Yes I am a Liberal Mormon - I Just Didn't Know There Was a Name For It

Meridian Magazine published a post from Joni Hilton that created such a commotion that it caused Meridian to take it down. I wish I could share that article with you but copywrite laws prevent me from doing so and I don't want lawyers breathing on me. I think it's better that you read it for yourself instead of my spin on it, but it can't be done.

So I will say this. Hilton wrote a horrible article that made a lot of presumptions about people with nothing to back it up.

I could write a post about everything that is so wrong about her article and pick it apart piece by piece, which I may do just so people can read it . Mainly she created two versions of Mormons, "The Good Mormon Camp" and the "Everybody that Doesn't Think Like Joni Hilton Bad Mormon Camp." But that isn't really the purpose of this post.

Frankly those of us who are "Liberal Mormons" hear this stuff all the time. Joni hasn't said anything new. We hear it in church conference. We hear it in sacrament meeting. We hear it in our classes at church. We read it in the Ensign. We hear it from other church members. What Joni said is the safe way to go at church and among church members.

Except it's not so safe on the internet. Because guess what? A lot of those liberal Mormons go to church  and do their callings and are in disguise as Good Mormons and don't say what they really think at church or even in their homes when their home/visiting teachers come but have no problems expressing quite different opinions on the internet.

So it must have been a shock to poor Joni to discover that she wasn't surrounded by high fives and hugs.

Meridian was faced with a difficult choice. They don't want to alienate their readers. Yet this is exactly what this article has done. They don't want to send their writer to the stocks to have tomatoes thrown at her. As a writer I appreciate a publishing company (however they publish) standing by their writers. I wouldn't want Meridian to abandon her. That seems unfair and not very Christ like. So they took her article down and then wrote another one to excuse it and assure everyone that we should love each other.

"You're Not a Member In Good Standing If..." by Maurine Proctor

Which caused another round of criticism because Proctor said that readers misunderstood Hilton.

Readers didn't misunderstand Hilton.

Other than that, Proctor wrote an article that was positive.

Frankly I think that Hilton's article should have stayed up. Along with all worthwhile comments (comments that attack the article and not Hilton, and are articulate).

I think that Proctor's article which speaks of loving each other, should not have referenced Hilton's or tried to make apologies.

I think Hilton should either be given the opportunity to fight for her stance, or apologize as she sees fit in the same place where she made her original statement.

Because you see, even though I don't agree or like what Hilton said, I believe in her right to say it. I want that. I want to be able to say what I think without having insults hurled at me, or be called names or be accused of who knows what. I want to be able to have constructive conversations - yes even with those who disagree with me. And because I want that for me, I want that for Hilton too.

I am currently at a state where I want to reclaim my spirituality. For me that means that I find God in my own way, and I recognize that others who disagree with me spiritually are not spiritually bereft, but are on their own spiritual paths. I believe that He tells each of us different things because we are each different. Are there absolutes? Absolutely. Jesus stated those absolutes in two commandments that encompass all others. But there is room for each of us to find our own way.

For some people it is following closely a church and what the leaders say and not questioning anything. Sometimes I wish I could be like that. It seems so much easier. I do not condemn others who choose to live that way. Life is hard. If it makes it easier for them, if it keeps them close to God, then who am I to say it's wrong?

But He gave me a questioning mind. And no matter how hard I tried to follow the path of least resistance, it didn't work out for me.

I am also choosing not to be offended by this article. Do I find it offensive? Yep. I understand why others are offended. But in this instance, I really don't care what Hilton thinks of me as a Mormon because I'm on my own spiritual journey and she has no idea what that means for me. I do not condemn her. Her experiences are hers, and mine are mine and she has come to her own conclusions and I have come to mine.

Instead I offer sympathy for her. Not in a "I feel sorry for you" way because that's a feeling of superiority and I don't feel that. I feel sympathy as a fellow writer. I can imagine what it would be like to write something you feel passionate about, something you feel will help others, something that you think will be received positively and instead you get slapped in the face, and in the head, and in the heart. I can imagine her shock, her hurt and her embarrassment.

