The Story Of Me

When I was little no trip to grandma's was complete without going to see some old person I was related to in some incomprehensibly complex way and usually generalized as  a "cousin".

Often there were sweets of some kind involved, so I didn't mind so much. I used my best manners as I had been warned to do, ate as many of the yummy treats as I could discreetly get into my mouth, and listened while the adults talked.

The conversation always began with an explanation of who I was. ("This is Bobbie's Daughter." "Eh?" "BOBBIE'S DAUGHTER". ) The "cousin", wrinkled and stooped with age would "Ooo", and "Ahhh" over me, which made me feel very important.

Then the conversation would sharply turn away from me and on to various ailments, marriages, births and other family news to be shared. Old pictures were inevitably pulled out and poured over, all the time pointing out who had Papa's smile or Aunt Nettie's brow. Sounds like boring stuff for a kid, but still I didn't mind.  I liked looking at the pictures and hearing the talk. I liked hearing the stories from long ago childhoods when the ancient person in front of me was like me -- still a child with all the world in front of them.

I'm sorry to say I don't remember those stories or even the names and most certainly not the relationship beyond "Cousin". But somewhere deep in my memory a vague idea was planted that wove itself into the fiber of my being.

I understood that the story of me did not begin with me.

I was a collection of parts tumbling through time, space, and generations, combining and separating again and again until finally coming to a scattering halt in me. Certainly I was unique, but the parts that made me were as ancient as human life itself.

There was something reassuring about it to me. I could almost sense those people from the pictures looking up at me, smiling and proud. It made me lift my chin an little higher.

This last week I took my 9 year old daughter on our annual visit to see Grandma and Grandpa in North Carolina -- a trip we look forward to every year.  My Mom mentioned that Mary Laura wanted to see me. Mary Laura is my Mother's Mother's Grandfather's Son's.....she's a cousin.

I distinctly remember Mary Laura from my childhood. She was gracious and poised, warm and always smiling. She was the kind of person that everyone loved, and I was no exception. So it seemed natural to take my daughter and niece to visit their "cousin" Mary Laura.

She greeted us with a smile that has not diminished with age one whit and wasted no time setting out treats for us all. We properly introduced my daughter and niece,  swapped our family news, and poured over family pictures.

When my mother saw the picture of a 9 year old Mary Laura she suddenly gasped. "Look at that!  Who does that look like?"  she pointed out. And there, staring out at me from a photograph over 50 years old was an expression so like my daughter's I had to gasp too. The brow, the smile....parts and pieces donated to my daughter. I never noticed it before.

When I was young I understood the story of me did not begin with me, but now I understand the story of me does not end with me.  I will go on tumbling through ages as this tradition, this odd little tradition, works itself into the next generation.

Reclaiming Valentine's

Do you remember when you were a kid and Valentine's day was just fun? First, you got to decorate a box or bag or something with red and pink crepe paper. Then on the big day the whole class would exchange those cheesy little cards, some of them complete with conversation hearts. You gave a card to everyone. And then you'd get a cupcake or something that someone's mom made. It was awesome!

Then we grew up and Valentine's day took on a whole different meaning. It wasn't about giving everyone a card any more. It wasn't even about getting a card from everyone. That wasn't good enough. You only wanted to get a card from that special someone, and not just a card -- no no. You dreamed about bouquets of flowers, boxes of chocolate, and maybe even a stuffed animal. (OK, at least that what girls dream about, I won't venture into what boys fantasize about that day.) The day was ruined -- a least for most of us. For those of you who always managed to have a Valentine is was still awesome, I'm guess. I wouldn't know. It seems like I spent the bulk of holiday feeling rather glum, and alone.

At least until one day while in college, inspired by Charlie Brown (as in "Well, Charlie Brown how many Valentine's did you give away?), a chum and I decided to reclaim Valentine's day and go back to the cheesy little cards. We made one for everyone we thought we might see that day, complete with conversation hearts, and spent the day passing them all out.

It changed everything. The day was fun again. Getting those silly little cards seem to make everyone's day a little brighter, but none more than my own. Although I gave out far more cards than I received that day, I felt supremely happy. I learned an important thing, not just about Valentine's that day, but about life. The quickest path to happiness and the best antidote for a glum mood is doing something for others.

