Thursday Morning Prayer

Dear Father in Heaven, Thank you for the blessings of this day, of this week, of this year and the years preceding it. I'm grateful for the beauty of this week's snowfall, and I'm so thankful that I regained my balance so many times when I slipped and almost fell. Was it me alone? Did I have some steadying help from my guardian angel? Thank you, however you delivered the miracle, that I did not fall. Thank you for our planet, our country, our lives and fortunes. I'm grateful for the moments of optimism I felt as I watched the State of the Union and listened to the State of the State addresses. I'm grateful that I have been able to work, worship, write, read, rest, laugh, eat, sleep, dream, shower, shave, breathe, move, walk, sit, feel, love, mourn, pray and plan this week. I pray that I will continue to live life in thanksgiving. Thank you for the wonderful family, friends, associates, neighbors, citizens, activists, leaders, writers, programmers, singers, musicians, artists, strangers and all of those unseen contributors and laborers who touch my life each day. Please continue to bless them, please continue to bless me that I might not take them for granted. Bless this planet, your planet, our planet this day. Bless all of us here that we may comfort those who die, rejoice for those who are born, and help all of us who live that we might be grateful for our lives, but see beyond ourselves to those we love, those who love us, those we find easy to love and those who are not so easy to love, but need love, need a smile, need a hug, need our blood, our company, our expertise, our substance, our encouragement, our creativity this day. May we contribute what what we can with gratitude for what we have, in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Suicidal Thoughts

An edited transcription of journal entries

January 6 – Bishop and I just finished an interview. He will recommend that I be ordained a High Priest. He said I once taught him that when you can’t express a thought in the spoken word, you can write it and then burn it and let the smoke carry it away. I don’t remember telling him that. Maybe it was something I suggested in a quorum discussion long ago.


February 11 – Stake Conference. Faith and delight in keeping the commandments. Angels to bear you up. Seeking the one in need. Miracles do happen. God wants all to have love and happiness. Give up all your sins to know God. Many ways to sin. Watch yourselves, your thoughts, words and deeds. Remember and perish not. Keep commandments always. Never vary from them.


March 8 – Melancholia, depression, the blues have been called many things of the centuries. I write now because this awful guest is visiting and I don’t want him hanging around. He is boorish and robs my energy and goodness. Get thee hence, darkness. Have I brought this on myself or is it just something that comes along like bad weather. I’m unusually quiet, fidgety, and impatient. People who are perfectly patient and never complain when in pain are amazing. I'm not one of them.


April 9 – I don’t feel “normal” and I wish I could get better. I guess I’m always looking outside myself, thinking that I will find “the answer” out there somewhere. But the wise, ancient part of me knows that there really isn’t any one answer. There are approaches. Balance to be sought. Ideals to strive for. Why can't just visualizing the ideal be enough to bring some relief? I don’t have to be happy all the time, but a few moments here and there would be nice. Silence doesn’t have to be empty or lonely, but it is right now. I have sought both old and new friends. It is a labor. I can only sing certain songs and my songs are not always what they seem. If I can’t accept myself, how can I expect anyone else to?

Continue to Part 2

He will yet reveal

Some say the sole purpose of The Family: A Proclamation to the World is to define marriage as between a man and a woman. Not so! Why would the church do that to so many who fall outside that ideal? If only 1% of LDS church members are gay, that's still 138,248 gay Mormons based on the church's 2009 Statistical Report. That would fill to overflowing two facilities the size of LaVell Edwards Stadium.


Yes, the proclamation supports strong families, but not just one kind of strong family. Yes, it says "marriage between a man and a woman is ordained of God..." but it does not say that other unions are invalid. 


For example we know that marriages between one man and multiple women are also viable on the other side of the veil. The proclamation does not invalidate polygamous marriages made prior to 1890 or the present-day serial polygamist who is sealed to one wife, and then upon her death is sealed to a second, resulting an eternal polygamist marriage.

The Proclamation on the Family speaks of many ideals. Yes, it certainly is ideal for a man and a woman to marry and rear children. No argument there. But it clearly and directly acknowledges that this ideal is not always attained because of a variety of reasons:


"Disability, death, or other circumstances may necessitate individual adaptation."