And so I extend my hand to Joni, not because I agree with her, I don't. But because that's what we do when we love Christ. We extend our hand of love to those who are different from us. Joni, you are welcome to express an opinion on any one of my blogs - not that I expect you'll ever see this.

PS. I have found other blog posts that have reacted to this subject. I will link them here as I find them.

Dear Sister Hilton
I'm Joni Hilton's Computer
A Response to Joni Hilton's "Are You a Liberal Mormon"
Why Yes, I Am a Liberal Mormon
See the Bandwagon, See Ardis Jump on the Bandwagon

Things I Wish That I Had Told You

Today I saw you sitting in your van while a man stood on the outside screaming obscenities at you. When I stopped to help you told me you were fine and he was your husband and you thanked me but said you didn't want me to call the police when I offered.

I knew you weren't fine. Your eyes, and your mouth, and your entire face told me something different from what your tongue said.

I told you to drive away, but I realized later that you probably couldn't because the repercussions later might be worse.

So I drove away, and I went to the police.

Here's what I wish I could have done and said.

I wish that I could have got out of my car and opened your door and held you.
I wish that I could have convinced you to drive to my house where you would have been safe.
I wish that I could have kicked his butt all the way down the street and through the park and into the lake.

I wish that I had told you

• that you are beautiful and you deserved better than what he was giving you.
• that even though you love him and that he is probably your whole world, he doesn`t love you,     because if he did, he wouldn`t treat you that way.
• that all of the nasty things he calls you, is not about you. It's about him. If he calls you stupid, it's because he knows that he is stupid and that you're not and that drives him crazy, so he tells you that so you will feel worse than he does. If he calls you ugly, it's because he knows you have more beauty than he can hope for. If he puts down your dreams, your ideas, your desires, it's because he thinks so small and he is afraid that you will become greater than he is.
• that just because he doesn't love you, does not mean that you are not loveable. It means that he is not capable of loving someone.
• that being alone is not terrible. It is better than being with someone who is your enemy.
• that being with this guy means that you will never find someone who will love you. 
• that even though you may never find someone else, you can still love yourself.
• that staying with him means that you will start to hate yourself, hate who you've become, hate the fact that you let your dreams die.
• that he may apologize later, and you may make up, but it will only happen again, and again, and again.
• that there are other women out there who understand exactly where you're at because they've been there too.
• that you may not see yourself as an abused woman, because that happens to other women, not you, but you are. And that it doesn't always have to be that way.
• that you are abused not because you are weak, or stupid, but because someone has taken advantage of all the good things in you. Your ability to love unconditionally, to forgive, to see the good in people, to see the potential in others, to sacrifice, to be unselfish.
• that the most unselfish thing you can do for others, is to take care of yourself first
• that just because he's not hitting you, does not mean he is not hurting you. Words destroy too.
• that if you have children, you have a responsibility to them to not raise them to be like him, or to be with someone like him and the only way to do that, is to remove the bad example.
• that he has issues that are too big for you to solve, and even if you could, you are too close to the situation because you have become his trigger.
• that he does not take responsibility for his behavior. Did you notice when he turned on me for trying to help you and called me nasty names? They were the names that he should have directed at himself.
• that you deserve better and only you can claim it

You haunt me now, because I couldn't do more. Because I didn't know what to do at the time. I pray that you are safe and that soon you will realize, that life is too short for crap like this.

The Young Women Survey

I found this really interesting.

The Young Women Survey Results

As explained, this was not done officially by the church but by members within the church.

None of it surprises me although I'm sure it will surprise a good number of members.

Some really interesting results.

76% said that they were taught that their main objective was to marry in the temple yet only 58.5% said they were taught that their main objective was to have a testimony of the Savior and a relationship with Heavenly Father. Related to that, 48.9 % were taught that their value is dependent on marrying in the temple and that 53.2 % felt their value was dependent on finding a temple worthy husband.

