thursday of that week and therefore, I reluctantly made an appointment at the Arlington Hotel Spa.
Upon arrival, I was greeted by Charlie, who explained that he would be my “attendant.” He handed me a robe, a towel and a pair of slippers and asked me to follow him. We went into a small room that simply consisted of a large metal tub and a wooden stool. Charlie turned the knob on the tub’s faucet and out poured water from the hot spring.
As it churned and bubbled in the tub, I shouted to Charlie, “That looks really good. I think I am going to enjoy this.”
He shouted back, “I believe you will, Mr. Carter.”
For the next ten minutes, we repeated this conversation several times because after each such repetition, I expected Charlie to depart the room, so that I could disrobe and hop into the tub. Sensing my frustration, Charlie finally explained that he would “attend” to me during the bath, as that was part of the “Deluxe Package” I had charged to my hotel room bill.
Now, you will find this hard to believe, but up until that point in my adult life, I had not been bathed by a complete stranger. In fact, I wasn’t even sure of the proper etiquette or protocol. Being in the south, I suspected that it consisted of talking about sports, bass fishing and elk hunting, but I didn’t know for sure. What I do know for sure is that you’re not going to be able to ignore a “stranger bath” altogether and you will talk to this person about something.
Needless to say, Charlie and I became fast friends. One thing that aided in our bonding process was the fact that he was an African American gentleman about my father’s age. As we became better acquainted, I learned that he was not originally from Hot Springs, but rather Little Rock, Arkansas. As I did the math in my head, I realized that he was likely in Little Rock at the time of that epic school desegregation struggle. Out of curiosity, I asked if he was part of that movement and he confirmed that he had graduated from Central High School a few years after those brave little boys and girls had first entered under the protection of armed federal troops and the Arkansas National Guard.
I quickly became sick to my stomach because I realized that my spa experience was all wrong. I was the one who should be bathing Charlie. It is because of his courage that I am able to travel the country, charging spa packages to the organizers of the events at which I speak. In fact, I owe everything that I have to Charlie and the thousands of nameless and faceless people who were willing to face down angry mobs, police dogs and water cannons to fight for the rights of equal access to transportation and places of public accommodation that I so often take for granted.
And so I resolved right then and there, that I would pay back their sacrifice in either one of two ways. I could either run around the country bathing old black men. Or alternatively, I could “pay forward” their efforts by lending my assistance in the fundamental work of humanity – the progressive elimination of the distinction between us and them. For now, I’ve decided to go with Option #2 – to work towards equality for all of God’s children and what better place to start than in our beloved church?
And while the sisters of OW certainly don’t need my assistance as a man in this Church, I think that my experience as a black man in this Church could provide a helpful perspective, particularly for our beloved brothers and sisters who have yet to grasp the need for gender equality in the Church. After all, less than 40 years ago, I would have been denied not only the priesthood, but even the blessings of the temple. And while this is something that we have tried to forget as saints, the rest of the world has not forgotten it; particularly black Americans.
As I mentioned earlier, I’m currently African American. In fact, I’ve been black almost my entire life (I don’t usually count the five years that I lived in Boston). And not only am I black, but the same is true for both of my parents. In short, I was raised in a predominately black household. Furthermore, some of my very best friends are black. In short, I know A LOT of black people. And without exception, they were all shocked that I joined the LDS Church four years ago.
I’ve undergone quite a few “interrogations” over my conversion. Interestingly, none of my inquisitors asked questions about the reliability of the Book of Mormon or the validity of our claims to the Restoration. In fact, very few of them had even heard of Joseph Smith and most thought that Brigham Young was the son of founder of Brigham’s Ice Cream in New England. However, every one of my friends and family knew about the priesthood and temple ban, and that our church was pretty much the last church in the modern world to get the memo on equality. As a result, just about every one of these interrogations started with, “But I thought Mormons didn’t like black people?,”, “How could you join such a racist church?”, and of course, “Why are you still drinking Diet Coke?”
I’ve come to realize that this isn’t an issue that white saints are often confronted with because people are usually too courteous to ask them such questions. A decent person simply doesn’t ask someone, “So why were your parents and grandparents such racists?” Instead, a decent person (or alternatively, one of my friends and family) will reserve that question for me. After all, it wasn’t my ancestors who were doing the oppressing, so I’m less likely to be offended by the inquiry.
