I was totally gobsmacked when I fell in love with this book. I mean I LOVE history, but to have enjoyed a historical narrative so much - who am I?
I can't perfectly put my finger on why I loved this. I have read a fiction series which takes place at the same time, the main characters being a fictitious family interacting with the actual real-life people mentioned in this book. I've read scriptural accounts of parts of this book. I've read very dry histories and some journal excerpts. But whoever came up with the brilliant idea of writing all of this information in a narrative history with any dialogue being actual quotes from people's journals so that there was nothing at all fictitious about it...golden!
Hmm. How to get out everything that's in my heart in the few minutes I have before I need to sleep (because I haven't made the kids breakfast all week and I have to get up in time to make pancakes tomorrow)?
God's restoration of the gospel of Jesus Christ through Joseph Smith as The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints is, as I said, a very familiar story to me. It runs deep in my blood, in my heart and mind. My mom may have had her oddities, but I am forever grateful that she drilled stories about my grandparents and great-grandparents and more random relations into my brain. I know which relative signed the Declaration of Independence. I know which ancestor had 6 wives. I know which ancestors knew Joseph Smith - there's a story about a pocket watch and a horse. And all these random bits and bobs are previous to me.
This book, besides reminding me of so many strong solid imperfect people, introduced me to perspectives and parts of this oh-so-familiar story I never knew before. It reiterated to me that being good, following God, trying your hardest doesn't mean you don't sin, you don't make mistakes, you don't fail. And all of that hit home on a personal level, so very hard it hit home.
I love Joseph Smith, the first prophet of the restored gospel. I've always loved him, and I've never been one of those people seeking out stories and fault finding with him. Just no. No need. I get that he was uneducated and made mistakes (that makes me love him more), but I know he and his family were good people, honest people, seeking God through all their hardships and not losing site that He is what this life is all about, getting back to Him. This book really helped me to know way more and I thought I knew all there was to know--not even close. I could dive so much deeper going through the appendix of this bad boy, and maybe I will and maybe I won't.
As I excitedly read this book in record time (for me considering how busy I was with other things), two things hit me. First, journaling. And I can harp on this subject for way too long. I have learned that the only way for me to know how far Marianne has come is to go back and read where she was. Otherwise, I truly haven't a clue because I'm all over the place. Without many people taking the time to journal their experiences and what they felt prompted to write down, I wouldn't have been able to enjoy this book; I wouldn't have the Bible, The Book of Mormon, any record of my ancestors. Just journal people. If my kids or grandkids read this someday, JOURNAL!!! please
The second item was my testimony. You know, I dread bearing my testimony in public because I go up. I may or may not get out what my pounding heart wanted me to share, and then I get back to my seat rapido and feel all awkward. I've always wondered why that is? Is Satan trying to make me feel ashamed for sharing? Did I legit flub it up that badly? Do I feel like a doofus because I care more about what the people I shared with think of me than what God thinks? I don't have that answer yet, but what I do know is I do have a testimony, about Jesus Christ, His love and sacrifice for all the people of this earth and the divinity of each of us as children of a Heavenly Father. I know that God has given us prophets through the ages and that following the prophet can never be wrong as he is God's mouthpiece on earth. I know that their are ordinances that are necessary to return back to our Father in Heaven, that once we have faith, the desire to repent and be clean that we can be baptized and receive the gift of the Holy Ghost. I know the importance of proper priesthood authority. I know the power of temples, and I truly believe through temple ordinances I can be sealed to family forever (now whether they want to all be sealed together or to me is another matter). I know that peace and strength and wholeness and happiness are available to every single human being through Jesus Christ. There is power and strength in all the things I know to be true. They give meaning to how I treat the people I love, the people I live with and near, and these truths affect how I view all my brothers and sisters on earth. I want happiness. I want peace. Oh, don't get me wrong I would love some justice for those who do evil, kill, take pleasure in the grossest things, and use the innocent. But I believe in a perfectly just, perfectly merciful higher being whom is the only one who can truly know each of our hearts and get it all right. We all have too many flaws to give perfect justice or mercy. I put my trust in God, not man. I am so thankful for the restored gospel of Jesus Christ, the fullness of the gospel brought to the earth as the time draws near for all of Israel to be gathered. Our world is getting crazier, ready or not, and I want to stand in Holy Places and be holier, even though I am so not cream of the crop, nothing special, just plain old me. But I do know plain old me can do some good, and I'll be pleased with that.
