Religion

Disclaimer: I do not want this blog to become a place of contention, or of political and religious debate.  It is a selfish destination for me, a place where I can connect with people who are enduring the challenges of life, where I can post pictures and videos of my beautiful child, and I can momentarily relieve my mind of the crushing grief that rests upon it.  I hope as you read and comment you will approach it as a sacred place, as I do. 

I have felt compelled lately to write about my religion, and I have hesitated.  There are so many negative connotations, and strong feelings tied to this simple word.  My inclination is to ignore the compulsion to address it, and to speak of more neutral topics, but my thoughts on the subject won't rest.  So here it goes. 

Recently my religion (Mormonism) has been thrust into the spotlight by politicians, by comedians, and by the media.  I believe the attention is mostly positive, and generally leads to greater understanding, but occasionally I am disappointed by the portrayal of my faith.  It is so easy to focus attention on hypocrisy, on abuses of power, and on political differences.  And surely these negatives need to be seen and addressed.  However, I find myself wishing that I could remove the generalizations, the stereotypes, and the occasional poor examples that are paraded around as truth.  I long to introduce the world to the many "religious" individuals and families who have cared for us since Jonah died, and even before his death.

I wish you could meet the older couple from our congregation who came to shine Jordan's shoes before Jonah's funeral.  The husband sat on our couch, apron clad, and performed this humble act of service.  His thoughtful wife handed him his brush, and polish while we spoke softly about Jonah.  It was such a sweet experience.  They were not asked to do it, they did not receive special recognition.  They simply felt compelled to help, and I believe they were inspired by the example of their Savior, Jesus Christ, washing the feet of his disciples.  They continue to check on us, to bring us food, and to hug us anytime they see us.

I think of the many women who have come and cried with me, who ask me to walk with them, who call me, and who bring me meals.  I know these women are trying to fulfill the commitment they have made to "bear one another's burdens" and to "mourn with those that mourn."

I think of my mother's charitable sisters, who are not of my faith, but who write me beautiful messages of encouragement and kindness.  These wonderful women know how to strengthen the feeble knees and lift up the hands that hang down. 

I think about the many people around the world who have prayed for God to sustain us in our trial, and I believe He has. 

I know that there are hypocrites in this world.  There are many who would hijack religion to serve their own selfish needs, their desire for power, or to take advantage of the less fortunate.  But it is unfair to judge a religion by those who claim it, but who in fact do not live it.  Hypocrisy is its own religion.  Wouldn't it be better to judge a religion by those individuals who strive to live it truthfully, although sometimes imperfectly...Individuals like my neighbors, my friends, and my family.  

I am aware that religion is not the only source of kindness in the world.  Many people are compelled by generous hearts, inherent charity, and not by religious conviction.  But many are, and I am grateful to be surrounded by people of many beliefs, who strive to live their religion, and allow me the opportunity to be a witness to and recipient of the manifestation of their faith.  Most importantly I am grateful for my religion, and for the framework it has given me to grieve with love and hope.  

Mark 12:30-31

And thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind, and with all thy strength: this is the first commandment. And the second is like, namely this, Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself. There is none other commandment greater than these.

Doubt

I have discovered a secret chamber of my heart.  Most of my heart is reserved for beautiful ideas, for love, for joy, for optimism, for God.  But this tiny hidden portion is set aside for doubt.  I keep it there for protection, as a hedge against uncertainty.  When Jonah died my heart was shattered, so vulnerable, so hurt.  I fear the intensity of those feelings.  So I let doubt in.  Part of me believes if the rest of my hopeful heart is poisoned by disappointment this small doubtful portion will be saved.  It will be right if all goes wrong.  I often hear doubt whisper "you believe that you will have more children, but I know you might not", "you believe that you will find joy again, but I know that is impossible", "you believe the rainbow was a sign, but I know it was only sunlight and rain", "you believe in God, but I know he is only a figment."   Lately I have been clinging to my safety doubt to stop myself from expecting too much from life.   

This week I feel my heart changing.  I was blessed with an epiphany, a moment of clarity.  In a fog, I watched my niece and nephew scamper around their house, running and laughing, and occasionally bursting into tears.  I watched them and my heart ached for Jonah.  I imagined him in their midst, full of life and joy.  He was the epitome of joy.  I pictured my former self and wondered how I could have prepared for the devastation of losing him. 

If I had known Jonah would die, and if I had doubted my potential for happiness, it would not have changed my heartache.  I don't think it would be any easier.  My heart would still be broken.  The only thing that would have changed was my journey.  My 14 months of happiness and joy would have been smothered with fear, anxiety and hesitation.  I would have been a shadow of myself.  I loved Jonah with my whole heart, I didn't make room for doubt or fear.  A sprinkling of skepticism would not have lessened the pain I feel today.  My pain is intense because I loved absolutely.  

My epiphany is echoed in the inspired words of Lance Wickman, who also lost his son.    

Please know that grief is the natural by-product of love. One cannot selflessly love another person and not grieve at his suffering or eventual death. The only way to avoid the grief would be to not experience the love; and it is love that gives life its richness and meaning.


As I look toward the future I realize that the difficulties of life will happen.  My small, or large, reserve of doubt will not save me from disappointment, but it may handicap my ability to love.  It may stop me from feeling God's love for me.  It may blind my spiritual eyes.  It may keep me from playing with my beautiful niece and nephew.  It may halt my dreams and ambitions.  It may dull and deaden my heart. 

Belief is the only antidote for doubt.  I want to  renovate this small chamber in my heart.  Little by little I plan to excavate the doubt from my heart, and replace it with belief.   I will remind myself that doubt is a hinderance, not a protection.  I will prepare myself for future, for the potential depths of grief, with the knowledge that I have loved completely, without reservation, and with no more room for doubt.  

Mark 9: 23-24

Jesus said unto him, If thou canst believe, all things are possible to him that believeth.

And straightway the father of the child cried out, and said with tears, Lord, I believe; help thou mine unbelief.