97.1% were taught that they are a daughter of Heavenly Father (which is good and I know this is a real focus and theme of YW), however only 19.6 were taught that they are a daughter of Heavenly Mother and 48.5% felt that Heavenly Mother should never be spoken about.

47% believed that the consequences of sexual sin is that they are less value as a person. (Note, sexual sin within the church is more than just having sex outside of marriage. Even thinking about sex is viewed as sexual sin although admittedly on a lesser scale).

68% say that men and women do not have an equal say in what happens at church and 79.1 % say that men have the final say.

79.3% were taught that polygamy happened because there were more women than men and almost half were taught that polygamy was their eternal destiny.

54.9% were taught that sex outside of marriage is as bad as murder.  (This is so sad. No wonder why she feels of less value when she commits this sin. I mean, you might as well commit murder once you've crossed the sexual sin line by this way of thinking.)

55.4% do not feel equal to men.

Like I said. I don't find these results surprising. However, I do find them sad. What are we teaching our young women?

Journal of Discourses: Vol 1.1 Salvation

I'm going to attempt to read the Journal of Discourses. This is not scripture. It's a series of sermons and speeches given by latter day prophets in the LDS church.

It tends to be controversial. So I'm going to try and do a balanced look at different things in it. Not everything, there's too much. Critics use the Journal of Discourses to prove Mormonism wrong. Certainly there are things that make us go "huh?" So the church's answer is that it's not scripture. I can accept that prophets are human and say stupid things. I can also believe that sometimes they say inspired things. It's our job to figure out what to accept and what to reject.

The first one was called "Salvation" and it was a sermon given by Brigham Young delivered in the Tabernacle in Salt Lake City on January 16 1853.

To be honest, I'm not a fan of BY. And he was certainly a man of his time when he writes
"the fair-skinned Christian, and the dark-skinned savage". You would think that a prophet would know better, but he didn't. We have to remember when we see things like that, that this was the American way of thinking up until the last couple of decades. All In the Family, a show in the 70's was so popular because it showed the ridiculousness of this thinking that was so prevalent at the time. 

But I didn't want to write about that. It's this gem that I wanted to comment on.

There is another thing, brethren, which I wish you to keep constantly before your minds, that is with regard to your travels in life. You have read, in the Scriptures, that the children of men will be judged according to their works, whether they be good or bad. If a man's days be filled up with good works, he will be rewarded accordingly. On the other hand, if his days be filled up with evil actions, he will receive according to those acts. This proves that we are in a state of exaltation, it proves that we can add to our knowledge, wisdom, and strength, and that we can add power to every attribute that God has given us. When will the people realize that this is the period of time in which they should commence to lay the foundation of their exaltation for time and eternity, that this is the time to conceive, and bring forth from the heart fruit to the honor and glory of God, as Jesus did—grow as he did from the child, become perfect, and be prepared to be raised to salvation? You will find that this probation is the place to increase upon every little we receive, for the Lord gives line upon line to the children of men. When He reveals the plan of salvation, then is the time to fill up our days with good works. 

Let us fill up our days with usefulness, do good to each other, and cease from all evil. Let every evil person forsake his wickedness. If he be wicked in his words, or in his dealings, let him forsake those practices, and pursue a course of righteousness. Let every man and woman do this, and peace and joy will be the result.

There are those that believe that it isn't good works that gets us saved. And to some extent that is correct. It is Jesus who saves us. Without Him, no one would be.

However, there is no point in claiming to be a follower of Christ, and then not follow Christ. It is more than just saying "I believe." We can't do evil and claim that we follow righteousness. The free gift that He gave to all, was not salvation. It was eternal life. We all get to live forever whether we want to or not. Salvation on the other hand is offered  but we need to accept it. And it's no good accepting it and then throwing it in a closet. It's like getting a guitar for Christmas and then never learning how to use it. You won't learn to play the guitar by merely having one.

BY's statement gives us tremendous power to accept Christ's offer and honor it.

It isn't important where we are on the path when Christ comes to get us. What is important is that we're on the right path, facing the right direction, and trying to get home.

To read the full sermon you can go here. Brigham Young: Salvation.

