So Tired.

I have no quote or special words of wisdom this time, just pure honesty and I hope you will understand.

I am tired of the battle, I am tired of waiting and hoping the the faith I love so much will be a place I feel welcome. My life is a series of ironies that unless you walk my path with my shoes you can never really understand.

The church, for me, has been a place of refuge and a place of hate. I have faced the greatest challenges walking through the doors and with everything I have been through it feels now like the last place that won't forget.

For years, members have been the best people in my life and the worst. My greatest cheering section and those that throw the hardest stones. I can't keep it up anymore, I just can't, it's too hard.

For a long time, every Saturday night, after the dances, our house would get egged, These same kids would show up on Friday to swim, or hang out. Can I mention the sign that proclaimed my daughter to be... well, we won't go there, but Mormon girls again and yet, I hung on, to be the anchor for my kids, to show them that this religion I loved had good in it, that their were good people.

As I went through the divorce I saw sides of the Priesthood that gave me hope but there was also those high priests who made it a point to let me know what they thought of me, all because my ex had to let people know that he was "blameless" and that it was me, unrighteous, unholy me that made it all wrong. It wasn't the years of ternary, the name calling, the absolute abuse. That of course never happened in the church, but alas, we all know each other so well from the three hours we spend together every week.

I know, it's sounding half empty again but I am defeated. I can't fight this anymore. I can't keep defending a faith that is just so determined to judge and to criticize. If my ex had of left the church, had an affair, done some misdeed that wasn't up to the interpretation of men afraid to make a stand, my fate would be much different.

It's funny, there isn't an argument from any of the professionals that dealt with out family. It was ABUSE, the worst case some had seen in all the years of their practice but when the Bishop who tried to make him accountable stood up to him, the Stake backed down, he was one of them, it is true what they say.... they do have each others back.

3 years ago a Bishop made a request of me, don't fight, try to do it on your own. I did that, now I have asked his help. M is working now, has been for over a year. A righteous man, an honorable man, a decent man would step up and start supporting his SON, not make excuses, not continue the abandonment. Please, I asked, appeal to his Bishop, someone help us....... NOPE, nothing just like the 7 months I have been waiting for something to start on the cancellation, you know, that open, hurting, awful wound we had to open up to move forward on our new lives.

I'm sad, hurt, and scared. I want the church and faith I love not to be a painful place I visit every week as I try to undo the verbal damage my ex still exudes on my family to this day. I want accountability and will never see it happen, I want peace and hope and it feels just empty and lost.

If you wonder why people stop attending church.... think of me. Think of 5 years of putting up with the gossip and the meanness. I need a reason to want to be there and I can't find one right now, I can't find a purpose to keep trying, it hurts to keep trying.

My daughters tell me there is an inevitable amount of freedom when you don't hear the hushed whispers, when you don't hear the cruel words of judgement from a group of people professing not to judge. It's funny, I was with K2 and we went to pick something up from a place that was owned by Mormons. The girl recognized her and as she did, her whole demeanor changed and that "self righteousness and mean spiritedness came out from this young woman who professes to be so good. K2 blew it off, says that it's normal from the Mormons when they run across her.... she's used to it. It just made me sad, made me wonder again why I try.

I spend 90% of my time away from Mormons now and 90% of my day goes well. Astounding isn't it.

I have been asked to give a talk on testimony. It's the only thing that makes me go these days and even it comes under criticism. I'm not sure I have the heart to do it.

W is taking me to the mountains. He is my rock through these tough times. I love him more than you will ever know. I have now waited longer than my ex did to get his clearance and I know I have much longer to wait because my Bish hasn't even sent the papers in, he hasn't called M and he hasn't been my advocate to M's bishop. It's funny, I guess in the end I know that even being married to W for the short time that I have, a temple marriage isn't going to change just how wonderful that this has been for me, how wonderful it continues to be.

Can someone give me reason to keep trying, why be where you aren't wanted or needed. I have signed up to volunteer through the city, I am hoping that I can find purpose in serving others. Service is a way to get out of the pity party and if I have to serve outside the walls of my faith, I will.

I am sorry if I have offended some of you, I didn't mean to, but if there is someone in your ward and they are struggling, please reach out. It could mean a world of difference to them and it could be the very reason why they decide to try one more week. What I would give to feel like I belonged,like my being there mattered.

