Me, I'm a Mormon

For the past four years I've slowly been making my way back to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. That is to say, the Mormons. Why I left in the first place is a long story, perhaps one for another day. This is a story of faith.

I hadn't set foot in a church house for several years when we moved to Columbus, GA and I found myself in a foreign land without a friend.

Just after we arrived I announced, "I'm going to church."

When Nate asked why, I told him simply, "Because I need a friend and I know someone there will be nice to me."

The people of the Bradley Park Branch did not disappoint. My first week there I was greeted by a gaggle of friendly Southern folk--warm hellos and an invitation to lunch from Amelia Hoggan (Frankie's namesake) dispelled all worries I'd had of being far from home.

So as not to mislead I was quick to inform those I met that I was "in-active" (our church's term for members that do not attend meetings regularly, makes sense right?) and not interested in doctrinal discussion or the bearing of my testimony. After all, honesty is the best policy.

"I only need a friend" I said. They rose to the challenge. Certainly they were being used, but as they'd been fore-warned I did not lose sleep over it.

Because they were kind, I kept showing up. I guess that's the way most friendships work, but it seems particularly key in the telling of my story, because while I attended meetings week after week I began to realize that many of the talks (our equivalent to sermons) left a lasting impression on my mind. Particularly those given on the subject of eternal families.

I love my family. More than anything. Mormons believe that families can be together forever. Isn't that great? I'd desperately like to keep mine. I decided that if all it took to get to "forever" was some good clean-living and a pair of magic underwear*, you could sign me up. A life without coffee is a small price to pay for eternal exaltation with your hubby by your side.

As eager as I was to jump on that glory wagon, a few nagging questions, held me back again and again. Many were answered quickly and reasonably--even those pertaining to polygamy and priesthood authority, but the question of why we (as a church) don't support same-sex marriage was not such a one.

"The Family: A Proclamation to the World" was first introduced to the members of the church by President Gordon B Hinckley in 1995. Since then, it has served as our creed. In clear concise language the proclamation spells out exactly what it is we believe about Eternal families. Members are encouraged to to "hold fast to this great proclamation, to make it a banner... and to commit ourselves to live by its precepts."

The proclamation states:

"Husband and wife have a solemn responsibility to love and care for each other and for their children. “Children are an heritage of the Lord” (Psalm 127:3). Parents have a sacred duty to rear their children in love and righteousness, to provide for their physical and spiritual needs, and to teach them to love and serve one another, observe the commandments of God, and be law-abiding citizens wherever they live. Husbands and wives—mothers and fathers—will be held accountable before God for the discharge of these obligations."

Do I agree? Yes, I do.

"All human beings—male and female—are created in the image of God. Each is a beloved spirit son or daughter of heavenly parents, and, as such, each has a divine nature and destiny. Gender is an essential characteristic of individual premortal, mortal, and eternal identity and purpose."

Right? Of course right.

"The family is ordained of God. Marriage between man and woman is essential to His eternal plan. Children are entitled to birth within the bonds of matrimony, and to be reared by a father and a mother who honor marital vows with complete fidelity. Happiness in family life is most likely to be achieved when founded upon the teachings of the Lord Jesus Christ. Successful marriages and families are established and maintained on principles of faith, prayer, repentance, forgiveness, respect, love, compassion, work, and wholesome recreational activities. By divine design, fathers are to preside over their families in love and righteousness and are responsible to provide the necessities of life and protection for their families. Mothers are primarily responsible for the nurture of their children. In these sacred responsibilities, fathers and mothers are obligated to help one another as equal partners. Disability, death, or other circumstances may necessitate individual adaptation. Extended families should lend support when needed."

Fidelity? Check.

Providing fathers? Check.

Nurturing mothers? Check.

But "Marriage between man and woman"...only? This is where things get a little if-fy for me.

Christ told us to love everyone. It's pretty cut and dried, and definitely all-inclusive, which is why I've had a hard time wrapping my head around the idea of any exclusive clauses. We love you, but...no.

Growing up, I lived next door to a girl named Sarah**. She was anything but pretty and struggled in school because of severe learning disabilities. About a year after Nate and I were married, Sarah was engaged to a really nice guy. He committed suicide the day before their wedding.

Last summer, I called my dad in tears, demanding that he drop everything and explain to me how God could make someone gay (yes, I believe you can be born gay) and then refuse to let them be a part of His true church. (Says me.) My dad gave some standard Sunday School answer about how we don't know everything God intends for us to experience in this life, and how some people suffer trials that others don't.

He accused me of judging God.

"Because it's not fair." I wailed.

And my dad, my patient intelligent dad, replied. "You tell me how it's fair that you get to be six feet tall and beautiful with a man who loves you, and Sarah gets to be dumb and ugly her whole life."

You know dads, they don't mince words.

It has taken me a year, a whole year, to admit that my dad was absolutely right.

I don't know what's going on inside our Heavenly Father's head. I hate the idea that love might not be just love, and that all love is not created equal. Life's not fair and I don't know why.

When I left the church I decided that if I didn't believe the church was true, there probably wasn't a God either. After Jensie was born though, as I laid her down into her crib for the night I would often think to myself Watch over her. Keep her safe while I sleep.

I began to wonder Who am I talking to? I realized then that even if I didn't really know there was a God, I hoped more than anything that He was out there somewhere.

Several times, often through music and during sweet still moments with my beautiful children, I've felt impressed that there really is a God, who loves me and is indeed watching over my sweet babes as I've asked.

And so, as I type this, I put the last of my fears and questions behind me. I trust that God knows the things which I can't yet hope to understand. I apologize for my hypocrisies and shortcomings, but I can no more apologize for my faith, than I can deny it.

I'm back. And I believe.

*Magic Underwear- to my knowledge, not actually magic.

**I changed her name. You know why.