The Little Things Matter

I had an interesting experience this last week. One of those experiences that when looking back on it, makes your whole soul want to sing, because you realize that those little things DO matter. That God IS watching over you and He DOES care how your life turns out. How your children's lives turn out.

My sister, who lives almost an hour away texted me last week, inviting me to her daughter's piano recital in two days. I don't go down to her house much anymore for a variety of reasons. Partly because the drive is hard on my body and the anxiety of driving exhausts me. (left over stuff from Lyme) and my sister and I don't have much in common anymore. We have very different values and ethics, and there are times when I don't want my kids around it. I'd rather just stay home and do my thing.

But she is letting my son live at her house while he's going to school and looking for a place of his own, (which is a whole 'nother subject I'm not totally comfortable with) and she has been very loving and generous to him and my other children.

Her daughter's recital was at seven in the evening. ON A SCHOOL NIGHT! That alone was enough to stop me. I don't like going anywhere in the evening. I'm dead by then AND I'm night blind. But for some reason the Spirit told me to go. Over and over, constantly nagging, nagging, nagging, until finally I gave up and promised I would!

I didn't understand it. I didn't want to, and for two days I kept trying to think of excuses to give my sister for why I couldn't go. In fact, originally, when I'd answered her, I told her we had something already going on that afternoon but that I'd love to go, meaning I was sorry I couldn't go. But obviously I didn't write that clearly, because she took it to mean we were coming! I didn't have the heart to retract my answer and with the Spirit constantly telling me I should go, I just pulled myself up by the bootstraps, mentally preparing myself for the torture of the drive.

Well... let me just say... I have never been to a piano recital (and I've been to hundreds. I've played my whole life and even taught for a few years) where EVERY student played like a virtuoso and they were all super young!!! Seriously. I sat there floored and amazed the whole time. The teacher is pricey, but she has a year long waiting list of kids trying to get in with her! Wow! I wanted my kids to have a teacher like that! Every song was well played and beautiful and the teacher didn't just pick the classics. Some students played rock pieces and some new age.

At he end of the recital, my nine year old turned to me and said, "I want to take piano from THAT teacher!"

I almost busted up laughing and tried not to be offended, because I'd just started teaching him and my other son (12) a few weeks ago, feeling guilty that I was letting so much time pass without developing this talent and I KNEW they had the talent. But I'm a "tired" teacher, still struggling with liver issues, still having a hard time feeling good. I'm probably no fun.

The next day I pondered and pondered and felt strongly to ask my town's facebook classifieds page if any of them new of a good piano teacher in town. Long story short, my boys start Tuesday with an amazing lady who I spent quite a bit of time talking with. She's a little pricey also, but will be worth it. I feel really good about her, like she's "the one".

Now, ever since I've told the boys they're taking with this new, amazing teacher, they have been walking on cloud nine. (crazy, I know, but they're young and don't know any better. *snicker*) And even this morning my 9 yr old son came into my room and thanked me profusely for signing him up.

The Spirit has since told me I was supposed to go to the recital to see all those amazing students and to get excited about signing my boys up with their own teacher. It would never have happened otherwise. We would have just kept on going the way we were and then that pebble that was supposed to be dropped into the pond would never had made all those ripples it needed to.

Let this be a testimony to everyone, that God DOES care about the little things. The choices we make and the talents we develop matter. As a mother, my responsibility here is clear, and I am SO grateful I listened.

The Little Things Matter

I had an interesting experience this last week. One of those experiences that when looking back on it, makes your whole soul want to sing, because you realize that those little things DO matter. That God IS watching over you and He DOES care how your life turns out. How your children's lives turn out.

My sister, who lives almost an hour away texted me last week, inviting me to her daughter's piano recital in two days. I don't go down to her house much anymore for a variety of reasons. Partly because the drive is hard on my body and the anxiety of driving exhausts me. (left over stuff from Lyme) and my sister and I don't have much in common anymore. We have very different values and ethics, and there are times when I don't want my kids around it. I'd rather just stay home and do my thing.

But she is letting my son live at her house while he's going to school and looking for a place of his own, (which is a whole 'nother subject I'm not totally comfortable with) and she has been very loving and generous to him and my other children.

Her daughter's recital was at seven in the evening. ON A SCHOOL NIGHT! That alone was enough to stop me. I don't like going anywhere in the evening. I'm dead by then AND I'm night blind. But for some reason the Spirit told me to go. Over and over, constantly nagging, nagging, nagging, until finally I gave up and promised I would!

I didn't understand it. I didn't want to, and for two days I kept trying to think of excuses to give my sister for why I couldn't go. In fact, originally, when I'd answered her, I told her we had something already going on that afternoon but that I'd love to go, meaning I was sorry I couldn't go. But obviously I didn't write that clearly, because she took it to mean we were coming! I didn't have the heart to retract my answer and with the Spirit constantly telling me I should go, I just pulled myself up by the bootstraps, mentally preparing myself for the torture of the drive.

Well... let me just say... I have never been to a piano recital (and I've been to hundreds. I've played my whole life and even taught for a few years) where EVERY student played like a virtuoso and they were all super young!!! Seriously. I sat there floored and amazed the whole time. The teacher is pricey, but she has a year long waiting list of kids trying to get in with her! Wow! I wanted my kids to have a teacher like that! Every song was well played and beautiful and the teacher didn't just pick the classics. Some students played rock pieces and some new age.

At he end of the recital, my nine year old turned to me and said, "I want to take piano from THAT teacher!"

I almost busted up laughing and tried not to be offended, because I'd just started teaching him and my other son (12) a few weeks ago, feeling guilty that I was letting so much time pass without developing this talent and I KNEW they had the talent. But I'm a "tired" teacher, still struggling with liver issues, still having a hard time feeling good. I'm probably no fun.

The next day I pondered and pondered and felt strongly to ask my town's facebook classifieds page if any of them new of a good piano teacher in town. Long story short, my boys start Tuesday with an amazing lady who I spent quite a bit of time talking with. She's a little pricey also, but will be worth it. I feel really good about her, like she's "the one".

Now, ever since I've told the boys they're taking with this new, amazing teacher, they have been walking on cloud nine. (crazy, I know, but they're young and don't know any better. *snicker*) And even this morning my 9 yr old son came into my room and thanked me profusely for signing him up.

The Spirit has since told me I was supposed to go to the recital to see all those amazing students and to get excited about signing my boys up with their own teacher. It would never have happened otherwise. We would have just kept on going the way we were and then that pebble that was supposed to be dropped into the pond would never had made all those ripples it needed to.

Let this be a testimony to everyone, that God DOES care about the little things. The choices we make and the talents we develop matter. As a mother, my responsibility here is clear, and I am SO grateful I listened.

Letting Go and Accepting What Is

Have you ever forgotten a password or username for some account you use? Did you rant and rave, pull your hair out or want to throw your computer against the wall? After that, did you bargain and plead with God to help you to understand the problem only to face more frustration? (are you recognizing the 5 stages of grief here? LOL)

I recently did some serious in depth cleaning of my computer since it wasn't behaving and the cleansing period erased some important things. Like hints at what the password and email were for a certain google account.