Ghosts and Other Such Disturbances

Rocky has taken to barking at the walls, the ceilings and the unknown ghosts that seem to be roaming through the house. It's not an out of control hysterical bark but more a shallow and sutler way of letting whoever is bothering him that he knows their there and he just wants to be left alone.

This old soul was old the very day we picked him up almost 9 1/2 years ago. He is the quintessential "perfect" dog and mostly he just chills and loves and cuddles and puts up with this home of ours that seems full of people determined to mess up his calm zen lifestyle.

Lately, however, he has been speaking to the air. Out of the blue, he'll look up and just speak to let whatever it is that is bothering him that he's around and that he is aware. My mind goes to places like, Mom is here and just letting us feel her or the woman who lived here for 30 years is checking out the changes but anyway you look at it, Rocky is feeling or seeing something and letting us all know it's here.

Sometimes he gruffs and speaks on and on and he gets this look, the one in the picture, where you know he just wants a break. It's funny, I never thought that this sweet old soul would hold so much of the hearts of the people in our family.

Rocky finally settled and took up his spot whereupon he fell fast asleep and started snoring... a puppy snore, and I then realize that the gentle hum of Rock makes my world a better place.

Can you Take the Mormon Out?

Fall is my ABSOLUTE FAVORITE time of year. When I was at BYU I would drive home for a weekend just to smell the air here because Fall doesn't smell the same anywhere else. The farmers market's at bristling with people and the fruits and vegetables are to die for. Can you smell the Kettle Corn being made and feel the crisp cold that says winter is knocking. Today was no different... well, maybe warmer than usual but wow, the Farmer's market was great and today, BBG 3 came with because it was Salsa Day!

K2 joined us when we got home and thus started Salsa day. Par boiling tomatoes - Roma this time - tons of peppers and onions, I am still crying and something new - salsa seasoning. Pica Picante' Salsa seasoning which I think made it extra yummy this year!

This time, the girls found some of my old quilting fabric and decided to "dress it up" some because heaven knows you make salsa to give away! No worries though, we held some back for ourselves this time. I can hardly wait for the next few weeks while it rests so the flavours can infuse through the bottles!

All packed up at the end of the day..... I don't know what makes me feel more whole, harvesting and canning from the bounties of the harvest or spending the day with the girls doing something we love, hard to say!

And now, because we have Wayne around and he is the ultimate canner - go figure, the one who didn't grow up Mormon is the best canner of us all, we added something new this year! We are all over the moon because we've never done it before but LOVE-LOVE-LOVE PICKLES!!!!

Can you believe how lucky we are!!! YUMMY!

To Grandma P

“I am a frayed and nibbled survivor in a fallen world, I am getting along, I am aging and eaten and have done my share of eating too. I am not washed and beautiful, in control of a shining world in which everything fits, but instead am wondering awed about on a splintered wreck I’ve come to care for, whose gnawed trees breathe the delicate air, whose bloodied and scarred creatures are my dearest companions, and whose beauty bats and shines not in its imperfections but overwhelmingly in spite of them…” ~Anne Dillard

There’s a bridge on an obscure road to a place no one really cares about that has such a life analogy for me that going to it gives me a sense of attachment. As you are travelling through the wide expanse of the prairies heading east on an almost level horizon you come across what is known as coulee. It literally can come out of nowhere and is the result of a river that has carved it's path into geological history, it has eroded it’s life on the landscape and what is left is a merandering valley that has a small river or creek ebbing it’s way through it. This coulee is near Blackie and as you arrive at it, to the left is a large chemical plant scarring the atmosphere, and to the right; what can only be described as a truly wonderful sight.

At the bottom of the coulee is a bridge; a one way bridge, that has corroded, rusted steel as it's main construction and a wooden plank base. It’s bright blue in colour and is, for some, a rather sore sight, but for me, a beautiful remnant of a life we have all left behind.

Every time we visit Wayne’s cousin we cross over this bridge and ever time I do I feel more safe on it than I ever have on the Ivor Bridge that expands the Bow River near the LaFarge plant here in Calgary. It’s a song I think, I am sure that this bridge has a place in my heart. Maybe because it reminds me of just how long my family has been around these parts or that it seems to be forgotten by the powers that be that always rip these kind of things down. Either way, me heart sings to its beauty.

