Scarcity and Abundance in Mormonism

“…thou knowest the greatness of God; and he shall consecrate thine afflictions for thy gain.” 2 Nephi 2:2

Seek and ye shall find has several applications. What we “find” in the Gospel of Jesus Christ is often just a reflection of our outlook on life. In other words, we project onto the gospel how we view the world and ourselves.

When I came back to the church at 16, I viewed the world as a place where there were limited resources. Life as I knew it as a young girl had been slowly ripped away from me. My parents divorced. My mom had a mental breakdown. We moved from the only place I’d ever known. I was no longer a little girl; I’d experienced too much. In my eyes, the world was a place of scarcity where people and places you love are not permanent.

While I did have a glimmer of hope in coming back to church, fear mostly guided my outlook. I worked to gain my worth back in Heavenly Father’s eyes because I had no idea that my worth had already been bought with the Savior’s atonement. So, I mistakenly measured my worth in fervent prayer and scripture study, and in conforming the best I could to what seemed to constitute the life of a Mormon woman.

However, my pursuits were futile because I was never going to be like the girls who were raised in homes with attentive moms who make crafts for every season, teach church classes with object lessons and printouts, and who bring casseroles to neighbors in need. Instead, my sister and I were pretty much on our own. Mom was gone and severely mentally ill. Dad was busy figuring out life after divorce and working to support us. I was left feeling fundamentally flawed, because I didn’t fit the Mormon mold.

Going to Brigham Young University only magnified my seeming deficit. I imagined that everyone there had come from intact proclamation families who loved them unconditionally and nurtured their talents and academic abilities. I put the church and its people on a pedestal.

For many years I deeply resented the hand I’d been dealt. I remember thinking, I could have been more accomplished if only I’d been supported academically, and pushed to develop my talents. If only I hadn’t had those emotional and situational setbacks. If only I’d had parents like the Hansen’s or the Christiansen’s.

Over time, I realized that what I saw as “set backs” or a lack of resources were perfectly crafted opportunities that helped me develop the ability to withhold judgement, develop empathy for those who feel marginalized, and foster a deep relationship with Heavenly Father. Could I have developed the deep foundational relationship I have with God, a relationship that at times has been the sole thread holding together my testimony, had I not so desperately needed and relied on him as I tried to figure out if my faith was enough to qualify me for the kingdom?

Our desire to demonstrate faith and do what’s right by God sometimes gets conflated with our very human need to be accepted by the group. This tendency manifests itself in church culture when our attention becomes disproportionately focused on proscriptive limits that can be outwardly observed rather than soul enhancing pursuits which happen in private. We miss the mark when our focus is on things like hemlines rather than a humble heart or when we focus on not drinking and smoking rather than meditating about the connection between body and spirit. Burdens lighten when we make choices from a place of sincerity (seeking approval from God) rather than from a place of scarcity (seeking approval from peers).

What I understand now is that the expectation to fit any sort of “Mormon mold” is self-imposed. I can decide if I want to play the game of trying to live up to some invented social expectation or not. Yes, there might be throngs of people around me with white, subway-tiled back splashes, growing at-home businesses, and taking family pics each week. And I can be happy for their pursuits. But the only thing that I am required to offer is my faith and obedience to God. I was never meant to be like any particular Mormon woman. Each has her mission to fulfill and I have mine. We all make up the body of Christ.

During college and since, I’ve known Mormons who come from diverse backgrounds with all different types of families. All of us seemed to be imagining the same thing about the other: that everyone else had it all figured out and life has been easy for them. But none of it was true. Nobody’s had a perfect life. The one thing that we do have in common is our hope in the Savior’s atonement to heal what is beyond our own ability to repair.

Now I’m trying to view the gospel of Jesus Christ as a gospel of abundance. I try not to pray and read the scriptures to earn my worth, but instead to tap into the bounteous love of God. I don’t attempt to access the power of Jesus Christ to help me be more like the ‘perfect Mormon’, but to soften my heart and help me love more fully. I try not to let fear and scarcity guide my thoughts, but rather pray for the scales to fall from my eyes and to know my true purpose. By seeking abundance in the gospel of Jesus Christ, I’m finding my unique role in the kingdom and better understanding my true worth.

How has your view of gospel doctrine changed as you’ve grown? What “wicked traditions” or false premises have you had to shed to truly embrace the gospel of Jesus Christ? What do you seek from the gospel? Are you finding what you are seeking?



