Love is the Weapon of the Future

Something I know is that we are all children of God. But even though I know that I often have trouble believing it in this fallen world. Because something else I know, with every fiber of my being I know this one truth:

God is love.

So why is there so much anger in us and the world we have created if we are children of Love? Perhaps saying God is love may seem a trite oversimplification of the unimaginable greatness of God.

But is there anything more powerful, more all consuming, more sacred or life changing than love?

I'm not talking about the "love" that blindly worships anything and everything, that insists there can be no judging, no criticism whatsoever. No, that is not love - that is cowardice and lies. Christ was a perfect example of love but he guided, taught, criticized, challenged, even got angry. How can God be love and still capable of anger? I think that is a stumbling block for many in their refusal to accept the Bible as divine. They know that God is supposed to be love. Love is what we all want to worship. At our core we were born to be children of love. The youngest and innocent among us demonstrate that clearly with their natural inclinations towards love.

And so, I started to really think about the nature of love and anger. I have heard that hate and love are two sides of the same coin. You cannot know one without the other and while there may seem to be a chasm between them, it is often only a very fine line. It is tragic but true that those who often bear the brunt of our anger are those we love. That anger we so desperately throw at our loved ones is at best a cry for help from one lost in their turbulent sea of pain and at worst a selfish desire to inflict the pain that we can't escape onto another, to bring them down with us. That type of anger is evil at its core. It is the antithesis of love. And if indulged too often it can become a terrible tragedy, it can become who we are. Because that type of anger burns love - there is no room for something as wonderful and beautiful as love with something as terrible and ugly as selfish anger and pain clouding our hearts. 

Indulging in selfish anger is much like eating only sugar - it might give a temporary high that feels like power, like passion, almost like love in the intensity of it - but it will burn and leave you with nothing but a seared mind and charred conscience. It will not change anything - it will not spread love. It will only wage war and destroy until it implodes like a black hole.

Recorded instances of God professing anger, even wrath, may make us uncomfortable because we all want to believe God is love. And God is love, but love does not lie and so it will never assure you you are "perfect just the way you are" and you only have to "be yourself" to be happy. No, love challenges and changes. God's ultimate purpose is to "bring to pass the immortality of man" - to save and exalt us, but He cannot do that without some hard love. His anger is only a righteous anger - one that is not at all motivated by selfishness or a misguided attempt to assert superiority. Its only purpose is to save His children. He punishes them for sin because that is what a loving parent does. He warns, he sends his messengers, and then if all else fails, when man has become so consumed by selfish anger that all the love has been extinguished, he destroys. For God is love and selfish anger cannot exist in the presence of that kind of love. He will use whatever means necessary to save men from their fallen anger and pain, even if it means the destruction of the wicked.

We were made to love. But love does not accept evil. It fights it, sometimes with righteous anger. When motivated solely for the benefit of others anger has its place, and can indeed be loving. We must always check ourselves for any hint of selfish pain, and measure the effect of our anger - whether it will help or hurt. For example, yelling, name calling, hypocrisy, and belittling are all sure signs of selfish anger. They can only serve to harm and spread pain. Courtesy, consistency, service, sacrifice are all signs of righteous anger and love. They promote healing, even if that healing requires painful surgery and treatment to remove the cancer of evil. Love is not easy or accepting, but it is right.

Evil must be fought under the direction of God's prophet, and sometimes it even involves a sword. Even a sword can be wielded in love if it is done to protect the innocent, justly and with love predominating. Captain Moroni in The Book of Mormon is a prime example of loving, righteous anger. Never did he shed blood selfishly, always he was motivated to protect the wives and children and freedom of his people, and he earnestly sought to spare lives and end the bloody war he waged. Even in the midst of war and tyranny he fought with love. But he did fight, ruthlessly when necessary.

Thankfully, most of us are not called to make the difficult distinction between love and anger in such drastic, perilous circumstances. But we are fighting a war against evil. Every single day we must fight, and we must do it with love. Unyielding, selfless, bold.

I could never have shot a gun at another human being before becoming a mother. I would rather die myself than kill another. But I would take a life to protect my daughter and it would be an act of love and terrible sacrifice. Love does not mean being a doormat, but righteous anger will never justify tyranny or bullying either.

