The Patience of Melchizedek

I am sad when I look back on history and see that women were not always considered equal to  men.  That sorrow is magnified when I see  women suffering the same prejudice today. I recently spoke to a friend that finds herself in just such a circumstance. Instead of always being valued as an equal partner in her marriage, she often is criticized and controlled.    The salt in the wound is the analysis of a well-intentioned therapist.    Instead of finding comfort from the therapist, there is more criticism.  She seems to be criticized from every angle.  She is looked down upon by her husband because she wants to buy frivolous items like paper towels; she is looked down upon by the therapist because she doesn’t leave that marriage.

This friend called me on this day that she found to be particularly disheartening.  It was the kind of day when you replay every discouraging thing that people have told you about your situation, or even that you have imagine that they have thought.  At the bottom of the downward spiral of thoughts there was one particularly ugly fear:  maybe she wasn’t so good afterall.  Maybe what she thought was her strengths,  weren’t of benefit to her or to those around her.  Was her unfair treatment somehow her fault? Was her determination to stay by her husband and preserve her family really just enabling his behavior?

Her discouragement, coupled with the criticism of others, made us reconsider what we once thought to be true.  Should a woman leave a marriage because a man is controlling with money, critical, and not willing to consider her as an equal partner?  The therapist would say, “Absolutely.  This treatment isn’t fair. You can’t change your husband and you deserve better!”

But, if unequal marriages should be terminated, if that therapist could go back in time, would she counsel women to leave their homes and families if their situations were unfair?  Wouldn’t that end nearly all of the marriages of the 50’s?  But, didn’t they raise great children and have wonderful familial success even in unequal circumstance? Would seeking equality  be worth such a high price to pay? Maybe we should be more cautious to not throw the baby out with the bathwater as we seek for total equality while trying to preserve our families.

But, my friend and I happen to like the 50’s.  We want to be as cute and nurturing as June Cleaver. 

 We want our homes to be as clean, comfortable, and lovely as June’s home.  We know what it makes us feel to be like in a refuge like that, we want to provide that feeling for those we love most.  We want our kitchen tables to resemble the Norman Rockwell painting “Freedom From Want” 

-- All of those who we love most gathered around a nutritious and delicious meal that they joyfully anticipate.  We are  willing to pay the high price for that home with the toil of our hands and the training of our children. And when our children leave home, we want to have earned the type of relationship with them that would lead them to say that they refused to indulge in immoral activity because they didn’t want to disappoint their mothers.  In essence, we want the 50’s.  

However, we  would also like to enjoy the more enlightened perspective of our times.  We  want the freedom to become anything we  want, to study any topic, and at any university.  We  want the respect of others; to know that our opinions and perspectives are esteemed.  We  want to be valued as equal to men.  Isn’t there a way that women can have the old-fashioned home life of the 50’s and the freedom of opportunity and respect of our times?  Can’t we have both?  How will we get there?  How does my friend  get there in her marriage?

I tucked my short conversation with my friend in the back of my brain and went along with the rest of my day.  It came out again later that day during my scripture study.  During that study I found my answer. I believe I learned how the fairness I yearn for will eventually be achieved.

I happened to be reading a section known as the Servant Songs in the book of Isaiah. In these chapters a remarkable servant is described.  It is  prophesied  that this servant would have great character and accomplish great good.  Scholars speculate about what characters in history could fulfill the requirements listed or what leader will yet come.  Though there may be several servants that fulfill parts of these prophesies, the only mortal that has ever lived, that could ever live up to all that is prophesied in these chapters, is the Lord Jesus Christ.  Ultimately, I believe all of the servant songs are not only a description of who the Lord is, but also who he would like us to become.  

The servant is described as one who would be able to accomplish a feat many other rulers tried to do before, but ultimately failed. The servant would be able to bring justice to the world (Isaiah 42:1  reads, “He shall bring forth judgment to the Gentiles.” Other translations of that sentence are that he would, “Bring justice to the nations.” ). Considering other powerful nations and leaders that sought justice, I also see a loss of freedom, undervaluing of the individual, and  brutality.  Though much less grave, I  even have tendency tinged with this imperfection as a mother.  Playing with my children, cuddling up with them to read them a good book, and serving them up delicious treats are things that I love to do.  But sometimes motherhood requires that I seek for order, justice, and fairness. There have been many times I have regretted that my firmness was a little too cranky. Sometimes in my quest to “get things done” I clumsily trample around on the fragile little things around me.  And so I absolutely marvel at the next description of this prophesied servant.

This servant would  bring “justice to the nations” not using coercion and force, but gentleness and persuasion. Verse two begins with a description of the gentleness of this ruler, “He shall not cry, nor lift up (the voice), nor cause his voice to be heard in the street.” --Isaiah 42:2.  This leader achieves justice in a terribly unfair world, and would do so without raising his voice!  The following verse is a further description of the gentleness of this servant: “A bruised reed shall he not break, and the smoking flax shall he not quench” (Isaiah 42:3).  In other words, he will not harm or hurt the weakest.  A well known historical example of this brutality is Nazi Germany and their quest for a perfect society.  They sought to eliminate the weakest such as the mentally retarded and those  and absolutely trampled those that would stand in their way.  How opposite they were from the description of the Servant!