It doesn't say that other circumstances may cause problems but there's nothing that can be done. It says other circumstances may necessitate individual adaptation. That powerful, inclusive sentence is a loving acknowlegement that the ideals set forth in the proclamation are sometimes unavoidably unavailable to real people in real life.


In 1922 when my grandmother was widowed as a young mother, her parents did not allow her to date after the tragic loss of her young husband. They believed that dating would violate her Temple covenants with her eternal companion. Today she would not be so tightly constrained. Today she would be encouraged to marry a second worthy husband in the Temple, but not for time and all eternity. The doctrine hasn't changed, but the intrepretation of it has. It didn't even require a revelation, just a change in attitude and, perhaps, church policy. Does anyone how if there was an official change or not?


After the 1978 revelation opening the priesthood to worthy black members of the church, Bruce R. McConkie was questioned about his many strident statements against "the Negro." In a speech entitled All Are Alike unto God he said, "Forget everything that I have said, or what President Brigham Young or President George Q. Cannon or whomsoever has said in days past that is contrary to the present revelation. We spoke with a limited understanding and without the light and knowledge that now has come into the world. We get our truth and our light line upon line and precept upon precept. We have now had added a new flood of intelligence and light on this particular subject, and it erases all the darkness and all the views and all the thoughts of the past. They don’t matter any more."


Elder McConkie thus affirmed the Ninth Article of Faith: "We believe all that God has revealed, all that He does now reveal, and we believe that He will yet reveal many great and important things pertaining to the Kingdom of God."


Fortunately we won't have to forget or set aside anything in the Proclamation on the Family if and when it is revealed that in addition to traditional marriage being ordained of God, "other circumstances" require individual and church-wide adaptation, and should be handled with as much love, accomodation and support as death or disability.


I believe that someday we will all sing with great fervor and thanksgiving Carol Lynn Pearson and Reid N. Nibley's prophetic Primary song I'll Walk with You:

If you don't walk as most people do, 

Some people walk away from you,

But I won't! I won't!

If you don't talk as most people do

Some people talk and laugh at you,

But I won't! I won't!

I'll walk with you,

I'll talk with you.

That's how I'll show my love for you.

Jesus walked away from none.

He gave his love to ev'ryone.

So I will! I will!

Jesus blessed all he could see,

Then turned and said,

"Come, follow me."

And I will! I will! I will! I will!

I'll walk with you,

I'll talk with you.

That's how I'll show my love for you.

Helping and Being Helped

Years ago, someone I didn't like very much at the time taught me something I'm now so glad he showed me. I don't think his intent was to teach, but teach he did. It wasn't through his words but what he did. He offered his time, talents and means to help someone who had once helped him. He did this year in and year out. It wasn't a flash in the pan. I wasn't paying much attention for a long time, but eventually I couldn't help but see that he was showing devotion, not with words but action.

Now he and the person he helped are gone, never to be seen again in this life. But his example of service lives on. I've sometimes reluctantly helped someone, based on the way I remember he helped. As I've tried to help out someone who now clearly needs my help, I've sometimes thought of my old friend with new-found appreciation and respect.

How did he do it, year after year, on hot days like today, driving in a car without air conditioning? How did he manage in the cold of winter in a broken down car without snow tires? How could he be of good cheer when the one he served was sometimes difficult, when he knew that no matter what he did, the eventual prospect was death?

Today as I worked in a similar situation, I was blessed with some insights. My old friend was able give because others had helped him when he was vulnerable. He had grown from weak to strong, but in his strength he had not forgotten those who had pioneered and sacrificed on his behalf. I thought of such things today. Where would I be without the help and sacrifices of those who have loved and supported me? As a young man, I viewed the future as an endless supply of days. Now with perhaps a majority of my lifetime behind me, time seems more valuable. So when I try to help out someone who is more than 30 years my senior, I realize just how swiftly the seven, eight or nine decades of a human life disappear.

