Through the Darkness; Enduring the Loss of My Stillborn Son

June 15th, 2016 will be a day forever burned into my memory. The day before, the 14th, I had been at home with Sophie. I was playing video games, and streaming on Twitch. My wife had been pregnant now for nearly six months. We had known the gender of our baby for some time, and had already named him. Paul. He was a gentle baby. Sophie, my firstborn, had been very active, kicking often. Paul was softer. Quieter. He also seemed healthy. Years previously my wife had gone through treatment for thyroid cancer, so we were looked at a little more closely than some pregnancies - and everything seemed fine. He was just soft. Gentle.

Things had progressed to the point that Kaija was feeling him move regularly. We would sit on the couch together nightly and watch tv shows together. When he would kick she would grab my hand and pull it over so I could feel, but he never really kicked more than once or twice in a stretch - and I didn't leave my hand there. I didn't wait for the next kick. The next movement. I never felt him move. It's one of my greatest regrets. I never felt my baby boy move - and I could have.

Going back to the 14th. So I'm at home with Sophie, playing video games. My wife had gone to the Doctor's office without us. I had gone to every single Dr's. appointment with Sophie, because I didn't want to miss anything. This time around it seemed more convenient, at this stage, to be at home with Sophie so we wouldn't have to find a babysitter. I'd gone to nearly every Dr's. appointment up to this one, and this was to be fairly routine anyway. She had gone in for an ultrasound like a day or two before and everything had been fine. But everything wasn't fine.

I was actually streaming for an audience when I got the call. I saw it was Kaija, so I picked up the phone. She was sobbing. I knew something terrible had happened. I immediately ended the stream without any real explanation. Through her weeping, Kaija told me.

They couldn't find a heartbeat.

Paul was gone.

I was broken. I didn't know what to do. I began to sob. I knew that miracles were real, I had experienced them in my own life. I knew that God could do all things. I begged Him to bring my baby boy back. To heal him. My prayers went unanswered. All of the hopes and dreams for this little boy that I had built up. All of my daydreaming of running around with him. Of holding him. Of changing his diapers and teaching him little boy things. All of that in one moment was shattered.

The next few hours were a blur. James and Kathleen, my adopted mom and dad, were a Godsend. They swooped in and immediately began to take care of Sophie. Kaija and I went to the hospital. I don't remember all the minute details, I felt totally numb. I began the process of letting people know who had known that we were pregnant, that we had lost the baby. For the most part people responded really well. They were comforting and kind. They lent their condolences. They offered to help in any way that they could.

The actual birth was a nightmare that I won't go into in detail. I will say that I don't think I've ever cried that hard in my life. Fortunately institutional philosophies on grief and loss have progressed over the years, because they allowed us to have him - they didn't just whisk him away. I wanted, no, I needed, to have him in my arms. Even in this moment, knowing that he was gone, feeling how cold his little body was, I asked God. Please Father, please, heal my baby boy. There was no miracle, not for me, not for my family, not that day.

As I held him, and rocked him gently, I sang the song that I had memorized in hopes of singing him to sleep. John Lennon's "Beautiful Boy". I say I sang it, but I mostly wept it.

Close your eyes
Have no fear
The monster's gone
He's on the run and your daddy's here

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful
Beautiful boy
Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful
Beautiful boy

Before you go to sleep
Say a little prayer
Every day in every way, it's getting better and better

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful
Beautiful boy
Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful
Beautiful boy

Out on the ocean sailing away
I can hardly wait
To see you come of age
But I guess we'll both just have to be patient
'Cause it's a long way to go
A hard row to hoe
Yes, it's a long way to go
But in the meantime

Before you cross the street
Take my hand
Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful
Beautiful boy
Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful
Beautiful boy

Before you go to sleep
Say a little prayer
Every day in every way, it's getting better and better

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful
Beautiful Paul

Throughout the day close friends and family members came to offer their condolences. Kaija's parents were champions. We had told them on the 14th that we had lost Paul. They packed and immediately left to be with us. They were there on the 15th. They had driven through the night. I don't know how we would have made it through without them and my parents.

Our Bishop came to give us support. I love our Bishop. As he entered the room, he didn't say anything. He just stood there. He came over and wrapped me in a hug, and his presence was comforting. He didn't attempt to offer any words of counsel. He just loved, and grieved with us.

Throughout the day various other people came. At one point - we had me, my adopted brothers Matt and Aaron, my dad James, and Kaija's dad Alan, all in the room. Alan told me that it would be acceptable to give him a baby's blessing. She whispered in my ear, "Joshua should be his middle name. He is your son."

We held his little lifeless body in our arms, and I blessed him. I say I blessed him, but really it was the Holy Spirit. I don't remember all of the exact words. I know it started with:

"Father in Heaven, we take this child in our arms to give him a name and a blessing. And the name that he will be known by is Paul Joshua Sharp..." The rest is just vague memories. I know I blessed him that he would be aware of his sister, and present in her life - even when she didn't know it. I felt his presence then.