Of course, over four years, I’ve learned ways to deflect the question. “Now, come on, let’s be fair now. The LDS Church changed its policies in 1978. And sure, that was a good 15 years after passage of the Civil Rights Act, but it was only in the fourth season of The Jeffersons. By the time they replaced the other Lionel with the good Lionel, the LDS Church was fully on board with racial equality.” As you might expect, this approach has yet to be successful in easing their suspicions about the church, but it has resulted in some interesting debates on which actor was the better Lionel.
In all seriousness, despite the fact that it has been almost four decades since the lifting of the ban, most people of African descent still see us as “that racist church.” As a result, they are about as likely to consider our message of the Restored Gospel as George Jefferson was likely to consider opening up a dry cleaning store with Archie Bunker. Tragically, millions of God’s children will likely have to wait for the hereafter to consider the fullness of the Gospel. This is something that we saints need to seriously consider in connection with the issue of ordaining women, because we run the same risk of being remembered as “that sexist church” 40 years from now.
The rest of the world is inching closer and closer to gender equality. Every year, more women assume roles as CEOs, university presidents and even military generals. In fact, at present, the person most likely to be the next President of the United States is a woman. In such an event, our current priesthood restriction is going to look downright absurd. I certainly don’t want to be the one trying to explain to my mother how a woman can be the single most important figure on planet earth, but the Lord can’t trust her to pass out bread and water on a Sunday morning.
And while many of our brothers and sisters sincerely believe that we must wait on the Lord to make changes in His Church, it’s likely that He is waiting on us. In response to members of the Christian community who were asking him to be patient in waiting for civil rights, Dr. King replied:
“Change does not roll in on the wheels of inevitability, but comes through continuous struggle. And so we must straighten our backs and work for our freedom.”
It seems to me that we must do our part and struggle to get ourselves mentally and spiritually prepared for the inevitable ordination of women. In the Church’s most recent essay on the priesthood ban, it speculates that perhaps one of the reasons that it took so long for the Brethren to receive the 1978 revelation was because the saints weren’t ready for racial equality.
Well, we will have no one to blame if we miss yet another wave of change because of our own complacently. So let’s get ready, saints. Let’s do it for Charlie! And let’s also do it for our pioneers, whose courageous acts of sacrifice made life different for us today. It is incumbent upon each of us to speak up. Change is not inevitable; we must put our collective shoulders to the wheel.
Honoring our past,
Envisioning our future.
Sean Carter, the author of this post, is on Ordain Women’s Social Media Committee.
On the sidelines.
I have a close friend I grew up with whose husband became mentally, emotionally and physically abusive towards her after several years of marriage. He eventually was arrested for the physical abuse and began treatment for a variety of mental illnesses he suffered from.
He met with his stake president during this process while he and my friend temporarily separated. He was not allowed a temple recommend, nor to use his priesthood for a set amount of time (my recollection is that it was a six month repentance process). During this time, their oldest daughter turned eight and wanted to be baptized. Because it was important to this man to baptize her, they chose to postpone the ordinance until his stake president allowed him to perform it himself. My friend explained her husband’s frustration at the treatment, and that he felt it was unnecessary to bar him from baptizing his child over an “argument” between he and his wife that “got out of hand”.
I stand in awe of my friend, a spiritual woman who has shown exceptional faith since we were young together. While her husband was angry with the six month time frame when he was not allowed to use his priesthood authority, his righteous wife has never been able do any of the things that he so eagerly awaited the return of. Because the punishment for a wicked man in this church is the same as the reward for a righteous woman, I feel moved to ask for change.
My own son turned eight at the end of 2014 and was baptized by my husband. My husband is a wonderful man and I had no issue with him performing the baptism. I did however, notice several major discrepancies between our participation that day, even though we have both been equally invested in raising and caring for our son in every other way.
I had planned to ask my dad and my father in law to be the witnesses to the baptism, but forgot to ask them in advance. When it was time for my husband and son to enter the font, my bishop asked me who would be serving as witnesses, and I quickly motioned to the two of them to go up front on either side. Neither of these men knew anyone presiding at the baptism, and it occurred to me that I could have literally pulled any man off the street into the stake center that day to serve as a witness. I didn’t have to prove that they held the priesthood, were worthy, or even a member of the church. Checking that a child goes completely under water is not a priesthood ordinance. Why do the witnesses have to be men? What about me, his mother? If a woman was literally the first witness of the resurrection of Jesus Christ, I believe a woman could be allowed to witness at a baptism. Even that small participation on that day would have meant the world to me.