So what does this have to do with the life of a Moho? Maybe not so much, but maybe it can be illuminated through these lyrics from Garth Brooks and Kent Blazy:

Sometimes late at night 
I lie awake and watch her sleeping 
She's lost in peaceful dreams 
So I turn out the lights and lay there in the dark 


And the thought crosses my mind 
If I never wake up in the morning 
Would she ever doubt the way I feel 
About her in my heart 


If tomorrow never comes 
Will she know how much I loved her 
Did I try in every way 
To show her every day 
That she's my only one 


If my time on earth were through 
And she must face the world without me 
Is the love I gave her in the past 
Gonna be enough to last 
If tomorrow never comes 


'Cause I've lost loved ones in my life 
Who never knew how much I loved them 
Now I live with the regret 
That my true feelings for them never were revealed 


So I made a promise to myself 
To say each day how much she means to me 
And avoid that circumstance 
Where there's no second chance 
To tell her how I feel 


If tomorrow never comes 
Will she know how much I loved her 
Did I try in every way 
To show her every day 
That she's my only one 


If my time on earth were through 
And she must face the world without me 
Is the love I gave her in the past 
Gonna be enough to last 
If tomorrow never comes 


So tell that someone that you love 
Just what you're thinking of 
If tomorrow never comes

I played with dolls

My sisters had dolls and I liked to play with them. My parents gave me toys for boys like trucks, trains, Lincoln Logs and Erector Sets. I also had weapons including toy rifles, pistols and fake knives made of rubber. Some of this stuff was kind of interesting, but not anywhere near as cool as dolls.

I also liked purses. It seemed to me that guys got ripped off just having a little wallet, when girls and moms got to have these interesting and colorful compartments to keep their stuff in. Evenually I outgrew my fascination with dolls and purses. Maybe it's because my parents steered me in other directions.

I don't have any early memories of being called a sissy, pansie, faggot, queer, homo. Not when I was a little boy. But the I think I got called all of those in junior high. It's not like I was dragging dolls to school with me or carrying around a woman's purse. But I wasn't interested in sports and I wasn't good at them, and I was interested in art. I also remember that as boys my age talked about how wonderful girls were, I was noticing the guys. Everything about them seemed noteworthy: their eyes, their hands, how they combed their hair and if they could grow decent sideburns. I couldn't.

I wonder if there had been gay-straight alliances in Utah schools 40 years ago, if I would have participated. Probably not. I knew I was gay, that I was strongly attracted to the same sex. I could admit it to myself, but not to anyone else. I remember thinking I will never, ever tell anyone. I also remember the first time I made out with a girl. I became aroused and I thought, maybe I'm not gay after all. I enjoyed dating girls. I enjoyed kissing them, but I didn't want to go beyond kissing. I heard other boys talk about their sexual adventures with girls and I thought that sounds gross. Sometimes I'm amazed that I made it through junior high and high school. Sometimes it seems a miracle that I fell in love with a woman, married her, and that together we have raised a wonderful family.

When I look at this painting of the little boy sitting on the steps, I think, I know that boy. I was once that little boy. I'm glad he got so much love and affirmation for who he was. I'm sorry that he was sometimes taunted for being different, but he did the best he could with what he had, and somehow life has turned out pretty good for him.

Other little boys who liked dolls were not so lucky. Many have died from a variety of causes. Some have been murdered. Some have killed themselves. Some have lived lives of isolation and loneliness. And some have flourished. They've lived, loved and learned. Some have married women. Some have married men. All of us are human. What we have in common is greater than our differences. All of us have the need to touch and be touched, to love and to be loved, to belong to and contribute to something greater than ourselves, something that matters, something that makes the world a better place, even it it is for just one child sitting on a step holding a doll.

Rules: The Bad, the OK, and the Wished For

April Theme: The Rules

Old rules that should continue to die - "the bad"

• If you're gay, do all you can to hide it.
• If you can't be heterosexual, fake it until you make it.
• If you marry a woman, the gay will go a way.
• If you marry a woman and the gay doesn't go a way, then it's somebody's fault.
• You would be better off dead than gay.
• All touch is sexual, so don't touch anyone but your spouse.