They had us stay in the hospital that night. The nurses at Portland Adventist were amazing. So was our OBGYN. The love and support we felt was overshadowed only by the intensity of our grief. We knew that we were loved. Kaija had held him throughout much of the day, I felt it was important to give her all the time that she wanted, but as the night wore on I could tell how exhausted she was. She had endured so much physically, mentally, and emotionally that she was absolutely drained.

I lifted him from her arms, and kissed her goodnight. I then began my vigil. I knew that the next day, his body would be gone. I couldn't bear the thought of him being alone for a single moment. So through the night I held him. I didn't sleep. I kept watch over his tiny, perfect, lifeless body. I felt as though I was standing guard over him. His father, faithfully keeping watch through the night. I looked at him. I prayed for him. I talked to him. I wept over him. I didn't fall asleep. I just held him.

It was the longest night of my life.

The next day is also difficult to remember in its entirety. I know at some point we went to the funeral home. I know that we had him cremated, and placed into two separate urns. One would be kept with us at home, the other I would keep with me in my car, so that I could take a little part of my baby boy with me wherever I went. The first urn, the one we would keep at home, we chose to be a red heart. Someone else had recommended that we have him placed inside a build-a-bear, so that's what we did. A little white polar bear, that we dressed in a white t-shirt, jeans, and converse-style shoes. An outfit that I would wear. An outfit that my son would wear.

I went through all of this in a daze. Every time I thought I couldn't cry any more or any harder a new wave of grief would wash over me. The only way I can describe it is by backtracking for a moment.

I love Kaija. I fell in love with her within days after meeting her. We were married for four years before we got pregnant with Sophie. While we were pregnant, I got sort of concerned. You see, I had never loved anyone with the intensity that I loved Kaija. I was afraid that I wouldn't have enough love inside of me to share with another entity. Then I held Sophie, and it was as though God opened up a chamber in my heart that hadn't existed previously. My capacity to love increased exponentially.

This was like that, only in reverse. It was like a piece of my heart was being ripped from my chest. As though a gigantic hole had ripped through my soul.

The grief didn't go away either. It dogged me for days. I would go running and just scream at the sky. I would grab a pillow and scream into it. I shed tears in front of my wife - but I tried to keep the depth of my grief from her. I promised Paul that I would take care of his mother and sister, and that I would take care of myself physically - but for many months I did a terrible job of keeping those promises. I ate terribly, gained weight, and stopped exercising.

I felt as though time had stopped, but as I re-entered the world it became abundantly clear that things were going to keep progressing, and that I had better catch up. Schoolwork still needed to be done. I had an amazing job that was extremely supportive - but at the time I was the only one who could do certain things, so responsibilities piled up. And the river of life moved on.

As time passed the pain turned to a dull ache that occasionally flared up like a partially healed sprain that I continuously exacerbated. I was furious at God for a long time. I felt like we had experienced our share of hardship. My childhood, the struggles that I continued to have because of that, the cancer that Kaija had endured, and now this? I mean - didn't we deserve just a little slack? Just one win? Apparently not. The thing is, I allowed myself to be furious at God, because I knew that He could take it.

And He Did.

Like a parent holding a child who has just endured their first major loss, and rails against them. God held me in the arms of His mercy and grace. There were times when I felt His presence, His acceptance, even in the midst of my rage. He whispered softly between my gasps for breath - "it's OK, I'm still here. I won't leave you. I still love you."

Around November I came to the stark realization that I wasn't keeping my promises to my baby boy, so I began to change. That change began gradually, but seriously picked up speed around January. I began to run. And run. And run. At first I ran because I knew that I needed to do something to get into better condition. I coupled that with healthier eating, and began to lose weight. As I lost weight, I began to run more. This month (June) I crossed the 400 mile threshold for the year. But even more exciting than the losing weight, or the miles that I'm running, is the miraculous experiences I've been having while running.

Shortly after we lost Paul, the Doctors told us that it would be OK for us to begin trying again. Kaija - the champion that she is - felt that we shouldn't waste any time, so we didn't. We got pregnant shortly thereafter (and I'm happy to say Simeon Alan was born on April 23rd of this year).

But that's not the only miracle. The miracle actually began to occur while I was running. One day, while I was running, I began to feel exhausted. I just didn't want to keep going. Then - into my mind came the thought "you can do it dad." I knew who was speaking, and suddenly my body was filled with energy. I set a PR on my 5 mile that day. These moments continued to happen during my runs. I would feel a presence, an energy, and sometimes have these thoughts that were not my own come to my mind. The most powerful one happened just before Simeon was born.

