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mormon
The most significant event in my life right now is the advent of Katies' return. The apostrophe goes where it does because both of them are coming back. (Speaking of Apostrophe, Hook was on last night. DANG I forgot how much I love that movie!!!)
That's right. The Katies are returning to Utah Valley and attending UVU for the spring semester. I'm turning in Kate's application today, in fact. We've signed up for a bunch of classes together and hope that she gets into them all. They've found an appartment they really want and have their eyes on a few more if they can't get that one (they REALLY want that one! It's a stone's throw away from Hannah's dorm and is incredibly cheap). They plan on working on campus and I'll get to see them all the time and life will be wonderful. I'm really looking forward to that!
Let's see...what else...oh yeah. HR came after Darel again, and he's basically told me that I am going to be fired at the end of April. He says that he doesn't like it but he can't fight it any more. He's already been VERY merciful and I know that his guaranteeing my job this long has been better than I should expect. So, that sucks, but at least I have plenty of heads up. I can't tell you how grateful I am that Darel has fought this long to keep me.
I'm going to take time out of this post to comment on the times. Retrospective readers will look at this post and note that it comes in the weeks following the passing of Proposition 8 in California. The Church has been the biggest and most vocal supporter of the proposition, donating millions of dollars to aid its passing. The persecution that ensued has been monstrous. If there was ever any relevance to the pro-homosexuality movement as the modern civil rights movement, all credibility for that status has been lost with the desecration of the holy temple. Activists flood the gates every day and spread their "pro-tollerance" rhetoric all over the gates. People climb the gates and graffiti the temple walls. They turn violent whenever anybody tries to remove the signs. This is not the reawakened unity and non-violence we saw come out of the fifties under Martin Luther King (a reverend). No. This is new Missouri.
I bring this up because anybody watching is seeing it finally begin to happen. The signs of the times have been imminent for a hundred years, but never TOO imminent because we've always expected a mass polarization, when the forces of evil from all ends of the socio-political spectrum unite in one mass stand against the church. Obviously that's still a long ways off, but it's definitely beginning. Suddenly, taking a firm stance requires a little courage. Faith is being tested like never before in my lifetime. I'm sure this is only a tiny shadow the real end of times, but one would have to blind not to see this as a step in that direction. As terrifying as it all is, it's also very exciting.
Hang on. I've gotta lab hop.
--
Okay. Half a day later, let's try and get back to the point.
It's weird that a constitutional amendment in California is affecting the tentative truce of religious opinion all the way in Utah. Days after the election results were posted, my institute building had an entire wall full of anti-mormon graffiti, weak sauce though it was. Persecution again. We must be doing something right. And we see the hand of God working everywhere against our oppressors.
Areas very near the LA temple, which has caught the brunt of the anti-8 reverberation, are now completely engulfed in flame. Those mountains see a lot of fires, but this one has the whole community in a panic because of its proximity to the residences. It has already consumed achres and achres of residential land. As a result, the community cannot focus on political rallies; they're worried about their homes. Thank heavens nobody has yet been seriously injured, as far as I know. I am, of course, in no position to state God's purposes or their role in events such as this. Yet, it gives one pause to recollect the cleansing of the Jerusalem Temple by Christ himself in the New Testament. Is this not the same God that took a bullwhip to the moneychangers?
Yet, much of the anti-8 community feels very threatened. Alisa sought me early this morning. She felt frightened. Her delicate coexistance of faith and sexuality had been again thrown out of balance, and she sought comfort. I don't expect she liked what I had to say. Though I tried to be sensitive, loving, and comforting to my life-long friend, I did not bite when she called the actions of the church into question. I stood in a room with President Monson, the councilors and the twelve and raised my hand. Though the ferocity of the church's involvement in this issue surprised me, I stand by the decisions of my leaders because I believe they speak for Christ on earth. I was sympathetic to her plight, supportive and caring, but I was also honest. Those that pass judgement on homosexuals or anybody else for that matter are not at all within their rights. And yet principles, unlike people and all their circumstances, are absolute.
The point that I'm failing to get to is that this whole experience has revitalized the practical element of a latent testimony. Though I have always believed, it has been a long time since my actions have reflected my faith. Lines are beginning to be drawn, and people are being forced to take sides. Well I know what side I'm on. I just needed a little wake-up call and this was it.
I'm probably going to tag this post. The moment I do, anti-mormon rhetoric will flood my inbox. But I don't care. I've heard it all before and it doesn't bother me. I know where I stand and I know why, and not even the most ingenuous blogger can change that.
