Category: Uncategorized

  • Attack on Mormons

    Attack on Mormons

    Legend has it my grandfather has a hidden room in his home for the day that followers of Christ are rounded up like Jews were in Europe during World War II. I spent much time trying to find that room without luck. I’m still not convinced it doesn’t exist.

    Beth and I recently finished a TV show called Under the Banner of Heaven. If anyone wants to see every anti-Mormon falsehood spouted in 7 hour+ long episodes, I highly recommend it.

    A story made headlines recently. A highly recruited quarterback from Utah was visiting an Oregon football game. He left the game when the student section started chanting “f- the Mormons.”

    The play “The Book of Mormon.”

    Southpark parodies.

    Imagine another religion being treated this way. Can you picture the outrage if a student section chanted “f- the Jews” for example? I felt wrong just typing that.

    And yet the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is not shielded from this. Why is that?

    Under the Banner of Heaven being my most recent exposure to anti-Mormon media, that’s where I’ll focus this post, with my point at the end. Stay with me. Even if you haven’t seen the show (and despite what I said above, I DON’T recommend it) this will still be pertinent.

    An article was written in the Atlantic about the show. That article can be found HERE.

    If you’re interested, you should read the whole article. It’s well written and helped me understand the underlying feelings I had about this show.

    Here are some highlights from that article that I agree with:

    “[It] felt like seeing my religious life in a funhouse mirror, each detail-from the sacred to the mundane-twisted and stretched and distorted to appear frightening and strange.”

    When talking about the absurd use of the phrase “Heavenly Father” in the show, “But I gave up after a few episodes [counting the weird usages of “Heavenly Father], once I realized what was going on. To say that I have never met a Mormon in my life who talks like this would be to miss the point. These lines were not intended as shibboleths for Mormon viewers-they are there to serve a stereotype, to exoticize a people and flatten their faith tradition.”

    “Under the Banner of Heaven is one of the most openly hostile treatments of a minority religious group to appear in popular American entertainment this century. It is also an unqualified hit.”

    I could go on about the flawed and insulting nature of this show.

    Elder Bednar, an apostle for our church, was asked his thoughts on the show. He responded, “We don’t like it, but we don’t spend all of our time responding to it. We have a mission to fulfill.”

    The writer of the Atlantic article stated he initially felt good about Bednar’s response. Then on further thought:

    “But almost immediately, I doubted myself. Wasn’t I just taking the same path of least resistance – above-the-fray politeness, studious nonconfrontation – that Latter-day Saints always seem to take when faced with stuff like this?”

    This is exactly the struggle I deal with. I am in a constant “polite, studious nonconfrontation”-like attitude. It’s how I was raised. I was pretty heated by the end of the final episode. Episodes 1-6 I was just “bluh.” A feeling of, “whatever. They’re making us look weird, the show is weird.” Then that turned into the show is upsetting me. I found myself having an unsettled feeling after each episode that I couldn’t quite pinpoint. Truly, it wasn’t until reading the Atlantic article that full outrage started to settle inside me. How could a show treat my religion like this? Where would it be acceptable to treat any other religion like this? What’s next?

    It was to the point that I didn’t mention to friends I was watching this show because I didn’t want them to watch it. This included close friends that know me and my religion and (I hope) would see through much of the nonsense of the show.

    I hesitated to share because maybe this fear of others seeing my religion as cooky exists inside me. I know what my religion is. It’s precious to me. It’s sacred. It has provided every blessing in my life, I can’t spit upon and laugh at my Church, it’s too important to me.

    So, Bednar’s statement. I like it, in that, it’s how I would respond. Forgive. Turn the other cheek. Don’t get emotional. Don’t get upset. Above all else, don’t let them see you’re upset. But then, at what point do you stop being a cultural punching bag? Is there a point where you stand up for the church and religion that you love? After all, I know this to be Jesus Christ’s Church. Is a show like this really insulting Him? That causes real outrage inside me that I’m willing to speak out about. Spit on me, spit on my faith, spit on my church and my religion. Don’t spit on Him. Maybe that’s ultimately what got me upset. The idea being perpetuated through this show that it was Christ’s church that caused some extremist men to kill a woman and her daughter. I feel for Brenda’s family, her sister, who rightly pointed out that this show unfairly portrays her murder.

    And as the article points out, where is the apology? Where is the script before the show plays saying “Mormons are not an extremist, murdering people. This is a dramatization.”

    In an age where Disney has to apologize before The Lady and the Tramp, Under the Banner of Heaven needs no disclaimer apology for this? Remember that football player at the Oregon game, Oregon apologized for their student section’s behavior.