After the baptism, we went to another room for the confirmation. The empty chair awaiting my son was front and center, so I sat down directly in front of it, determined to be as close to him as possible during this important event. Unfortunately my bishop (non-maliciously) picked up that chair and moved it to the opposite side of the room right before the blessing. He was simply making more space for the men who would stand in the circle, but inadvertently excluded me by doing so. I was sitting with my two younger daughters and a small niece at that point, and there were no available chairs to move to anyway. I stayed where I had originally sat down, mildly disappointed.
Almost immediately after the blessing started, my five year old daughter started crying. She was trying to draw a Minecraft character that her brother liked on a card the primary presidency had passed out, but couldn’t make it look right. I tried to hush her and told her to wait until after the blessing was over. She became more upset, and begged me to draw it for her as I tried to quiet her down. Her cousin and little sister both started wiggling around at the same point, and my daughter was clearly on the verge of a hysterical meltdown right in the middle of the prayer. I whispered, “hand it to me and I’ll try to draw it”, and hoped that would calm her down. Instead she saw I was only holding her card and her voice became high pitched as she started to cry again, “I need you to draw a creeper for me for Benjamin!”. I tried to draw a “creeper”. Unfortunately, I don’t know what a creeper character looks like, and as my daughter saw me pretending to draw a made up character, she became even more upset and cried, “you’re ruining my card for Benjamin, and that is not a good creeper!”
The next thing I knew, I heard my husband say “Amen”. I’d tried so hard to carefully make myself a part of that day, but I still missed almost all of the blessing my husband gave. I looked at the men who stood in the circle shaking my son’s hand, and realized my son didn’t even know the counselors in the bishopric, both who were up there. Men who my son had no connection to stood peacefully and heard every word of his blessing. As his mother, I sat in a chair across the room and tended to children, missing it almost completely. Over years of attending baptismal services, I’d seen other moms not hear their child’s confirmation and swore that would not happen to me too. But it did.
There has to be a better way. I don’t think loving Heavenly Parents want mothers to be on the sidelines on such an important day.
Honoring our past.
Envisioning our future.
Sunday Spotlight – Lydia
Today’s Sunday Spotlight features OW supporter Lydia. Thank you Lydia, for opening up and sharing more of your story with us.
Who are you and what are you up to?
I work in Marketing. I’m a single mother of 1 girl. I enjoy reading and meeting new people. And I like being outside when the weather isn’t freezing.
What is your connection to Mormonism?
I was raised by converts who joined the church while in Uganda. Then we moved to Utah when I was young and I have mostly lived here, right smack dab in the midst of the Mormon corridor.
What are some of the things you love about the LDS church?
I remember always having loving adults take a sincere interest in my life through the Young Women’s program. And to this day, many of my best friends were brought to me by the church.
What are some examples of inequality you see in the Church?
I think the single sisters experience a large degree of inequity because they do not have priesthood power. I think this contributes to a power play in the sexes that impacts dating and marriage experience. It leaves women at the mercy of men. It’s complicated, but it’s ultimately dangerous, frustrating, and damaging to place women in such an unbalanced dynamic.
In my years in the YSA and mid-singles wards, I’ve seen women in extreme loneliness encouraged to stay single lest they give in to the love of any man who isn’t a priesthood holder. I’ve seen women in terrible marriages encouraged to stay with their horrid husbands because they might otherwise never have the priesthood in their homes. I’ve seen the priesthood being used as a power play for men during dating. Aside from all of this, the statistics indicate that there really are far fewer priesthood holding males than there are worthy sisters.
I’ve seen women get used and exploited. Something I think is unfortunately similar to the way women got used and exploited in the early days of Mormonism.
I think these serious issues would be resolved with gender equality, including female ordination.
What prompted you to submit your profile?
Too many women I love are counting on this institution to look out for their best interest.
I had to submit a profile because I don’t think it can look out for these women’s best interest if women aren’t equal.
What gives you hope?
My daughter. She is 8 and already recognizes inequality between genders. She asks huge questions and she will not be second class. I have an inkling that she is not alone.
Honoring our past,
Envisioning our future.