I have to say I am all for accepting differences, and ask anyone who knows me, I won't exclude you as my friend because you believe, look, feel or think differently than me-no way-not who I am. But I think one of the hardest things for me to take living at this time is the struggles of those who have shared or sort of shared my faith, but feel uncertain or have left The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints altogether. Sometimes I understand their reasons; sometimes I don't, but I feel worried for them. I want them to have happiness. I want them to have strength and peace. I love them. And I just worry. I think back to several years ago when I had enough going wrong in life and felt hopeless enough and questioned decisions I thought God had directed me to make and questioned if all my effort was worth it to go to church and 'fake it until you make it' (possibly my least favorite phrase ever). There was a lot going on. My heart felt broken. I felt so confused. I felt so hurt. I felt SOOOOO alone. I would sometimes go to church and just cry. Imagine trying to each a YW lesson and just crying from a heavy burdent but not feeling able to talk to anyone, get questions answered, get comfort. I didn't know where to turn, and sometimes I felt even too humiliated to talk to God about all of it. Was he even there and why was he letting all of this happen? I thought about my children, my marriage, my choices. I realized I did have a testimony, some things I knew beyond nearly all doubt were true. I realized my anger and pity were probably the main thing blocking me from feeling Jesus's outstretched arms because he was there. And I committed to myself that no matter what anyone else did or said or didn't do or didn't say, I was going to be active and try harder. And I've messed up a lot ever since then, every day, but just making that choice, realizing what I already knew, instead of ruminating on all the answers I didn't have, and holding tight to what I know to be true while trying my darnedest to add light and truth to that little orb of hope has kept me going. And you know what? The more I turn to God and do my basics (which you wouldn't think would make a big difference) and the more I cry out to Him, the more I see little miracles (tiny though they may be) and me getting stronger (as painfully slow as that might be) even as life gets more complicated, more ridiculous and silly, more dramatic (teenagers and stuff), and more full of a huge list of things I don't think I can possibly ever do that I actually get done. My progress is comically slow. I slip off the path on occasion. More often I just plop down in the middle of the path hoping someone will carry me for awhile. Would you believe they never do? But there is always a hand to pull be back up, an arm around my shoulder to urge me forward when I decide, yes, I will go on. Yes, I want to enlarge my soul, and I will do what it takes. So I will keep trying. And now I know instead of fussing about why me, I realize God can use any experience good or bad we have here on earth, whether our fault, someone else's fault, just happened because this is life, or maybe something special He made just for us, to help us grow closer to Him, better, stronger, more empathetic. He asks what feels like a lot from us but gives so much more back...every....single....time.
And for anyone who reads this, I want you to know that there is room in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints for anyone and everyone on earth. It's a place for imperfect people, though, and there are definitely a lot of quirky and then some less charming cultural issues that we've got to work on so that all feel welcome all the time, but if the people were perfect and the church was perfect, we'd all get translated straight up to heaven and be like, "See ya, suckers! Bless you all." And that's not happening. But all are welcome. Just ask questions, clarify, have some faith, call people on their hurtful behaviors and then forgive as soon as possible. Above all, I think what I remind myself quite often when I have questions about doctrine or when I feel hurt by someone who is supposed to be a fellow disciple of Christ (and the thing I would say to anyone else) would be Christ is the perfect one. He is who we look to, who we worship, who we try to follow and emulate, so if you keep your eye on Him and don't worry about how you measure up to Sally or Sonny or Sue and don't judge how Pete or Pasternak are doing things-just love them for Pete's (and Pasternak's) sake, you'll be okay. You'll find you receive strength when you just try to love. The 'unlovables' are the ones who sometimes need it the most...so hard but so important. And don't trust the internet or some ticked off lunatic to give you truth. Trust the Holy Ghost, totally available from a loving Father to help anyone learn what is true and receive answers to questions.
If you have any questions about my above thoughts, comment and I will reply...unless you are a punk, and then I won't reply but will still love you. And if you read this when I am 100 and dead, I also will not reply...hauntings are a possibility, but I will have to look at my schedule.
Shoulder to the wheel people, shoulder to the wheel, with a chocolate or yoga break as necessary.
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