What I've realized is that both love and anger can be used in either a wrong or right way. When love is used as an excuse to remain in a bubble and never break outside a comfort zone, to promote blind acceptance even in the face of evil it is merely a mask for evil. And the devil is master of disguising evil with the most sacred of masks. When anger is utilized for good, is fueled by love, then it is of God. In the end, the only way we can determine whether we are being led by righteous love or crippling infatuation, by selfish anger or righteous indignation is to listen to the Spirit and remember that "by their fruits ye shall know them." 

What is Sacred if not Sex?

For the duration of this post I will be quoting quite heavily from a particular talk given by one of my favorite apostles: Jeffrey R. Holland's "Of Souls, Symbols and Sacraments." The full piece may be accessed here.

All my life I had been taught that sex was sacred. Never bad or dirty or something to be laughed about. It was only when I entered high school that I realized with horror and dismay how twisted and misunderstood something as sacred as sex had become.

I will never forget a particular instance in high school. A couple of boys were skeptically questioning my best friend and I about why Mormons refused to have sex before marriage. I immediately and boldly, almost reflexively, declared: "Because sex is sacred." I thought everyone knew that. Or at least I thought everyone should. I have never been laughed at so cruelly and mockingly as I was then. I felt humiliated because their callous laughter made my skin crawl with the mocking significance and emptiness of it. A hollow emptiness reflected in their eyes. They could not even comprehend the idea.

Could not even comprehend it.

I felt some shame because I could tell that even my Mormon girlfriend was uncomfortable and wished I hadn't said it. I didn't blame her. Their laughter had been particularly harsh. But I could not understand. How could something so true be so wholly rejected by our society as a whole?

Elder Holland compares the sins of murder and immorality, identifying immorality as second in seriousness only to murder. Tragically and unsurprisingly these two most serious sins have formed an inseparable bond in rampant abortion now being passed off as perfectly normal and harmless - back up birth control. How have we become so blind to the light of Christ? How has the devil deceived us so? Even so, at least we still have laws outlawing most murder, except for of the most innocent and helpless among us. Elder Holland gave this particular talk in 1989 though:

"No, fortunately, in the case of how life is taken, I think we seem to be quite responsible. The seriousness of that does not often have to be spelled out, and not many sermons need to be devoted to it.

But in the significance and sanctity of giving life, some of us are not so responsible, and in the larger world swirling around us we find near criminal irresponsibility. What would in the case of taking life bring absolute horror and demand grim justice, in the case of giving life brings dirty jokes and four-letter lyrics and crass carnality..."

I do believe that there is nothing Satan desires more than to see us abuse, animalize, and laugh about the most sacred gift we have been given - our bodies and the ability to create life. These are God given gifts. And just because they have been given to all men, even to animals, does not give us the right to abuse and animalize them. Far too often we see sex trivialized with:

"Any animal can have sex. It's not special. We shouldn't have to restrain ourselves. It's only natural. It's my body. But don't tell me not to destroy the body growing inside me. I'm not a breeding horse. I can do whatever I want with my body, regardless of how it might harm others or myself."

Elder Holland hit the mark when he called it a destructive "moral schizophrenia." Because it is not my body. It is a gift - a priceless gift given us by God. One that we take so very for granted.

"Our soul is what's at stake here--our spirit and our body ... The purchase price for our fullness of joy--body and spirit eternally united--is the pure and innocent blood of the Savior of this world. We cannot then say in ignorance or defiance, 'Well, it's my life,' or worse yet, 'It's my body.' It is not. 'Ye are not your own,' Paul said. 'Ye are bought with a price.' So in answer to the question, 'Why does God care so much about sexual transgression?' it is partly because of the precious gift offered by and through his Only Begotten Son to redeem the souls--bodies and spirits--we too often share and abuse in cheap and tawdry ways. Christ restored the very seeds of eternal lives (see D&C132:19, 24), and we desecrate them at our peril. The first key reason for personal purity? Our very souls are involved and at stake."