We love The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints
Dear any LDS Member that disagrees with Ordain Women,
Over the last week Ordain Women supporters have been sharing our little love notes to the church with each other. You see, we as supporters, are Brothers and Sisters in your congregations. You may not know it but we’re in your Sunday School classes, we are your Home Teachers and you faithfully Visit Teach us each month. We bring you meals and you teach our kids in Primary. We are counselors in Bishoprics and Personal Progress leaders. We feed the missionaries during the week and clean the church buildings on Saturday mornings and WE LOVE MORMONISM. We love the church. We are raising our families in your communities. So while we might not see eye to eye on the topic of Priesthood Equality, we are still your family. So on this Valentine’s Day we’d like focus on the good. We’d like to focus on all the amazing parts of the church that we love. We’d like to share with you the parts that are so special to us.
I love the YW program for the strong, confidence female role models it gave me in my life. Women that sacrificed time, talents, energy, family time and emotion to cheer me on and help all of us succeed. As I was writing last night I could just hear a leaders voice in my head and felt her positive influence on me still. -JJW
I loved being a missionary. It taught me to keep going, even when I thought I was too tired to take one more step. Serving in Japan opened my eyes to a much bigger, and very diverse world. -MB
Although the church distanced itself somewhat from this with the Becoming Like God essay, my very favorite thing about Mormonism is the doctrine that we will become divine, mature, powerful spiritual adults–gods. -CR
I like that everyone gets to give sermons at church. I know that can sometimes lead to the spectacularly bad, but I like getting to know about my ward members, their family histories and their viewpoints, and gaining insights from a wide variety of perspectives.
I’m not active anymore and I married a never-Mo, but we love family home evening with our kids. -LD
All of my life I have found deep spiritual experience in music. From my early teenage years, the context for that experience was church, from playing and singing in the old June (MIA) Conference presentations to Mormon Youth Symphony, playing for the opening of the Lion House, and providing musical numbers for Sacrament Meetings. I learned to sing in harmony sitting on the chapel bench between my mom (an alto) and my dad (a tenor). As an adult I learned to play the organ when there was no one else in the ward who could play, and I spent many years playing the piano for the Primary children as well. It is to music that I turn for solace and for celebration. A simple hymn can calm my anxious heart or give joy its free expression. Music is the greatest gift the Church has given to me. -CWO
I love guidance blessing and the emphasis put on the personnal revelation. -FSD
I love my patriarchal blessing and other blessings that have been deeply meaningful to me as sources of both comfort and guidance. – CR
I will never, ever, ever forget the LDS community in North Carolina that cared for my family while my mom was sick and eventually lost the battle to cancer. They filled our home with food and company. They ran people to and from the airport for the funeral, gave strangers from thousands of miles away places to stay in their homes. That is Zion to me. -KS
I love the priesthood. Knowing that the power of God is present on the earth and is accessible. – LMS
I loved the road shows. The teamwork. The rush from one chapel to the next. Everyone setting up and tearing down in order to beat the clock. What an adrenal rush! -HSM
Perhaps what I love the most about Mormonism is it’s people. I remember last summer, I was sitting in my car, waiting for my daughter to come out of dance and I hear a knock at the window. “I know that we strongly disagree about Ordain Women. But I want you to know that we have more in common then what we disagree on. I still consider you my friend and I hope you will always consider me the same.” It was the best lesson I learned all year last year . We have more in common then we disagree on, and we are all Brothers and Sisters. What we love is YOU. My hope for the future is that we can put aside our differences and continue to build our communities with unity, friendship and faith.
Happy Valentine’s Day,
Joanna
Honoring our past,
Envisioning out future.
Joanna Wallace, is on the board of Ordain Women as Social Media Chair.
Race and the Priesthood
I joined The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints in 1993, shortly after graduating from high school. I was taught by wonderful sister missionaries who helped guide me to an understanding of the doctrines of the Church. I felt their love and the love of the family who invited me to take the discussions in their home as I began my new life as a Christian and a member of the Church. Deep in my heart I knew that joining the Church was the right decision for me. Unfortunately, as we talked, one thing stuck out in my mind as being wrong. The fact that black men were denied the Priesthood was something that I could not accept as being from God. Several different explanations were offered, many talks were read and still my soul was troubled.