This post is going to be part testimony of Heavenly Father's love for is children and part love story, just so you know from the get-go.
Two years ago this April I was baptized into the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. For those who don't recognize that name, I became Mormon. I met and became quick friends with a gal right away and a few months later she introduced me to her brother at a dance. After that, he returned to his base out of state (I live in Alaska) and in 2006 he was deployed to Iraq. During this time I had graduated from high school gone through my first year of college and was desperately trying to get out of Alaska and get into school in Utah. I applied to three schools and was rejected by two. The third was the acceptance I'd been hoping for but then came the news that they had recently closed down the department for my major (American Sign Language.) At this point I decided that Heavenly Father must have a good reason for me not to go to Utah and so I applied for another year at our state university. Meanwhile, somewhere in Iraq, Jay (my friends brother) was going into his second month of deployment. While driving a humvee for his unit he ran over a hidden bomb. By the grace of God he was the only one injured in his vehicle despite the massive damage done to it. He was brought back to the U.S. where he was attached to a unit out Maryland and admitted to a hospital. Once he had recovered enough to travel he came to Alaska to spend his leave with his family. He started coming back to church in early 2007.
Now, we had not seen each other or spoken since the previous summer. I couln't for the life of me place a name to that quiet, good looking man with the cane up in the front pew. It didn't help when I met him the first time we were at a costume dance and he was wearing lots of makeup! We spoke briefly in passing over the coming months and then, one day in July he came up and started to honestly talk to me. We spoke for almost an hour before being interupted by someone. We fell for each other almost immediately. Our first date was eleven and a half hours long. We took a trip down to a little town south of where we live and just spent the entire day talking and getting to know each other. Pretty soon we were an "official" couple. Over the time that we have dated he has had to spend a lot of time flying back to the east coast for surgery and other things for the Marines. But we were blessed to be able to talk every day he was gone and when he is home we are inseperable.
His last trip home he surprised me by coming home for Christmas. His family and I went to meet him at the airport and as he approached me he asked if I would close my eyes. I did and when I opened them he was on his knee in front of everyone at the airport! Of course I said yes!
We have a little less than eight months before the wedding and I'm enjoying every minute of being an engaged lady :) The reason I wanted to post this was because of the tremendous amount of blessings the two of us have received. Had I been accepted to one of those schools and left for college or had he not been blown up and gotten leave from his base to come see family we never would have met. Heavenly Father had been preparing for us to meet and when we did it felt like we had always been meant for each other. Our relationship has not been without its ups and downs, but each moment we have together is another blessing from God. I am so thankful for the man that I am to call husband and I look forward to being his wife. No, Jay doesn't particularly like the fact that he got injured, but when people ask if he could go back and change it he always says no, because it might mean that he and I wouldn't have met. Would I change where I went to school? No, for the same reasons Jay had for his answer.
There is so much heartache involved in the war that is raging now. But there is hope. I guess that might be part of what I wanted to convey with this. There is hope in even the bleakest of moments. Good can come out of bad. I just thank Heavenly Father every day that He blessed me with one of the bright, happy moments and I leave you with my testimony of the love of our Father in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.
Basic Intro to Apologetics:
Atheism:
Brief intro to atheism and issues relating.
Consists of 45 essays relating to atheism (as of Dec 07) including discussion of morals, logic, cosmology, etc.
Richard Dawkins:
Richard Dawkins – Zeitgeist Weltanschauung
Sam Harris:
Sam Harris – Myth Buster or Myth Maker? (Blogger version)
Sam Harris—Myth Buster or Myth Maker? (Squidoo Version)
Dan Barker:
The Freedom From Religion Foundation’s very own Dan Barkers many claims and fallacies examined here.
New Testament Apocrypha:
Regarding the Gospel of Judas (Blogger version)
Regarding the Gospel of Judas (Squidoo Version)
Archaeology Documentary:
“The Lost Tomb of Jesus” (Blogger version)
“The Lost Tomb of Jesus” (Squidoo Version)
The Da Vinci Code:
Thank God for The Da Vinci Code!!! (Blogger version)
Thank God for The Da Vinci Code!!! (Squidoo Version)
Discusses the book/movie and includes a section of the Salman Rushdie incident and comments by Richard Dawkins.