I was heading into the final stretch of my run, and I heard "Run with me daddy!" in my minds eye I saw a little boy go racing out in front of me, and another little boy keeping pace next to me. I sprinted to keep up with the little one that had run ahead of me, and I scooped him into my arms and lifted him onto my shoulders. I saw him stretch his arms out wide. In my mind, I grabbed the other one and held him in my arms. I had the impression to turn my music to a Christian station that I hadn't listened to in a while, and a song came on that I hadn't heard before. It was Good Good Father by Chris Tomlin. It goes like this:

I've heard a thousand stories of what they think you're like
But I've heard the tender whispers of love in the dead of night
And you tell me that you're pleased
And that I'm never alone

You're a good good father
It's who you are, it's who you are, it's who you are
And I'm loved by you
It's who I am, it's who I am, it's who I am

I've seen many searching for answers far and wide
But I know we're all searching
For answers only you provide
'Cause you know just what we need
Before we say a word

You're a good good father
It's who you are, it's who you are, it's who you are
And I'm loved by you
It's who I am, it's who I am, it's who I am

Because you are perfect in all of your ways
You are perfect in all of your ways
You are perfect in all of your ways to us

You are perfect in all of your ways
You are perfect in all of your ways
You are perfect in all of your ways to us

Oh, it's love so undeniable
I, I can hardly speak
Peace so unexplainable
I, I can hardly think
As you call me deeper still
As you call me deeper still
As you call me deeper still
Into love, love, love

You're a good good father
It's who you are, it's who you are, it's who you are
And I'm loved by you
It's who I am, it's who I am, it's who I am

You're a good good father
It's who you are, it's who you are, it's who you are
And I'm loved by you
It's who I am, it's who I am, it's who I am
You're a good good father

It's who you are, it's who you are, it's who you are
And I'm loved by you
It's who I am, it's who I am, it's who I am
You're a good good father

You are perfect in all of your ways
It's who you are, it's who you are, it's who you are
And I'm loved by you
You are perfect in all of your ways
It's who I am, it's who I am, it's who I am

At first, I heard this song exactly as it's meant to be heard - as me singing it to God. Bear in mind that I still, mentally and in Spirit, was holding my sons. Then something happened that I didn't expect at all. Instead of me pointing the chorus to God, it was as though my sons were pointing the chorus at me:

You're a good good father
It's who you are, it's who you are, it's who you are
And I'm loved by you
It's who I am, it's who I am, it's who I am
You're a good good father.

I ran the rest of the way home, tears streaming down my face.

So here I am. Exactly a year after his birth. I've been forever changed. I wish that he were here. At the same time, I am amazed at what he has done for me. By entering my life for only the briefest of moments and then leaving with such intensity - I love life more fully. I cherish every single moment with my daughter. I'm more attentive to her needs, and more capable of patience beyond what was my capacity. While Kaija was pregnant with Simeon, I took every chance to feel him move. I went to the Doctor's visits. Now I hold him as often as I can.

Now, I look at my wife, and it's as though another chamber of love has been opened up inside of me. The power of that love is unbelievable.

Life is still hard. I still miss my little boy. But my gratitude for what I do have, and my appreciation for what is in my life, is beyond anything that I have ever felt or experienced. I understand, on some small level, what Alma was talking about when he said "yea, my soul was filled with joy as exceeding as was my pain!"

I love God. I love life. I love my wife. I love my daughter. And I love my sons. Both of them. I'm asked fairly often "how many children do you have?" It's a tough question - because I have three. My trio of awesome. And because of all three of my children, I have been eternally changed for the better.

Thank you, Paul, for coming into my life. Thank you for sharing the briefest of moments with me. Thank you for giving me a deeper understanding of what it is to be a father, and a greater appreciation for every precious moment of life that I have been given. I love you, son, and I will live a life worthy of being with you again.

In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.

Today I was taught by a Mother

Today is Mother's Day, and I would like to share with you something that I was taught today by a mother.

It happened during sacrament meeting (that's like the main sermon portion of many other churches). I was busy trying to corral my little 3 year old, generally enjoying the meeting. Every mothers day there's typically a focus from those asked to speak on mothers (naturally) and this day was no different. This year the Bishopric had asked each of the young men in the ward to speak on mothers. The messages were good, and the Spirit was present.

One of the young men approached the podium and began to speak. He didn't get further than about three words before he began to break down. He began to weep. He lowered his head, took a step back, and held himself tightly as his grief was made bare to the entire congregation. Frozen in what I imagine was a mix of grief, fear, and shame he stood there - alone - tears rolling down his face. I raised one hand slightly in his direction and began to pray with everything inside of me. God, please give this young man strength. Give him comfort. Let him know that I love him.

The strength did not seem to come.

I began to pray that someone, anyone would do something. That his young men's leaders that were feet from him would get up and comfort him. The comfort did not come. I could feel the weight of the prayers in the room rushing to him. I did not feel uncomfortable, only a desire to comfort. I felt helpless in the midst of this deeply emotional moment, powerfully powerless.

Then it happened.

In a flurry of purposeful movement, she came walking up the aisle at a brisk pace. Her face set in determination.

A mother. Not his mother. A Mother.

She strode up the steps, and everyone's eyes were riveted on them. She walked over to the young man, never faltering or flinching, never questioning what she was doing. She placed herself between him and the podium, between him and the rest of us, and wrapped this young man in her arms. She stroked his hair lightly and I imagine whispered words of comfort to him, then tenderly pointed him back to his seat. Without any fanfare she then walked down from the stand, and took her seat at the back of the room.

Now I was the one sobbing.