Sex is meant to bind people together. To create love and life. Is there anything more beautiful and divine than that? And yet, we use it as a weapon. We equate it with eating a meal - just a normal, trivial bodily function. We act horrified and wronged and immensely burdened when it creates an undesired life because we can not even connect the sacred act of sex with it's main purpose - to create life. Instead, it is all too often used to utterly and completely destroy countless lives and precious bodies. Soul and body tossed to the wind with a mocking, scornful laugh and shrug of the shoulders. No wonder we suffer from so many addictions and psychiatric conditions further crippling our society.

I can not conceive of anything more incredibly selfish and blind than acting like "it's no big deal" because we're too afraid and weak to confront the truth. We are not animals. We are children of God and we have a responsibility to act as such. But instead, so many of God's precious children would rather debase themselves to mere animals driven only by instinct and lust rather than accept the responsibility and immense consequences that immorality entails.

For those who might contest that marriage is but a mere slip of paper and so long as two people are committed and in love sex is healthy and right. I would contest: how can we possibly devote something so incredibly sacred to another person - the potential to create a child with them and seal our souls together - if we are not willing to enter into a public declaration and binding of our commitment, to promise our entire lives and beings to each other first?

Elder Holland summarized it perfectly when he said, "Such an act of love between a man and a woman is--or certainly was ordained to be--a symbol of total union: union of their hearts, their hopes, their lives, their love, their family, their future, their everything. It is a symbol that we try to suggest in the temple with a word like seal."

When I was pregnant I was fascinated by the type of video they show you in high school biology. The one where you watch the creation of life from conception to birth. I was in awe that something so miraculous was taking place inside of me. And for the duration of the video I had tears streaming down my face. Admittedly, I cried quite a lot while pregnant, but never before had the miracle of life struck me so intensely as it did while I was actively participating in that blessing. When I watched the DNA from the sperm unite with that of the egg to create a completely unique human being, and not just any human being, but a literal testament of the sacred union and eternal love and commitment my husband and I promised each other I was completely overcome. I sobbed, and continued to cry as I watched and felt that miracle come to life. A miracle that has my nose and my husband's smile. A literal physical union of both of us.

I truly believe that children need to feel and know that they were created out of love. Not just sex, and especially not casual sex, but love. It is incredibly empowering and beautiful.

It blasphemes not only our own bodies and the Atonement, but it mocks God's ultimate power and purpose - the creation of love and life - to take sex lightly.

"Sexual intimacy is not only a symbolic union between a man and a woman--the uniting of their very souls--but it is also symbolic of a union between mortals and deity, between otherwise ordinary and fallible humans uniting for a rare and special moment with God himself and all the powers by which he gives life in this wide universe of ours. ...

I submit to you that you will never be more like God at any other time in this life than when you are expressing that particular power. Of all the titles he has chosen for himself, Father is the one he declares, and Creation is his watchword--especially human creation, creation in his image. His glory isn't a mountain, as stunning as mountains are. It isn't in sea or sky or snow or sunrise, as beautiful as they all are. It isn't in art or technology, be that a concerto or computer. No, his glory--and his grief--is in his children. You and I, we are his prized possessions, and we are the earthly evidence, however inadequate, of what he truly is. Human life--that is the greatest of God's powers, the most mysterious and magnificent chemistry of it all--and you and I have been given it, but under the most serious and sacred of restrictions. You and I who can make neither mountain nor moonlight, not one raindrop nor a single rose--yet we have this greater gift in an absolutely unlimited way. And the only control placed on us is self-control--self-control born of respect for the divine sacramental power it is."

And so to all of those like those teenage boys who have laughed at me, or those who were never taught, or those who have shied away from the responsibility it entails I testify with unflinching certainty: Sex is sacred. And I will not stop saying it.

Skinny Girls Have Insecurities Too

I've noticed a disturbing trend lately and I'm sure I'm not the only one. In response to a culture that glorifies unnatural thinness in women there has been an angry backlash across social media and the internet. I've read women using phrases like:

"Real women have curves"

"Who even thinks being a twig like skeleton is pretty?"

"I have baby bearing hips and I'm proud of it."

"No one actually looks like that. It's disgusting."

"Eating disorders aren't attractive."

Is it? Why can't we all be beautiful regardless of our size and shape? Yes, maybe many of those women models are struggling with eating disorders and unnatural photo shop techniques. But is lambasting them in the public square as fake, disgusting, unnatural, twigs, skeletal, unable to bear children, really going to change anything? No, all this talk does is make everyone feel more insecure.