The one that affects this blog.

I hadn't posted for a while, because I wait for the Lord to tell me to, so it's easy to forget little things like passwords or whole freakin' email addresses when my computer erases them. Anyway, a few days ago I felt like I might want to write, and when I tried to log on I couldn't. My password and user ID did not match... according to Google.

I KNEW I was doing it right. I was right, right, right! I had my password! I could remember it, dang it. After that, I tried every password I could ever remember using. NOTHING worked. After a couple of days of battle I tried to contact Google but they don't pay people to help recover accounts from forgetful people and my attempts at logging in always ended the same way.

After a week of talking to google "volunteers" and trying to figure it out, and after a solid week of praying and asking for the Lord's help, and not getting it... for SEVEN days, I finally let go. I finally accepted that I might not recover this account, ie this blog. Ever. It might have to be abandoned. And it was finally okay. I could let go, because the Lord was in control. He had already whispered to my mind that if He wanted me to keep blogging, things would work out and I needed to have faith and wait on Him.

Then, this morning, I thought I'd try one more time, just for curiosity's sake and what do you know? Loud and clear, the mistake I'd made was revealed to my mind. I REMEMBERED what I did wrong. I'd forgotten my own email address, or at least a couple numbers at the end, and it wasn't until I had given up, given in, and calmed my mind, that He could tell me my mistake.

As soon as I typed in the correct email, everything went through just fine. I now sit here in awe and amazement, listening to my kids argue out in the living room, but I'm not going to let that affect me. I've just experienced something otherworldly. The Lord spoke to my mind. His words were clear. "You forgot the 01 in the email address." I responded with, "Are you serious? I've been miserable all week, trying to figure this out, beating myself up for being so stupid, and THIS is what was wrong all this time?? Why didn't You tell me sooner!!"

Well, I suppose it's because the Still Small Voice couldn't get through my manic panic. It occurs to me that this is how things work in all aspects of our lives. How often do we miss the message because our thoughts are too loud? How often do we pray, demanding, tell me how to fix this!, over and over, and hear no answer? I really tried to hear. I wanted to get my blog back like you couldn't believe, but it wasn't until I was willing to sacrifice this blog, to give it up, to give it all to Him, that He finally spoke to me in a way I could hear and understand.

This is the pattern of my life. Seriously.

But dang, it was cool and my heart is so full!

The moral of the story is....

Turn off that dang TV!

I have not written here in a while, and that is because I had nothing to say. It's hard to believe, I know, but I don't want to write just to make noise. I want my posts to make a difference, so I hope they do. Plus, I told the Lord that I wasn't going to write another post unless he told me specifically that I should.

Today, He told me I should.

What I'm going to chat with you about today comes from studying with my kids this morning.
Even though I've had a dramatic change of heart over the last few years, I still struggle with making myself sit down and study. And I mean study things that really matter like the Book of Mormon, Preserving the Restoration, or other "good books". I do it every Sunday, but every other day of the week... it's a real crap shoot.

Why, why, why?

Why is it so hard to commune with God even though once I start I absolutely LOVE it? When I study and pray, I feel beyond wonderful, and all of you out there who do it know what I mean. So what keeps me from doing it more often? I feel stupid saying, "Satan made me do it" (or not do it) because I have control over my own actions. At least I think so. *snicker*

I really want to share the gospel with my kids, and the Lord has specifically TOLD me to do it more often... during the week... and I don't.

My husband is out of town today, so we didn't take the sacrament this morning (and I seriously debated blessing it myself since God is no respecter of persons, so why not? but I'm not getting a yes answer on that so we skipped it today) I taught the kids from a section of the Lectures on Faith that talks about how we need to know that God IS, then understand who, what, and how He is, and then to understand that we are doing what He wants us to be doing in our lives. It's not about doing what's right per se, but about doing what is right for us specifically.

Each of  my kids (me included) wrote down what we think we are doing that the Lord specifically wants us to be doing and then we wrote down what we are doing that he doesn't want us doing. Like I said before, it wasn't a "right" or "wrong" lesson. I wanted it to be a soul searching experience of knowing where we stand with God. It was pretty cool. The younger kids (9 &11) had a harder time, but it still sank in, especially with my 17 yr old. He and I actually sat down together later and studied more of The Lectures on Faith. It was so fun, so empowering. Why don't I do this more often? Why am I so lazy? Why does Satan have so much power over me that I would rather veg out and watch TV than teach my kids the gospel? Well, it changes today! I've had too many awesome experiences with Him to waste what he's given me. So from now on, when he speaks to my mind and tells me, "it's time to teach the kids this or that," I promise to turn off the TV and do it.

I would encourage everyone to sit down with their families and do this--specifically talking about The Lectures on Faith. My kids know NOTHING about that book and it was exciting to teach them that it used to be part of the D &C, that it IS the Doctrine part of the D&C! They were amazed!

I want to share with you something that was on my list. Something I do that the Lord has specifically asked me not to. Can you believe I actually do things I've been told not to? I do. All the freakin time. Basically, I waste too much time doing things that don't matter. That's what He told me. I'm throwing away the finite hours I have left of this life. And when He says it like that, I feel very small. I don't like it when He gets after me. I don't like being scolded. Not many people do I suppose.

Now, I am healing and trying to get better, but I do still have to lie down and rest frequently. Which translates to "I watch too much TV". That is one of the things He has asked me to not do. It's very clear, and yet, I keep doing it. I mean, I'm tired. Why can't I watch TV? What's so wrong with it? I sound like a teenager, right?

Well, too much of a good thing isn't healthy, whether it's food, drugs, alcohol, or television! (or other technology) It's going to be hard because I developed habit while I was sick, one of which was television, and I enjoy it. A lot. But while I'm lying down, resting, there isn't much I feel like doing, but I could. I could pick up my scriptures or read other good books. I could meditate and pray. Good grief, these are way better things than wasting time watching mindless television that most of the time is NOT uplifting or wholesome.

My invitation to any and all who read this post is to sit down and figure out if you're doing what the Lord wants YOU to do, and also to pinpoint those things you are doing that you shouldn't be. (not right or wrong, but what is not effective in your life to bring you closer to HIM) It's a way cool experience, but be ready for the answer. He might just tell you to cancel your HBO account.

Turn off that dang TV!

I have not written here in a while, and that is because I had nothing to say. It's hard to believe, I know, but I don't want to write just to make noise. I want my posts to make a difference, so I hope they do. Plus, I told the Lord that I wasn't going to write another post unless he told me specifically that I should.

Today, He told me I should.

What I'm going to chat with you about today comes from studying with my kids this morning.
Even though I've had a dramatic change of heart over the last few years, I still struggle with making myself sit down and study. And I mean study things that really matter like the Book of Mormon, Preserving the Restoration, or other "good books". I do it every Sunday, but every other day of the week... it's a real crap shoot.