The scriptures continue by teaching,  “He shall bring forth judgment unto truth” (Isaiah 42:3).The justice that will be achieved will not be based upon opinion, culture, or any other inconsistent thing.  It will be according to the unchanging truth of God.  

In the final description of this servant we gain a more complete understanding of patience of the servant. Not only was there gentleness, there was also unwavering determination: “He shall not fail nor be discouraged, till he have set judgment in the earth: and the isles shall wait for his law” (Isaiah 42:4). As human beings, we make efforts to change; we make mistakes and are not perfect on our first try. We should marvel at this servant who would not stop or even get discouraged until the goal was reached.  

We typically think of the servant of God as a member in a church calling, but there is no more important calling that we have than husband, wife, mother, father, child. The patience described by this servant is what we must have in our family relationships. We can strive to be more like the servant in our marriages.  It isn’t to say that as Latter-day Saints that we don’t believe in divorce.  Prophets have taught us that sometimes the terrible costs that come with divorce are worth the risks because the damage in staying is even greater.  Elder James E. Faust taught:

Divorce can be justified only in the rarest of circumstances. In my opinion, “just cause” for divorce should be nothing less serious than a prolonged and apparently irredeemable  relationship that destroys a person’s dignity as a human being. Divorce often tears people’s lives apart and shears family happiness. Frequently in a divorce the parties lose much more than they gain.    

But many of us, perhaps even most of us, are in the category of the still striving, amidst some victory and some failure.  God teaches us to not give up, to fight discouragement, and to keep trying for what is right with a gentle and loving heart.  And if in this life we never achieve the grand gospel standard, then we can die knowing we gave our lives to the best of causes.  There are some goals in this life, like the scientist striving to end human suffering from cancer, that are worth the great effort required even if the goal is never reached.  Unlike the scientist though, we know that none of our efforts are wasted. And we know that if we do what God asks of us, eventually our character, our spouse’s character, and our relationship with them will be perfected.   

I thought of my friend and  what a fitting description this servant song  was of her.  She works for what is just and fair according to the eternal truths of the Gospel.  She seeks to conduct her life and persuade her husband according to those truths.  When either of them fall short of that lofty standard, she forgives and she tries again.  How painfully ironic it is that she is sometimes looked down upon, instead of being looked up to.

While I sat there pondering the description of this servant I remembered other examples in the scriptures where the servant didn’t exhibit those qualities.   Just days earlier, I had studied about Hezekiah who was righteous servant, but lacked the patient determination required when working with people.  In Isaiah chapter 39 Hezekiah made the mistake in showing off his wealth to the King of Babylon.  Isaiah came after this incident and told him that the Lord had a message for him as a result.  The day would come when the King of Babylon would take all of Judah’s wealth he had just witnessed and that Isaiah’s sons would be taken captive and demoted to being eunuchs in the palace of the king of Babylon.  Hezekiah’s response was, “Good is the word of the Lord which thou hast spoken…For there shall be peace and truth in my days.”  Hezekiah seems to be reassured that at least during his time of reign they would enjoy peace and resigns himself to the fate and autonomy of the next generation.  

I have to say I was disappointed with the resignation that Hezekiah showed.  In just the chapter before there is the record of Hezekiah  who receives the word of the Lord through Isaiah that his sickness will lead to his death and that he should set his house in order.  Hezekiah’s response is the opposite in this circumstance than it was from the next chapter.  He humbly pleads with the Lord for more time, praying all night long, he begs.  His answer from God is an additional 15 years of life.  Maybe if he would have approached the message of the fall of his nation with the same zeal that he had when praying to the Lord for extended health, his outcome would have been different. But sometimes we can throw our hands up in the air when it comes to forces we can’t seem to control; this is especially true when working with people.  But, not all leaders in the scriptures give up so easily and some show an extraordinary, determined patience.

Melchizedek was such a man.  He was given an awesome responsibility. When he was called on to be king of Jerusalem we read that, “His people had waxed strong in iniquity and abomination; yea, they had all gone astray; they were full of all manner of wickedness” (Alma 13:18).  But Melchizedek exercised “mighty faith” and preached repentance to his people (Alma 13:18).  The scriptures teach that he accomplished his feat of achieving peace in the way that Enoch did (JST Genesis 14).  Repentance and great change doesn’t happen in a moment. As Enoch’s ministry illustrated, Zion, or a god-like people of a just society, comes about only in “the process of time” (Moses 7:21).  The greater priesthood was named after Melchizedek because he was such a great high priest (D&C 107:2).    Surely, his patience and persistence contributed to such lofty praise.  Melchizedek’s character fits the description of Isaiah’s servant song.

I thought to myself that in order for my friend to fulfill her mission in life she will not need the priesthood of Melchizedek; she will need the patience of Melchizedek.

