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Tuesday, April 8, 2014

Why I'd Like A Little Mud In My Cupcakes

There's a metaphor I heard growing up about mud in cupcakes. It stated that adding even just a little mud is enough to ruin an entire batch of cupcakes. Likewise, a little unwholesome content can spoil an entire book/movie/song/work of art.

The mud in the cupcakes metaphor is a good one--it’s an image that sticks with you and it makes sense. A bad ingredient can throw off an entire recipe. And even if the mud was removed from the pan, would you really want to eat the cupcakes? 


But is that always the case?

Here’s another analogy--the sickest I've ever been in my life was after going on a huge germaphobe kick. I have never washed and sanitized so much in my life. And, as it turns out, your body is built to withstand some germs. In fact, you need to come in contact with some to build up antibodies. See where this is going?

The world is full of germs--mud--right now. It always has been, but we’ve decided to put the mud on a pedestal and label it as the ideal. We, as a society, love sexuality and violence. We can’t get enough of them. And so some of us are acting back. We’re sanitizing our lives and refusing to ingest the content the world throws at us. We're avoiding rated R movies. We're refusing to listen to certain songs on the radio. We're disconnecting our cable, choosing instead to watch reruns of the Dick Van Dyke show on Netflix (that one could just be me). We're turning back to a lighter era where glittering virtues were thrown into the public eye to be admired and valued, hoping to see them reflected back in the eyes of our youth as a promise of an even brighter future. But we're also doing things like sanitizing Mark Twain. And avoiding fine art depicting nude figures, like Michelangelo's David. And, like that poor baby thrown out with the bathwater, we’re throwing out the cupcakes with the mud. So where is the line between being in the world and of the world? Between familiarizing ourselves with the enemy to recognize him and familiarizing ourselves with him to become him? Maybe we should look at why there’s mud in the cupcakes before tossing it out altogether.

I'm not sure where the line is. Should aspiring directors cut all rated R movies from their viewing or does doing so deprive them from solid learning experiences? Aren't some movies classics for a reason? What about literature? Plenty of works that are touted as timeless classics have questionable content. Are we missing some robustly human learning moments by avoiding that content? Or is that content just dirt disguised as dessert?


Fortunately, we have an inner voice straight from God to help us discern between the treasures and the trash. And we can call upon Him anytime we choose.


Now here’s where the metaphor falls to pieces, because there’s never a good reason to put mud in your cupcakes. Instead, I’ll speak plainly--we, as Christians, are missing part of the point of Christ’s mission--Christ did not close his eyes when he met the prostitute, nor did He chose to stay away from the slums for fear of seeing evil. He lived in the world and He recognized it all. He sullied His clothes as He knelt to hear the story of the thief. He dirtied His palms holding the hand of a wretch. But, at the end of the day, the clothes were washed and His hands were cleaned. He understood the evil in the world and faced it to better understand it. His reason was simple--how could He save a word He didn't know? How can we overcome a world we don’t know? How are we to understand the gritty truths of this world--the dirty, awful facts that good people can experience bad things, that evil can dwell in the good places, and that rainbows can be found in oil spills--without experiencing them? We are to experience darkness so we may more fully appreciate light. And just as not all that glitters is gold, not all that looks wicked really is. 


So I say, yes, I'd like a little mud in my cupcakes, please. Because I am fighting every day to overcome this world that is trying to overcome me. So I'll try to not turn a blind eye on all evil. After all, if no one ever strikes a match to peer into the darkness, something lost in the dark will never be found. And a cupcake that was meant to be enjoyed will go stale.

Wednesday, February 12, 2014

Only A Prayer Away




I heard a quote this morning that touched me. It said, “No matter how alone you feel, God is only a prayer away.” I can remember growing up unsure of whether God really existed and, if He did, whether He really cared about my problems and heard my prayers. I had been led by others to believe that God only spoke to those He loved--His elite chosen ones, so to speak. And, since I hadn’t heard from Him, I figured that meant I didn’t make the cut.

Then, one day, I read a book that changed my life. It’s called Redeeming Love by Francine Rivers. It’s amazing and you should read it if you haven’t. In it, an unbelieving girl asks her husband why he married her. He tells her that God told him to. She sarcastically asks if this God of his speaks to him frequently. He responds that God speaks to everyone--most people just don’t listen. I was absolutely shocked when I read this. God speaks to everyone? It’s just our own deafness that keeps us from understanding? I had never thought about it like that before.

My image of God changed in that moment. He went from an all-knowing ruler with a serious favoritism complex to a tender, loving Father who fought daily against our pride and selfishness to try to speak to us. I pictured him by my side, reaching out to me, willing me to turn His way. He had given me an incredible gift--my free agency--and I was using it against Him. This idea stopped me in my tracks.