 

The Price of Beauty

I was in 9^th grade when I began to understand that beauty was a societal construct. One day during math, I heard Lamar Hendricks, a charismatic and handsome 10^th grader say, “Dude that girl is thick; she so fine,” referring to Gina Lopez as she walked out of the classroom. I was confused. Did he really just say that a female, who is “thick”, could be considered attractive? I thought to myself, “Forget them white boys.”

I was reminded of this experience when I taught high school in Mexico City. Boys would talk about thin girls as too skinny and medium or heavier girls as attractive. It blew my mind and I further understood that definitions of beauty are subjective and totally made up.

While widening our concept of physical beauty is definitely a step in the right direction a la Dove ads, it still objectifies women, much the way Lamar certainly was. It still says that a woman’s body equals her beauty and her worth. Is that objectification inevitable and okay as long as we have a broad definition of beauty?  Or to what extent should our self-esteem be intertwined with our appearance? And how much time and energy should we devote to our appearance?

I’ve had many debates with people about whether it is virtuous to care about what we look like.  My argument has always been that we should look “neat and comely” which I interpret to mean, clean and presentable for the occasion. But others say it’s fine to gain confidence from trying to obtain a worldly standard of beauty. The problem is that feeling good when we look good is a double-edged sword because when we don’t think our looks measure up, our confidence decreases. I don’t want my mood or my feelings of worth to rise and fall according to my compliance with societal standards of beauty. I know they are made up and mostly by people trying to sell something.

These ideas play out in an interesting way on social media. For example, no one starts an Instagram account with pictures of women who, while still maintaining health, hygiene, and decorum, are obviously not bowing to the invented standards of beauty that we waste our time trying to achieve (eyebrows anyone?) What do we gain when we follow these popular Instagrammers? Do we think that if we buy what they are peddling we, too, might be popular?

I had a friend once tell me that she worked hard at being beautiful for no one other than herself. She was open about her plastic surgeries and her extreme dieting and exercise. She assured me that she feels good because she’s achieved the ideal and if others work hard they can feel good by achieving that ideal too. Indeed, she is winning at beauty. But even though I understand her position, I can’t accept that those who are not achieving the beauty ideal should walk around feeling bad about themselves. Oftentimes, they have much more to contribute than those who spend their time working on their looks and their IG photos.

Because beauty and body image have been such huge issues for me, I’ve always admired no nonsense women who seem oblivious to trends and beauty norms such as dying or highlighting hair, wearing makeup, and dressing for anything other than function.  But alas, even though I know beauty standards are made up, and even with all my high-minded ideals, I still succumb to the hype. I am far from immune. I highlight my hair and want an updated wardrobe. Despite major improvements with my body image issues, I still care how heavy I feel. So, where is the line between maintaining health, hygiene, and decorum, versus self-obsession and vanity?

If we look at what is preached from the pulpit, the message seems clear. Elder Holland has said, “In terms of preoccupation with self and a fixation on the physical, this is more than social insanity; it is spiritually destructive, and it accounts for much of the unhappiness women, including young women, face in the modern world. And if adults are preoccupied with appearance—tucking and nipping and implanting and remodeling everything that can be remodeled—those pressures and anxieties will certainly seep through to children.” It seems something is getting lost in translation when Salt Lake City is ranked with one of the highest number of plastic surgeons per capita (trailing only Miami). The plastic surgeons wouldn’t be there if there wasn’t a demand. Where is the line between desiring to look good and being too preoccupied with looking like what the media says is beautiful?

Beauty and weight are so tricky for woman because Satan has inserted himself into this conversation. He knows that if he has us guessing about our worth, we become more desperate for love and attention. When we feel desperate we are vulnerable and more easily accept counterfeit sources of validation.

After Moses had seen God and beheld his glory, Satan appeared and tried to trick Moses into believing he too was a God. Moses could quickly tell that Satan was lying because Satan possessed none of the glory Moses experienced when in God’s presence. When we continuously take time to commune with God through prayer, scriptures study, nature walks, meditation, service, temple attendance etc., our spirits become more adept at feeling the glory of God in our lives. If we are practiced at recognizing the glory of God, when Satan comes at us with his fake, worldly glory, we, like Moses, can discern the difference.

I’m 40 now and the truth is I care a lot less than I used to about how I look. But, I still care. And maybe, as a wise friend pointed out, it’s okay that I do…as long as caring about my looks doesn’t interfere with things that are more important like being on time, proper attention given to my family and others, and responsible allocation of resources (asking myself if purchasing this beauty treatment is living beyond my means or if the money is more responsibly spent elsewhere).