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About five years ago, my family and I were gathered in an LDS church eating a luncheon prior to my brother’s temple marriage.  One of the people there was my Aunt Julie.  She is not LDS, but rather Catholic.  I asked her and her husband if they would like  me to walk them through the chapel when the luncheon was done.  They welcomed the opportunity.  When we arrived at the chapel they shared that they felt that women should be allowed to preach and pray in church, and asked if women could be priests.  I answered that while we preach and pray, the office of a bishop requires the priesthood and we believe that it is a man’s responsibility to hold the priesthood.  They spoke of equality and something was said, I don’t remember what, that indicated to me they thought that LDS women might want that opportunity. The idea was laughable to me. “No,” I laughed. “LDS women don’t want the priesthood and the responsibility that comes with it.  We are maxed out as it is.”

I tried to explain why it was that I perceived that we weren’t looking for more work to do at Church. I explained to them about the visiting teaching program being similar to how a pastor would visit members of his congregation to minister personally to them.  I had several women that I was responsible to visit every month, spiritually feed them, and administer to their needs. I explained how the typical pastoral duty of preaching to the congregation is shared by members of the Church, men and women alike.  I told them that talks commonly begin with the joke of how the speaker tried to avoid the member of the bishopric whom they feared would ask them.  Most of us cringe when we get called on to speak. I shared how women were given additional  church responsibilities such a teaching Sunday School or leading in the Relief Society, Young Women’s, and Primary organizations.   I said the idea that L.D.S. women felt there wasn’t enough work for them to do at Church and are looking for an opportunity for more was the exact opposite of the truth.  Rather,  there is camaraderie in feeling overwhelmed by what we have already been asked to do.

I thought of the myriad of other Gospel activities away from Church life that I feel a love of doing, a responsibility to do, and yet I constantly fall short of what I would like to accomplish. I didn’t mention this list because I didn’t want to terrify them about the prospect of ever becoming a member; I thought of missionary work, temple worship, family history work, personal Gospel study, service to those around me, and so forth.

I found the question of my Aunt and Uncle so ironic because my big conundrum at that time in my life was how to carry out the immense amount of work to create the family culture I wanted,  and somehow also do my calling.   Wanting the Priesthood was the exact opposite of what I was feeling. “No,” I thought to myself. “Allowing women have the priesthood would not encourage gender equality.  On the contrary, it would tip the scales, becoming terribly unequal if women had the priesthood.”

My parting thought for them was that a fundamental doctrine of our religion is  that the greatest work we will ever do will be within the walls of our own home. While we are equal partners with our husbands, we believe that women are primarily responsible for the nurture of their children.  We dream of having strong, faith-filled, fun families and raising amazing children.  And in my experience,  it was the women of those families that intuited what needed to be done  and would sacrifice themselves until they reached that goal. They orchestrated the symphony that is a family.  They were the CEO’s of the household. “No,” I said authoritatively, “The women of this church do not want the priesthood.  We have enough on our plates already!”  

  I had this conversation before I understood that there was a group of women in my church, that I didn’t rub shoulders with, that actually wanted to “ordain women.”  I still believe all  that I shared with my aunt. If I were to have that conversation again with my aunt today, the only thing I would change is that I wouldn’t be so bold to speak on behalf of 5.5 million women.  

My initial response to the Ordain Women movement was confusion.    The women that I associated with were saying,  “We have too much already.”  So to hear other LDS women saying that they wanted “more” was surprising to me.  However, after listening and trying to understand, I  now think that for many women  it isn’t actually the additional responsibility of the  priesthood so much that many of them want, but fairness, justice, equality.  Now, that is something I understand and want as well.

The question then becomes how we will achieve that fair treatment?.   I believe that justice will eventually come through servants with the determination for justice, but also the gentleness like those described in Isaiah 42.  Each of us can be that patient, persistent servant in our families and in our wards.

In order for us to have the fairness and equality we crave, we don’t need the priesthood of Melchizedek,  we need the patience of Melchizedek.  

How do we best respond when we are confronted with inequality, perceived or real? Especially in relationships we aren’t willing to discard, like our families,  and opportunities we aren’t willing to walk away from, like our membership and callings in the church?

We need both patience in the weakness of others and persistence to achieve what is right.

We must learn to not be offended as Elder Bednar taught, “One of the greatest indicators of our own spiritual maturity is revealed in how we respond to the weaknesses, the inexperience, and the potentially offensive actions of others. A thing, an event, or an expression may be offensive, but you and I can choose not to be offended—and to say with Pahoran, ‘it mattereth not.’”

Later on in his talk Elder Bednar explained that while we refuse to take offense, we also shouldn’t just take it without complaint. Rather, he instructed that we should do the following: “If a person says or does something that we consider offensive, our first obligation is to refuse to take offense and then communicate privately, honestly, and directly with that individual.”  Being patient and refusing to take offense shouldn’t be confused with being passive-aggressive or being a doormat. We don't just take mistreatment, we work for what is right. We honestly communicate our feelings. 