This is not to say that God doesn’t sometimes withdraw from us to teach us something, but He is still always there. He is always looking out for us, abolishing obstacles in our path and protecting us from harm. I forget that sometimes. I have trouble staying patient. I assume that, because he’s let go of the bike to let me try to ride on my own, He has left my side as well. But, just as my dad was always by my side after he let go of my bike, my Father is always there to catch me when I fall. He is there for us all.

I know this is true. I have felt His comfort and his grace in my life, working to mold me into a better person. It’s a beautiful thought, isn’t it? That the Creator and Lord of all is by your side every step of the way, loving you with an infinite love? No matter how far you feel from Him, He is always only a prayer away.

Tuesday, January 21, 2014

To My Daughter



My Darling Daughter,

You have been born into a magnificent and terrible world. A world where beauty is both admired and condemned. And this world will try to shape you. It will plunge you into its depths and roil you about, breaking you in its tide and crashing you against its surf until you do not know the blue of the sky from the blue of its waters. And that is the trap of this world--it will try to confound you into thinking the glory of the heavens resides, instead, on its surface.

For, you see, the world has convinced itself that the very things that make us women are things to be ashamed of. The world has so twisted the fabric of our understandings that many of our sex try to hide their natural tendencies. The world believes that men and women possess the same strengths and weaknesses. This, in turn, forces some women to behave more like men.

You see, the world has deceived men, too. Because men and women are not the same. We have different strengths and different weaknesses. Men are born fighters. They are protectors. They are, on the whole, physically stronger than us. And that is okay. Don’t let the world tell you that women and men are the same. Do not sell short the very traits that differ you from half the people on the planet. The differences between men and women are beautiful. They complement and complete one another. To say that women and men are equals in all areas is to sell both sexes short. We are not equal in every area. We, as women, are stronger than men. And men are stronger than us.

The world may also tell you to forego marriage and children for a career. If this is your genuine desire, you have my blessing. But please don’t believe that one choice is less noble than the other. Women were created to be mothers and wives. And this is a magnificent calling. We are entrusted with the bearing and raising of society. Every single future leader of the world’s nations, every artist, every poet, every dancer, every musician, every doctor, every king, and every warrior will have a mother. And every one of them will need her. Do not let the world fool you into thinking that you need a career to have value. A man cannot take a woman’s place as a mother.

Let me explain something to you--men are strong, powerful creatures. They are the fighters and the soldiers among us. They raise the tides of democracy and spread forth the wealth of nations. They clash on battlefields and uphold honor and dignity. They protect fiercely and love passionately. They were built for these things.

We women were built for other things. You see, women are the heart of civilization. We raise the fighters and we work all our lives to keep the threads of civilization from unraveling. Men build houses, but it is women who make those houses into homes. We are delicate, tender, pure creatures, strong and lovely. We raise society to a higher level. And we dictate just how high that level can be raised. We, as women and mothers, calm the roiling seas of society. We spread love into the earth, watching as it trickles through every living thing, growing more beautiful and stronger with each infusion we give. We are the keepers of light, peace, and beauty.

The world will tell you that this is not the case. It will tell you that tenderness is weakness and that meekness is frailty. It will implore you to bare yourself to others. It will tear away the finer pieces of you, as fabric from a gown, until you are left naked in a stark world that is devoid of the very things it took from you. And you will want to give in. The world will tantalize and shock you and try to convince you that you were made for a very different purpose. And the men who have already fallen prey to this set of false values will not protect you.

You will hear stories about knights in shining armor. Don’t listen to them. The men worth having don’t have shining armor. Their armor is battered and bruised, worn from battle. They will not come in on white steeds. Instead, they will march in on foot, having crossed great distances to reach you. Because the world will have plunged them into a battle for their lives, too. It will have tried to strip them of their righteous strength, seducing them with terrible beauty. And, if those men emerge, they will be battle-worn. Those are the men to look for. You will raise those men. You will nurse those men at the end of each day. And you will ready them each morning for a new battle. And in return for your tender care, those men will rise once again, sword aloft, to protect you.

This world is a battlefield, but do not despair. There is hope! You have been born into a broken world, but you did not come from one. Light has overcome the darkness in the world, and you will once again bask in its glory. Fear not, my darling, for though the sea seems without end, a golden coast awaits you. You will thrash and fight but, eventually, you will break upon the coast. So close your eyes to the darkness and focus instead on the bright, beautiful light ahead of you. The very same light that resides within you. The same light that will reside within the soldier at your side. One day, all will melt away into this glorious eternal sunshine. And together, you and he will walk forth to meet it.