Existing rules that do apply - "the OK"

• If you are suicidally depressed, get professional help.
• If you marry someone and have children, make them a high priority.
• Care for yourself so you'll be able to care for your loved ones.

New rules? - "the wished-for"

• Not all touch is sexual. It is OK to touch others in appropriate ways.
• Married men, whether straight or gay, can benefit from a variety of male/male friendships.
• Marriage between a man and a woman is the heterosexual ideal, however marriage between persons of the same sex is appropriate for gay people.
• Same sex marriage is legal throughout the United States. This law is not only good for gays, it is good for society in general.

Inexplicable Tears

You can coverup brown eyes with blue or even green contacts. I've never tried it, but sometimes I've wanted to. I'm right handed but sometimes I try to write with my left hand. It makes me feel like a kid again. Not a happy kid, but a kid I can identify with. Why should it matter to me that someone I don't even know keeps deleting people from his phone and his Facebook accounts. That shouldn't bug me, should it? But it does.

I feel close to God when I pray. I sometimes feel close to God when others pray. I usually can be found attending church on Sundays, but that doesn't mean I believe everything I'm hearing. I was suicidal almost a decade ago and I've made progress in getting much healthier mentally and physically, but lately I think that I'm not going to do anything to cause myself to die an early death, but hey, if I end up in a fatal accident or with some terminal illness and if I died sooner rather than later, well that would be OK. Maybe I'd get to meet Stuart of some other people I miss.

Sometimes I get down on myself for all the meds I take. Do I really need all this stuff? But wow, if I go a few days without taking my antidepressants, I definitely notice my mood darkening. I don't think I've ever been this honest in any of my earlier blog entries. I pride myself on having something positive to say. But maybe that's sometimes like wearing blue contacts when you've really got brown eyes.

I've got so much to be grateful for. I really do. I'm sitting here using all ten fingers to type with for crying out loud. Yes, my feet and toes are cold, but I've got both feet and five toes on each foot. The truth is I can't see very well without my glasses, but sometimes it's nice just to take them off and let the world be blurry. It's really cool that I can blog and that I have a few friends and acquaintences who read this. I'm glad for the contact.

Four of you I've actually met face-to-face. I'm grateful for that. You've seen me. You've seen the thinning hair and the thick glasses and it didn't seem to matter to you. I'm glad I'm not invisible. I've also chatted on line with some of you that I haven't met. I've seen your faces in pictures but you haven't seen mine, and yet still we've had some pretty good talks, haven't we? I guess it's silly to think about people deleting people. Only God and murderers do that. Just because someone deletes a name doesn't mean a person has been deleted. I guess I needed to talk through that to make myself feel better.

For some reason right now I have tears in my eyes. It's not like I'm sobbing or anything. I'm not sure if these are tears of sadness or gratitude. Maybe both. I don't taste my tears often enough to know what they taste like. It always surprises me that they're not as salty as I imagine them to be.

I don't mind all that much that it's cold and dark outside. I got outside into the sunshine several times in the course my day today. I expect to see the sun again tomorrow and I'll go to church and I'll feel the spirit, not necessarily because of what's said, but because the music is someething I grew up with and be with people who are trying, for the most part, to be kind.

Dear Stuart,

Your name is getting mentioned more frequently here in the Mohosphere as we approach the 10th anniversary of your death. My own suicide would have followed your's a little over a year later. You took your life on February 25, 2000. My death would probably been sometime between March and August of 2001.

That's when I felt the lowest, but strangely back then you weren't at all on my mind. I'd heard your story, but somehow I didn't relate to it then. I didn't want to commit suicide to send a message, I simply wanted to end the pain. I wonder how many gay Mormon suicides are more like mine almost was, than the more public way you chose to change the scenery.

If I had gone through with it, I probably wouldn't have left a note. I might have even tried to make it look like an accident. But when I felt my most discouraged, rather than plan my exit, I tried to find a way to hang on. Maybe you did that, too. Maybe if I'd been in your shoes, I'd have done what you did, but I was in my shoes.

So what happened? Well your story is still being told and so is mine. Your story is told by others. Your parents tell it. Those who knew you tell it, but mostly I think, your story gets told by those who didn't know you at all. Your story continues to evolve without you. Perhaps it will always do so.