Sometimes, I sincerely wish I could just wear shapeless caftans, orthotic shoes, and let my patches of grey hair grow out. I’m not that liberated yet. You’ll know I’ve made it once I stop posting on Instagram.
 

Help me better understand the motivation behind why we care about the way we look. How much of it is biological? How much of it is trying to get others to lust after us or envy us? Is dressing up a way for you to express yourself? Do you ever tire of caring about how you look? Or do you even care at all?

Accepting Truth from Non-Members: What Dad and South Park Have in Common

Dad was in the kitchen engaging in his evening ritual: a cocktail of Scotch and water. And as usual, he had some jazz standards playing to help him relax. I sat on the sofa enjoying the breeze blowing in through the open door from the beach across the street. Each summer that I came home from Brigham Young University, I grew to appreciate the perfect Southern California climate I’d taken for granted in high school.

The light from the setting sun painted the room with golden light. But, despite the beautiful evening, I sat in distress. Too bad I couldn’t have a cocktail to take the edge off. I mean, I was 21, and legally I could. But when I was 16, I’d decided to become active in the Mormon church. So instead of joining my dad for a drink, which I’m sure he would have heartily welcomed, I sat ready to go meet my date, unable to bring myself to leave.

That summer, like whenever we were in the same vicinity, I picked up my relationship with my on-again, off-again non-Mormon boyfriend. Yet, as the years went by, it became harder to brush aside our major difference: religion. I’d often reel over how we could get past the religion piece, figuring there must be a solution I just wasn’t seeing, a way for me to remain faithful and still maintain the relationship.

In an uncharacteristic move, I opened up. “I don’t know what to do, Dad.”

Perceptively, he knew what I was referring to without me explicitly saying. He took a sip of his drink and shifted his eyes towards mine with a knowing glance. “Stick with your own kind,” he said.

I laughed, amazed that he knew what I was referring to and at his very politically incorrect way of giving advice. Yet, his words would be the nudge I needed to help me consider moving on from a relationship that didn’t feel right.

At that time, like a self-righteous 21-year-old, I figured there wasn’t much my dad could say that would impact me. After all, I was Mormon and he wasn’t. But when he spoke that phrase, I recognized that his fatherly advice was wise and inspired, even if partially by J&B.

This instance was just one of many making up the long, slow tutorial from God that I am no more spiritually evolved nor wise than my non-member friends and family. There are many important lessons I have learned from having relationships with people who believe differently than I do.

My dad is a jokester. I used to get extremely offended by the wise cracks he’d often make about my religion. When I was in my early twenties it would get me really worked up. “Why doesn’t he know that there are certain things you don’t joke about?” I ‘d think.  “To put down my religion is to put me down.”

But in my late twenties, I had an epiphany. I realized that these jokes weren’t about me. Joking was his way of reaching out, for better or for worse. I could choose to take it personally, or I could let it roll off my shoulders and love him anyway. When I realized his jokes were more about him than about me, everything changed. I somehow didn’t take offense anymore. Even though his jokes continued, they miraculously didn’t bother me. He is loving and generous; it would be foolish to allow something like the way he jokes to ruin our relationship.

I have been blessed since I made the decision to love, instead of to be offended. We’ve grown close and, almost two years ago, my family even moved 10 minutes away from him. He has been such a blessing and example in my life. My dad is a hard worker. With the Lion’s Club he serves selflessly in the community. He is a successful entrepreneur but will paint sidewalks in the ghetto and scrub down greasy grills for community events. He goes to Mexico to donate glasses and fixes up campgrounds for the blind and sight impaired.  I could have easily missed learning from him and enjoying all the love he gives to me and my family if I’d chosen to be offended and to consider myself more righteous than him.

My older sister is talented and vivacious—a free spirit. To be with Terra is to be expanding your frame of reference. When I decided to be Mormon at 16, she remained decidedly not Mormon.  And throughout the years, she’s challenged me. She cleverly uses Mormon teachings to get me to see things her way. She says things like, “If you believe so much in being Christlike, then why won’t you help me with this project.”  Or, “If you believe so much in family, why won’t you travel (from your home in Mexico City even though you have four kids) for this sibling’s weekend I planned.” She’s always had a way of making me think about whether I’m living what I profess to believe.  More than any of that, she is a constant learner. Whether its massage, aromatherapy, yoga, or gut health, she gets certified or becomes an expert in whatever she’s interested in. When I’m around her she makes me believe I am grand and that I should be sharing my gifts with the world. Since she is always creating, she gets me creating and reminds me how good it feels to create and share it. At first, I’d get all bent out of shape when she’d do things like question women’s roles in the church or show me the memorable South Park episode about the Book of Mormon. (It’s really quite accurate, just a little irreverent.) But over time, her critiques of the church led me to research and find out more deeply why I believe and, also, to be able to admit there are aspects of church culture that bother me. In short, she has helped to deepen my faith.