I suspect that my whole life I will either be making mistakes or dealing with the mistakes of others in regards to ruling equally with a man. I love the examples of those more righteous than I who are involved in that process with such grace, patience and persistence for truth. Such a person is described in a talk given by Elder Anderson. He shared an example of the patient service of a female leader in the Church.  He said, “There was a question raised about strengthening the worthiness of youth preparing to serve missions. Sister Elaine Jack said with a smile, ‘You know, Elder Ballard, the [women] of the Church may have some good suggestions … if they [are] asked. After all, … we are their mothers!’”  To me, these are the words of a woman who might have experienced some being overlooked and undervalued.  In my interpretation, they are the words of a woman who has loved the Church,  who has tolerated and even loved the stellar, yet imperfect leaders within it,  and still persisted for “justice unto truth.” I am sure she loved the men of the Church and saw so much good in them, but we are all working towards perfection. I love her patience and her persistence.  

We will need the same qualities in our lives as well. Your bishop, your dad, your husband—Why did you think that they wouldn’t make any mistakes?   Did you forget that we are all here to learn from our experiences and that none of us are perfect?  Did you underestimate the magnificent task of becoming the priesthood leader described in D&C 121?

Even our beloved president Eyring shared a personal experience of a time when he fell short in this regard. In his book…… when he was experiencing success at his new calling as a general authority.  At this time a situation arose at home that his wife wanted to speak to him about.  He gave his opinion about what needed to happen in a tone stating that there didn’t need to be any further discussion about it.  After he left the home, he said that he felt such a loss of the Spirit that it frightened him. Even this meek, humble, giant of the Lord has made mistakes in this arena of life. This encourages me so greatly because I so frequently make mistakes in this arena as well. I feel like there is hope for me. I can improve.

Elder Larry Wilson shared a similar faux pas in these words.  

A month or so after we were married, my wife and I were taking a long road trip in the car. She was driving, and I was trying to relax. I say trying because the highway we were traveling had a reputation for speed traps, and my wife might have had a slight tendency toward a lead foot in those days. I said, “You’re going too fast. Slow down.”

My new bride thought to herself, “Well, I’ve been driving for nearly 10 years, and other than my driver’s education teacher, no one ever told me how to drive before.” So she replied, “What gives you the right to tell me how to drive?”

Frankly, her question caught me off guard. So, doing my best to step up to my new responsibilities as a married man, I said, “I don’t know—because I’m your husband and I hold the priesthood.”

Brethren, just a quick tip: if you are ever in a similar situation, that is not the right response. And I’m happy to report, it was the one and only time I ever made that mistake.

Now, if those good men made mistakes sometimes in understanding how to lead in the home, it brings me to ask the question: How could we ever expect any average LDS man to not make mistakes when it came to leading?  We are human, and we are learning.  This is a challenging task.  Some men chronically hang back instead of taking their places to preside in their homes.  Other men are seemingly constantly guilty of unrighteous dominion.  Most men are doing remarkably well, but “learning by experience”  means that they sometimes don’t strike the perfect balance and need slight course corrections.  

We can learn a lot from other faithful Saints who were treated unfairly.  The idea that a man has 51% of the vote  at home versus 49% of a woman is distasteful to me and contrary to the doctrine of equal partners.  I can only imagine how it must have tasted to be treated as less than human because of the color of your skin.  I was inspired by the patience shared in the story of Thoba and Julia, members of the church in South Africa.

Julia and Thoba were among the early black converts in South Africa. After the apartheid regime ended, black and white members of the Church were permitted to attend church together. For many, the equality of interaction between the races was new and challenging. One time, as Julia and Thoba attended church, they felt they were treated less than kindly by some white members. As they left, Thoba complained bitterly to her mother. Julia listened calmly until Thoba had vented her frustration. Then Julia said, “Oh, Thoba, the Church is like a big hospital, and we are all sick in our own way. We come to church to be helped.”

Julia’s comment reflects a valuable insight. We must not only be tolerant while others work on their individual illnesses; we must also be kind, patient, supportive, and understanding. As God encourages us to keep on trying, He expects us to also allow others the space to do the same, at their own pace. The Atonement will come into our lives in even greater measure. We will then recognize that regardless of perceived differences, all of us are in need of the same infinite Atonement.

If Julia and Thoba, survivors of apartheid,  found a way to love and be forgiving with the weaknesses of those around us, then we can too.  However, my heart breaks for women who are under-appreciated and under-valued.  I would do anything to help heal the pain that was caused by such a wound.  Many years ago, the second General Relief Society President of the Church, Eliza R. Snow, spoke to that need we have as women to be appreciated.  She said:

We like to be appreciated but if we do not get all the appreciation which we think is our due, what matters? We know the Lord has laid high responsibilities upon us, and there is not a wish or desire that the Lord has implanted in our hearts in righteousness but will be realized, and the greatest good we can do to ourselves and each other is to refine and cultivate ourselves in everything that is good and ennobling to qualify us for those responsibilities.”