Why, why, why?

Why is it so hard to commune with God even though once I start I absolutely LOVE it? When I study and pray, I feel beyond wonderful, and all of you out there who do it know what I mean. So what keeps me from doing it more often? I feel stupid saying, "Satan made me do it" (or not do it) because I have control over my own actions. At least I think so. *snicker*

I really want to share the gospel with my kids, and the Lord has specifically TOLD me to do it more often... during the week... and I don't.

My husband is out of town today, so we didn't take the sacrament this morning (and I seriously debated blessing it myself since God is no respecter of persons, so why not? but I'm not getting a yes answer on that so we skipped it today) I taught the kids from a section of the Lectures on Faith that talks about how we need to know that God is, then understand who, what, and how He is, and then to understand that we are doing what He wants us to be doing in our lives. It's not about doing what's right per se, but about doing what is right for us specifically.

Each of  my kids (me included) wrote down what we think we are doing that the Lord specifically wants us to be doing and then we wrote down what we are doing that he doesn't want us doing. Like I said before, it wasn't a "right" or "wrong" lesson. I wanted it to be a soul searching experience of knowing where we stand with God. It was pretty cool. The younger kids (9 &11) had a harder time, but it still sank in, especially with my 17 yr old. He and I actually sat down together later and studied more of The Lectures on Faith. It was so fun, so empowering. Why don't I do this more often? Why am I so lazy? Why does Satan have so much power over me that I would rather veg out and watch TV than teach my kids the gospel? Well, it changes today! I've had too many awesome experiences with Him to waste what he's given me. If he speaks to my mind and tells me, "it's time to teach the kids this or that," I promise to turn off the TV and do it.

I would encourage everyone to sit down with their families and do this--specifically talking about The Lectures on Faith. My kids know NOTHING about that book and it was exciting to teach them that it used to be part of the D &C, that it IS the Doctrine part of the D&C! They were amazed!

I want to share with you something that was on my list. Something I do that the Lord has specifically asked me not to. Can you believe I actually do things I've been told not to? I do. All the freakin time. Basically, I waste too much time doing things that don't matter. That's what He told me. I'm throwing away the finite hours I have left of this life. And when He says it like that, I feel very small. I don't like it when He gets after me. I don't like being scolded. Not many people do I suppose.

Now, I am healing and trying to get better, but I do still have to lie down and rest frequently. Which translates to "I watch too much TV". That is one of the things He has asked me to not do. It's very clear, and yet, I keep doing it. I mean, I'm tired. Why can't I watch TV? What's so wrong with it? I sound like a teenager, right?

Well, too much of a good thing isn't healthy, whether it's food, drugs, alcohol, or television! (or other technology) It's going to be hard because I developed habit while I was sick, one of which was television, and I enjoy it. A lot. But while I'm lying down, resting, there isn't much I feel like doing, but I could. I could pick up my scriptures or read other good books. I could meditate and pray. Good grief, these are way better things than wasting time watching mindless television that most of the time is NOT uplifting or wholesome.

My invitation to any and all who read this post is to sit down and figure out if you're doing what the Lord wants YOU to do, and also to pinpoint those things you are doing that you shouldn't be. (not right or wrong, but what is not effective in your life to bring you closer to HIM) It's a way cool experience, but be ready for the answer. He might just tell you to cancel your HBO account.

Going, going, gone!

Isn't it sad that the movies that lift the spirit the most are shoved under the carpet the quickest?

In a previous post I wrote about Miracles from Heaven. I loved that movie. So many good things to say about it. Today I watched, The Letters. The story of Mother Teresa.

Was there anyone who was a better example of following the Savior? I'm not sure there was... or is. How many people do you know who have left everything to LIVE among the poor and take care of them? Who gave ALL to care for the hungry, naked, and lonely?

From my youth, I've looked up to her, but as I watched this movie today, I found myself wishing I could be more like her. To have her faith, her determination, her grit.

But I don't know how to be like her. I can't drop everything and live among the poor. I have a husband and young children to take care of. Now that I know what it means to follow the Savior, I really want to. I want to teach my kids to. I can look for people to serve, but will it truly ever be like what she did? We all have our own paths to follow, but somehow I want one more like hers... sometimes.

Her life was lonely. She faced so many hardships along the way, yet saw so many miracles. She felt abandoned by the Lord at times. Can you believe that? Her, feeling abandoned? Most people only see what she did on the outside, but don't realize how she was feeling on the inside as the years moved along. She was humble and gave all credit to God, but she also was human. She cried, she ached, she mourned.

So maybe we can be like her. Someone who keeps going despite our hardships. Someone who prays in faith even when they feel their prayers aren't being heard. Someone who steps out the door to ease someone's suffering even when you're suffering yourself.

This movie is on Netflix right now, so go watch it. It will fill you with such love that you will be near bursting to share it. This is what we need more of in the world. People who want to be like Mother Teresa. People who hear the Lord's voice and stop at nothing to do what he has commanded them to do.

Like St. Francis of Assisi, this is my prayer.

The rains came down and the floods came up!

Okay, so it wasn't rain, but we still woke up to a flood this last Sunday morning.

Seriously.

We found an inch of water in our basement.

For the first time this season, we turned on our sprinklers to water our yard. It went fine, but the last zone would have been on late and our timers aren't hooked up yet. My husband decided he didn't want to stay up til midnight and that he'd just get up early the next morning to water the last zone.

A glue joint failed in the sprinkler line and blew apart. A one inch line with a hundred pounds of pressure. Yep. A flood.

My husband woke me up out of a sound sleep at 7:15 AM, and I have a really hard time waking up fast. It's left over ridiculousness from my past illness. Normally, I have to lie in bed and drink water and detox tea for about 20 minutes to a half hour before I can get up and go. So, in a stupor, I stumbled down the stairs to have my feet squish into the lake that was my carpet.

This is no way for a morning-challenged individual to wake up.

I made my way to the back bedroom where my husband was firing orders and helping my 16 yr old son empty his room. In the beginning, tempers were short and everyone was bleary-eyed and confused. If it were a fire, I don't think--as a family--we'd make it. We'd be too dang slow getting out of the house.

In my son's room, water was streaming in through the base of his window. I looked out between the slats of the blinds to see the window-well half full of water. A lake really. I turned to my husband and asked, "Shouldn't we take care of this first?" It seemed comical to see him with the shop-vac, sucking up water from the carpet, when there was at least twenty gallons--or probably more--of water left in the window well.

I think as humans, we do this often. Focus on the wrong thing, thinking we're solving our problem, when really, all we need to do is turn a few degrees to see what we really need to work on.

Lucky for me, my husband is a plumbing contractor and he already had a pump, pumping water from the window. Dang, he's good! He was the only one who had a working brain that early.