It’s funny; just above the bridge on the top of the coulee is a 3 million dollar home that is for sale. A ranchers style home where you know they have been there a long time and value that land and the view from it's place above the coulee. I have often wondered why the owners haven’t demanded the bridge be replaced in consideration of the weather and all, but if I have such an attachment to it and I don’t even live there they must feel somehow the same.

The bridge reminds me of my Grandma P. All 4 foot 10 of her. Feisty, hard knocked and sweet. I don’t ever remember a raised voice or a course word, that was Grandpa P’s job. She was a city girl forced to the farm and she grinned and bore it. Egg money was her lifeblood for a while and the fall out was a bitter struggle with emphysema which never seemed to slow her down. She was the arms you fell into and the voice of reason. She taught the “Glass House” rules and she was a genuine soul. You felt home with her. She invited your love and gave it back ten fold.

Near the end, as cancer ravaged her body and age had crevassed the lines into her face she seemed so much more beautiful to me. She was so tiny and yet so strong and as she taught you how to make whipped short bread cookies or her famous ribs you felt like you were in the kitchen of a master chef and not a farm wife who came back to the city to retire.

I remember as a young girl, coming home from elementaryschool and as I would round the corner of our block I would see the little white Dynasty parked in front of my house my heart would leap with JOY and I would run, full out, because Grandma was there and that meant sugar sandwiches and love, the kind of love only a Grandma could have.

I miss her, like I miss my MOM. I pray always that I have in me their wisdom, their hopes and their way of loving.

Here’s to my legacy, to the gift I was granted of having such remarkable women to aspire me to be like them or at least strive to be and thank-you to the Big Guy because I have been truly blessed to be their daughter/grand daughter.

An Abiding Faith

“Amidst the confusion of the times, the conflicts of conscience, and the turmoil of daily living, an abiding faith becomes an anchor to our lives.”
~ Thomas S. Monson

I have so many quotes by so many people on this blog and I thought that some might be thinking that I have no use for our own Prophets words or what they have to say. That couldn’t be farther from the truth. What I have done is begin to live the gospel very personally and without malice or demands to anyone around me, whether Mormon or not. I embrace great books and wonderful teachings that enhance me as a person and in the end, define myself as a humanist who happens to be Mormon. Many great and enduring principles of the Gospel reside within me and how I live them cannot be judged nor criticized by either that within the walls of the Chapel I attend or without.

When Thomas M first became the Prophet someone told me a story of just how real he is. The organization of the church seemed was so black and white, running like a well oiled impersonal machine. We seemed to have lost a bit of the human touch. I waited anxiously for the change in leadership to reflect in the wards and stakes.

Time as shown that the leadership of the church has reached down to the personal level and that more concern is being shown to the individuals and families as they attend church. The organizational attributes of the church are second to none and yet, with some, being that organized can lead to a lack of concern for people.

I was chatting with a friend and she told me that during a conversation with her Bishop he told her that if his wife came to him questioning her faith and belief he would immediately leave her and take the kids with him. That he married a strong LDS woman and by her actions she was proving her loss of strength. He didn’t have time for it and would not allow his children to be subjected to the questioning belief. I was shocked. This wasn’t a young man but someone who had been married enough years to have grown children who had chosen a life outside of our faith. My thoughts were; is this the kind of love the Savior asks of us.

In the world today so many members have questions that really, hardly anyone has answers for. We have to rely on faith and the support of those around us to help us through this. There will always be those whose testimonies are unwavering. In some cases they are so black and white that they judge harshly and our uncompromising in their acceptance of anyone who questions. We have quite a few in my ward like that.

I was sad for this Bishop, how he could he think to so easily discard his eternal companion without understanding or offering hope. How can we be so expecting of Christ like attitudes and so unwilling to reach out a hand in aid to those whose faith isn’t nearly as constant? Are we so afraid of the weaknesses of our own faith?

Case in point – a very unique blend of Mormon thinking.

Mormon parents, when their children seem to be making bad choices, lean towards finding others to blame for their children’s wayward ways, thus banning their children from contact with the friends they think are clearly influencing their child. I have been guilty of this. My Mom taught me a great lesson about this.