Roman Catholicism:
Roman Catholicism's Doctrine of Eucharist
Roman Catholicism's Doctrine of Purgatory
LDS Church:
Mormonism – The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saint
Islam:
New Religions:
This religion, which derives from Islam, believes that its founder was the return to earth of Jesus Christ. According to them the second coming took place in the late 1800s.
Contains 51 essays (as of Dec 07) on the various apologetics topics including theology, aberrant Christian groups, inspiration, discernment, logic, hermeneutics, misc.
For Fun:
I wrote this just for fun about living in the state that many people think is a foreign country.
Books:
Many books for sale at frugal prices.
T-Shirts:
My t-shirt designs.
Can you see me yet? Can you feel me taking shape in these entries, starting to become something recognizable, something human, like an old neighbor that you vaguely remember or the lyrics to a song that you can't quite remember the rhyme to?
I don't live in an apartment complex. I live in a prison. With walls and bars made of the shadow filled blinds and I am trapped within these walls, slavery to its orange peel and linoleum. I told my mom today that I've started smoking. She quietly said, "I'm beyond disappointed" and hung up on me. I'm beginning to wonder why I told her at all. Did I feel I owed it to her to tell her myself? Or is it that I know that she's at the brink of something deep and ominous, possibly suicide, and I simply just want to push her over the edge? I'm a terrible human being. What you are reading right now is written by a terrible, horrible person, with no regard for others and only herself.
There are two Josh's in my life. There's Josh Phillips, whom I've known most of my life and there are hundreds of thousands of stories to be told about he and I being raised on the streets and the likes... but those will come later. And then there is Joshua Tobler, who I have known longer than Josh Phillips, and married him when I was five or six. He is my husband. Josh Phillips will from now on be referred to as Josh and Joshua Tobler will be referred to as Joshy. Believe me, as this progresses, they will each develop into the distinctly different personalities that they are, and you will be able to soon distinguish them without needing a name at all.
Josh calls me punk as fuck. He loves to throw his arm around my shoulders as I'm huddled quiet in a corner or leaning up against the wall at Combo's or when he's introducing me to someone new, and say in his rough, grainy voice with that slightly creepy grin of his, "This girl? This girl right here? She's punk as fuck." And it's not just a statement. There is a huge amount of emphasis on the 'fuck'. "Punk as FUCK." More emphasis on the f than the rest of the entire sentence, so that the rest of the word is like an explosion. I've never understood what that meant, but I've never questioned him about it.
Josh, I have a lot of respect for Josh. Josh and I met in the second grade when we were playing skunk tag (some excuse for children to run around wildly and get all that energy out) in the Larsen Elementary gym where he and I each went to school. The thing about the gym we were playing in, is that it's in the shape of Utah state, but on it's side. So there's a corner in the gym. I came around one corner and he came around the other at the same time and we ran at full speed into each other in a collision of energy, bone, flesh, and shock. We were each literally ricocheted backwards from each other for a good ten feet onto our rears were we sat shocked. The bottom of my eye socket had hit the top of his at full second grader running force. He had a slight cut above his eye, whereas I had a gash deep enough that you could see my cheekbone being exposed. It was terribly deep. The thing about Josh though, is that he has diabetes. Every student and teacher in the entire gym rushed to his side, asking about medications and trying to see what needed to happen as he was the 'sick child'. He kept pushing them away and even kicked one of the teachers in the shin because he couldn't feel the pain and could see me quickly passing out as I realized I was bleeding and no one was helping me. I, obviously, passed out.
I don't remember much of that day. My mother at the time was the general manager of the Arby's in south Orem and this had happened around lunch time so when my school called the business, it took a few tries to begin with. What was worse? One of the employees hadn't completely shut the door to the fryer when they added more oil so during lunch rush of one of the busiest fast food franchises in south Orem, there was 20 gallons of oil on the floor. When they finally got her on the phone, my school told my mother, "We'd like you to come down to your daughter's school please."
My very irate and frustrated (justifiably so) mother: "Well what the hell for?"
"Your daughter has... a small cut."
"Can't you just put a bandaid on it? I'll sign whatever forms you need later!"
"We... really think you should come take a look at it."
Angrily, my mother told them she'd be there as soon as she could.
I remember laying in the nurse's room and slipping in and out of consciousness on that bed. I remember waking up and reaching up to my face and feeling a wet rag and lifting it up and realizing despite it's color, it didn't start out red, and it didn't start out soaked. That was typically about the time I passed back out. Three hours later I remember my mother walking in and saying, "Her face! Her beautiful face!" and her screaming at the secretary "A small cut? My daughter's face has been split in half!" while I gazed dazedly at the white thing protruding from the bloody gash in my face in the reflection of my principal's window that I would later discover was my cheekbone.