We spent the rest of the day emptying three bedrooms, pulling up carpet and padding, taking it out to the truck to go to the dump, and taking our belongings out to the back lawn to dry (blankets, clothes, and part of one mattress was wet)

Here's the cool thing, and it's something my husband brought up to me. We were SO lucky! It could have been so much worse! Most of our stuff was already in rubber totes and off the floor. The ONLY thing that is probably totally ruined is my son's iPad that he had lying on the floor next to his bed--oh, and his scriptures, which I'm now trying to dry. We seriously couldn't believe it. Even my cedar chest, which was against a wall that had flooding around it, was only damp on the very bottom!! Nothing was harmed on the inside AT ALL! And I'm talking keepsakes, one-hundred year old family bibles, pictures of ancestors, old letters etc...

We also pulled together to work in harmony--for the most part--and it was something I really prayed for first thing in the morning, because it was really hard to feel cheerful, and everyone was a little ornery. Understandably. But we got along, everyone helping, and I realized there is hope for mankind. If we can make it happen under that kind of stress, anyone can.

And then there is the miraculous fact that my husband felt like waiting to water the last zone until the morning, and that he even remembered to get up early, that it was only an inch of water and not a foot! And who knows how long it was running? And that the only thing ruined was an iPad! Wow! We feel so blessed.

Just because you are doing your best, trying to always choose the right, trying to deepen your relationship with the Savior, doesn't mead bad things won't happen to you. Sometimes terrible things. What the Lord does, is help you through it. He'll inspire your mind to wake up early, or tell you to wait until morning to finish watering.

Do we hear that little voice in our head and think it's the Holy Ghost or do we just assume it's our own mind, droning on in that boring monotone voice we've become accustomed to? My husband and I have learned to not ignore that voice or those gut feelings that have saved our bacon more than once.

Yeah, we all go through bad things, but if He can, He'll try to make it as easy on us as possible, because we'll all walk through hills and valleys in this life--and sometimes even the shadow of death--but He is always with us if we open our eyes to see Him.

His yoke is easy and his burden is light.

A prophet! A prophet! We don't need another prophet!

I frequently go a spiritual healer and she has become a close friend, someone amazing who has done SO much to help me on my road to healing... physically and spiritually. I would even go so far as to call her a prophetess of sorts.

We don't put much stock in spiritual healers in the Church, and she (let's call her Maggie) is LDS, although I would call her fringe LDS because of what she does and teaches. Even so, her testimony in the "Church" is still rock solid. It's the only place we really differ in our opinions, but that's okay. She's living her truth and I'm living mine. If you want to know how two different truths can be true at the same time, read this AWESOME post about "truths" from Journey to the Fullness. 

Our daughters became friends at the charter school we both send our kids to and they wanted to get together and hang out, so I called Maggie who I didn't know at all, wanting to introduce myself. I was still very sick at the time and did not want to drive a lot and hoped she'd bring her daughter to our house. She asked about my illness and then offered her services. She is a licensed Naturopath as well as having a degree in physics and I think something else, I think. She's pretty dang smart.

The last thing I wanted was another doctor and I told her I was happy with mine. She said, "I'm not that kind of doctor." I didn't know at the time that she was a doctor of the spirit, which honestly, I'd never heard of. She kept pressing me, so I relented. I later learned that she'd felt really impressed to meet with me. She does accept pay, because she does this for her living, but she doesn't put a price on it. She tells people to pay either what they can afford or what the Spirit tells them to.

Long story short, she has taught me some amazing things. Some of which I had to go home and really study and pray about. You see, our minds, traditions, and habits, often don't LET us think past what we already know. Some things are just too impossible, too far fetched or difficult to understand. I find this happens all the time, even with the people who have left the LDS faith in search of higher truth and light. Some still can't wrap their minds around things that are too "far out" to grasp. Even when the Spirit whispers it's true. It's like reading Teachings of the Prophet Joseph Smith or reading the Lectures on Faith for the first time. It blows our minds that OUR beloved prophet would teach such wild, "out there" things.

Maggie has taught me how to cast out devils, demons, dark spirits etc... and what their differences are and why they get attached to us (and we ALL have spirits attached to us, which is why the Savior spent so much time casting out evil spirits while he was here). She taught me how to make sure I am connected to the REAL Jesus Christ. There are a lot of bad guys out there, ready and willing to be "your" savior and some people get connected to them and then wonder why when they raise their arm to the square to make an evil spirit leave, it doesn't work.

She taught me that you have to use "qualifiers" when you do things in Jesus' name to let everyone and every "thing" know you are talking about THE Jesus Christ. Qualifiers are other names the Savior goes by, like the Holy one of Israel, Alpha and Omega, the Great I am, The Son of God, Savior of the world etc... So, in other words, when casting out evil spirits you'd say something like...

"In the name of Jesus Christ, the Holy One of Israel, the Son of God, I command all evil spirits, demons, and devils to depart. I ask Heavenly Father to send holy angels to escort these spirits to wherever they need to go, and to fill that vacuum they leave behind with light and healing, in the name of Jesus Christ, amen."

We do not need the priesthood to cast out evil spirits, just faith and the power Jesus lends us. He expects us to do these things and yet they've been forgotten. When was the last time you saw someone cast out an evil spirit in Gospel Doctrine class? That would be one class I would attend!

When my son was on his mission, he had the opportunity to do this. He and his comp went to the Elder's Quorum prsident's house one evening. The guy lived in a house with a bunch of other people, because they were poor and were pooling their resources. In the back room there was a man lying naked on the table, thrashing and looking totally possessed (Think The Exorcist. Seriously.)

Immediately my son had a powerful feeling to put his hands on the man and command the evil spirits to come out. It terrified him to do it, but Maggie and I had taught him how and he had the faith and ability, so he did. He placed one hand on the guy and the other to the square, and in Jesus Christ's name, voiced the command. My son's companion had gotten totally wigged out before this and had fled the house before my son had time to do anything, so he was alone with the EQ pres and this wigged out stranger.

The guy stopped thrashing immediately. He jumped off the table, his wits having come back to him once again, and grabbed a blanket to wrap around himself. He said he was freezing and to call an ambulance. He'd been doing drugs, you see. Drugs and alcohol give easy access to bad spirits who want inside us.

Anyway, my son told me that it was an amazing and powerful experience that gave him a firm testimony of the power the Savior holds over demons.

Evil spirits will frequently be drawn back to their "victim" under certain circumstances and Maggie has taught me the different techniques that need to be done to keep them away, healing through energy and prayer. Everything physical leaves a spiritual footprint. Both need to be healed to be completely overcome.

There is so much more to the world of spirits than we are aware of and yet it is very real. We can become connected to spirits and unseen worlds when we become addicted to things like video games, drugs and alcohol, or suffer abuse. There is so much information that I can't even begin to share it all. Maggie puts on seminars and lectures to teach others how to do these things themselves and has a great mission to get this information out there. It's hard work and she's busy doing these things almost 24/7.

If you have addictions you can't overcome, demons that haunt you, anger issues you can't get rid of or understand, or any other issue that plagues you, she can help. If you can't come to her house, she uses Skype. She and her husband help people all over the world! It can get pretty deep and heavy, and some people have a hard time with what she teaches, but whenever I have difficulty doing or believing something, I come home, study and pray about it, and ten the Spirit usually whispers that she was correct after all.