Many people spoke in that meeting. Some wonderful stories were shared about mothers. Some quotes from Prophets and Apostles regarding how sacred and righteous good mothers are. The young man who broke down might feel some embarrassment and shame over what he experienced, but he gave all of us an amazing gift. Never in my entire life, not from the greatest speakers, not from prophets or authors or any other source, have I heard a talk about mothers that was more powerful and more true than the one shared by that boy, and that mother.

"...and now, as ye are desirous to come into the fold of God, and to be called his people, and are willing to bear one another's burdens, that they may be light; yea, and are willing to mourn with those that mourn; yea, and comfort those that stand in need of comfort, and to stand as witnesses of God at all times and in all things, and in all places that ye may be in, even until death, that ye may be redeemed of God, and be numbered with those of the first resurrection, that ye may have eternal life..." Mosiah 18:8-10.

This is the lesson of motherhood. This is the lesson of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. I am thankful to all of the mothers out there who have rushed to the aid of children when no one else could. I am thankful to those women who are mothers to those children whose mothers aren't, or can't be, present. I'm thankful for good mothers. And I'm thankful for a Father and Mother in Heaven who love us so completely that they send mothers rushing to the aid of those in need.

Humility is Key, Especially from leaders, but also from those who follow

Hey everyone! I haven't blogged in quite sometime, but I recently read a blog post by a member of the LDS Church, my Church community, which has brought me out of my "blogging hibernation." I don't know this member other than through her blog post, and this is my response to it. I will link it here, as it will be difficult to understand my response without first reading her experience:

http://suzannemarie.org/2016/03/30/jesus-hates-your-jeans-an-ode-to-church-leadership/

As Suzanne was willing to share her thoughts and feelings publicly, I don't feel out of place sharing my own feelings in response to her experience publicly. The intention of this is to examine what she said, and articulate the feelings that I have in response to her experience.

In the first person account we are presented with Suzanne, a member of the LDS Church who travels quite frequently. She is a faithful Latter-day Saint who really enjoys going to the temple. The account takes her through a temple recommend interview with a member of a Stake Presidency who she states is an individual who is "...representing the church" and her fairly traumatic experience with that interview. I will present my response in two parts. The first part will be my response to her direct experience. The second part will be my response to the presentation of her blog.

Part 1, The Interview:

The focal point of the entire blog is a question posed by a member of her Stake Presidency. She has gone in for a Temple recommend interview. This is a sacred experience between a member of the LDS Church and one who has been authorized by Church Leadership to determine worthiness. The Temple is a sacred place, and we believe that the Lord has established standards of worthiness that one must meet in order to enter its halls. Whether or not you (the reader) might agree with this practice, it is something that members of the LDS Church take very seriously. I personally think it is a marvelous practice, and essential to my own personal progression.

(If you would like to discuss the topic of worthiness in the LDS Church further please feel free to contact me outside of this blog.)

I will quote the experience here, so as to lend context to my response. The Stake Presidency member begins by asking Suzanne a series of what I would call "set-up" questions:

Him: "Sister Whitehead, I'm glad you are here getting your recommend. Do you know who these questions are from?" .

Me: "Umm... God?"

Him: “That’s right. God. God and Christ run the church. They want us to ask you these questions to make sure you are fit to enter Their house. So this isn’t an interview with me or anyone else – it’s with you and God. Do you understand that?”

 Me, kind of confused at why he was telling me all this: “Um, yes.”

Him, rather smugly like he had just caught me in a trap: “Do you think you would so casually approach the Savior?”

She goes on to describe the swirl of emotions that she has in response to this question, and then bravely declares:

Me: “Yes, I would.”

Him, eyebrows raised and not hiding his shock: “OH! Well…. no one has answered like that before. Most people understand how they should humbly approach the Savior in their best dress.”

She is shocked even further by this declaration. After another paragraph explaining her feelings she continues the narrative:

Me: “I can come back if you think I’m being disrespectful like this.”

Him: “Oh! Well….No. let’s just go through these.” My tears and solid stare were making him uncomfortable. “You don’t have to leave. I mean, sometimes we make people leave and go change… but since you’re here let’s just do it.”

Me: “No, no I think if you feel so passionately about it I can go and just do this on Sunday when I’m in Sunday dress.”

Him: “No, I’ll just ask you the twenty questions. I’m just doing what I’m told. I didn’t mean to make you feel guilty or bad or offend you. In a few questions I’m going to tell you how much God loves you and how special you are.”

Me: “I don’t need you to tell me I’m special. I know God loves me. And I know God loves me whether or not I am in jeans or Sunday best. And I get that there are policies and best practices, and I’m sorry I’m not dressed appropriately but you can’t talk to people like that – it hurts.”

The narrative continues with Suzanne and the Stake Presidency member discussing how he might have approached the topic differently. It seems to be a constructive experience for him, at the expense of extreme pain for her. It is likely that he will not approach similar situations to this in the same fashion in the future.

Now my response to the interview itself. The "bare bones" of it as it were.

Worthiness interviews in the LDS Church are conducted on a relatively regular basis. Not only do they help determine an individuals personal commitment to living the Gospel, they also serve to ensure that the person is capable and willing to keep the commitments that they enter into as they continue in their membership in the Church. As stated previously I think they are a vital, and marvelous practice. They have helped me to become a better person, and serve as a sort of "litmus test" in my own life as I strive to be everything that I believe God wants me to be. I have been interviewed many times since I was baptized on my 18th birthday.