Friday, January 17, 2014

To My Family

To My Family:


I don’t like to talk about this stuff with you all too much. It makes me uncomfortable. I fear I’ll sound didactic or sanctimonious. That’s why you’re getting it in blog form.


Almost four years ago, I joined a church. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. The Mormon church. Not one of you asked me why, and I’m actually pretty glad about that. I wouldn't have known how to answer then.


I do now.


So here’s my reason. You didn’t ask for it, but you’re getting it anyway. Because it’s been the single most important decision of my life and I want a chance to explain it.


When I was five, my parents and I moved from San Diego to Idaho. Idaho sits right in the middle of the “Mormon bubble.” I can remember being in Kindergarten and finding a CTR ring on the playground (CTR stands for "choose the right" and is a commonly used initialism in my church). I hoped I’d get to keep it so I’d fit in with every other kid in my class. In high school, many students in my school walked daily across the street to the Seminary building for an hour long church class. There’s an LDS Institute (a building where church classes are held for college-age people) in my town. I have been firmly entrenched in the Mormon culture for a long time.


And it is a culture. Mormons have their own brand of humor, movies, idioms, and fashion trends. All were inescapable for me all through my childhood and adolescence. As such, I came to fit right in. I laughed at the humor, watched the movies, understood the idioms, and wore the fashion trends. I did get left out occasionally. In Seminary, kids would make “warm fuzzies” (there’s a Mormon phrase), which were just little notes with nice messages on them. Then, those warm fuzzies would get distributed throughout our classes. And I never got one. I didn’t get invited to a lot of youth activities because they were held in church houses or at the Institute. That kind of thing didn’t hurt my feelings too much. I had an unspoken agreement with my LDS friends that I wouldn’t judge them for their faith if they wouldn’t try to proselytize to me.


Then one friend accidentally sent the missionaries to my house. And because this church had been such presence in my life, I let them in and listened to what they had to say.


And then, five months later, I joined the church. After all, it encompassed everything I was familiar with: every boy I had dated, a lot of my friends, that whole culture I had grown up around. It just made sense.


BUT THAT’S NOT WHY I JOINED THIS CHURCH.


Being an only child has given me one strength--I’ve had to learn to gel in a lot of different social groups. I never had a huge group of siblings to shape me. My entire family was pretty diverse. So I’ve had to develop a strong sense of myself as an individual. After working so hard at that, why would I throw it all away to conform to the people around me?


I joined this church because I believe in it. Everything. The culture and people are just a fringe benefit.


I’ve always had a viewpoint with regards to drinking and partying and fooling around with boys. This church matches those beliefs I already held. But that’s still not the reason I joined it.


I chose to give up 10% of my income, a minimum of three hours of my week, having my family there to witness my wedding, coffee, tea, and all sorts of other things because I believe in this church.


You’ve probably heard an awful lot about what my church’s members believe and probably only a solid third of it is accurate. Be that as it is, we do believe in some stuff that could sound a little weird from the outside. It did to me.


When I first decided to be baptized into this church, I met with a friend who threw my scriptures in my face and told me that “book of fairytales” would ruin my life. And all I could do was thank her for her opinion and leave. Because I only believe these things because of feelings I’ve had while studying them. That’s how faith works. I know you’re my family and I could provide scientific evidence to prove it. I know that you love me, too, but science won't prove that. That's where faith steps in.


Praying feels weird and talking about praying feels ever weirder. But praying is exactly what I was doing when I found my faith. And by the time I was done praying, something had changed inside me. But it wasn’t the effects of one prayer that led me to join this church. I prayed about it fervently every day. I still do. I wake up every morning and reaffirm my belief by praying.


I believe in God. And I believe in Jesus Christ. And I believe that this church is the best way for me to get to them both. These beliefs have taught me to have hope. Because they have taught me that there is a reason behind this life we live. They have taught me that family really is the most important thing we have. They have taught me that we will all be together again one day.


This church, as I said, matches my own beliefs on a lot of different points, but that’s not what keeps me coming back. What use is spackle where there are no cracks? Sure, this church reinforces what I already know to be true. But it is the cracks and holes in my understanding, in my very being, that this church trickles into, filling and strengthening. Those cracks--the “whys” that science and human understanding don’t fill--are the reasons I joined this church. And we all have these gaps in our understanding. I try very hard to not judge people for filling their gaps differently. We are all working to fill those gaps for ourselves. And we all go about it differently. I have found what works for me. And I hope you have found, or will find, what works for you. It has beautified my life in ways I never imagined.

I love you all.

Love,
Catherine