I had 37 stitches; I can't remember how many Josh had. Significantly less. 8 I think. The next day at school we found each other and under many pain drugs, we introduced ourselves and told everyone else who hadn't been there that we had been in a knife fight with a couple of kids from a different school and not to mess with either of us because you should have seen the other guys. It kept some people off of our backs for a little while, which was really the best thing for us.
Josh... Josh is a real punk. Josh doesn't give a fuck what people think about him but you know, if you give him the time of day, he's one of the deepest people I know and someone that I consider as more than my best friend, he's my brother. Blood brother even, if you want to count that incident in second grade.
There's a sunset out my window and I wish desperately I could capture it and keep it and wear it in a small marble on a chain around my neck to keep me constantly warm. It's getting cool here, and it's only going to get colder. That's what happens in Utah during the fall. It gets cold, and then it gets colder, and then it gets even colder. Then it becomes winter and the process continues. Like a frozen tundra in the midwest. That's where I live. That's where I've lived for almost my entire life.
I wonder what it's going to be like to die? I'm really not afraid. I'm more excited to embrace it. I don't want to fight what might be the best, and what's more, the last experience I may ever have.
I used to shoplift from the Albertson's in Spanish Fork. I lived in a duplex, the ones on 6th north, just to the right of Albertson's. There's a couple of them that face each other with just a lawn between them. There was a girl who lived right across the lawn from me in the upstairs duplex named Holly Helton. The Helton home is really, I suppose, where I felt most comfortable. My mother was always pushing me to be something great, something magnificent, when she really had no idea what I did at nights. Really, our relationship has never changed. She's still pushing me, and she really has no idea what I accomplish just daily. The Helton home always smelled like ciggerettes and there was always alcohol being passed around the adults, but when I came home with a good grade from a spelling test and my mom would tell me, "Keep it up," Owana (Holly's mom) would kiss the top of my head with her big toothy grin and fix me chicken nuggets and fries; a special meal at the Helton home. DJ was Holly's dad, and he would pat me on the back and ask me to spell things for him whenever I did it and when I would question myself and ask, "Is that right?" he'd start laughing his wheezy laugh that made you think his lungs were cracking but it was always full and rich and he'd say, "How the fuck should I know? That's why I was asking you!"
Holly and I used to go to the Albertson's and steal things like silly putty, gum, lighters, bouncy balls. Nothing big, but it ate me up for years afterwards and eventually I sent Albertson's a letter of apology with 40$ cash in the envelope; more than enough to make up for what we took.
I haven't shoplifted since. It just isn't right. You should always earn what you get, no matter what.
That's something Josh and my mother taught me, each in completely different ways.
I miss the Heltons. They moved when I was ten or eleven, and we lost complete track with them. It breaks my heart. I kind of had a thing for Holly for a little while.
But not nearly as much as I had a thing for Natalie.
Before I begin going into my love life, I should preface it with some essential information. I've known I was gay since I was eight years old. I was raised in the LDS church from birth, a church that preaches against homosexuality, saying "Love the sinner, not the sin," but still preaching that it was a terrible and horrendous and depending on who was speaking, sometimes an unforgivable sin. When I realized I was gay, I began to hate myself. I began to live in constant fear of who I was, and who I was becoming. I became suicidal all over again, (I'll explain my first bout with suicidal thoughts later) and at the tender and precious age of eight, began to hate everything I was. I used to claw at my skin at nights and would wake up with scratches despite me always biting my nails down to little more than nubs. I tried even harder to become the best disciple a little LDS girl could be. I prayed for God to take away my feelings, and if he couldn't do that, to kill me so I wouldn't act upon them. I read the scriptures, trying desperately to divine why God gave people these feelings, if I was sick, had others before had these feelings and how did they get rid of them? Instead I found Sodom and Gommorah, a terrifying tale of a city destroyed for it's homosexual residents (or at least, that is the common interpretation, despite there being many MANY other factors into it). I was even more frightened, and began to hate myself even more until every waking moment of my life was covered by a veil of constant loathing and self-discrimination. I wouldn't let myself play with other children if I had those feelings. I wouldn't let myself eat because I had seen a girl and felt those feelings again. At times I even refused to bathe myself so as to physically manifest the filth that was inside of me for the world to see
Of course, I didn't do any of it with those reasons in mind; I was eight years old. I've realized these things over years of counseling and over a decade of self analyzing and study. I did these things; not bathing myself, not eating, etc. completely subconsciously, without ever realizing why I couldn't eat that day, just that I couldn't. I didn't tell my mother. I didn't tell my bishop. I was too afraid to even write about it. But I was horrendously enamored with my best friend Natalie.