Remember what Elder Maxwell taught, “Our individual worth is already divinely established as “great ”; it does not fluctuate like the stock market.”  Your worth is not dependent upon what others think of you. We don’t need the priesthood to be equal because we already are equal, regardless of what others think.  In order for others to value us as equals we will not need the Melchizedek priesthood; we need Melchizedek patience.

Isaiah 29: 24 They also that erred in spirit shall come to understanding, and they that murmured shall learn doctrine.

I believe in a God that speaks to His children in many different ways.  While not all dreams can be attributed to the Lord, the scriptures give evidence that He established this method as one way to communicate with His children.

Several months ago I had  one of these dreams.  In the dream I met a woman who  was very sad.  I didn’t know the details, but I understood that her pain had come from  a difficulty in marriage. Her sorrow was aggravated by confusion about what God expected of her as a woman and how the woman/man relationship was supposed to work. Additionally, she expressed something to me that led me to believe that this trial  had begun to even erode her faith in God and His love for her.  I felt great concern for this woman, and yet I felt hope.  I had some new insights obtained in my recent Gospel study that I felt would be comforting and even healing to her.  Though she wasn’t of my faith, I reassured her that I had answers for her and that if she would come to our church I was going to be speaking in Sacrament Meeting about her very concerns. She gratefully accepted my invitation and we parted ways.  

I had plenty of time to prepare my talk and get to church to speak.  However, as the dream went on, to my alarm and shame, I was unable to do either thing. Found in a state common only in dreams, I was unable to accomplish  those simple tasks.  I felt as though I was walking through mud or glue.  I lacked focus and energy.  I didn’t know quite where I was.  Worst of all,  I knew that Sacrament Meeting was beginning and I was unprepared to speak and nowhere near the church.

At this moment I woke-up.  I was left with a very disconcerting feeling. As I reflected on my dream, I believe it had a message from God to me but at this point I was confused about what the dream meant.   Motivated by wanting to extinguish the uncomfortable feeling, I searched in my mind for possible interpretations and what God was asking me to do.  I prayed and pondered while I lay in bed.  The conclusion I came to was that there must be a woman that is hurting somewhere that I could help, but I am unprepared to do so.  I decided to attempt to write out the things I have learned about these issues and continue to study the principles that I have not yet clarified.  Once I made this decision, my anxious feelings were replaced by comfortable ones.  

I have wondered who might the woman in the dream represent.

Is it ____? She is married to a good man who tries to do what is right but struggles in understanding what it means to be the leader of their family.  His misunderstanding of the meaning of “presiding” causes much anguish in her life as well as his.  She is told what she can and can’t do.  When she has a differing opinion about something that their family should do, he sulks because he feels like she should obey him.  He seeks for control through anger or ignoring her. She is the most meek, loving, forgiving, and patient woman I have ever met. Though his actions has caused her great sorrow, I think his failure, to understand and act in the way God would have him to,  has caused him more pain. It  has surprised me to see that this domineering type of thinking still exists, but I have seen it.   President Hinckley saw it too.  He once said: “How tragic and utterly disgusting a phenomenon is wife abuse. Any man in this Church who abuses his wife, who demeans her, who insults her, who exercises unrighteous dominion over her is unworthy to hold the priesthood. I regret to say that I see too much of this ugly phenomenon.”  While I don’t believe my friend’s husband ever intended to abuse his wife, his misunderstanding of doctrine has led him to do exactly that. I wonder if she could be the woman in my dream.

Another person comes to mind.  She was once my faithful missionary companion. She was fiery in her faith and determination to live the Gospel in the way that she understood it.  Reconnecting with her years later I saw that she was still full of love.  When she was my companion she got fired up with joy when she talked about the  Restored Gospel.  She gets fired up still, but now the fire comes in contradiction about what is taught in church and instead of joy there is anger and hurt.  Once the joy of the Gospel burned in her heart, now  what burns in her heart are unanswered questions.  With the same determination that I knew so well as a missionary, she holds on to her religion amidst her doubts and hurts.   Her hurt is wrapped up in the words follow, preside, women, and men.  While she can be found on the pew in Sacrament Meeting, she is no longer in the temple.  As I gained a greater understanding of her concerns through our conversation,  my heart ached and I said to myself, “No. Not her.  She was supposed to serve in the General Auxiliaries of the Church.  She was supposed to speak in General Conference.”  I do not look down on her or feel critical of her.  She is a strong, amazing woman.  She is hurt. I wonder if she could be the woman in my dream.