I don't know why it is. It doesn't make any logical sense. You'd think if you just focus on yourself all the time you'd be sure to get everything you want and you'd be happy, but it just doesn't work that way. Giving to others brings a joy to our lives that can not be acquired through any other means. Truly happy people know this. Adolescents haven't learned this yet, and really is there a more miserable lot in this world than 13 year olds? Only through serving others can we forget our own insecurities and frustrations. And it is only through this forgetting, or losing of ourselves that we find ourselves again. I think someone else said something like that. (Matthew 16:25).

I eventually did find an "Eternal Valentine" and this morning I dropped our 9 year old daughter off to school, excited for the Valentine's card exchange today. I've tried to teach her that she will find joy through giving, but I realized this morning as I watched her toting two dozen cupcakes (with really yummy chocolate frosting I might add), presents for her teachers, and a card for each and every classmate, she already knows that. I just have to make sure she doesn't forget.

A Different Perspective of the Christian Argument

I am a Mormon and I believe in Jesus Christ. I believe that he is God's only begotten Son and that, as such, he is the Savior of the world and the Redeemer of mankind. I believe that only by him, in him and through him can mankind be saved. I have been baptized in his name and in doing so have taken his name upon myself, meaning that I try to -- although I admit I come up short many times -- do as he would have me do.

And I am not a Christian. I don't mean to depart from what leaders of my church have emphatically argued. They assert that we are Christian and I understand what they mean, and I agree. But there is a different perspective of the argument that can help us understand those people who are so adamant about not letting Mormons into the Christian tent, and to consider that perspective just seems.....well, christian.

I remember the first time someone told me that I wasn't a Christian. It completely perplexed me. The name of our church is "The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints" after all. If you look up Christian in the dictionary the definition is "Someone who follows the follows the teachings of Jesus Christ". How could anyone presume to tell me I didn't believe in him when weekly I took a sacrament to remember his sacrifice for me and to renew my desire to follow his teachings. The theoretical justification for why I wasn't a Christian seemed like so much babble to me.

But over the years I've come to better understand the doctrine that admittedly confused me when I was younger and why so many "Christians" take offense with me sharing that title with them. I think it would be beneficial to take a closer look at what "Christian" is -- not as defined in the dictionary, but by thousands, even millions of people.

About 325 years after Jesus Christ died, 318 bishops came from around the known world to settle differences that began to divide the Church. What they all eventually agreed to would come to be known as the "Nicene Creed".

The Nicene Creed is a pretty simple document, yet from it bishops and other religious leaders extracted dogma such as the Trinity, Faith without Works, an unchanging Canon of Scripture, and other doctrine that the LDS church simply does not accept as truth. But the creators of the Nicene Creed were pretty clear -- to be Christian you had to accept all of the creed as truth eternal, not just a single part, some, or even most of the doctrine. So for many people the word "Christian" and the doctrine of the creed became inseparably connected.

When Christians hear Mormons say that we believe in Jesus Christ but not in other doctrine they use to define Jesus Christ, they find it unfathomable. The Christian faith for many followers does not simply imply their belief in Jesus, it's how they see him and how they interact with him. For Mormons to change long and dearly held tenets changes everything.

It's as if someone were to claim they are Mormon because they believe Joseph Smith was a prophet but didn't believe in eternal families. Or if someone might profess that the Book of Mormon was true, but didn't believe in continuing modern day revelation. Not only would it strike Mormons as preposterous, but we'd be convinced that person had entirely missed the point.

Which makes me think that perhaps we've missed their point all these years. They've been saying "You're not Christian", and Mormon's have heard "You don't believe in Jesus Christ". In fact what I think they've been saying is "You don't believe in all of the doctrine of the Nicene Creed." To them it's the same thing. It seems strange because a word like "Christian" clearly indicates a belief in Jesus Christ and has become synonymous with kind and charitable acts. But it also implies many other things we as Mormons don't believe.