My story I continues to evolve, too, but at least I'm here still adding to it. Some of it is here in my blog. My journals have some of it. My friends and family have bits and pieces. I guess both of our stories are going to go on and on, you're just not in a place where you can still actively contribute to the process.

Or are you? Maybe you and presidents Kimball and Hinckley are talking. Maybe Elders Faust, Maxwell and Brown are in the discussion, too. Maybe you have had some meetings with Evan Stephens, and I sometimes wonder if he's still writing hymns. Maybe all of you are trying to send some messages to all of us and we're just not paying attention.

I want to believe that it's not just your mortal life and death that have made a difference to so many of us. I want to believe that it is also the life you continue to lead. That's what I want to believe.

What I do know is that I'm glad to be alive. I'm glad there are such things as suicide helplines, counselors, medications, prayer, scriptures, loving family, amazing friends and a compassionate Bishop, or two or three. I'm glad I've kept going to church. I'm glad I'm still here in this life, in this neighbohod, in this ward and stake, in this workplace and in my own home. I'm grateful for old friends and some new ones, too. In all of these venues and relationships there is room to learn and grow. I thank you for the role you've played (and are playing?) in helping all of us gain a greater understanding of each other and some of the challenges we face.

I'm looking forward to meeting you someday Stuart, but I hope it isn't anytime soon. I guess that's because I've found out that I pretty much like life. It was awful in 2001 for me, but in 2002 it got a little better, and it 2003 and 2004 it got a ton better and now here we are in the year 2010 and you know what? For a decade that started pretty poorly for me, it's been pretty good. What's amazing is that I don't think these good years would have been possible without that dark time in my life in 2001. It was terrible, but it was also instructional.

I hope you get a chance to read this. I just wish you were still here with us.

See you on the other side,
Ned

Visions, Hugs and Kisses

I need to draw closer to Heaven. I need to affirm my testimony that there is an unlimited source of comfort, encouragement, love, support, and inspiration. I need to realize once again that our Heavenly Parents and our Savior are as concerned about us as any loving earthly family would be about loved ones far away from home on an important mission.

I've thought along these lines several times in the last few days, and it happened again this morning when I learned of this story told by Melvin J. Ballard in 1917:

"I had been on the Fort Peck Reservation for several days with the brethren, solving the problems connected with our work among the Lamanites. Many questions arose that we had to settle. There was no precedent for us to follow, and we just had to go to the Lord and tell Him our troubles, and get inspiration and help from Him. On this occasion I had sought the Lord, under such circumstances, and that night I received a wonderful manifestation and impression which has never left me. I was carried to this place—into this room. I saw myself here with you. I was told there was another privilege that was to be mine; and I was led into a room where I was informed I was to meet someone. As I entered the room I saw, seated on a raised platform, the most glorious being I have ever conceived of, and was taken forward to be introduced to Him.

"As I approached He smiled, called my name, and stretched out His hands towards me. If I live to be a million years old I shall never forget that smile. He put His arms around me and kissed me, as He took me into His bosom, and He blessed me until my whole being was thrilled. As He finished I fell at His feet, and there saw the marks of the nails; and as I kissed them, with deep joy swelling through my whole being, I felt that I was in heaven indeed. The feeling that came to my heart then was: Oh! If I could live worthy, though it would require four-score years, so that in the end when I have finished I could go into His presence and receive the feeling that I then had in His presence, I would give everything that I am or ever hope to be!”
(Melvin J. Ballard—Crusader for Righteousness, Salt Lake City: Bookcraft, 1966, p. 65–66.)

My questions for you are: Have you had experiences like this? What were your feelings? Is such male-on-male smiling, hugging and kissing appropriate in other contexts? If so, when? The first time I witnessed two men I know kiss on the lips was only a few years ago. The kiss was between a dying father and his adult son. I later held the dying man's hand while his wife and son were out of the room. I'm not sure I would have done so if I had not witnessed the kiss he exchanged with his son. Have you had experiences like this? What were your feelings? What can we moho's learn from such experiences?