Through the years, I struggled with guilt for not being able to accept this part of the Church’s history. I thought that I was lacking faith and tried to get on board with believing that this was God’s will, but my heart refused to accept it. It was wrong and I knew it was wrong and I could not talk myself out of that conviction.
In late 2013, the Church released an essay titled “Race and the Priesthood”. In that document, the Church disavowed all previous explanations for the Priesthood ban and stated, “Church leaders today unequivocally condemn all racism, past and present, in any form.” I was elated! After years of self-doubt, there it was in black and white. That unmistakable feeling inside of me was right. I vowed to listen when my heart spoke with great conviction, convinced that it was the Holy Ghost that had testified of truth deep within me.
Today, I have a similar conviction that women should hold the Priesthood and participate fully in the administration of the Church, just as Deborah did anciently. I cannot, in good conscience, ignore those feelings any more than I could when I first joined the Church and learned about the Priesthood ban. I believe that Ordain Women is doing God’s work in asking the leadership of the Church to usher in a new era in the history of the Church where all members enjoy the same opportunities. I believe that President Gordon B. Hinckley was speaking prophetically in an interview that aired on the ABC show “Compass” on November 9, 1997 when he stated unequivocally that God could change the current policy that only men hold the Priesthood in the Church. I am looking forward, with great hope, to the day when that happens.
Honoring the past,
Envisioning the future.
If only I could baptize her.
Last year as my oldest child neared her eighth birthday, my unease grew. That curly-haired girl with her jack-o’-lantern smile wanted to get baptized. But her convert Dad had gone mostly inactive nearly six years ago after becoming concerned about the way the church told its history and over its doctrines concerning polygamy.
I wondered, “Who would baptize her?” Now I knew there would be no shortage of kind, male priesthood holders who would oblige if I asked. But the question wasn’t so simple. Indeed, I knew the real question was, “Who could baptize her without making my husband feel substandard?”
In a church where Dads baptize their kids, when a father doesn’t perform this function it marks them as less than ideal – to the community, to their child, to themselves. My husband felt it was an opportunity to publicly shame him. Thus this event that was supposed to bond parent to child and welcome our child to her religious community became a tense, pressure-cooker.
At one point I remarked, “If only I could baptize her, it would solve everything.” I could see his face and demeanor relax at the idea. Indeed if mothers could baptize their children, it would save us from a lot of the awkwardness of the coming event. And wouldn’t that be a beautiful moment? If a sixteen-year-old boy in my church could baptize her, why shouldn’t I be able to – her mother, a seminary graduate, an Institute graduate & returned missionary.
Of course, I knew a change like that wasn’t happening before my daughter’s baptism. In fact, even worse, the church excommunicated a woman for asking that question too loudly just one week before my daughter’s baptism date.
While it was hard to welcome her into a community that didn’t value a diversity of voices, especially female voices, in the end, I decided to make the event as much of my vision of what a religious community should be as I could. And I realized that if I did everything, it wasn’t a community event. The bishop did allow my husband to baptize her. And he set aside his grievances with the church to do it for her. While I couldn’t baptize or confirm her, I could control who would speak, play musical numbers and say prayers by not sharing a baptism service with another family. I chose non-members and like-minded members for these roles. And I had myself give a talk too so that I could tell my daughter everything I would have in a blessing: my feelings, hopes, advice and admiration for her. I shared the things I knew to be true, as if the future of women in the church depended on it (or at least in my small corner of the world). I wanted people to sense that it was a mistake to deny women the full blessings of the priesthood, which include serving in the priesthood and not just receiving blessings and gospel ordinances from priesthood holders. I wanted them to sense that I had lots of power from my Heavenly Father to bless the lives of those around me. I was just waiting for my community to more formally recognize it.
Honoring the past,
Envisioning the future.
Kathleen, the author of this post, has a profile on Ordain Women
John Dehlin Announcement
Ordain Women is deeply disappointed in the decision to excommunicate our friend and supporter, John Dehlin, from the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. We have the utmost respect for John’s effort to create a space for church members with thoughtful questions and believe that his presence is a strength and help to our faith community. Debra Jenson, Ordain Women Executive Board Chair said, “We continue to be disconcerted by what appears to be an effort to silence members of the Mormon Church for asking questions and confronting difficult aspects of our faith. Our thoughts and prayers are with our brother, John, his wife Margi and his children, as well as the thousands of Mormons around the world who will be heartbroken to hear this news.” We look forward to a day when all members can speak freely about questions and concerns and we will continue to work toward that end.