Maybe this is something Mormons need to embrace. We don't believe so many things associated with the word "Christian", why would we work so hard to be part of it? We are not like them. We don't want to be like them. (No offense meant.) So why debate so heatedly that we are? If we continue to insist that we are like them, how will people come to realize what makes us special. Maybe it's time to realize that even though all Christians believe in Jesus Christ, not all believers in Jesus Christ are Christian.

It's hard for Mormons to let that go. We so desperately want people understand how profoundly we believe in Jesus Christ. How real and tangible we believe his love for us is. We want the world to know how his atonement saves us, in every way, it saves us. To not be called by his name is... hurtful.

So if not Christian, what could we be called? Jesus himself referred to his follower as Disciples. He never used the word "Christian", which actually only appears in the New Testament three times. The word disciple appears...well more times than I wanted to count. So while I can not claim to be a Christian without much debate and controversy, I can claim without any disclaimer that I am a Disciple of Jesus Christ.

Of course, the proof is in the pudding, isn't it? Ultimately, it isn't what we are called that matters. It's what we do. If I am a Christian or a Disciple of Jesus, it's what I do with his name that I will have to answer to. I found the video below very touching. I don't know if this man would call himself Christian or not. But what he does exemplifies the teaching of Jesus Christ. Maybe if we could come to some common ground and understand each other we can spend less time talking about a word, and more time doing as he would have us do, no matter what we choose to call ourselves.

Under the Gun

While Gabrielle Giffords struggles for her life and families and communities mourn the senseless loss of loved ones, we have yet to learn the true motive of shooter Jared Lee Loughner. Meanwhile, the validity of images such as gun site crosshairs, "Aim and reload" rhetoric, and other violent metaphors are now being hotly debated.

I believe if Loughner was indeed politically motivated we need to re-evaluate the use of violent metaphors in politics and if Loughner is simply crazy and not politically motivated, I believe we need to re-evaluate the use of violent metaphors in politics. In my opinion these images of threat seem to run counter to the very idea of freedom and have no place in our democracy. Isn't the idea of democracy that you are free to choose without concern of bodily harm to yourself or others.

I'd like to ask the authors of these radical images what happened to "Do unto others as you would have them do to you"? Would you honestly want to see your hometown on a map, a place where your children live, covered with the image of a gun site crosshair (or even something that looks quite similar)? Wouldn't you feel just a little nervous, knowing there are some real kooks out there, if someone suggested, even metaphorically, to shoot you? And in those cases where something horrible does happen, such as a 9 year old girl being shot to death, wouldn't it be a comfort to absolutely know it had nothing to do with you?

Look, it's a free country. People are free to say what they want and I don't know if they are to blame if some chemically imbalanced person uses that as an excuse to go on some rampage. I don't think this is the sort of thing we can legislate.

What I do think is that politicians need to be wise about the images they choose to convey and all citizens need to be even wiser about the images the choose to respond to. Because there are a lot of crazy people out there--you know that--and sometimes all it takes is a little nudge to tip them over to the psychotic side of the fence. Guns are powerful- not bad- just powerful. They can take away a life with the slightest twitch of a finger. We need to show more respect for that power and stop carelessly using its image to further our own personal or political agendas.

In a democracy your power comes from your vote, not a gun, and if we stop believing that we've got a real problem on our hands.

Me, weighing in on the Cordoba House

Ok, here’s the thing about the Cordoba House, the proposed "mosque" near Ground Zero...

First of all, I have to wonder how many of the most embittered and outspoken critics of the Cordoba House, a proposed Islamic Center to be built two blocks from Ground Zero, even LIKE let alone have actually BEEN to New York City. (If they had they’d know that two blocks is like...practically another city) When I first moved there I was amazed, not just at the diversity, but at the ability of humans to coexist with such diversity. People who were from cultures and religions that were diametrically opposed sat next to each other on the subway, peacefully reading their newspaper in arabic or hebrew or chinese or whatever. I remember thinking the fact that the city hadn’t blown itself to tiny bits was a testament to human kind and it’s ability to tolerate someone who was VERY different, from you. I discovered that diversity and tolerance is what the big apple is all about--well, that and really great pizza. It gave me hope for us humans.