So much of my self-righteous thinking has been challenged by my non-member family and friends. I believe the truth necessary for salvation is contained within the Gospel of Jesus Christ. However, that does not mean we can claim to live that truth better than everyone else. I’ve seen so many non-members who live and understand aspects of the Gospel far better than I ever have. While they may not know they are living in accordance with Gospel truths, to the extent they are, it blesses their lives and the lives of the people around them.

The Book of Mormon prophet Jacob records a similar situation. He explains to his people that among them there are non-believers that are keeping certain commandments more fully than the believers. He tells them, “because of this observance, in keeping the commandment[s],…the Lord will be merciful into them; and one day they shall become a blessed people."

God knows all and loves all. He loves the non-Members of our family just as much as he loves us. In fact, it is my belief that we need the foil that only those of differing beliefs can provide for our faith to mature. While we do have the Gospel of Jesus Christ, we are light years away from understanding all that it’s truths encompass or how to live those truths completely. God provides us with family, friends and neighbors of other faiths to help us get closer to understanding the truth about who we really are and how much he loves and cares personally for all of his children.

What lessons have you learned from your relationships with people outside of your faith tradition/worldview?

Illusions of the First Law of Heaven

There I sat, smoking a cigarette, explaining the Plan of Salvation as I’d learned it back in Heber, Utah as a child going to Sunday School. It was Saturday night in the spring of 1993. I sat on the balcony of our rented beach apartment talking to a friend about the meaning of life. I was 16 and had experienced sadness and disappointment that left me empty inside. I’d gone through many phases searching to fill the void within. I tried hanging out with punks, gangsters, hippies, and the so called popular kids. I couldn’t fully embrace any of these lifestyles because everything felt so contrived, like we were all pretending to be something we weren’t. Maybe it was just me doing the pretending.

This particular Saturday night, I decided to stay home instead of going to yet another Long Beach house party with my sister. Instead, my friend came over and we found ourselves philosophizing about human existence as we understood it.

During the course of our conversation, I all of the sudden heard myself saying something to the effect of, “Yeah, there are all these commandments which sound difficult to keep, but they really just help us stay away from stuff that harms us and lead us to the things that will bring us happiness.”

I was unwittingly bearing my testimony leaving Heavenly Father an opening. He made his move.

The spirit filled my soul and said, “Don’t you want happiness?”

Yes! I yearned for it. Living in a broken home, making bad choices, and having no direction, left me aching for light and love in my life.

Before bed that night, I knelt to pray. It’d been a while. As I prayed, I felt the spirit envelop me and let me know I was needed. I felt that Heavenly Father needed me and my future family needed me. For a lost girl of 16, the message that I was needed was crucial.

I set my alarm, and went to church the next morning. It'd been a while...quite a while.

That decision to obey changed the direction of my entire life.

Obedience is the utmost act of faith because with our actions we tell Heavenly Father: I trust you. I trust that by keeping the commandments, I will be blessed.

But blessed how?

Does obedience really bring happiness?

We’ve all known people who faithfully keep the commandments, but who still experience heart-wrenching trials. The death of a loved one. Debilitating illness. Decisions by loved ones that they don’t agree with or understand. I’ve heard some people, when faced with these situations say things like, “I did everything I was supposed to do. I went on a mission, I got married in the temple, I paid my tithing and what good did it do me?” Because I haven’t been through their trials, I don’t presume to judge them. What’s interesting about their question though is that it implies a belief that obedience ensures that everything will go the way they expect. And when life doesn’t turn out the way they anticipate, they wonder if obedience is worth it.

Why would we be obedient to the commandments if there are no guarantees in this life?

What do we mean when we sing the line, “Keep the commandments in this there is safety, in this there is peace” or when we read the phrase repeatedly in the Book of Mormon that, “If ye keep my commandments ye shall prosper in the land?” We need to break down what such phrases mean, because no one should be led to believe that keeping the commandments results in a happily-ever-after. Keeping the commandments does not guarantee an absence of sadness and trauma in our lives.

Yes, in keeping the commandments there is safety from unnecessary trials. Heavenly Father knows our lives will be very hard, so some of the commandments such as those associated with the Word of Wisdom or those pertaining to fidelity in marriage help to keep our already difficult human existence from being even harder. Some problems are avoidable.