Putting someone down will never make you feel better about yourself. It never will. So please stop.

And in our haste to champion "real women with curves" we shuffle girls who are skinny and insecure about their own bodies to the side. We reassure and brush them off with the dismissive label: "but look how skinny you are, at least you're thin, you could be a model." As a girl who's always been naturally thin I would like to say: thin girls are often just as insecure in their own skin as anyone else. For most of my teenage years I lamented and agonized over not having curves. And now that pregnancy and breastfeeding have given me those envied curves I secretly worry about not staying skinny. Because for a long time I thought skinniness was my only claim to beauty - it was usually the thing people complimented. And that's not fair.

So, aside from how we insult others to make ourselves feel better, we also need to be aware of what and how we're "complimenting." Two of the best compliments I ever received are these:

1. A woman I didn't know in church came up to me and very sincerely told me I was absolutely beautiful. She didn't say why exactly, but she described how I had a dignified, regal air and she just thought my facial features were beautiful. Other than my parents, no one had ever complimented me that way. Not ever. No one had ever just looked me in the eye and said you're beautiful because you're you.

2. My then boyfriend and now husband telling me he loved my beautiful eyes and that he couldn't resist me anything when I look at him. When he said this it further confirmed that he was the one. I was always looking for a guy that would sincerely compliment my eyes, because it meant he was studying and looking at them instead of just my body.

When we compliment or focus on surface features like skinniness or curves we miss the vast person hiding underneath, often secretly insecure and desperate for love and acceptance, whether they be a size 2 or size 16. Beauty is not a contest and the world's definition is constantly in flux. We are more than our bodies. And everyone needs to know that, even skinny girls.

The Hardest Week of my Life...so far

Sleep training. Such a benign label for something that may literally be most parents' hell on earth. That may sound melodramatic, but there have been times this past week while "sleep training" my 8 month old that I felt like I was putting both her and myself through hell.

Now, I'll admit I've had a relatively blessed, easy life. It had its moments of loneliness, anxiety, depression, confusion. But for the most part I have never had to experience true grief. I have never lost a loved one. I have never been chronically ill. I have never been so humbled and purified by the refiner's fire as I have this past week while sleep training my sweet baby.

The truth is I loved sleeping with my baby for the first 8 months of her life. And if I were a single mom I might have continued to do it for as long as she would let me. I mean, what could be better than snuggling your little baby, nursing them to sleep, knowing they're safe and warm? For 8 months I told my lonely, somewhat neglected husband: "She's only this small and needy for a short time. I have my whole life to spend with you. But soon she won't need me anymore and I have to be there for her while she does."

You see, I was a staunch advocate of something called "attachment parenting," advocated by Dr. Sears that encourages baby wearing, baby led weaning, co-sleeping, nursing, etc. Anything and everything to keep babies as happy as can be and therefore parents too. And I still wholly advocate those strategies while babies are small and adjusting to life outside the womb. But at some point parents also have to be parents. They can't just be teddy bears or lifelong pals. They have to teach the hard lessons.

Now, sleep training is most definitely not for everyone. But neither is co-sleeping or getting up in the night to comfort baby or toddler for years. If a parent wants to sleep with their baby until he/she is 3 years old then that is their prerogative. But if a parent feels the need to sleep train their child than that is also their right. Neither method has been proven to cause psychological damage or sleep issues and those assumptions need to stop flying on both sides of the argument. Because in the end every parent and child is growing in their own unique situation, and a loving parent is a child's best advocate.

It was almost impossible for me to convince myself when Aria would cry - two times for an hour long off and on - that I was doing this out of love. But I was. I realized that she was chronically overtired and sleep is essential especially in infants. And I knew the only way for her to get the sleep she really needed was to learn how to sleep without me. I also realized that since she had started eating solids and was no longer exclusively breastfed I owed it to my husband to prioritize him over my biological mothering instincts.