What she is doing is absolutely what the Savior wants her doing. Of that I have no doubt. I am so grateful there are people here on Earth who have this kind of knowledge, who can help those of us who don't.

If you want more info, let me know.

The Lord told you to WHAT???

Not long ago, one Sunday morning, I woke up and felt like we should take our kids to see the movie, Miracles from Heaven. It had just come out and I'd heard good things about it, but hadn't decided on a day to go see it.

Our Sundays are so peaceful now that we've quit going to church. It used to seem like World War Three trying to get everyone ready on time. I don't know why there was so much contention. Maybe we're more argumentative in our home than other families. Who knows? I'd like to think we aren't that different, but we do have two teenagers living here, so that tells you something.

Anyway, as the day progressed, and after we'd had our own little worship service, I felt impressed again that we should take our kids to see that movie. Now, I am still steeped in quite a few past traditions I was raised with, one of those being, you DON'T go to movies on Sunday.

I turned to my husband, who was sitting on the bed next to me, and asked how he'd feel about going to see that movie today. He shrugged and said it didn't matter to him. You see, he wasn't raised in the church and had never become fully entrenched in the LDS traditions, and there were a lot of things he didn't agree with during the time of his "active" status. At the time, I took what I could get and I was just grateful he'd be active with me at all--and he was... for 13 long years without a complaint.

I decided to pray about it--which has become my go-to about anything I don't "get". I got the same answer. "Take your kids to see this movie and take them today." I answered by saying that it wasn't keeping the Sabbath day holy to go to the movies on Sunday, and the Spirit, who is ever patient with me, repeated himself.

So, with my heart fluttering in fear--because seriously folks--it was scary doing something like this that I had been taught from my first moments of life--was wrong. We hopped in the car and went to the theater!

I actually hoped I wouldn't see anyone else I knew there! How stupid, since if I did see someone I knew, they'd be "sinning" too! We all settled into our seats with our treats and I remember having this totally giddy feeling. I can't really describe it other than to say I felt so good, so free, so happy, being there. Like this was "right". Even though I'd fought my traditions the whole way, I knew we were being obedient.

There aren't words to describe how I felt during that movie, how "moving" it was for all of us. There wasn't a dry eye in the house, especially mine. If you haven't seen it, rent it for sure! It's not in theaters anymore, but it might be out in DVD.

But that's not the end of this cool adventure. The Lord wasn't through teaching me! 

On the ride home, we were all so happy, giggling even, talking about our favorite parts of the show, when my 14 yr old daughter said to me, "I'd like a cross necklace of my own. Like the girl in the movie."

My heart stopped right there! We don't wear crosses in our church! Wait a minute. I'm not in that church anymore. I don't need to abide by it's rules... or did I on this one?

If you haven't seen it, there is a scene where the main character, a very sick little girl who is dying of a rare digestive illness, takes off her cross necklace. Her mom hangs it on the IV pole as she's about to go to have an MRI. Her roommate, another very sick little girl who has cancer, asks her why she wears the cross. (she's atheist and has no idea what the cross represents to the little girl)  The girl, (sorry, I can't remember names) with the stomach problems says... and here's the part I love... "I wear it because it reminds me that God is always with me."

Such a powerful moment in the movie. 

My knee jerk reaction to my daughter was to tell her no, but the spirit stopped me, asking me, "What's wrong with wearing a cross?" Well, the reason the church gave me from the time I could speak didn't seem like a valid reason to me anymore. Yes, we focus on Christ's life and not his death, yada, yada, yada, but I had the feeling that there was more to it. Of course, He didn't just give me the answers. I had to figure it out for myself. 

I texted Adrien Larsen and asked him if he knew. He wasn't totally sure, but did tell me that the cross was common decor in early LDS church buildings and that it's use diminished in the early 1900's because of cultural belief. 

So, I dove in, looking up where our aversion to the cross came from. I learned that it did start in the early 1900's with a president of the church (seriously can't remember which one now. You'll have to look it up if you want the details. I told you I had serious memory issues! LOL) who didn't want us associated with the Catholic Church AT ALL. He publicly called them the Whore of all the Earth and started the new rule that we should not wear crosses anymore--that it was the mark of the beast! I learned in my research that many early apostles were buried with a cross on their caskets. Wow! Here is an interesting article I found in my research. Read it at your leisure HERE.

And if Joseph Smith didn't have an issue with the cross, then I wouldn't either anymore! 

Easier said than done.

I prayed about what I'd learned, asking for the Lord's advice at this point. He told me that if my daughter wanted a cross, and it made her think of Him, and reminded her that He was ALWAYS with her, then she should wear it. The cross is the universal symbol of Christianity and if one person wants to give it the meaning of death, torture, and agony, that's their prerogative. If it means to someone else, life, resurrection, and the sacrifice of the Lord, then great!

I told my daughter she could absolutely have a cross and we went about the job of finding the perfect one. She now wears it all the time. She loves it and it makes her feel connected to the Savior in a way she needed. 

I own a cross too. I've owned it from the time I was born. My aunt, who belonged to some Pentecostal church I don't remember the name of, gave it to me at the time of my birth. It's meant for a newborn, so the cross is tiny, silver, and extremely beautiful. I never wore it once in 45 years. I wear it all the time now. 

Here's the thing. I still have hangups about wearing it. I'm trying to get over them, but I feel self conscious when I have it on, wondering what my "Mormon" friends will think if they see me. I used to be one of them. I know how it is. I know how they think, and I don't like people condemning me. (yes, it's one of my weaknesses. I'm well aware). 

We are all SO judgmental. It's automatic. Even among those of us who have left the church in search of more truth and light. We pick each other apart if we don't understand another's witness. I mean, how do you argue when someone says, "the Lord told me to do this?" How can we say, "No he didn't! He'd never say that!" How do we know what he'd say? 

"My ways are not your ways. My thoughts are not your thoughts." (something to remember)

My cross means a few different things to me. It reminds me that the Lord is always with me. It reminds me of his sacrifice. It reminds me of all I left behind when I left the church. The good and the bad. It reminds me of what I'm searching for and hoping to find--A face to face with the Savior. And last of all, it reminds me of how much I used to judge people who were different from me, how much I still judge people, and how I hope to stop doing that. The Lord teaches us all in individual ways. He gives us the lessons we need in the way we need them. 

Let's cast off our judgments and just love one another... it's one of the greatest commandments, after all.

And don't come back unless you repent!

I was mowing the lawn one Saturday evening a year ago (my husband was out there with me weed-eating) when the entire bishopric showed up at our house and handed over a letter sealed in an envelope. They didn't stay to visit, to ask how we were, or anything else. They got back into their car and drove away as we stood there in confusion, staring after them.

We went inside and read the letter together. It was a letter from our bishop. This is what it said.