And yes, in keeping the commandments, there is peace, because our Savior walks us step by step through the inevitable trials of life, showing us how to manage and potentially grow through them. After all, He will consecrate our afflictions for our gain when we rely on him. So, there is peace in realizing that an omniscient creator is pointing out the next step and aware of us. My most treasured moments in life are when Heavenly Father communicates to me so personally that I know the message is from him. That is in part the peace we sing about. 

Yet, we need to be careful about what we claim the promises of obedience really are.

The blessings of obedience come in the form of refined character and a purified soul.  Once we begin to look at the ways obedience blesses us, it is clear how obedience overtime creates a tapestry of virtues that can then serve us as we pass through life’s trials.

Just looking at some of the blessings of a few commandments shows how much we truly are blessed when we obey:
Paying tithing teaches generosity, being part of a community, humility, restraint, and protects against entitlement.

Honoring your parents fosters gratitude and humility. When we make a practice of being grateful we learn to focus on the positive which brings happiness and helps with problem solving. When we are humble, we can be taught of things as they really are. 

Honesty instills responsibility, hard work and accountability. Hard work and accountability contribute to successful relationships and productive lives.

These commandments and many others clearly bless our lives and enlarge our souls. For me, the biggest blessing of obedience, my promised land, is knowing that I can be the woman of whom I dream. I am her. It took a long time for me to be able to say that, but Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ did not give up on me. It was only by acquiring the attributes that come through obedience that I had eyes to see my divine nature more clearly.

    
How has obedience to the commandments of God blessed your life?

Meet the New Age Boyd K Packer

President Packer famously said, “The study of the gospel changes behavior quicker than a study of behavior changes behavior.”

How could that be?

If a smoker wants to quit smoking but continuously obsesses about how he needs to quit and how he’s addicted, chances are he’ll keep smoking because he is only thinking about his behavior. Instead, Packer suggests studying the gospel to affect change. The disgruntled smoker can study the doctrine of the body as a temple. He can analyze the promise of vitality found in the Word of Wisdom. He can discover how Christ’s power will give him power beyond his own. Packer’s quote implies that acquiring an understanding of the gospel of Jesus Christ switches our focus to the solutions found in the doctrine which motivate us to make the changes we strive for.

It makes sense that what we focus on, what we spend time thinking about, we become.

Although unwittingly, many new age teachers, from Wayne Dyer to Ester Hicks, agree with the essence of Packer’s quote. They say we must practice occupying the vibration or energy of what we want to be. For example, if we want to change our unhealthy lifestyle, these gurus suggest that we should practice occupying the energy of what we imagine a healthy person’s mindset would be. Just as Packer does, they suggest living in the solution rather than the problem. Channeling the energy of a healthy lifestyle changes behavior quicker than trying to deconstruct all the psychological reasons why one is choosing an unhealthy way of life.

Dr. Shauna Shapiro explains how science has proven that what we practice grows. It becomes part of who we are and how we perceive ourselves. This means if we say to ourselves each day, “I’m lazy and it’s hard for me to get anything done,” we are practicing a negative mindset wherein we understand ourselves to be lazy, or, in other words, we get better at being lazy. This is why it is extremely important for us to analyze what we tell ourselves about ourselves. 

While science has only recently discovered why what we focus on expands, prophets of God have always taught this principle. Using a tree as a metaphor for true principles, Book of Mormon prophet Alma taught that, "if ye nourish it with much care it will get root, and grow up, and bring forth fruit. But if ye neglect the tree, and take no thought for its nourishment, behold it will not get any root" (Alma 32:37-38). If we spend time practicing, praying and meditating about a true principle, it grows within us and becomes part of who we are. 

If we are immersed in study of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, we practice aligning our energy with the eternal energy of the following life-changing truths. If practiced and understood, these principles help us discover our true worth and potential:

• My spirit is divine-I am a daughter of Heavenly Parents who love me!

• Being divine, my potential is limitless.

• Because I have loving Heavenly Parents, they will provide everything that I need for my growth and progression.

• The eternal principle of gratitude helps me recognize there is an infinite abundance of blessings to go around. I have no need to act from a place of scarcity or feel threatened by others’ successes.

• I have a Savior who will help me, show me the way, and provide that which I cannot for myself.

• The Spirit of Truth or the Holy Ghost, will resonate with my divine spirit when what I am doing or hearing is in alignment with my divine path.

• Because those around me are also divine, I must love and care for them.