When, as faithful people, we don’t understand God’s teachings we experience spiritual dissonance that is at first uncomfortable and finally painful.  Because of that pain we sometimes murmur.   Isaiah declared, “They also that erred in spirit shall come to understanding, and they that murmured shall learn doctrine.” In other words, when we get to the other side of the veil and have a chance to discuss our questions, the outcome won’t be that we realize we were right and God was indeed wrong.  Rather, our fears and our murmurings will be silenced as we learn doctrine. We will learn our murmuring against God was a result of not fully understanding Him or his doctrine. I have found this to be true in my life.  When I suffered the pain that came from a Gospel misunderstanding it wasn’t God or His teachings that needed to change, it was me.  Or more specifically, it was my understanding of the doctrine and the condition of my heart before God.  My heart became right before God when I decided to trust Him and have faith in Him again.  Once, my heart was right things changed.  Immediately, I felt peace again in my life.  Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the learning has followed.

Learning has come “line upon line” to me as gently as morning dew accumulates on the grass as I have devoted my life to studying God’s word and building His kingdom.   I expect that my understanding is very incomplete and I will yet learn much more. But, in an attempt to share what I have learned, I will write out my thoughts. We sing the words, “As I search the holy scriptures...may by unseen wounds be healed.” I hope my study of the scriptures and sharing with you what I have learned from them will, in some small way, do just that.

So, who is the woman in my dream? It could be many different women.  It could be the woman that feels oppressed by church doctrine and perceived inequality.   It could be the woman in a relationship with a domineering man or one serving in a church calling with someone who doesn’t show regard and respect for her perspective.  It might be the woman who is not oppressed by any outside force, but suppressed from within because of her own incomplete understanding of the role God would have her play.  It could be the strong independent woman who unintentionally  alienates and sends the message to her husband or Church leader,  “I have no need of you.”  She would never consider herself domineering, and yet not allowing her husband to play his part, that is exactly what she has become. Each of these women experience sorrow because of a lack of understanding, because of strife in relationships that are supposed to be beautiful and fulfilling.  The woman in my dream is your sister, your best friend, your mother; it is you, and  it is me.  

Twister.  With Master I  when I heard the hillarious things he told me I knew that i had to record them.  Like when he put on his new clothes I bought him for kindergarten and he looked out the window of our 13th story apartment over the Salt Lake Valley with his hands on his hips he nodded his head and told me, "I feel like I am king over all of this."  That was one of those moments that I laughed to myself and thought that I couldn't believe this was happening.  With Miss R I witnessed sweet things that I wanted to photograph in my memory like seeing her lovingly care for her baby dolls or seeing her hide from people she doesn't know in the shower and eventually falling asleep.  But with Twister it is his craziness that I feel I must record.  I frequently feel that I can't believe this is happening to me.  Just this morning we have had more of those moments.  He told me he needed to go poopy.  I helped him get situated, then following his ritual he looked at me and said, "Get my way!"  That means get out of my way or go away.  He wants his privacy. I try to time my absence well, but when I came back he was swishing his toothbrush in his recent work.  We threw away another toothbrush, cleaned-up,  and then I told him to put his clothes back on.  I left for just a moment.  When I got back he had somehow climbed into the sink and had opened the medicine cabinet and was trying to opening the flouride bottle.  I am sure that I had a look of horror and disbelief on my face when I saw him and said his name.  He tried to reassure me by saying, "Juuuuuust one."

Homemade Halloween

Frankenstein, Kirsten the American Girl Doll, and Doggie

Fall in Philly

 Stopping to enjoy the leaves on the way home from school.

Going for a fall walk at Tinicum Wildlife Refuge

Dad instructs Master I about plant biology

My leaves I collected on our walk

Master I, not to be out down, finds the biggest leaf of all and makes Miss R fan him with it.

Tinicum Wildlife Refuge

Happy Halloween

The low point of Halloween was that Mark worked and I was on my own carving pumpkins, making dinner, dressing kids in costumes, going trick-or-treating, etc.   I missed the days in Utah when I would go to Kristen's house and go through her neighborhood.  It seems easier when there is family that you are doing it with.

The high point was that a friend stopped by wanting to trick or treat in our neighborhood a little and another friend, Sue from around the corner, simply went with me as a help.  Her husband took their son and Master I out in our neighborhood.  They were able to go as fast as they wanted to go.  This saved all of us from a lot of frustration.  All of this happened sort of last minute.  Master I's friend called asking if we wanted to go together and then we divided up and her husband stayed with the boys and she just went along with me.  I was so grateful to her.   As I write about this I recognize God's hand in that  even more than I did in the moment.

The kids loved their costumes and I thought they looked darling as well.  Miss R was the American Girl doll Kirsten, Master I was Frankenstein, and Twister was a dog.  Twister should have just been a Twister.  He had one of his typical moments while we were out trick-or-treating. We went up to the door of a home that had a large front porch where they had displayed their "Halloween Zoo."  They had a white frog, a bunny, a dog, and a bald rat.  This couple really got into the spirit of making Halloween fun and having a party.  Unfortunately, accompanying their festivities was the strong smell of alcohol.  I was peaking at the white frog, while unbeknowst to me Twister was getting into mischief.  I didn't see on the low railing that there was a glass of wine.  I turned around to see Twister with his mouth nearly on the fun-looking wine glass, ready to drink up.  I screamed and ripped it out of his hand.  I feel like I am always in situations like this with this boy.  He is quicker than my other children and has less inhibition and caution.