And yet, when she cried I experienced the worst sort of mental and emotional torture - a kind of withdrawal and battering that I never could have anticipated. Quite honestly I believe I felt much like a heroine addict in withdrawal - every cell in my body cried out against it. There is nothing more heartbreaking that I have experienced than watching your child suffer. I prayed harder than I ever had that angels would be there to comfort her and that she would still love me in the morning. I experienced panic attacks, anxiety, depression, nausea and lonely longing for my baby. When she was finally quiet I would close my eyes to sleep but I would still hear her crying. I honestly wondered if I was losing my mind.

It was only after I asked my husband to give me a blessing that I finally realized in my darkest, sleepless hour I realized that my suffering and aching for my baby could hardly compare to the suffering our Heavenly Father must have felt in sacrificing His only, beloved and completely innocent Son for the good of the world. I can not even begin to imagine the terrible heartbreak that must have been His to bear when his Son asked that the terrible cup be removed, and yet willingly submitted to unimaginable pain and suffering. He could have stopped it. He could have saved Him. Christ was completely innocent. But He didn't, and because He let him suffer for the greater good we all have hope. Finally I understood, just a tiny bit more, the immense love God has for us that He would allow His innocent Son to be offered as a sacrifice. And yet, even He, our God, had to turn away at the end when Christ asked "Father, why hast thou forsaken me?" I've heard it postulated that God in His all knowing wisdom thought it a necessary part of the Atonement that Christ learn to experience the lowest of all - the complete withdrawal of God's spirit. But as a mother I would also postulate that He could not bear to even watch, so difficult was it for God to let Him suffer and suffer alone.

As is true with most of the difficult trials we experience or even choose to experience in life, I can say now that it was worth it. I did it out of love and our entire family is better for it. I imagine Heavenly Father would say the same about the Atonement. For all those who have felt forsaken by God, unloved and alone, left to endure their personal Gethsemane alone, never forget that just because God allows us to suffer does not mean He is not the loving, ever watchful Father of our spirit. Parenting means making sacrifices and teaching the hard lessons. He will send angels to comfort you, but He has to let you learn the hard way sometimes. And because He allowed his Son to suffer the pains of all Christ knows just how to comfort you if you will give your pain over to Him.

Aria finally sleeping peacefully in her own bed, with her ever trusty creeper by her side.

Why I Still Love Twilight

Yes, I am actually talking about these books:

I am NOT talking about these laughable movie adaptations:

Please, I beg of you, do not confuse the two.

I'll admit, I was a teenager when I first became obsessed with Twilight. And the obsession bordered on the unhealthy. But I actually resisted the lure of this vampire romance for quite some time. I had friends and my very own parents doing their utmost to persuade me to give them a try. My own mother was feverishly reading the book at red stoplights on the way home from picking me up from school before I was finally convinced. (Admittedly, she was a very busy mother of six so this may have been one of her few chances to read at all.) Much like you are probably doing at this very moment, I rolled my eyes and inwardly scoffed at the idea of a vampire romance - no way could some twisted predator/prey relationship really be romantic. All that could ever be was abusive, demeaning, and all kinds of stupid. Right?

Well, Twilight proved me wrong and I loved every moment of it. I just recently re-read the book in preparation for this post. I am now a 21 year old mother and English major college student. And in spite of literally every English professor I have ever had disparaging and mocking them at some point, I still thoroughly enjoyed them. Those books will always occupy a very cherished place in my heart despite the popular backlash against them. 

Common Accusations Against Twilight

1. Bella is empty, weak, stupid, infatuated, vapid, spineless. She teaches girls to be the same and to give everything, even their very lives if necessary, into the hands of the first handsome guy that comes along. She promotes misogynistic, abusive relationships in the minds of impressionable young girls. 

First of all, Bella stands up for herself quite well. She turns down other boys before Edward and she does so with grace and confidence. She has a defined, intricate character that yes, many girls can relate to. And she does entrust her life to a dangerous vampire that may very well end her life or otherwise put her in danger. BUT, these critics miss the fact that Edward cares for her just as immensely and unconditionally as she does for him. He respects her, protects her, and exerts excruciating effort to resist  and prevent what some might call the inevitable - her death, by his hands or any others. He succeeds with quite a lot of sacrifice, if not more, on his part than she does. 

2. Regardless, it gives girls completely unrealistic expectations for men - that they have to be incredibly sexy, perfect, cultured, talented, rich immortals. They'll be crushed and completely unprepared for real life relationships.