Facebook: Family First Weddings

Sometimes when I share a story on FB I end up embroiled in controversy. I end up in a debate, which annoys people because they don't want to see fighting on Facebook. Sometimes I've had people message me privately to tell me what they think because they don't feel safe to post on FB.

So I thought I would try posting some of the Facebook links here on my blog. If it's controversial I want it here so people can be free to comment, and comment at length if they choose. I don't need to have people agree with me. But I do want to take the fight off of Facebook. If they're interested enough, they can follow me here.

I will be posting some Facebook things just because I want to comment on it. But for some, like this one, I would like to just post it so people have a space to speak.

I will allow comments as long as they are respectful and don't use foul language.

So, here's the first controversy. By the way, I am in support of this and at some point I will make a comment either in this post or another one, why I am in support of people being able to ask the first presidency for changes.

Family First Weddings

I will also be calling this my Facebook Series, and you can see all the posts in the series on the sidebar, so you can comment at any time.

Learning to Not Be Tolerant

A couple of weeks ago I gave a talk in church. That was a risky thing to ask me to do since no one ever knows what I might say but perhaps they have no idea how much of an apostate I am. Okay, not really. I just find it funny that we like to throw that word around whenever someone in the church says something that doesn’t agree with what the latest leaders say.

They asked me because it was my turn. What other church has the congregation give the sermons? I think it’s great. We all have the opportunity to speak, and if once every few years isn’t enough, we have the opportunity once a month to stand up and bear our testimony in whatever way we want. No one has control over this. It’s great.  Testimony meeting is sometimes exciting because you never know what people will say. For the most part, people tow the line and say the required words, but I’m going off on a tangent. Back to what I want to write about.

I was given the topic of the 11^th Article of Faith which is actually quite a nice one – they all are by the way. 

 11 We claim the privilege of worshiping Almighty God according to the dictates of our own conscience and allow all men the same privilege, let them worship how, where, or what they may.

It’s a great standard. It’s too bad the world doesn’t follow this. It would be so much better if they did.

I was going to write my talk and then post it here but as it turns out, I never actually wrote a talk. I just quoted some scriptures, told some stories and gave a brief history lesson on Martin Luther, which was really the only part of the talk that I wrote. To look at my notes you would see "tell story about Narnia" (referencing my stint as the White Witch in a play), or "tell about grandfather" (which is a big long story that I don't want to get into right now. Basically it was "here's a scripture, this is what I think."

I just wasn’t in the mood to write anything, and I worried that I would fall into preaching. I didn’t want to preach. It’s not my place. So I asked the Lord to help me out and say what He wanted me to say, and not what I wanted.

I hope that’s what happened. I can’t say one way or the other if it was. I can say that I received several positive comments about my talk, but again, that could have been politeness. It’s expected when you see someone who has given the talk to say “great talk”. And you can’t tell by applause if you’ve done well, because we Mormons don’t applaud in the chapel. I guess it's felt that applause takes away from the spirit. I tend to agree. Trouble is, we never know when we can applaud at church. But I'm going off on a tangent again.

What I do want to mention in this post, is one idea that I came away with that I hadn’t thought about before giving this talk. Perhaps that is the kernel that comes from the Lord. I don’t know.

I spoke mostly about the love of Jesus, and I mentioned the world Tolerance.

It’s a word that we use a lot. We look at it as a positive word. It’s a pat on the back word. “I’m tolerant of my neighbor.”

But it seems to me what it really means is “I’m right and you’re wrong, but I’ll put up with you anyway.”

It’s filled with pride, self-righteousness and lacks understanding of the other person or their ideas.

When did Jesus teach that?

If instead of telling our children “I love you,” we said to them “I tolerate you,” what kind of message does that send them?

I don’t recall anywhere in the scriptures that we are to be “tolerant.” We are to love. We are to be compassionate. We are to help and serve. We are to try to understand. We are to live together.

But tolerant?

Now tolerance is certainly better than being hateful, and given the choice, by all means let’s choose tolerance, but we can do so much better than that. We can try and be like Jesus.