These are just some of the beautiful truths that a study of the Gospel of Jesus Christ will reveal. When we come to truly understand them through study and prayer, we begin to discover who we really are, or actually, who we’ve been all along but couldn’t see.  And as both the gurus and President Packer suggest, as we practice living in the solution, rather than wallowing in the problem, our behavior and understanding of who we are becomes closer to the Truth. We begin to comprehend and recognize our divinity, the divinity of those around us and the divine plan of God.

Approaching the Throne of God

The words of Henry B. Eyring about prayer in the Face to Face event a few weeks ago deeply touched my heart. Initially, I was surprised by his insistence that most prayers need to be formal. He described how very seriously he approaches the throne of God. I compared Eyring’s description of prayer with the casual and obligatory attitude with which I’d been praying. 

I certainly wasn’t approaching God with the same reverence fit for the God of all Creation that President Eyring was describing.

That night, I prepared to pray, to focus and to remember the Greatness of God as I prayed. I sought to feel His spirit in each phrase I uttered. Let me tell you, wow, I felt the love of our Heavenly Parents with a new level of peaceful intensity. Since then, I’ve been trying to approach God with more deference in all my prayers. This effort has resulted in a spiritual awakening, a much needed lift that has restored my sense of purpose.

Shortly after this particular Face to Face event, I went to a women’s revival at a church called Garden of Praise Christian Fellowship in Carson, California. The service was like a celebration to God. They sang and shouted, then they brought the volume down low just to build it back up again. What a thrill. I clapped along and more clearly understood why so many singers on the Voice get their start in church. The vocalists were amazing. While I adored being there with my sisters in Christ and will surely go back to worship with these lovely women, I am still convinced that the changing of our hearts happens in the quiet moments of contemplation and reverencing ourselves before our maker. 

There is something soul changing when we feel His spirit as we kneel in faith before Him and know He cares and is listening and waiting to provide us with all we need for our character and soul to reach their potential. Both the loud celebration and the quiet introspection have their purpose and place.

We are all searching for further light and knowledge, whether we’re religious or not. We each choose the path we think is best for our growth and happiness. Whatever path we choose, kneeling before our maker, reverencing ourselves to The Power that allows us to love, acknowledging the greatness of our miraculous universe, earth and existence, CHANGES our souls. If you do this practice morning and night, if only as an exercise in gratitude and intention, your well-being will improve.

Are Mormons Insecure?

The first time it happened was toward the end of my senior year of high school. I’d been back at church just over a year when I decided to meet up with some non-Mormon friends from my days of “inactivity.” As I pulled out of the parking lot in an area unfamiliar to me, I turned the wrong way onto a one-way street. Filled with the anxiety of an inexperienced driver, I panicked, slammed on the brakes and frantically yelled, “What do I do?” 

“Pull to the side,” Allison snapped in an annoyed tone that suggested the solution was obvious. After I pulled over, I waited until it was clear to turn the car around and soon we were safely headed in the right direction.

Just as my heart rate was returning to normal, my friend Renee said in a smug tone, “That’s why you need that church of yours, because you’re so insecure.”

Her words pierced me. My heart rate shot up again and my cheeks flushed.

I’d never had this accusation thrown at me before, although, it wouldn't be the last time. At different times since then, people have repeated the same idea to me in various ways. Despite the circumstance that prompts them, their message has been clear: I’m Mormon because I’m weak. I’m just some thoughtless sheep blindly following the flock.

But in this instance, the hurt came because I knew it was partly true.  Maybe I did need the gospel more than others precisely because I was wracked with insecurities. But I wasn’t going to let her think she had me beat.

“Oh, and the way you cling to your loser boyfriend and smoke all that pot comes from a place of real confidence, I’m sure,” I struck back.

Over time, I realized that I attacked when those critical of my faith journey made judgments that part of me feared were true. In this case, I realized that the accusation of insecurity leading me to God was kind of true. And it took a while for me also to realize that having insecurities is OK, good even, when they lead us to God.

Sometimes, it’s true, God simply helps us get better at things we are bad at, turning our weaknesses into strengths in an obvious way. But other times, our weaknesses become strengths simply by discovering their important role in our spiritual journey.