          "Because we have been unable to get together, I feel it necessary to write 

            this letter. I am deeply concerned about you and the direction you have 

            taken. I would sincerely like to meet with you and discuss your concerns, 

            and until we do, I need to counsel you to refrain from sharing your new 

            found beliefs in church meetings or with members or non-members within 

            or outside the ward. You are welcome to attend as long as your 

            conduct and comments do not cause disruption and are consistent 

            with established church doctrine. Failure to heed this counsel can 

            be considered apostasy and would be cause for disciplinary action.

            I hope you realize what you stand to lose if you persist in following the 

            teachings of an apostate. You could lose the blessings of an 

            eternal family, temple blessings, priesthood, and even your membership 

            in the church.

            I encourage you to come meet with me as quickly as possible and hopefully 

            we will be able to work through these issues.

            Sincerely, Bishop --------- "

Here's the funny thing. In the year and a half preceding this letter, I'd never caused a disruption, argued, or talked about my "new found" views with anyone at church. I hadn't really gone to church much as I'd been so sick. I was shocked that he thought he could tell us not to discuss our beliefs with anyone out of the ward or anyone not a member, let alone those in the church. That's basically the whole world. I laugh just thinking about it. I did write back. 

Dear Bishop                                                                                                    May 12, 2015

We sure appreciate your concern for us, but this is getting blown way out of proportion. I think we should clear things up, so there is no misunderstanding. We are not following anyone but the Savior, and him alone. We do not follow Denver Snuffer. We don’t associate with him. We don’t give him money, and we have nothing to do with him. We just had serious questions and he was able to answer some of them in the books he wrote. Instead of condemning us and assuming things, maybe you should take the time to read what he actually wrote. He has vast knowledge of the Book of Mormon and has made me fall in love with that book more than at any other time in my life. I feel closer to the Savior than I ever have. My life has completely changed and I feel God’s love so fully and profoundly that it cannot be denied. We have experienced many miracles recently and it is all because we went in search of the Savior and we found him.

 I don’t know where you are getting the idea that we believe in anything else. We have not come in to meet with you because we know there is no point. You won’t listen to what we have to say, we know. There should be plenty of room in the church for slight variances of belief. Are we supposed to be sheep? We can’t study on our own and learn doctrine that isn’t discussed in Sunday school?

And even if we were wrong, threatening to excommunicate us for discussing our profound love of the Savior with anyone outside the church or outside our neighborhood is completely out of line.

Anyway, I like the way Joseph Smith said it best…

"I do not like the old man being called up for erring in doctrine. It looks too much like the Methodists and not like the latter-day-saints. Methodists have creeds which a man must believe or be kicked out of their church. I want the liberty of thinking and believing as I please. It feels so good not to be trammeled." Joseph Smith

We aren’t out to cause problems or create drama. We haven’t done anything to warrant what feels like persecution and threats. I have been a member of this church for forty-four years and I’ve never felt singled out like this, just because I may think a verse in the Book of Mormon may mean something different than someone else. I love the gospel. I love the Book of Mormon. I am not afraid of my church’s history or studying Joseph Smith’s words. For too long they have been hidden. I love learning and I intend to “search out the best books and learn” all I can before I die.

Okay, so I probably made a mistake using the term "sheep", because in the letter I received back from the bishop, he jumped all over that, saying we should be like sheep. The Savior's sheep etc...  Anyway, I'm not going to get into that, but after receiving that second letter, my husband went over to the bishop's house and nicely told him to leave us alone. 

And he has.

So, we are not excommunicated as of yet. We haven't resigned either. Mainly because that seems like a lot of work and would take energy I don't have. I just don't care enough to do it. I don't feel like a Mormon anymore. I don't subscribe to the church anymore. It isn't something I care about anymore. I'm tired of being a square peg pushed, shoved, and hammered into a round hole. I'm done. Completely. My husband feels the same, thank heaven. 

Here's to moving forward.

As I went down in the river to pray

I know there are a lot of people, who when they begin this particular spiritual journey, wonder "when" they should be re-baptized. They have a testimony of the Savior, the Book of Mormon and the many things that are being opened up to them in that marvelous book, most have read Denver Snuffer's books and know of his admonishment, as well as the Lord's to be re-baptized, but often, we wait for a sign from heaven. 

But most of that time, the sign comes after the obedience, which totally sucks.



I wonder if it's fear holding people back. True-blue, unadulterated fear. Are they holding onto friends and family who they don't want to disappoint? Are they afraid their reputations would be ruined if anyone found out? They would be. Maybe it's that they don't want their neighbors to know they're "apostates." And they probably don't want to put all these people, who they love, through the agony of their excommunication. But are those good enough reasons to hold back, waiting? Is your excuse that the Lord hasn't told you specifically to be re-baptized? 

May I be bold and say, yes he has. Many times over. Every time you read the scriptures and every time you listen to Denver speak.

This post is for the scardy-cats. 

I was one of the scardy-cats. I didn't want to ruin a good thing, and I had a good reputation in our ward until my son came home early from his mission. I was respected by friends and liked being looked up to. 

This post is the story of how I escaped the garbage of fear and doubt and was finally re-baptized.

I'd had a feeling for a long while that I should do it, but I told the Lord it just wasn't working out. There was nowhere to BE baptized that wasn't FULL of people, and I wanted my baptism to be beautiful and sacred, without a large audience. Honestly, if I were telling the whole truth, there was a piece of my heart that was embarrassed to be seen being baptized in this area of over-populated Mormons. What would they think???

I spent months in this debate.

Then, in June of last year, my sister who lives on Maui called me and said, "I'm bored, lonely, and depressed. I'm buying your ticket and you're coming to visit." My first reaction was that I couldn't go to Hawaii! I was too sick still. I didn't have the energy. I had to do daily detox cleanses and it was just too hard, but something inside me told me I needed to do this, so with a leap of faith, I said okay.

After I had made the decision to go, the ever-pressing need to be baptized magnified. I had the thought, wouldn't it be cool to be baptized there? Why, yes it would, the Lord seemed to say. I didn't know anyone there who was like me in my "new-found" beliefs, and neither did my sister who doesn't think anything like me spiritually or religiously, and hasn't been active in the church for years and years.

I got on LDS Remnant on facebook and asked if anyone knew of someone in Hawaii who could baptize me. I didn't expect much to happen, and honestly, I was afraid someone WOULD know who could baptize me there. I was still letting fear dictate my life. I'm sure there are a few of you out there who know what I mean. And wouldn't you know it? There was a man there who could do it. Except the guy didn't live on Maui. He lived on the big island. Well, dang. Guess I couldn't be baptized after all.