    As the article points out, we are moving backwards. Rather, we are being pushed backwards. Saints rarely live peacefully in a wicked world.

    What other religion could be ridiculed, spit upon, and disrespected in this way, without public outcry and support, besides the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints?

    In our forgiveness, we laugh it off and shrug. But a dangerous thing is happening out there. As Satan does in any dispensation where there are Saints to God, he is stirring up the masses against us.

    This leads to my point.

    The attack of this show on a religion seems like a small enough matter. “Who really cares” some might say, as I did, initially. It does matter. The attack on religion, on faith, on Christ is increasing daily. It seems dramatic to even consider the idea that Latter-day Saints could be rounded up like what happened 80 years ago. We can trick ourselves into thinking we’ve gotten better as a world and as society since then.

    Media attack on faith and on Christ are widespread and increasing. It’s not just the Church of Jesus Christ being attacked when shows and plays and TV openly mock it, it’s all followers of Christ and ultimately Christ Himself.

    This attack is going to increase, and we need to be aware of it. I hope that all my friends and especially those who don’t believe in God realize how important this is to be aware of. Believers need the support of nonbelievers in our defense. Otherwise, this world becomes a scary world for those of faith.

    Maybe it’s time for a return trip to my grandparent’s home to search out that hidden room. I hope it’s not.

  • Toddlers and Infants

    Toddlers and Infants

    I can’t remember where I first heard it, but I once heard teenagers described as assassins of happiness. I think toddlers are assassins of stability. You are constantly on edge about what chaotic thing is about to happen when around toddlers.

    Chaos Personified

    I’m convinced this anarchic nature of toddlers is not by coincidence.

    Beth and I have followed the expeditious family planning path thus far. Ivy and Sage are separated by exactly 21 months.

    I love toddlers. Ivy is so much fun. She is also so unstable. This, I think, is the part that is no coincidence. Infants are more predictable. They eat, they cry, they poop, they sleep. That’s about it. You can pretty much rely on those 4 activities from an infant.

    Fun

    Ivy’s standard response to any question is “no, yes! No! Yes, No! No, yes!”

    A normal interaction with Ivy:

    “Ivy, do you want some blueberries?”

    “NO! YES!”

    As I walk to the kitchen to get her blueberries –

    “No, no, no, no, no.”

    I turn around.

    “You don’t want blueberries?”

    Ivy – “Yes!”

    “You do want blueberries?”

    Ivy – “No!”

    I walk away from kitchen, giving up on the blueberry mission.

    Ivy – “No, no, no, no, no.”

    I stop, “Ivy, do you want blueberries?”

    Big, beautiful, irresistible, dimpled smile – “Yes.”

    We get blueberries.

    Ivy. Joy. Blueberries.

    Sage’s standard response to any question is to stare at me blankly. This infant response defines stability.

    Stability

    I love Ivy, but when I need a break from the hectic instability of a toddler, I go to Sage for some reliability. They are equally loved if only for the sake of my sanity.

    I love being a dad.

    All the toddler attitude:

  • Lost

    Lost

    I wrote this our first Sunday at church with Sage.

    I don’t know what I wanted out of life as a teenager. I wasn’t someone who pictured certain things. I don’t remember picturing what my ideal life would be.

    Today we sat in church for the first time with Sage. She is 8 days old. She was next to me in her car seat, sound asleep. Ivy was on the other side of me and Beth was next to her.

    Then it hit me. This is everything I could want out of life.

    I grew up in an LDS household. My family went to church. I have lots of siblings. I don’t know if back then I realized how much I would want this. There were large portions of my life where I convinced myself that wasn’t what I wanted. But it was always there, inside me, whether I acknowledged it or not. A deep desire to have a family.

    I realize now, I always wanted a family. Right now, with my two daughters and my wife, being at church, there is nothing more I could ask for in life. This is joy.

    I work with the 11-15 year old boys in our church. After that thought came to me in sacrament meeting, I got to share it with them.

    I don’t know what those boys want out of life. I didn’t know at that age. I was able to bear my testimony to them that there is no greater joy in this life than having children, and I wished it for each of them. I told them they need to figure out what they want out of life. I told them I hoped they could find the joy I’ve been able to find.

    It was a long journey for me to get here. In that same class with the boys we had a lesson on Isaiah and the iron rod was brought up as a symbol of something greater. One of the boys asked the question: how does the iron rod, which represents the word of God, help us get to the tree of life, which represents Heaven? I told him, it is so easy to get lost. And without the word of God and His commandments, getting lost is almost inevitable. I told this boy I hoped he never had to get lost.