First of all, Twilight is in essence a fairytale. And fairytales by their very nature promote unrealistic expectations such as frogs turning into princes, fairy godmothers magically creating ball gowns, a beast humanized by a woman's love, a princess woken by true love's kiss, just to name a few. And yet, we're fascinated and enchanted by these types of stories because they whisper to us an eternal truth that we never can forget:

Love can conquer any evil. 

And secondly, girls should absolutely be taught to find and settle for nothing less than their Prince Charming, their Edward, their Mr. Darcy, etc. There is no such thing as a perfect man - and Edward is anything but perfect. But I believe there is such a thing as a perfect match or soulmate, but that's a topic for another post.

3. It's poorly written, unbelievable, and ends anticlimactically.

I'm not going to brazenly assert that Twilight is an equal match for classics such as Jane Eyre and Pride and Prejudice. The level of writing is certainly no match for either of them. But it still ranks among them in my heart of hearts. And why? Because much like these classic romances it champions the classic truth: that we always have the choice to choose good, to choose love, no matter the impossibility of our circumstances. And for me at least, it did so just as convincingly if not nearly as eloquently, as any book I've ever read.

For those dissatisfied with the lack of a huge fight at the end, I would say that you're missing the entire point. The books were never about the blood and action. The relationships that somehow manage to survive any and every obstacle were the climax.

I'm not saying everyone can or even should love and enjoy Twilight. But I refuse to be ashamed of my unabashed esteem for it any longer. They're my favorite fairytale. So take the scoffs and scorn somewhere else please.

Musings on Motherhood: Why Perfectionism is a Dead End

Perfectionism is my Achilles' heel. It always has been.

I distinctly remember resolving at the young age of 7, in a Primary lesson preparing us for baptism at the age of 8, that I would remain perfect and pure after my baptism. We were taught that any sin could be washed away by baptism, but that afterwards we would inevitably make mistakes that required change and repentance. Repentance sounded so scary, so humiliating. No way was I going to deal with the messy effects of sin, guilt, and the arduous process of repentance. I was going to stay perfect; simple as that.

Of course, I was crestfallen when shortly after my baptism I got frustrated with and snapped at my sister. The first of many, many post baptism sins. It took me many long years and I'm still learning that perfection is not something you be by sheer force of will, and nor should you waste precious time and energy harping on past mistakes.

Being a perfectionist will never, ever make me perfect. Only God can do that.

Demanding perfection of ourselves accomplishes nothing. Either we will begin to believe the lie - that we are perfect and hence our own God, our own universe. Or, we will define ourselves by failure and collapse into ourselves in a destructive cycle of anxiety and depression.

It had taken me 21 long years to learn this lesson: that I can not and am not expected to be perfect. That it is an arrogant, fruitless endeavor to even try. My role is to learn and to always be just a little bit better - to place my imperfections on the altar, to be humble enough to acknowledge and eventually overcome them bit by bit with my Savior's grace. But then, this happened:

I became a mother. My whole reason for living, for breathing, for moving, for loving shifted. I and my husband were no longer the center of our own universe. We had been given a miracle and I wanted so desperately to live worthy of her. She was tiny, helpless, and perfect. And I needed to be perfect for her because she deserved nothing less. 

I have since realized that one of the most heartbreaking realizations is in life is that no matter how much we love and desire perfection in ourselves for our children, we can never give them that. And the truth is, we're not meant to. Our children already have perfect Heavenly Parents. They do not need us to fill that role. Our responsibility is not to show them how to be perfect, but to show them how to be human. They need to learn how to acknowledge their own shortcomings and imperfections - how to be humble enough to apologize, to repent, to pick themselves up and be better the next day. If we as parents are so consumed with the heights of perfection that we fail to teach our children how to build upon and be better for their mistakes we will have done them a far greater disservice than if we let them see us at our weakest. We must be what we want our children to be and I am realizing that I would rather my daughter learn how to face the trials and realities of imperfection from me than from her own failed experiences with perfectionism.

I still pray to be the best mother I can possibly be. But I am slowly but surely accepting that I can not be perfect. I can never be "good enough" for my precious baby, but that's ok, because God is always good enough. I can only love and point her to Him. And that is all she needs from me.