As a holder of the Melchizedek Priesthood, and as a Returned Missionary, I have also had opportunities to conduct worthiness interviews specifically for those seeking to become members of the church. Often the very first interview someone will engage in is the baptismal interview. This interview closely resembles the Temple recommend interview. I believe that if Jesus were present, He would be conducting these interviews Himself. It is a sacred responsibility, and one that I never took lightly. I would always go into these interviews in prayer, asking for guidance and the gift of discernment.

People showed up to these interviews in all manner of dress. Sometimes they were coming straight from work. Other times they were heading to work right after. They weren't always very "clean," still covered in the grime of the day (or sometimes night if they had worked the night shift). Usually they came in their very best, which depending on individual circumstances differed dramatically. As I think back on these interviews, I don't remember a single one where what the individual was wearing ever entered into my mind as anything other than appropriate. And yes, many showed up in jeans and t shirts. Not every single person was ready yet to be baptized either, but not a single one was turned away, or made to feel "bad" or "different" because of what they were wearing.

This is not to say that the clothing that a person is wearing is not important. I believe that it is. I think there is something true in the sentiment of "Sunday best." In trying to look our best for the Savior. There is a certain focus that I gain when I go to my closet and say "I am wearing something today that I don't usually wear. I am doing this because of the place that I am going." It changes my own personal mindset, and helps me get into a more reverent mood. It's similar for me to when I put on my uniform for the Army. I am wearing this for a reason, for a purpose.

Many assumptions were automatically made by the presumption of the question that was posed by this leader. The biggest assumption was "this woman doesn't appreciate the sacred nature of the temple recommend interview." As explained by Suzanne, this couldn't be further from the truth. She understood the sacred nature of the interview, wasn't planning on getting an interview that night, but circumstances were such that she was able to, seemingly fortuitously and admittedly unexpectedly. It is in this assumption that the leader made his mistake.

He also explains that he was "just doing what I'm told." This hints at instruction from his own leadership, likely the Stake President. While it is dangerous to infer anything from any account, it is possible that this stake had been experiencing this "issue" on a regular basis recently, specifically that young members had been coming into recommend interviews in casual dress, which on some level reflected their mindset about the interview, and potentially about the temple. In an attempt to address this perhaps the Stake Presidency had come up with this question together. Regardless of the circumstances surrounding the reasoning behind the question, the question itself was, at least in my opinion, ill-advised.

It was ill-advised because of the assumption. The assumption that the person sitting in front of the leader wasn't serious about the interview. I remember hearing a story from a very wise man who had served his mission in the south. He talked about how his first sacrament meeting in one area he saw a young man passing the sacrament in a track uniform. It seemed very irreverent to him, until it was explained that this young man was very poor, and his track uniform was his very best. Suddenly perspective changed, and this wise man learned an important lesson. Never assume.

The question of "if you were coming before the Savior" should in my opinion be turned back on the leader. The question should be "if I am representing the Savior, how would He respond to this young woman's state of dress?" My response and my opinion is - He wouldn't give a hoot about what she was wearing. He would care for more that she was there, with Him, seeking to be better. He would exude love, and if there was something that she could do better, He would help her to realize it with love and care, not accusation and entrapment.

It breaks my heart when I hear stories like this, and Suzanne is not alone. There are untold numbers of members of the LDS Church who have been hurt in similar fashion by well meaning leaders. Many of them soldier on in pain, while others simply quit coming. Not all abuse is intentional abuse. Some parents abuse their children ignorantly, not realizing that it is abuse simply because it is the way they were raised. Thus is the issue with some Church Leaders. Questions like this are similar to the experience Elizabeth Smart had with one of her teachers:

"I remember in school one time I had a teacher who was talking about abstinence and she said, 'Imagine you're a stick of gum and when you engage in sex, that's like being chewed. And then if you do that lots of times, you're going to be become an old piece of gum and who's going to want you after that..." Then Elizabeth was kidnapped, and raped repeatedly.

She continued:

"Well, that’s terrible. No one should ever say that. But for me, I thought, ‘I’m that chewed-up piece of gum.’ Nobody re-chews a piece of gum. You throw it away. And that’s how easy it is to feel you no longer have worth. Your life no longer has value.”

No girl should ever feel guilty for being raped, but this teacher effectively did just that. It's these blanket assumptions coupled with bandaid-esque statements or questions that create such a problem for both leaders and followers in the LDS Church. Even if Suzanne had come knowingly wearing jeans and a t-shirt, would this question be appropriate? My response - absolutely not. The Savior was approached by lepers, by prostitutes, by all manner of people seeking redemption and healing and acceptance. I don't remember Him responding with "do you know who you are talking to? I'm Jesus. I'm greater than all the Kings of the earth. You should dress better when approaching me."