    I got lost. There were many times I didn’t know if I’d ever make it back.

    I often wonder why I deserve so much that God has given me. The answer must be that I don’t deserve anything. He just loves us so much, He’s willing to give us what our hearts truly desire. Whether that be in this life or the next, God has given us everything and will continue to do so. It took me a long time to realize what my heart truly desired. God let me take the long winding road here probably so I could truly appreciate it.

    I do appreciate it.

    I am grateful for the family God has given me. I am grateful for His Church. I am grateful that I’m no longer lost. I couldn’t ask for anything more.

  • Vulnerable

    Vulnerable

    I listened to a self-love, guided meditation this morning. I was guided to picture myself as a young boy. The prompt was to say comforting words to that young boy. May I be happy. May I be safe. May I be healthy. May I live with ease. Each of these was followed with the guidance to remember a time I felt those things. “Remember a time you felt safe.”

    As I pictured that young boy in my mind, using old pictures and old family home videos to conjure up what I looked like, a deep emotion came over me. I started to cry.

    As I picture that young boy, and as I picture myself today, I see my father, my dad. What pressures did he feel raising 6 kids, working, going to school, and trying to keep it all together?

    I worry. I fear. I doubt. I pray daily that I can have patience and comfort in God’s plan. I am so blessed. Being blessed doesn’t always make this life easy. This life is challenging. It’s meant to be.

    I don’t think we talk often enough about the pressures of fatherhood. There are now two lives that completely depend on me for everything: Food, water, home, toys. (Of course, Beth is here too and I in no way mean to take away from motherhood).

    I have a family that relies on me to provide. There is a level of pressure that comes along with this that isn’t discussed often enough.

    I love this video:

    It perfectly captures fatherhood.

    I feel happy, safe, healthy, and loved because of what a Father (God) has always provided for me, and for much of my life a father has provided for me.

    I know we should be able to talk about it, the pressures, but dads don’t. We walk around with a burden and a pressure. It sometimes feels like the weight of the world is on our shoulders. Little lives depend on us. We work, trying to provide a life for our children. We come home and we continue to work. We are horses, we are friends, we are disciplinarians, we are a lot.

    If you have a father in your life that seems like he has it all together, if you see a father around you that seems stressed, if you interact with a father that seems angry, if you have a father in your life that seems frustrated, if you see a father that seems like he’s carrying a heavy burden that he can’t share with anyone: he probably is. Hug that man. Fathers need more hugs. Not hugs of pity but hugs of sympathy, hugs of appreciation, hugs of understanding. Understanding that this world is stressful. This life is hard. This life can be scary. And sometimes, as a father, you feel you’re the one battling back those realizations and experiences for your kids for as many moments as you possibly can. That is a difficult task. Because one day your children will learn what you have learned. That life can be hard and scary. You protect them from it as long as you can, but one day they will know.

    As a father, knowing that day will one day come for your little, precious gifts can pull your heart, stretch it in a nearly painful way. And you can realize how your (Heavenly) Father feels, watching us grow in sometimes painful ways.

    I know that fatherhood is important. I know that it’s hard. I know that it’s rewarding.

    I know I have a Father that allows me these experiences so I can grow. I know I have a father here that did so much for me while I grew to my own realization that life is hard. I was sheltered for so long. And I owe that to loving parents here, and there.

    I am grateful to them for that.

  • The Eyes of God

    The Eyes of God

    I don’t think anything makes me feel closer to God than staring into the eyes of my babies. I’ve written about it before HERE. I don’t remember this specifically with Ivy, though I’m sure it happened. But with Sage I’ve stared into her eyes and it’s the most outstanding, humbling feeling.

    What did I do to deserve this gift?

    As I hold Sage and she begins to drift off into sleep, while comfortably in my arms, I wonder what I did to deserve so much trust. She is so comfortable in my arms, so content, so peaceful, so trusting. Why does she trust me? What did I do to earn that trust?

    Nothing.

    Or maybe everything.

    I don’t know how Sage, Ivy, and I interacted before coming here. Before coming to earth were we best friends, running around, shooting hoops, reading books, taking walks? Maybe I did earn that trust.

    What did I do to earn the trust of God, to send His daughters to me?

    As I stare into Sage’s eyes, I see the eyes of God.

    She is His daughter. She is of His lineage. She is a princess, not of me, but of Him. And as I stare into her eyes, I think that’s the overwhelming, outstanding, humbling feeling I get, that I described above. It’s looking into the eyes of God.