5 Ways God Reveals Our Weaknesses as Strengths

1. God consecrates our experiences for our gain. That means that all that we’ve been through, including the inevitable heartache of life, the consequences of sin, and our insecurities can be used for our gain when we recognize that God truly is our father and trust that He cares for us personally. That’s the caveat though, we have to turn to Him because, through the Spirit, He teaches us how to use the knowledge of our experience to better our lives and help those around us. Think of Moses and Paul and how God used their worldly training and augmented it for His own purposes and, in so doing, made Moses and Paul great spiritually, despite their weaknesses. It’s beautiful and merciful in an eternal way. Think of how God blessed the Canaanite harlot, Rahab, because she recognized the power and reality of the God of Israel and helped the Israelite spies escape Jericho. Despite the difficulties of this story to our modern sensibilities (everyone in the city is destroyed except Rahab’s family), its miraculous because God uses Rahab’s resourcefulness and even blesses her abundantly despite her obvious weaknesses. Through Rahab’s line is born Joseph, earthly father-figure to Jesus. God indeed uses all that we are for good when we turn to him.  

2. Our Weaknesses teach us to have empathy for others. Because I have hurt and felt insecure, I am sensitive to others that are feeling down and left out. Those who have been marginalized know the sting of being overlooked and under-appreciated. I try to be diligent in my parenting to teach my children to consider how others feel instead of judging others for their differences.

3. Weaknesses keep us turning to God in humility. My insecurities have helped me know that I can’t do it all on my own. I rely on God and turn to him in a way a less insecure person might not. And if I start to forget God, and begin to think I can do it on my own, in His mercy, He quickly reminds me that, with Him, miracles happen and I can do so much more. He rejoices in blessing my life. Our weaknesses serve the same purpose that the Lamanites did to the Nephites: they act as a scourge that stirs us up to remembrance of our God. Turning to God means trusting in His goodness and opening ourselves to the reality of His love. As soon as we believe he will bless our lives, he will.

4. Weaknesses force us to learn how to use the atonement of Jesus Christ.  Most people talk of believing in Christ but really do not use the atonement to better their lives and themselves.  When we are desperate for rescue from the pain of weakness, we put in the work to figure out how Christ’s sacrifice can benefit us every single day. For me, using the atonement looks like me praying and telling God, in the name of Jesus, that I give my particular worry, (I name the worry specifically) to the Savior. Let’s say for example that I’d been engaging in negative self-talk surrounding my body. Because this has been a pattern of mine for so long, and its one so easily triggered by our culture, this old pattern of self-shaming creeps back in from time to time. When it does, I pray more and ask for forgiveness for forgetting my true worth. I ask for help to remember that I am a spirit daughter of Heavenly Parents, and mostly, I ask for help to love and accept myself for where I’m at, mistakes and all. It is key to maintain love and respect for oneself when we make mistakes because Satan’s trick is to get us to start berating ourselves and no healing can begin unless we recognize that our divinity and worth can’t ever be diminished. Finally, I set out to make sure I’m caring for myself as the spiritual royalty that I truly am.

5. Weakness forces us to learn to love and accept ourselves in our imperfection. So many of us withhold love from ourselves because of our weaknesses. We dis-like parts of ourselves and are naively sure that if we punish ourselves enough, we will be motivated to change the parts of ourselves we hate.  But there comes a day when, tired of battling ourselves, we begin to realize that if we can’t love and accept ourselves as we are, insecurities and all, then we cannot heal, truly feel love or love another. We must make peace with all aspects of ourselves to be fully present in our relationships with our spouses, our children and our friends. So many people are numbing themselves because they can’t stand parts of themselves. But the fact is, God gives us these weaknesses so that we will learn to love ourselves unconditionally and turn to Him. We might have bad habits that we’d like to change, but hating ourselves for having those habits only makes breaking the habit more difficult, even impossible. It is not until we recognize, respect and revere the divine part of ourselves (our spirit), that we can begin to break the habits that aren’t in line with the divine being we know ourselves to be.

Sure, it seems a paradox that through our insecurities and weaknesses God can truly teach us how divine we really are. But upon reflection, that idea doesn’t seem so far fetched when we remember the words of Jacob, “God show[s] us our weakness that we may know that it is by his grace…that we have power to do [all] things.”

One Talent

Recently, the moments in which I enumerate all that I have not accomplished have become more frequent. I sometimes have these moments when I see friends and FB associates approaching mastery (an idea I’ve become obsessed with) as they finish their years of “apprenticeship.”  This one’s an editor and writes beautiful prose with ease. That one’s a professor of art and paints beautifully. Another quilts and runs quilting workshops. Still another is an activist striving to make positive changes in the community.  Not me. I’m just trying not to flip out or sink into depression. Sanity is my magnum opus.