Second of all, over 50 Muslims lost their lives that day, and no, not I'm not including the highjackers. Included in that group is a young paramedic whose EMT bag was found next to his body underneath the rubble 6 months later. His family didn't know where he was that whole time because he wasn’t scheduled to work that day, but when he saw the need he went to help, and gave his life to do it.

Third of all, what WOULD Jesus do. We don’t get to pick and choose when we’re going to follow his creed. We shouldn’t do it just when it’s convenient or easy. He taught us “Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you”. He taught that because he knew THAT was the only hope this world had. So I say it’s time to put your money where your WWJD jewelry is and honestly ask yourself what he would do.

Fourth, all Muslims are no more guilty for 9/11 that all Christians are for the Inquisition. I saw a sign that claimed it was like building a shrine to Hitler in Germany. Well, you could also say its like building a church with a big fat cross on it in the middle of Jerusalem - a city that suffered unspeakable injustice during the crusades.

And finally, all of the above doesn’t matter. What’s it to me if they build the center, or don’t. I didn’t loose someone that tragic day. Ultimately, I think it should be up to families of the victims. It should be up to the kid who will never know first hand his father’s smile, or the parents who still feel a gapping hole in their hearts, or the widower struggling daily to raise his children without their mother.

I think it should be up to them--seriously, let ‘em vote. They’re the ones who had to pay the price, not me and certainly not those spot light grabbing politicians and news pundits . And while I do feel a great deal of sympathy for them I won't presume to speak for them. To be honest with you, I can’t say I’d blame them if they didn’t want it. All good will and tolerance aside, that such faction could splinter from a religion....well, it isn’t new but it can be scary.

But wouldn't it be something if they agreed to let it be built. Wouldn’t it say something about tolerance, understanding, love, and forgiveness. Wouldn’t it say something about being the bigger person and setting aside your own profound grief so maybe a bridge might be built and such a tragedy might be be avoided in the future. That would give me hope for us humans all over again.

But if those families should decide that the wounds are just too fresh and that for some the insult too great, then I hope those planning to build the Center would change their plans and move the building to what would be considered a more respectable distance. Not because they have to, but because they choose to out of tolerance, understanding, love, and forgiveness. From what I hear, their religion teaches that too.

And that would give me hope for mankind as well.

Plan Enough

"I know the Lord has plan for me and he has led and guided every step of my life so that I would be here."

I have a confession. I get jealous when I hear people say that. I wish I felt there was an specific plan for my life and that I was right where I needed to be due to the Lords guidance. I gotta say, I just don't feel that.

Maybe God had a really great exciting plan for me and I've somehow missed an important turn. I get that feeling sometimes and I just can't seem to shake it. It's not that I think my life is really terrible, on the contrary it's lovely, it's just... the dreams of my youth have not matched the reality of my middle age.

Not to sound ungrateful but what would be the point of a plan that leaves me as a suburban housewife in some nondescript town wrestling with leaking toilets and belligerent children? If you were to sit down and come up with a plan for your life would that be it? Is that really something that God would come up with? Surely He could come up with something a little more meaningful.

And what about all those starving children in Africa, or that woman born under the Taliban who was executed because she raped. Frankly, if you ask me, those are really crummy plans.

Maybe at the last minute it will all come together. I'll stand back and suddenly see this magnificent tapestry. Or maybe it will be like one of those crazy drawing exercises where you draw something that doesn't look like a thing and then when you're done you turn it upside down and you realize, "Oh my gosh! It's the Mona Lisa!" or something like that. I'll keep you updated.

In a world where there are endless variables and the choices of someone we've never even heard of can have a profound effect upon where we end up -- I have trouble believing that God himself can co-ordinate that. And if he could, why would he? He created a world of endless variables for a reason.

No, I just don't believe that whole "plan just for me". It would be nice to think it's the case....maybe I've just lost faith.

But I do believe we have to keep on trying to do our best every day and endure to the end. We need to nurture our testimony and our relationship with The Lord by praying and reading the scriptures. We need to honor our commitments, teach our children right from and wrong and love our spouses. We need to be kind to others and do what we can to lend a hand to those less fortunate and contribute to our community, even if only in small ways. And we need to hope that somehow we'll find a way to utilize our talents to make our family and society better.