That doesn’t mean we should embrace everything that comes along nor agree with everything.

But we can disagree with our fellow man and still show love and compassion and try and understand.

In fact it seems to me that tolerance is showing allowance for serious hurtful sin that damages another, which should never be tolerated.

And it isn’t just outside of the church that we should love and accept those who are different from us, but inside the church as well. Are we calling those who we disagree with, who don’t toe the line, who don’t blindly follow everything that is being said, an apostate? Is that loving?

Perhaps we’re not, but instead we are being tolerant. We are looking down on them and saying “I’m right and you’re wrong, but I’ll tolerate you and you’re weird and completely wrong ideas, and I will continue to tolerate you even though you’re an apostate and I am filled with love and compassion because I am so much better.”

I too am guilty of tolerance, but I’m trying to do better.

The Polygamy Issue Part 2: The Scriptures

To read The Polygamy Issue Part 1 you can go here.

I am frequently admonished by members when I say that I don’t believe that polygamy is correct that “I should read my scriptures.”

It’s an arrogant statement. It insinuates that they have read their scriptures but I haven’t read mine and therefore they know more than I do. Perhaps they do. I could be completely wrong. But it isn't because I haven't read the scriptures.

In 2012 I made a goal to read all my scriptures straight through. I read the Old Testament, the New

Testament, the Book of Mormon, the Doctrine & Covenants and the Pearl of Great Price. I also read the Relief Society Book, "Daughters In My Kingdom" that was published that year, and the Relief Society and Priesthood manual for that year. I accomplished this in that year.

While reading I was looking for specific instances where the Lord commands the people to practice polygamy.

Except for the one scripture in the D&C 132, I didn’t find one instance where the Lord commanded people to enter into polygamy. 

But what about Abraham, and David, and Jacob?

There is no record of the Lord commanding them to practice it, except in D&C 132 which you can read for yourself here.

For most people in the church, that one scripture is enough. After all, it's scripture.

There's a lot in that one scripture, not just plural marriage, but other things that are basic beliefs that hit close to home with the Saints. Some things sound wonderful, others are down right scary.

I have some problems with this scripture and I will explain that in another post after I've dealt with some of the other issues I will be posting about.

I want to deal with this subject as honestly as I can, and as scripturally as I can.

What I did find in the scriptures is a lot of examples of how plural marriage doesn't work. And a lot of scriptures that command monogamy. And some scriptures where the Lord condemns polygamy. In order to follow D&C 132 (the plural marriage part) you would have to ignore all those other scriptures.

The Polygamy Issue Part 1: The Introduction

For Mormons, polygamy or plural marriage as the church prefers to call it,  is a sensitive topic. 

It is part of our history. It was often called The Principal, most likely because the word polygamy was undesirable. There are members who don’t know that Joseph Smith practiced it although he was the one who implemented it. It’s right in the Doctrine & Covenants so I don’t know how they don’t know. I guess it’s the “don’t ask what you don’t want to know” mentality, which I understand. I put the subject of polygamy on the back shelf for years because I didn’t know how to deal with it and the subject made me feel bad.

There are some who deny that he did practice it, although that fact hasn’t been hidden by the church. It’s just been downplayed a lot, but it has not been hidden and many church manuals touch on this subject.

The recently published church manual, "Daughters in My Kingdom: The History and Work of Relief Society" has a section on plural marriage. Click on the following link and scroll down to "Defending the Practice of Plural Marriage". For more information on what the church says you can go to

the lds.org website and enter "plural marriage" in the search box.

No, the church doesn't deny it, but they try not to talk about it too much. It's an uncomfortable subject.

 

There are some that will say that because we don’t practice it now, it isn’t something to concern ourselves with.

And others will admit to having problems with the concept but would be willing to live it if it became part of the church again.

And then there are those who would willingly embrace it and wish we lived it now. I know someone like this, and surprisingly it’s not a man.

For me it’s a subject that has long bothered me. It has always felt incorrect. It has always felt evil. It has always felt like the wrong path. I have come to the conclusion about why it feels wrong. It's because it is wrong.