The pictures below are ones that I find on my phone of Twister in his crib taking pictures of himself on my phone.  I don't know how he got the phone or how he knows how to take pictures.

Another thing that I have realized about Twister is that I am redressing him constantly.  He is constantly getting naked and resists when I try to put clothes on him.  My neighbor had an idea that I hadn't thought of, the clothes must be bothering him.  They must itch or something.  With his history of allergies I wouldn't be at all surprised.  This makes me feel more patient with him rather that just think that he is creating me more work.

But, he is a twister.  Tonight I gave him a piece of Naynay's birthday cake at the table.  I left the table to start the laundry.  When I came back he had it all over his face and squished between his fingers.  After I cleaned up his face and washed his hands he went to go play while I was wiping up the table.  When I finished that task I found his stuffing toys into the guitar.  And he knows he's doing something naughty.  When I get into the room he covers up his eyes in shame!  With Twister I feel like I either have to be playing with him and watching him under close supervision or have him in front of a movie.  I have to take him to the park more.

Well Sweet Miss R didn't like our attempts to have her do extra curricular activities.  She flat out refused soccer.  When she wasn't cooperating with her violin teacher I asked her if she really wanted to do violin.  She looked at her teacher and told her that she didn't want her to teach her, she just wanted her mommy to teach her. She bitterly resented gymnastics.  Her last class I drug her to she cried the whole way saying that she just wanted to stay home and dance and do gymnastics with her brothers.  She didn't want to go to classes and she didn't want to leave home.

Dreading School and Soccer

So I wasn't laughing when there was toothpaste all in R's hair as I was trying to leave the house, but I didn't get mad.  This morning when Miss R had brushed toothpaste all through Twister's hair I did get mad.  What was I doing while all of this happened?  I was in the same room as them, but I was in a contorted position trying to get the toys out from under the bed that they had thrown everywhere last night.  And yet I deeply believe that to get mad is counter-productive.  It may produce the short term result that you want (compliance) but never the long term result (enduring obedience born of understanding and love of you and of God).  I also believe that when we are contentious with our children we teach them a pattern of contention with us and with each other.

So, I owe Miss R five dollars.  I have a deal with the kids that if I raise my voice I owe them five dollars.  She told me that I yelled. I don't think I yelled, but I was pretty mad and I am sure I raised my voice.  I have learned that when I am that mad I just can't even open my mouth.  I have to wait until the blood stops boiling.

Yet inspire of these naughty things, I so deeply love children.  I love to see their happiness, their laughter, their love.  They are so pure and so good.  I love to make their life happy.  I find deep satisfaction from being a mother.  I don't think there is any profession that could even come close to what I experience here.  I wonder sometimes what I will do once I have raised my small brood.  I guess I want more of the same thing.  Teach Kindergarten?



Twister is so, so, so fun.  He is the real Curious George and gets into plenty of mischief, but he is always smiling and happy and laughing.  I love him.  He makes me an all onlooking observers laugh.  The day in the library made all of the patrons' day.

Master I has reached the point in the school year where it isn't all rosy for him.  He has frustrations with how little time he has to play because of a long day at school followed by homework.  He feels like teachers are made at him all day long even though he is a good kid.  And he is annoyed with one of his friends that constantly pinches him.  I asked him what he thought he could do about this last situation.  He told me, "I don't know.  I have already yelled at ____ to tell him to stop.  What am I supposed to do? Talk to a guidance counselor?  I hate my guidance counselor this year.  She is mean.  And I think that guidance counselors are weird.  What is the purpose anyway?  They just want to get in other people's business and listen.  Why should I talk or listen to them?"  This made me laugh so hard.  This was our conversation Friday night.  But this morning, Monday, I felt sad for him as he dreaded going to school.

He wanted me to explain to him again why I won't homeschool him.  I told him that I didn't think that he would like me telling him all day long what to do.  He already can't stand me telling him to unload the dishwasher, brush his teeth, take a shower, practice piano, etc during the small amount of time I am with him.  I told him that I worried that he would hate being with me all day having me tell him what to do.  He listened closely and then humbly nodded in agreement.  I asked him if there was anything I could do to make it better for him.  He told me that he didn't know.  I offered to let him play instead of doing our morning jobs and walking to school and that I would drive him to school last minute.  He liked that idea.  He hoped right into my bed and played on the iPad for the next half hour.  I know it isn't a good long term solution.  Just an experiment to see if listening and trying empathize would help.  I do wish he was in school for much less time.  I wish that he felt that the teachers thought of him as smart and good.  I wish that he had more time to play and I try to protect that time fiercely.