The Lord had other ideas and told me to contact him anyway, so I obeyed. He (we'll call him George) was overjoyed to do this for me. At first, we tried to figure out ways to get my sister and me over to the big island, but I just couldn't afford two tickets there. I didn't have much money, most of my money had gone toward medical expenses. I was dirt poor. And then George offered to fly to Maui. He and I had frequent phone calls trying to work things outs, flights etc... But something inside kept losing faith and kept telling me I should just let it go. Cancel the whole thing. It was too hard and too much work and I didn't have the money to pay for George's ticket to Maui. I later found out that the Lord told George not to offer to pay, because I needed to learn sacrifice if I really wanted to make this happen. Funny thing, He'd told me the same thing in a very humbling moment of prayer. I tended to give up if things got too hard, but Jesus wasn't about to me do that this time. I DID want this to happen. The closer it got, the more I desperately wanted it to happen.

George did the bulk of the work, trying to find a flight that would bring him to Maui and have it fit both our schedules and be one I could afford (he was about to leave for the states, but before I'd even called him, he was going to get a ticket for July 3rd, a Friday, but the spirit had told him to go on the Sunday instead. George had thought it strange at the time, but had obeyed and had bought his ticket for the states for the 5th instead.)

And then I'd called him! It was an amazing testimony that things are NOT random. That the Lord DOES make things happen on schedule when we let him! 

We booked the flight and I paid for it, (keeping my fingers crossed that my husband wouldn't kill me for spending more money) I was so scared and excited. My baptism would be on July, 3rd, the only day George and I could get together. The day he had originally wanted to leave for the states. 

George asked me where I wanted the baptism to take place. I had no idea. I didn't know Hawaii at all. Now I know a ton of places, but he said he knew one that would be perfect.

When we picked him up at the airport and I met George for the first time, I was blown away by how loving he was. Never had I met anyone (and I'm not kidding) who reminded me so much of the Savior. He was so kind and non-judgmental. He was also drop dead gorgeous and hard to not stare at. A Greek god. Seriously. My sister, who was single at the time, nearly fell over her feet, all gaga for him. Thank heavens he took it in stride!

He asked if we could stop at the store to buy bread and wine, so of course we did that. I'd never taken the sacrament with wine before. He bought kosher wine and a special kind of bread that I can't remember the name of. (One of those stupid forgetful brain things).

We drove the the Iao Valley National Park, which is one of the most beautiful places on Earth. To the Hawaiians, it's a sacred, very holy place, where their kings and queens are buried. I couldn't think of a better place to have my baptism, except for one problem....

It was the 4th of July weekend and everyone was out to enjoy a good time.

George said not to worry, that the Lord would provide and had shown him exactly where we should do the baptism. George had been to the Iao Valley before, so I trusted him and followed him down the lush, green path. It wasn't long before we detoured off the path that went in direct violation to the signs posted that said to "stay on the path". George didn't seem to mind that we were breaking the rules. We hiked over to where the stream cuts through the woods, like you see in these pictures and I'd never seen anything so beautiful and peaceful. Except when we stepped out into the clearing, in the spot George had said the Lord had shown him, it was full of people! 

For a split second I panicked.

All George said was, "Huh. I'd thought for sure this was the spot." He turned without a second thought and followed the stream down (not on a path, if I remember right) over logs and boulders. A few minutes later we stepped out into a beautiful location. Not a soul in sight, which was miraculous in itself. 

Right before us lay the perfect font. George stopped and said, "This is it. This is the place the Lord showed me." You see, even George had made a mistake. He had assumed he "knew" the Lord's thoughts, knew exactly what He'd meant--that water hole up the stream. But God had intended a different location all the time. It's a mistake all of us frequently make--assuming we understand things completely. But the Savior lovingly pointed us to where we were really supposed to go and when we made it there, the spirit confirmed that this was where we should be. It was truly an amazing experience I can hardly put into words.

 This is an actual photo I took of the spot. It's much deeper than it looks.

The exact depth it needed to be. About three and a half feet.

A cool thing is, that almost ALWAYS at that time of day, in the afternoon, the Iao Valley clouds over and it rains. It's seldom that it doesn't happen, but when we stepped out into the correct spot, there was literally a pillar of light shining through the clouds onto the pool of water where we were going to perform the baptism. The rest of the stream was in shadow. This is a photo of that moment. (I have pics of the actual baptism and a bunch with all of us who were there, but I feel impressed to keep them private)

Let me sidestep for a second. My sister has a friend, who when she heard (because my sis has kind of a loud mouth and announced it to everyone) that I was going to renew my vows to the Savior, she wanted to come. My first was reaction was to say no. This was supposed to be a special experience! Sacred and reverent and this friend was anything but! She was older, yet wore teeny-tiny mini skirts and very revealing tops. She smoked a lot and drank even more. (yes, I realize how judgemental this sounds, but I'm trying to be honest)
I didn't want her there, but before I could open MY big mouth, the Lord told me to let her come. 

He is much wiser than I.

So, there the four of us were, on the edge of heaven, sitting on the shores of this beautiful stream. George broke the break and poured the wine and blessed it. We all took the sacrament together. The emotions flowing through me were overwhelming. So powerful that I couldn't stop the tears from streaming down my face at the gift I was being given. I didn't deserve it. 

George asked me to share why I was doing this, so I did, my heart overflowing with the peace and love for these three people with me. A love that was unexplainable, but powerful. Then my sister shared her feelings, (all unplanned) and they were beautiful. Then her friend, who was born and raised Catholic asked if she could share. She told us how grateful she was that I had allowed her to come, that she'd needed this, that she didn't have many spiritual experiences in her life, and then she shared the story of her miraculous healing from epilepsy when she was young. It was truly amazing and had us in tears again. Her experience had solidified her testimony of the Savior. 

I was so grateful the Lord had known better and had wanted her there with us. She added to the spirit of the occasion more than words can express and I was brought to my knees in shame for having initially not wanting her to come. 

Then George led me down into the water. He held is arm to the square--this beautiful soul who looked just like a Nephite Warrior. And then he prayed, asking God to give him the authority to perform my baptism. The spirit surrounding us was so thick you could cut it. And then he dipped me below the water, washing away my doubts, my fears, my past, my sins. 

I don't remember feeling a "baptism of fire" when I came up. I only remember seeing the sun shining down on us and feeling so happy. Happier than I had for a long time. I left that experience, knowing it was right, that it was a gift, that too many miraculous things had happened to make it turn out, to be a coincidence. 

The Lord wants us to be baptized. He has commanded us to do it, to re-commit. Don't let anything stop you. Not the church, your friends, or your family. Don't purposely hold yourself back, which was what I'd been doing. The Lord had specifically told me that I would not move forward and have more spiritual experiences--like I was begging him for--until I did this. Since that time, last July, I can't even tell you how much I've grown. How easily his voice comes to me. How easily I hear his commands and feel inspiration. Greater things are coming. I know this. And I can't wait.

Be true and faithful. Not afraid. Be not ashamed, like I had been. Once you make the commitment to do it, the Lord will do the rest.

Sent home a disgrace

I was perfectly content living in the middle.

By that I mean, believing what Denver Snuffer had taught me in his books, having spiritual experiences myself, AND being an active Latter Day Saint. I was a stellar member and would comment regularly in Gospel Doctrine and Relief Society, trying to help people open their minds and souls to the spirit. I was still a believer and drew self esteem from being popular among my friends and "looking good" to the fine people of my ward--all the while secretly studying forbidden doctrine.