We are instructed in the church to follow our feelings of the spirit, and this screams loudly that it’s wrong.

But it isn’t just my feelings that tell me this. The scriptures and logic do as well.

I had initially written a blog post that turned into a way overlong essay. So instead I`ll be posting on this subject in pieces.

I am aware that there will be those who will see me as an apostate - a word often freely thrown around and used towards anyone who doesn`t agree with every tenant of the church. There will be those who might accuse me of trying to tear the church down, which is far from the truth. I am trying to find ways to stay within the church. I have no desire to tear down something that I believe is inherently good. I have no interest in becoming an anti-Mormon and filling my heart with hate towards Mormons instead of love towards my fellow man.  But I wonder about those members who have the same struggles and are afraid to say anything. I have no power to change things. It is not my call. All I`m trying to do is express a viewpoint, the viewpoint that I love Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. For those who question my devoutness you can read my page post "Why I Choose to Be a Mormon". 

I find it interesting that often the same people that have no problem with plural marriage, do see adultery as a serious sin. So much so that we are counseled to not be alone with a married member of the opposite sex. I'll talk about my thoughts on that in another post.

I have chosen not to announce these particular posts on Facebook or other social media. If people are interested they will find me. I do not desire to make anyone uncomfortable or cause a firestorm.

Chasing Rainbows

This post was written several years ago (some of my circumstances have changed since then) and was originally published at Segullah as a guest post. It also won me a scholarship at Red Deer College. I republish it here, just because. P.S. My kids still do remember when we went chasing rainbows.


The day started at 6:30 when my alarm went off and music blasted me awake – or semi-awake. Rain drizzled outside the window. I rolled over in the large bed. I learned in the years since my divorce that being a single parent had its benefits, like enough room to sleep anyway I pleased, no one snoring in my ear, and the covers being mine, all mine. But there was no one to share in the misery of getting up so early in the morning, and no one to ask if they could please deal with the morning war this time.

I lay there for a while convincing myself to get out of bed – it took a lot of convincing – then I got up and looked outside at the thin grey veil of wet stuff. I much preferred one of those fine storms where thunder crashes and lightening flashes, the kind that had woken me up a few nights earlier with earth shattering booms that made me think that the end was near and we would all soon die. That night I’d watched the spectacular light show out my window, listening to the thunder that never seemed to stop. The angels tap-danced, went bowling, had laser battles and water fights, and played loud music until all hours of the morning. Trouble is, you can’t call the police when those neighbours have their wild parties. (Not that you would really want to since the show is so much fun to watch. Besides, they clean up after themselves.)

Today’s weather in no way resembled a party—more like a cranky kid with a runny nose. The rain came in spurts and drizzled, with the sun trying desperately to show its face, only to be chased away by bouts of temper. It was a day that shouldn’t have even got out of bed, but did so just to make everyone miserable. And everyone knew that causing misery around here was my job. I turned from the window and headed toward my bedroom door. Ow! Stubbed my toe. Double Ow! Bit my lip because I stubbed my toe. Now I was in the perfect mood to do my job. I headed down the hall and started making the rounds to the four children who still live at home.


Time to get up!

It’s genetic: they hate getting out of bed as much as I do. I circulated through the bedrooms every five minutes, turning off and on lights, repeating myself, holding glasses of water over their heads, and warning them that if they’re late and I have to drive them, I will walk into class with them wearing my pajamas and say hello to all their friends.

This gets them out of bed.

I would like my mornings to have the peaceful and loving organization of June Cleaver and Carol Brady, but I don’t have pearls or an Alice. Instead I have a battlefield. As we gather in the kitchen for breakfast, I brace myself by laying my forehead on the table. The attack begins.

“I need $15.00 to go on a field trip.”

“Where’s the paper work?”

“I left it at school. Just give me the money.”

“Show me the permission slip and I’ll give you the money.”

“But I needed it yesterday. It’s overdue now.”

“You can’t go to school in your pajamas.”