If we can do that then I believe everything is going to be OK. I don't know how, but somehow in this life, or the next everything will work out.

I know God planned to send us a Savior, his son, so we could repent and learn from our mistakes rather than be forever condemned by them. And I know that if we follow this plan we can return to be with him someday. And maybe that is plan enough.

Nazis, Manson, and Polanski

I wonder how Roman Polanski would feel if the Nazis who mercilessly persecuted his family in Poland during WWII were allowed to simply go free because the crime was committed so long ago. Or perhaps those Charles Manson followers who savagely murdered his 8 1/2 month pregnant wife should be able to walk now because, after all it's been 40 years.

No, I can't imagine he'd feel very happy about that.

And yet he expects to be handed a get out of jail free card for raping a 13 year old girl 32 years ago.

Perhaps he feels that he is an exception to the laws of our land because of the wonderful films he's given the world. But many of those Nazis were living peaceful lives and contributed greatly to their community before they were hunted down and dragged to Nuremberg. And those Manson followers have just been ideal prisoners.

Unfortunately for Nazis, Manson followers, and Polanski that's not how our country's justice system works. You commit a crime, you get caught, you pay for it. And although plying a 13 year old girl with champagne and Quaaludes before sexually assaulting her orally, vaginally and anally isn't quite as heinous as murder, he still needs to pay for it.

The fact that the victim, now 42, has forgiven him publicly and even requested the charges against him be dropped (which, I dare say is more generous than he would be toward a Nazi or his wife's murderer), does not change anything. Prosecution of severe crimes, such as child rape, are left to the discretion of the State, not the victim. To not prosecute this crime NOW sends a dangerous message to a public that frankly already has some issues with sexual exploitation of children. Avoid the law long enough, wait for the victim to forgive you out of shear desperation to move on with her life, and you can get away with doing anything.

I can sympathize why the victim would feel the way she does. Every time this comes up it places unwanted focus and attention on her family and forces her to relive what must be painful memories. But that isn't the fault of the State, it Polanski's. If he truly recognized how wrong he was then he would man up, face his sentencing, and serve his time. If he did that then both he and the victim could finally lay this unfortunate incident to rest. But instead he has avoided, justified and dragged the whole ugly affair out.

No doubt there is a tidy little knot in Hollywood who feel not being able to accept your Academy Award in person is punishment enough, (Not all stars feel this way. Thank you Chris Rock for having the courage call Polanksi what he is--a rapist), but I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that most of the people of the Great State of California feel that right is right and that the prosecuting attorneys representing them have an obligation to bring this man (and I use that term very loosely) to justice. If Polanski wasn't who he was, if he were say... just some random black man, or a conservative congressman I image the Hollywood elite would be singing a different tune but instead they seem to be coming up with their own realities where there is "rape" and "rape-rape" and the fact that the victim's mother was in the house some how casts a shade of gray on Polanski's guilt.

No matter how you look at it Roman Polanski was found guilty of statutory rape.* Sing and dance all you want, that's the bare knuckles fact. Not allegedly guilty but found in a court of law to be GUILTY. He needs to stand before a judge and be sentenced as that judge deems appropriate within the preset range determined by the laws of the State of California. After and only after he has served that time is his debt to society paid. Living in the lap of luxury in France for 32 years does not pay it, being forgiven by the poor child you victimized does not pay it, and making critically acclaimed films does not pay it.

It's rather ironic--many Nazis and those responsible for the murder of Sharon Tate have stood trial, been sentenced, and have paid, or are still paying for their crimes. And THAT is more than Roman Polanski can say.

*BTW - The original charges of rape by use of drugs, perversion, sodomy, lewd and lascivious acts upon a child to which Polanksi plead guilty were plea bargain to simply statutory rape due to the victims effort to remain anonymous. However, because Polanski fled prior to sentencing, all of the original charges remain pending. So all this talk about what he technically is guilting of is just smoke and mirrors. Once he ran, all bets were off.

Chris Rock on Roman Polanski