When my son came of age to serve a mission, he had is own experiences that changed his mind from not wanting to serve at all to feeling impressed that he should go.

I was beyond excited! Especially since I'd served a mission myself. I was familiar with all the great things he would experience. I knew the friendships he would make, the families whose lives he would affect. Plus, it made me feel like a successful parent, having my oldest child serve a mission. I liked the feeling it gave me, having a missionary I could brag about. (I'm being brutally honest here... obviously)

I'm going to take a quick detour for a moment.

From the very beginning, I felt like my bishop didn't like me. When I taught Gospel Doctrine, ( a few years before I got sick) he would sit on the front row, frowning at me, like his disapproved of the way I taught. I liked my class to be deep and interesting and long before I found Denver, I was asking hard questions of my class, trying to get them to dig deep and find difficult answers. I frequently received praise for my lessons. One high councilman personally requested my ward so he could attend my class. I'm not saying this to brag, although it did make me feel really good, but to paint a picture of the good that was happening in our ward. I liked pushing the envelope. I like asking uncomfortable questions and I really liked helping people find the darkness inside and eradicating it. I liked being up front and leading the discussions, and I REALLY loved the praise I received. In a way, I needed it, feeling like I needed to be good at something. Anyway, my bishop--before he was my bishop--did not appreciate my technique and style. Like I said, he frequently sat on the front row frowning. He's a scriptorian. Has the scriptures practically memorized, and I don't think he appreciated my interpretations.

When he was announced as our new bishop, the spirit told me right in that moment that I would be released, and it would happen really soon. I didn't believe it. I'd barely been in a year. But exactly two weeks later I was released. I couldn't believe it. This was the beginning of a downhill slide for our family.

I don't hold anything against our bishop--anymore--but for a while there, it was really hard to not feel angry about everything we experienced where he was concerned. Our interviews were stilted and uncomfortable--he actually sat and played with his ipad for 15 minutes while we waited for our son to arrive at the interview. He'd been caught in traffic on the way home from work. My husband and I sat in silence in his office, waiting and waiting, with no conversation, no small talk. Nothing. Pure silence. It was at the moment--the last straw, the cherry on top--that I vowed never to have an interview with him again, and that was BEFORE all of the Denver mess.

My son, who was preparing to serve a mission felt even less liked. Interviews for him were dreaded and the bishop made him feel like he was lacking or unqualified at every turn.

But my son persevered and I was so proud of him!

On his mission, with his second companion, he really struggled. His comp would 't leave their apartment until five in the evening since that is when men came home from work and they couldn't teach women, so for the whole day, my son was stuck at home, trying to find ways to entertain himself. He spent most of the time studying, for hours and hours. He asked me to send him material to read and so I did. I bought him Removing the Condemnation and sent him articles from Adrien Larson's blog--To the Remnant. He absolutely soaked it up like a rain-starved desert plant.

The problems came when he tried to teach his district the lesson "Feeling and Fooling the Spirit" that Adrien had written about. It was the most powerful post my son had ever read and he couldn't stop talking about it. His comp began to tattle on him to the president at every turn. My son had multiple interviews that grew more and more uncomfortable as time went on. Finally, he was accused of being an apostate and if he didn't stop all this nonsense and repent, he'd be sent home. One of the many issues was that my son refused to say he thought Pres. Monson was a prophet. Imagine how that went over.

My son called and told me of all the terrible things that were going on, and that he would probably be coming home soon. His president told him that he was to watch general conference and then they would talk again after. Literally, the next day, five days before conference, he was called into the president's office and was grilled for more information about Denver Snuffer. My son ended up just telling his pres that he wanted to go home, and that after he admitted it out loud, the spirit confirmed to him that it was the correct thing to do.

I called his president myself. The man was a stickler for the rules, didn't let the missionaries hand out Books of Mormon until the second discussion (of which there were few because it was super hard to even get a first discussion), he would only let them do four hours of service a week, and the missionary handbook was their book of scripture. He told me all of the things my boy was doing wrong, and I informed him that I couldn't be prouder of the mission my son had served so far, and that as far as I was concerned, he was coming home a success.

My son only wanted to serve. Really serve the people in his mission. He wanted to teach straight from the Book of Mormon, like missionaries in Joseph Smith's time, but he wasn't allowed to. And if he tried, his comp would turn him in with every offense. It was so difficult for him and super depressing.

When my son came home two days later, our entire family--aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents--were at the airport with posters and balloons, cheering at the bottom of the escalators. You see, no one in my family is active and no one in my husband's family is a member, so nobody thought my son coming home early was anything but wonderful! As soon as he saw us, the tears began. He couldn't believe we were all there for him. He'd actually thought he would have to slink out of the airport a disgrace. Not my boy!!!

His coming home early kicked us out of the closet though! Neither our bishop nor stake president had ever heard of Denver Snuffer, but that quickly changed and we started getting regular phone calls from both of them, asking us to come in for interviews.

The first one, only my husband went to. At that time, he turned in his temple recommend, saying, "If my son isn't worthy to teach, then neither am I." (he was an elder's quorum teacher at the time.) When we quit paying our tithing to the church, mine was also revoked. We didn't go to any more interviews. I just didn't want to. I was tired of the drama and I'd seen so many people get excommunicated that I didn't want to put my kids through that at the time. I didn't want to go through that at the time either.

I'd like to say it all turned out butterflies and roses, but the truth is much more heartbreaking.

My son was singled out an embarrassed in our own ward, so he decided to go to a singles ward. As soon as he walked in those doors the next week (literally) the bishop grabbed him and took him to his office for an interview and started grilling him about being an apostate. Our bishop had called him and explained the whole thing.

I was heartbroken.

We quit going to church at all and starting having our own little worship service in our living room with just our family. It was beautiful and wonderful and frequently brought tears to my eyes, the spirit was so powerful. But when my son left for school, he grew angrier and angrier at the church and further and further away from the spirit.

Now, it's an argument when I try to talk about spiritual things with him. He gets mad and accuses me of forcing it on him. His heart has hardened and I don't know how to help him other than to pray. I ache for him and our relationship which is starting to feel more and more broken as time goes by because I don't want to let go and nag too much. It is taking a lot of faith to let go of this and hand it over to the Lord and most of the time, I'm unsuccessful at it.

Anyway, I've come to peace with a lot of things. We've found a wonderful community to meet with once a month and we love them (although our son doesn't attend with us.) We were also all re-baptized last week, (my second time) which was wonderful, but he didn't do that with us either.) I'll tell you more about those experiences in a different post.

The moral of this story--because I like to end with something people can take with them into their own lives--is that it doesn't always turn out how we expect it to or want it to. Not just with the church or our wards, but with our own children, brothers and sisters, and parents. It's a learning experience and the only thing we can do is stay faithful to the Lord, because if he sees us to it, he will see us through it.