I made Miss R go to soccer this weekend.  She cried when I got out her green soccer shirt and said that she wanted to wear a dress.  The first hour is practice.  She was willing to do it as long as I did it with her.  But she flat out refused to play in the game.  We settled for cheering on the sidelines for our team.  Finally Twister had to go potty so we decided to home home.  Miss R was exuberant.  She ran for the first time all day.  Unfortunately, the running was to the car instead of on the field and while she ran she  yelled to me, "You have made me so happy!  I am so glad that I get to go home!" We really tried to make it fun.  Notice the pink soccer shoes, the pink soccer sock, and the pink soft pants.

I Hope to Laugh Someday at all of This

When I went to go help Rachel brush her hair this morning I noticed she had spots of white in it and where it was previously smooth it was now snarled and tangled. When I tried to brush her hair I asked her what she had gotten into it. She told me that she didn't put anything in it. I said it look like toothpaste. And then she told me that William had brushed her hair. I remembered how he had asked me for more toothpaste on his toothbrush and to be able to brush his teeth by himself. In his wandering while he was brushing his teeth he must have decided to start brushing Rachels hair. I saw his little, yellow, Winnie the Pooh toothbrush discarded on the ground and thought how gross it was. And  I wondered if I should just throw it away. I wasn't laughing then, but I write these things in the hopes that one day I will be able to laugh at them.

Yesterday I took the kids to the library.  It is a small town library that is the heart of the community. They call me their "best customer" and I always recognize about half of the patrons in the library from people I know or see a lot in town. It is not a place where one can do something embarrassing and be anonymous. This is the curse and the blessing of a small town.  The library has a children's section which is just the law. Isaiah asked for me to go look for a book for him and I told him that I would, but that he would have to watch twister on the loft level while I was around the corner in the main level. After a short month while I heard him tell me that he needed my help. I asked him what he needed. He told me that Twister was being crazy. I told him to put was to on his lap until I got up there. I looked for one moment longer and then started to walk up the stairs when I saw twister emerged from the come corner completely nude!
He had a huge smile on his face and for that matter, so did Master I.  We were the spectacle of the library that day. I rushed upstairs to see a pile of clothes next to a wet puddle on the ground. I learned that he had an accident and then quickly took off the wet clothes. There are challenges to potty training so young that they don't developmentally get other things... Like clothes.

Twister loves his brother and sister and hates being separated from them. When we dropped off Master I for school today he scowled and protested saying," I wuv Yeayuh!"

I was talking summer with I

My Moments of the Day with Da Sweetest Darling

In her prayers tonight she said, "Please bless me to have my peaceful time and for no one to get near me during my peaceful time."

She loves all that is cozy.  She flopped on her bed tonight and said, "I love bedtime!"

I already said that she doesn't seem to like competitive sports.  But, she loves swimming, playing at the park, dancing, and hiking.  When we are in the hiking trails around Swarthmore College she says, "These are my peaceful mountains, like my peaceful beach."

She is very feminine.  She loves to get dressed up and wants to wear a dress everyday.  Not just a dress, but a "spin dress."  It has  to have enough material to twirl when she spins.

She is very good at playing by herself or playing with Twister.  She loves to make him laugh and he worships her for this.  This is one of the reasons I don't send her to preschool.  It breaks his heart to have me drop her off somewhere and have him not be able to go.  I feel like I can teach her all that she needs to know and provide social experiences for her.  I want to be with her and I want Twister to be with her as much as we can.

She is very imaginative and sometimes this can create problems with telling the truth. Mostly I have found her imagination endearing and the foggy lines between reality and falsehood a manifestation of that.   Recently I have tried to take this more seriously and teach her not to lie, especially when it involves lying to me about something she shouldn't have done.  I am not sure if this is too harsh but I have told her, "You are a good girl, but if you lie it will destroy you and turn you bad."  I am sure that her grandmothers will cringe when they read that, but I worry that I need to warn her and be firm now. Anyway, she was quite troubled by that explanation.  She yelled at me, "NO one can destroy or take my love!"  I thought it was so profound that she chose the word love to express her goodness.  How true.

Today I was trying to get her to clean up.  There were food toys all over the ground.  Pick up these toys right now." I said firmly.  She responded by flicking her finger in the air and looked at me with a little defiance.  And then she unexplicably softened and gently said to me, "Don't worry Mom, I am just doing imaginary flicks to you."

My Twister moment of the day:  After I am done brushing his teeth he wants to do it for himself.  He is doing great, but then I see him headed towards the toilet.  I yell, "Noooo!"  But it is too late.  He swishes his toothbrush in the toilet like it was a toilet brush and then puts in in his mouth and makes slurping noises.   I sigh, discouraged that I wasn't able to prevent the disaster, and then I take the toothbrush and then he runs to the bedroom.  It's like he knows what he did was naughty, but he can't help himself.

Master I began his basketball clinic tonight.  I was amazed to see him playing so well.  He plays as a nine year old much better than I have ever been able to play.  I love watching him play.  I remember watching him play as a 6 year old and feeling that it was a painful experience.  He didn't know how to play, he wanted to be so good, and I didn't know how to teach him.  I am so grateful for the hours Mark has spent teaching him and the basketball camps that he insisted that we let Master I do.