So what is the answer to this conundrum? To this dilemma? The answer is humility. Those called into any position of leadership must exercise radical humility. I like to say "err on the side of love." I believe that one day I will stand in the presence of Jesus, and be judged for my actions. I don't think that He will look at me reprovingly and say "Josh, you should have been more judgmental." Now, He might say "I wish you had used better judgment" but I just don't see Him calling me to be more judgmental towards His children. I imagine instead Him saying "I wish you had loved more, and judged less."

I also believe Him when He says "For with what judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged: and with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again..." I'm hoping that my extension of love, forgiveness, and acceptance will be accepted by Him. Any and all leaders in the LDS Church must see each person coming to them as children of God, seeking to be like Him, and they should take their responsibility to sit with these children as a sacred trust. They should humbly approach each opportunity with prayer, recognizing that they are not God, and they can't really presume to know what God would do. Seeking the Spirit they should follow its promptings, and avoid the use of "band-aid-type" questions or statements.

Part 2, The Blog Itself:

I'll try not to spend much time here, but I feel that it is important to briefly discuss how Suzanne's blog affected me, besides the content of the interview. This is in no way meant to discount the way that Suzanne felt through her experience, nor to judge her. Rather my attempt is to take both aspects of my experience with this blog, and suggest recommendations.

During her account Suzanne states that she doesn't think she has "...ever been reprimanded for anything ever." She spends a lot of time explaining her travels, and while this adds context to the story, it also in ways takes away from her experience. The fact of the matter is, it doesn't matter why she had shown up to the interview in what she was wearing, the question that was posed to her was wrong. From the point of view of the reader this account of all of her travels can lend a certain level of individual pride to the experience.

She also states that:

"I’ve always been a church rule follower and suddenly I realized that all the fluff about this interview not being with him was only to put me in my place where I would feel guilty and bad for what I was wearing as if I didn’t respect Christ enough rather than him wanting me to know this was a symbolic Q&A with God."

I spoke earlier of presumptions on the part of the leader. Here Suzanne is making a very large presumption regarding the intent of this leaders heart. As stated earlier she talks about his posture once he had "caught her":

"Him, rather smugly like he had just caught me in a trap...

This presumption causes the reader to react with additional outrage. I imagine if I were to talk to the Stake Presidency member and ask him if he felt like was "trapping her smugly" he would likely respond with an emphatic no. She continues:

"... I thought of my Dad. I’ve learned a lot about my relationship with my Heavenly Father from my wonderful relationship with my earthly father and suddenly I felt homesick and sad and remembered how all gowning up he always let me know I could come to him. He told me if I messed up, if I got drunk, if I was in a bad place, I could always come to him or call and he would treat me with love and come get me..."

As a father of a daughter, I would absolutely echo this statement of her father. But I would also add that post-drunken experience I would be striving to help her to become better. She continues:

"...He didn’t know I was barely in the country a couple days and was super behind, going through a lot today, and hadn’t planned on being here, and hadn’t even had time to eat lunch or dinner yet and just wanted to go to the temple in the morning. He didn’t know my relationship with my Savior..."

She's absolutely right. Having been in positions where people have offended me before with similarly inappropriate and seemingly uncaring questions, I have come to realize that often people don't realize the harm they are causing. Because I have these realizations they tend to lead me to judge less, and love more, not judge more, and love less. She continues:

"...I felt the pain of people that have sat in the seat before I sat there and tears started to build in my eyes..."

She explains this quite cosmic experience, as though she is having the experience of countless other individuals who have come before, and those that will come after. Later in the conversation she states that:

"...I don’t need you to tell me I’m special. I know God loves me. And I know God loves me whether or not I am in jeans or Sunday best. And I get that there are policies and best practices, and I’m sorry I’m not dressed appropriately but you can’t talk to people like that – it hurts..."

In my opinion, the onus of love and compassion, humility and suspending judgment, really relies on those that are in leadership. As members of the church, however, we must remember that we are led by a lay leadership. This means that our leaders typically have absolutely no training other than their own life experience. This means that at times, they will have less relevant experience than we have as it pertains to their calling at any given time. This means that we too must extend humility, love, understanding and compassion to those that are called to lead at any given time.

My response to the blog itself is that it fails to do this. It takes this admittedly sad and hurtful experience, and turns it into in large measure a diatribe about how terrible a job this leader did. It also feeds the furnace of those who have been offended and turned away. As I read the comments on Facebook and the blog itself they are in large measure supportive, which I believe Suzanne deserves our support, but this blog also describes a divide. A duality that exists within the mind of many of the LDS Church. The "us and them" idea of leadership. What we need to realize is that we are them. As inadequate as we may be made to feel by leaders who misstep, they feel equally inadequate in their roles. It is our responsibility, all of our responsibility, to approach each interaction we may have with God's children in love and humility.

Thank you for taking the time to read this. I hope it helps.