Natalie Hortin was, and still is, the first love of my life. Even after all of the hell she put me through, and the shame she made me feel, and the way she treated me, if she were to walk back into my life tomorrow and say, "Alisa, I think I might have feelings for you." I'd fall for her all over again. It's disgusting, I know, but I already told you: I'm a terrible person.
I am the epitome of filth in this world, and if you plan on continuing to read this, you had better learn to stomach it because this is just the tip of the ice burg.
Natalie... I can't even think about her without getting nostalgic and dreamy eyed. She had the most beautiful strawberry blonde hair I had ever seen, and it was long too. With green eyes that liked to go gray when she was upset, or emerald when she was ecstatic, she had pale skin with freckles all over, and thing slits for eyes; but not in the creepy glaring way nor in the natural Asian way. Her eyes were slits like she was constantly laughing. Can you blame me for falling in love with her? She was beautiful. The way her lips pouted out, soft and pink and lined, and the way she would wear those jeans that hugged her hips and those shirts that barely covered her stomach... I was entranced. She was intoxicating, everything I could and would never have. She had this scent that made me want to follow her everywhere, and I knew when she was around because I could smell her. It smelled like... musk, mixed in with the sweetness that the Ocean air has. Her jaw line was soft and her nose was small and would come to a cute, smooth round finish at the tip of her profile.
Listen to me, I'm still in love with her. I was in love with her at eight years old and I'm in love with her now at eighteen, a decade later. She grew up to be a beautiful young woman, who, really, in the end, squandered most of what she had. I don't know where she is now, though I literally would give just about anything and everything to find out before I die.
Natalie lived in North Orem, in this huge house with her father and her little brother, and they had the most gourgous home that I can remember. I used to go over as often as I could, and often times, would spend the night in her basement. I remember that first night... rolling over in the middle of the night because I couldn't sleep and my eight year old self propping herself up on my bony elbow (I was a skinny child though you wouldn't know it by looking at me) and watching her sleep. I loved watching how peaceful she was and I remember wanting to reach out and touch her cheek and then kiss her... and then I remember going cold, solid, because I realized I was in love with my best friend. Who was female. Just like I was.
There are epiphanies and then there are disasters. Both will give you lots of information, things like, "We did this right, but we did this wrong and we should do this in the future," but one of them have the ability to devastate everything that one human being has ever held near and dear and to be fact.
That was my first real disaster. I would have many many others after that but for tonight, I have to finish my laundry and probably interact with my roommates. They keep looking at me like wounded animals, like I beat them or abuse them because I don't say, "Hi" when I walk through the door or don't make meals with them.
And they think I'm a freak.
Wow! I feel a bit odd that my friends have written more about my baptism than I have.
The day of my baptism really was one of the worst I've had in a while. I had rehearsal all day (8am to 6pm) and it really drained me. For the past week I've been forgetting to do things and having to ask people what is was they wanted me to do again. Saturday was almost the breaking point so that by the time I left rehearsal and headed on my way to the church I was a nervous wreck. I remained that way until I changed and then all of the sudden a great calm came over me. All the feelings and emotions that had been fighting me for the past hour were gone. We held the program for a bit to wait for some people who were coming from a wedding reception and then got started. We sang and listened to a speaker and then it was time for the baptism itself. So much of it is so personal and I will keep it to myself, but it was truly the most amazing and defining moment of my life to date. And the fact that I had two of the most beloved people in my life there for me, holding my hands and walking along this path with me is just beyond words. You know, I can't count the number of times I've said, "beyond words" or something like that. But I don't know how else to put it. It just is.
My life didn't begin with this church. And even once I had discovered it, it wasn't part of my life. I have spent many years searching for the truth and so many times I stumbled upon it, stared it in the face and then turned my back on it. There was a time when I had admitted to knowing the church was true and only months later I had allowed myself to be blinded by peers and openly spoke out against it. I regret every word I ever said and it pains me to think that there was a time in my life when I was so close-minded and cruel.
My life didn't begin with this church, but I know that my life on earth will end with it.
I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
These things I testify in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.
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