Our Stake president had deemed my daughter unworthy of his daughter’s friendship; we were not the first family to be given such and ostentatious title. The friendship was immediately brought to a halt and my daughter was somewhat “left out in the cold”. It was sad, as a family; we were facing so much and these two were very good friends. I felt that it had been due to the influence of another girl and was complaining to my Mom of the unfairness of it all; then came one of those famous FINGER POINTING moments that were definitive of my MOM.

“These girls are teenagers, nearly grown adults. They make their own decisions to their own behavior and your job as her parent is to make her responsible to her own mistakes. There will always be parents that will judge not only you but your children, correct what needs correcting but never let actions of one child fall on the blame of another, we each must own our own mistakes.”

It made sense. As much as I still detest the actions of Mormon parents in the banning of friendships, (this banning was a result of my daughter attending a movie, not even asking the Stake president’s daughter to come, that he felt highly inappropriate). My daughter’s actions could have predicted this outcome and by 16, she really did have the right to see a 14A show, even if I thought it might not be best and if the consequence was the losing of a good friend because of it.

The lesson I learned from this was two fold. One, we can’t control how other’s chose to live their lives or the expectations they have on their children. We can only have our own children try to live up to our expectations and the consequences of not doing so must always follow on the child who might not have met them.

So what am I on about?

If the Bishop has set his life up with such expectations that he would divorce his wife if she questioned her faith, which alone is his business that is his right. The consequences not only to his family but to himself would be felt entirely by them and my judging – totally wrong. As sad as I am that this kind of narrow mindedness exists, it does.

This then leads me to my point. Had I been that Bishop’s wife, I would have been turfed and yet, my testimony now is stronger than it has ever been, just different. President Monson's words about “an abiding faith” are so true and by having this kind of faith it can and does make sense out of nonsensical world. Thanks goodness those around me had patience and didn’t judge. I can’t even imagine where I would be otherwise.

The Best Religion

“Your holiness, what is the best religion?”

I thought he would say: "The Tibetan Buddhism” or “The oriental religions, much older than Christianity” the Dalai Lama paused, smiled and looked me in the eyes ….which surprised me because I knew of the malice contained in my question. He answered:

“The best religion is the one that gets you closest to God. It is the one that makes you a better person.”

To get out of my embarrassment with such a wise answer, I asked:

“What is it that makes me better?”

He responded:

“Whatever makes you

more compassionate,

more sensible,

more detached,

more loving,

more humanitarian,

more responsible,

more ethical.”

“The religion that will do that for you is the best religion”

Well, I couldn’t resist when I saw this. It speaks volumes to how I feel in general and specifically to my own life. I have a profound respect for the Dali Lama. He has a peaceful insight and if we were to just read or understand a small fraction of his wisdom we could have true peace within ourselves as well.


Religion has become such a personal thing for me. I often am asked; for everything that has happened to you, for all that you have been through, how do you stay Mormon?


Well, that’s the question isn’t it. Truth, in some Mormon eyes is so absolute and they define it as owned or only there’s is the only truth which makes for confrontation and contention which will, I believe, be detrimental to our perception by others.

I have met so many wonderful people in the last while who vary in range of belief from agnostic to celestial and what I love is that they are so encompassing of others. I have found wonderful members who for me have allowed me to know the other side of our religion. The quiet, unassuming side where faith is so pure and self realized that they have no need to impress anyone. I LOVE THESE kind of members and have learned to associate with them and gleen from them their ways of being Mormon. It has built my testimony and gives me hope that at some time I may feel like I belong.


I remember in seminary Sister P taught about the restored gospel like the keys on a piano. That because we have the fully restored gospel we have a richer, more beautiful song. Well, I was at a concert where the pianist only used 3 octaves of keys and the music was glorious. Beautiful and melodic and yet, I know, those extra keys can make a difference if used righteously.


Now, what am I saying? That as much as we have the truth, there are so many others that have truth as well and dwelling on one gospel being better that another is only divisive and combative. Embracing and understanding other religions can only benefit you if studied with acceptance at heart. Before you do, however, you must understand your testimony inherently.


I love the gospel of Jesus Christ. I love the principles that help me be a better person. I wish church was easier for me, I wish that I didn’t feel so judged. Outside of that, this Mormon thing is what makes me better. I am better for having been Mormon.