The LDS Church's Recent Policy Change on Children of Same-sex Couples, a Members Perspective

I wrote this in response to a series of news articles that have been published recently regarding the LDS Church's recently released policy on children of same-gender relationships. If you have not familiarized yourself with the issue, please see either of the following two articles:

http://www.ksl.com/?sid=37248288&nid=148&title=lds-church-children-of-same-sex-couples-not-eligible-for-membership&fm=home_page&s_cid=topstory

http://kutv.com/news/local/lds-church-to-exclude-children-of-same-sex-couples-from-membership

And here is my response:

This is by no means an easy subject to discuss, as it's a topic that I do not claim to have a complete answer for. I will do my best to respond appropriately, as a member of the Church and not as an authority on it.

On the subject of baby blessings. A baby blessing in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is not a typical "Christening." While we consider it an ordinance of the Priesthood, it isn't a "baptism" etc. For a child to be "born in the covenant" and given a name and a blessing publicly, my understanding at least, is that said baby must be the child of a member of the LDS Church. By definition, a child from a same-sex relationship would not be the child of members of the LDS Church, because they would either have been excommunicated, or never been members.

As to the topic of baptism, we don't believe that baptism is a "rite of passage." While we believe that children can begin to make decisions for themselves at the age of 8, and this is the point when they can with guidance recognize right and wrong, they are by no means 100% accountable for their actions, and as such require the nurture and guidance of parents who will help raise them in the Gospel.

When an individual is Baptized into the LDS Church, they are entering into sacred covenants with God. Those covenants are a commitment to:

1. Take upon themselves the name of Christ
2. Keep the commandments (as understood by the LDS Church, which includes not participating in same-gender relationships among many other things)

I believe that the churches standpoint on with holding baptism from those children being raised by same gender parents is both a measure of protection for the child, as well as for the church. A child being raised by those of the same gender, who desires to be baptized a member, would have to declare that they do not agree with the lifestyle that said child's parents are living. This would put the child, while still in their formative years, in a very difficult position.

Not only that, but we believe that upon entering into covenants, such as baptism, we are raising our accountability. We believe that God will judge others based upon the knowledge that they possess, and how they use that knowledge. Anyone who has been baptized increases their accountability level. When an 8 year old child of active parent(s) is baptized, that parent(s) accountability is in effect raised. If an 8-17 year old child of same-gender parents was baptized, they would be living in a household that is in direct violation of what the LDS Church teaches are commandments of chastity.

To restate, this "rule" is to protect both the child, and the Church. For instance, when I decided that I wanted to be baptized at 16, the Church indicated that I would require parental approval to be baptized. I sought it, and my parents rejected. The Church's policy on such situations is that the individual wait until they are 18, which I did. I know of other denominations that would have said "to heck with what the parents want" and baptized me. This is not the Church's way.

I'm not saying whether or not I agree with this line of thought, nor am I saying this is necessarily my Church's response to it. What I am saying is these are the reasons I can think of at this time as to why this policy is in place. I believe that the teachings of the Savior can be summed up in "love God" and "love your neighbor." I believe that part of loving God is striving to keep His commandments. I believe that the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is true, but is still run by people. Fallible people. I believe that there are on record very clear instances when individuals within the church's leadership have made errors in judgment, and conflated God's will with their own. I think that in a world where God works through imperfection, one can only expect that such is going to happen. The law of averages practically demands it.

Finally, I will say that I believe in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I believe in where it has come from, and where it is going. I believe that its teachings lead people to happiness, peace, and eventually to eternal life. I believe that its policies and practices are meant to lift others, and not to condemn them. I am who I am as a follower of Christ because of my membership in this Church. I would be a...far different person than I am today without it. I love this Church, and believe that I always will.

I run in The Dark

Depression: It's Nothing to be Ashamed of

I think that if I were to list off some of the descriptors that my friends have for me they would probably include words like - energetic, intense, ridiculous, extroverted, caring, annoying, loud, stubborn, headstrong, and passionate. Four or five of my very close friends would say "he can get down occasionally" and perhaps only my wife would describe me as a person who struggles with depression. But the truth is, I do. I struggle with depression.

Today (November 4th 2014) I have been struggling with an especially difficult bout of depression. For me depression comes in a multitude of ways. Sometimes it comes on suddenly and inexplicably like a tornado, and other times it builds slowly like a hurricane - I can see it slowly growing off the shore of my emotional island. I feel it growing and can identify it moving toward me. I am helpless to stop it, to avoid it. I know that the island of my mind is pulling this hurricane like a gigantic depression magnet. It's really frustrating.

Today was a hurricane day.

Throughout the day I felt this depressive storm front building and inexorably moving toward me. It all came to a head while I was standing in line at Safeway purchasing lunch for me and my wife. The inexplicable, unaccounted for pain, grief, fear, frustration, and...well...depression, landed upon the shore of my mind. The type of depression that I struggle with is situational, caused by a whole slew of things, and is typically manageable. It gets hairy when I don't recognize the warning signs - and try to continuously push through it without managing it properly. There are many people who experience it far more poignantly than I do. Who are powerless to avoid it when it comes.

So I'm standing there in line at Safeway, and tears begin to run down my cheeks. I'm kind of surprised at first, I don't always cry when I'm experience a "depressive spell." Most of the time I end up going numb. I only noticed that I was crying this time as I felt one of the tears drop onto my hand. I looked down at it and slowly raised a hand to my cheek and slowly wiped my tears away. I was in the only open line at Safeway and it was surprisingly busy. 