Honoring our past,
Envisioning our future.
Caananite Women
On June 23, 2014 I answered the phone call that sent a lightening bolt through my body. “Mom, it’s excommunication,” came the voice of my daughter on the other end. Kate had called to tell me the news she received about the results of her church “court of love.” She had founded Ordain Women, which exists to ask the question I have been asking in my heart my entire life: “Why can’t women hold the priesthood?” My heart skipped a beat and my whole world was turned upside down when my phone rang that day.
Ask and it shall be given you; Seek and ye shall find; Knock and it shall be opened unto you. Matthew 7:7.
“You are not to go to the temple to worship. You are released from your calling, and cannot hold any calling,” the Bishop scolded.
“You mean I am not even worthy to wipe little kids noses in the nursery?” I pleaded.
“No, you’re not,” came his stinging reply.
He entered into a certain village and a certain woman named Martha received him into her house.
And she had a sister called Mary which also sat at Jesus’ feet and heard his word.
But Martha was cumbered about much serving, and came unto him and said, Lord, doest thou not care that my sister hath left me to serve alone? Bid her therefore that she help me.
And Jesus answered and said unto her, Martha, Martha, thou art careful and troubled about many things;
But one thing is needful: and Mary hath chosen that good part, which shall not be taken away from her. Luke 10: 38 – 42.
My heart was racing as I haltingly stepped into a church building for the first time since the day of the phone call. A person walked by and then turned around abruptly. “Why can’t you just follow the prophet?” they demanded. “I am following the Savior’s commandment to Ask,” came my hushed reply. “You’re disgusting,” were their last words as they stomped away.
The Lord doth build up Jerusalem; he gathereth together the outcasts of Israel.
He healeth the broken in heart, and bindeth up their wounds.
He telleth the number of the stars; he calleth them all by their names.
Great is our Lord, and his great power: his understanding is infinite. Psalms 147: 2 – 5
On a Saturday morning my husband spent yet another day mending our mailbox. This is the third time it has been bashed in since June 23, 2014. It had never been bashed in before. Sadly, I fear it will not be the last time.
For the first time in my life I have begun to lock my door whenever I am home alone.
And behold, a woman of Canaan cried unto him saying Have mercy on me, O Lord, thou Son of David; my daughter is grievously vexed with a devil.
But he answered her not a word. And his disciples came and besought him, saying, Send her away; for she crieth after us.
But he answered and said, I am not sent but unto the lost sheep of the house of Isreal.
Then came she and worshipped him, saying, Lord, help me.
But he answered and said, It is not meet to take the children’s bread and cast it to the dogs.
And she said: Truth, Lord: yet the dogs eat of the crumbs which fall from their master’s table.
Then Jesus answered and said unto her, O Woman, great is thy faith: be it unto thee even as thou wilt. And her daughter was made whole from that very hour. Matthew 15: 22 – 28.
I vowed to myself: Never read the comments. Never. Just. Don’t. The comments are the worst. How can Mormons, people I once thought of as imperfect yet kind and loving and striving to be Christlike, be so vile and cruel? The names they have called my daughter and false accusations they have thrown at her have been the only truly “disgusting” thing about this situation. What would be wrong with saying “Thank you for caring about these issues, but we don’t agree with you.” They choose to throw out vile epithets that like sticks and stones, do hurt. How could I not have seen these people for what they really are?
1997 interview with reporter David Ransom: Is it possible that the rules could change [and women be given the priesthood]?
Gordon B. Hinckley: [God] could change them, yes. . .
David Ransom: So you’d have to get a revelation?
Gordon B. Hinckley: Yes, but there’s no agitation for that.
The weather was threatening that day in April 2014. We gathered at City Creek park with coats and umbrellas, determined to show our dedication, to pray with our bodies as well as our spirits. God will hear us, see us. And like the Canaanite woman, we will never stop asking. Then came the hail. We began to walk and we sang as we walked. The number was stunning: at least 500, maybe more. I am not alone. My daughter is not alone. We waited for the inevitable rejection: “No, you are a woman. This is not for you.” We kept standing, we kept walking. I was soaked to the bone with cold rain, yet my heart was warm and warm tears streamed down my face. And my heart sang. In spite of all the ugliness we have faced, I was made whole from that very hour.