In these low moments, I try really hard to say things to myself like, “But don’t worry, you have this beautiful family. They are your work.” But all the people I envy, including the millionaire direct marketers and those of Instagram fame also have families and are great mothers. So, then I try to tell myself, “Don’t compare, we all start from a different place. You don’t need to be doing anything other than following the path that is right for you.” And while I know that is true, that wisdom seldom works to set my mind right. So, I try to think about something else, because I can’t find any personal accomplishment or material possession that will satisfy my ego in the treacherous game of comparison. So, I turn off my phone and do something to get my head space right again: exercise, write, get stuff done, or pray. If I want to wallow deeper, I eat simple carbs and call to commiserate with a friend.

Obviously, we know that it’s a bad idea to compare ourselves with others. But we still do it…all the time. A good indication that we are comparing is when we find ourselves criticizing, either ourselves or the person we’re comparing ourselves to.

How, people, do we get away from this self-destructive comparing?

Part of the answer is found in The Parable of the Talents in which Jesus teaches that talents are innate abilities that the He gives to us. We are responsible for using our talents which helps them to grow and multiply.

In the parable, the Lord gives the first servant five talents.  The servant doubles them and the Lord is pleased and promises to make the servant ruler over many things because he has been “faithful over a few.” To me, these five-talent people are born beautiful and everything comes easy to them. They are musical, athletic, smart, and have probably started a charity. They are the ones we loathe on social media, but masochistically, can’t get enough of.

The Lord gives his second servant two talents, which the servant doubles and the Lord is pleased and makes him ruler over many things. This is the middle-class of talent levels.  Most people think they belong to this category. This group might have one or two talents to list on a resume or win an award for. But the other talents they have are things like ‘good listener’ and ‘organizes closets well.'

Finally, the Lord gives the last servant one talent, he buries it out of fear he’ll lose it. The Lord chastises him and takes it away. These are the people, like me, who are wondrously unathletic, try to gain a musical talent but don’t really make it, and don’t quite have the discipline to be the academic we’re sure we were meant to be. One-talent people don’t have awards or impressive CV’s to share. They might, if pressed, come up with one of those quasi-talents to list such as ‘likes cultural activity’ or ‘appreciates beauty.’

I railed against this parable for a long time. It seemed so unfair that some get to be born into talent-privilege where the system seems set up to help one multiply her talents. Think of the Gwyneth Paltrow’s of the world. Born beautiful by most standards, has a movie producer dad and Steven Spielberg as a Godfather. Girl, you better be winning Oscars. How hard is it to be these people? I get it--the grass is always greener... But the parable tells us, we come into this world with different amounts of capabilities and gifts; that reality is what bothered me for so long.

Could it be true that I’m just not as good and capable as other people? That these Mormon women I’ve been comparing myself to really just come with more talents? Does this parable confirm what I’ve suspected all along, that they really are better than me? 

I haven’t fully come to terms with the answers to these questions. However, I’ve learned that worrying about how I stack up against others and not thanking God for what talents I do have are forms of burying my talents. Not recognizing the source of any gift I have is akin to hiding it beneath the earth or under a bushel.  The moment I begin questioning if my progress and aptitude are as good or better than another person’s, I halt my ability to grow my own talents. Comparing feels so awful because we shift our focus from one that is virtuous to one that is vindictive. Comparing inevitably gives birth to the twin vices of envy and jealousy and no character growth occurs when we keep company with them.  

To be clear, more capable does not mean more worthy; all souls are great in the sight of God, but we can each seek to please Him by using our capabilities to fulfill our unique purpose here on earth.

The idea in The Parable of the Talents that helps me the most when I’m tempted to compare my accomplishments with others’ is that the Lord doesn’t care how many talents we end up with, only that we’ve doubled what we were given.  The person with one talent, only needs to turn that into two. So, I only need to recognize the one I am already blessed with and develop it into another talent. That’s doable. And the Lord will delight in my efforts. We also have the additional promise that the Lord will add gifts as necessary, but he can’t if we bury our talent out of fear that we will never be as great as our Instagram friends or the Johnson’s who make it on time to church each week, perform the special musical number as a family, all while looking like they stepped out of a magazine.

Surely, I will continue to compare myself with others from time to time, even though I’ll make an earnest effort not to.  But, the difference now, and what it has taken me all of 39 years to realize, is that being me, glaring flaws and all, is ok. I get to be me…develop me, and add upon the gifts that are uniquely mine. It is very freeing to finally realize that I don’t have to do this Mormon thing like anyone else, this faith thing like anyone else, or this life thing like anyone else. I get to claim my religious experience, my spirituality, and my existence; that is how I use my talent and multiply it.