My usual reaction when I begin crying in public is to be ashamed, this only makes the depression worse as I try and hide what's happening to me. I get furious at myself. I mean, I'm a 30 year old man, crying inexplicably in public. What must these people think of me?! Well, today as the tears rolled down my cheeks and splashed upon the tiled Safeway floor I decided to stop being ashamed. I didn't ask for this condition. I didn't do anything to bring these storms upon myself, they are just a part of who I am, of what I am. I believe that someday I will be freed from them, but until I am I will not spend another minute amplifying that pain through feelings of shame for something that I can't control any more than I can control the elements themselves.

While this realization didn't mitigate in any measure the pain that I was feeling, it completely bypassed the usual deepening of depression that accompanies the shame of it. That, in and of itself, was a relief from depression. It made me realize something that I had always known logically, but hadn't actually admitted in my heart, and believed; it's OK to experience depression.

It's important for me to explain something here that those who don't experience depression won't understand. Depression is not feeling sorry for yourself. It is not looking at your life and thinking "man I wish things were different." It is not something that can be fixed through "counting your blessings" or comparing your life with the lives of those that have it worse and saying "see, I don't have it that bad." If that were the case I would never be depressed because I have a wonderful life. I have a beautiful wife who I love with all of my heart. I have an almost eighteen month old daughter who lightens every single day simply by being alive. I have a good job, and I get to serve some amazing young people at my church as a seminary teacher. My life is full and amazing.

Depression doesn't care how great your life is. It reaches out and rips your face off no matter how wonderful things are.

This very thing is actually one way that depression really harms people. It makes them ashamed for feeling depressed. "You have no right to be depressed!" It yells at you. As you try and talk to your friends who have no idea what depression is like about your depression they have no idea how to respond. Some may tell you to get over it. Others will laugh it off. Some people will tell you how hard some other people have it and think that this will help you to get through it. Still others will tell you to "get help" and even encourage you to take drugs. All of these responses are typical of people who have never experienced depression. They don't know how to handle it.

The truth is, and I'll say it again, it's OK to experience depression the same way it's OK to have a hangnail or a stubbed toe or a toothache.

What's not OK is to allow depression to define you. It is when you stop saying "today was a depressed day" and start saying "I am depressed." Let me rephrase this, it's when we begin to think "I am depressed all of the time" that we let depression become who we are, instead of something that we endure. Just as you can do things to protect yourself from the real storms of life, even the most horrible ones, you can also do things to prepare yourself from the depressive storms of life that come. You can build your own mental and spiritual "tornado shelter" that will help you when the storms come. Above all don't use your depression as a crutch to justify negative behavior such as alcoholism, drug abuse, or interpersonal abuse. If you are experiencing any of these then have the courage to seek help. If you don't know where to turn - well - you've read this blog, and should talk to me. I won't be your counselor, but I'll point you in the direction of one.

Everyone experiences depression differently. It comes and goes in different ways, at different times, and is caused by diverse things. I am in no way attempting to speak for all of those that are depressed, but trying to help those that are depressed to understand that there is no reason for you to be ashamed for feeling the way that you do. I also want to invite you, if you haven't found anyone to share it with, to find someone that you trust. Find someone who will listen to you (and not gloss over your feelings in the ways that I listed above). You should not have to experience depression for one second longer by yourself. I'm not asking you to "come out" as someone with depression, but to find someone who can help you shoulder the load.

This is also an invitation to all of my friends who don't experience depression to learn more about it. I hope that reading my experiences will help you to be a little more compassionate, and a little less judgmental towards those that you know who face depression.

Hey Christians (Yes members of the LDS Church too), Stop Passing Judgment on People, it's getting Old

I doubt that any of my friends have this opinion, being exposed to my news stream and blog and notes, but IF any of my Christian friends still think that Mormon's aren't Christian and ALSO feel justified in "judging" members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints as going to hell for not believing in Christ I have a logic problem for you. This logic problem really applies any time anyone feels justified in passing "salvation judgment" upon others.

1) Jesus Christ said in Matthew 7:1; Judge not that ye be not judged.

Now this is serious stuff my friends. If you judge others as "not being Christian" you are taking one of the roles of God upon yourself, and one that He is very jealous of.

2) He says in Matthew 6:15; But if ye forgive men not their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.

He is very serious about who is allowed to judge. This doesn't mean don't make decisions, and don't make good decisions, but it does mean that you and I have absolutely no right or ability to pass judgement on others' salvation.

3) In Matthew 7:2 he continues with: For with what judgement ye judge, ye shall also be judged: and with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again.

Do we really understand what is being said here? Honestly and completely? So here is the end of the logic problem:

1) If a person believes in their very heart and soul that they can decide who is and isn't a Christian and pass judgment upon the supposed non-Christian that they are going to hell

2) That person will be judged in that very same way by Christ, "for with what judgement ye judge, ye shall also be judged..."

In other words, be very careful before you try and tell others that they are going to hell, or that they are not Christian, because Christ is very clear about how He will deal with those that are so prideful as to believe that they can judge His children.