“You can’t go to school in that shirt. You’ve worn it three days in a row now.”

“You can’t go to school in those pants. They have holes in the knees and they’re dirty.”

“These are my favorite pants. I’m not wearing any other pants.”

“Mom, can you make pancakes?”

“I don’t want pancakes. I want poached eggs on an English muffin.”

“I don’t want breakfast.”

“Here’s bologna for your sandwiches.”

 “I don’t want bologna. I hate bologna. I want cheese.”

 “I don’t have cheese. How about peanut butter? It’s quick, easy, nutritious, economical, and I always have it.” I hold up a peanut butter jar and smile like Annette Funicello in the old Skippy peanut butter commercials.

“I’m not allowed peanut butter. There are people in my class who will die if they even smell peanut butter. Do you want some kid to die just because we don’t have cheese?”

“I can’t find socks."

“I can’t find shoes.”

“The dog ate my homework.”

“We don’t have a dog.”

“Okay, someone ate my homework!”

“Mom, can you make cookies for the bake sale today?”

“Mom, sign my homework.”

“Mom, here’s my hot lunch order. I need money. Today.”

“I need my bathing suit.”

“I need my skates.”

“I need something for show and tell. Can I take the dog?”

“We don’t have a dog.”

“Well, that would be a good reason to get one. Can I take the TV instead?”

By the time they left, I was ready to go back to bed. And I tried to but the phone wouldn’t let me. Neither would the doorbell. Or the kid that came back because he forgot his lunch, his bathing suit, and his people-eaten homework.     

With half-closed eyes, I cleaned up the spilled milk, and swept the Cheerios from the floor. I took the damp laundry from two days ago and put it in the dryer and threw another load in the washer hoping no one left crayons in a pocket. (I dare not go through pockets. It’s too scary.) I checked the classifieds for a clerical job only to find ads for scams. The phone rang again; my mother needs me to take her grocery shopping. Then more calls come, one about visiting some people in need, and another request that I fill in for a Sunday School class. I realized that the only reason people call me is because they want something from me. The phone rang yet again and it’s the school requesting that I come and get my son out from underneath a table. Yep, it’s time to get dressed.

When I’m asked what it’s like to be a single mother, I reply that it’s like being a married mother: I cook and clean, referee and console, discipline, hug and scream and pretend that I know what I’m doing. The big difference is that I don’t have someone to talk to about problems that arise. There’s no one to hold my hand when I need reassurance and no shoulder to cry on when I’m sad, overwhelmed or frustrated. When the car breaks down in the middle of traffic, a child doesn’t come home when they’re supposed to, an unexpected bill arises or the washing machine won’t wash clothes anymore, I’m the one who has to fix it somehow. I can comfort others when friends turn on them or nightmares plague them, but when I have nightmares and friends turn away, I am alone.

Initially it was a relief to be out of my impossibly difficult marriage. And it still is. But in spite of my motto of faith, hope and humor, occasionally I get an overwhelming urge to imagine all the worst things that could happen. My big worry that particular day was how to bring in the extra income my family needs. And if I can’t get a job now, where will I be in ten years when I can’t get a job then? Living in my van down by the river? Or pushing a shopping cart with all my worldly things as I wander from dumpster to dumpster, inviting my grandchildren to visit me in my cardboard box while we dine from the scraps we can find from the back of restaurants? 

After returning from the school emergency, I sat at my computer and looked at my resume. Several dozen copies had made their way to various businesses over the past several weeks, and although I have a degree in office administration, a good telephone voice and experience as a writer and a public speaker, so far no one was biting. Recently I’d send out another story to a magazine, another synopsis of my latest book to an agent, another query to a newspaper, but even though I have one published book and five years as a humor columnist, there are no takers. I feel like those deluded kids on American Idol who can’t carry a note yet are convinced that they’re the next Whitney/Mariah/Celine sensation.

Clicking on the local college’s website, I wonder if I should go back to school. But then I wonder how I would pay for it, and if I take out loans how will I pay them back if I still can’t get a job because in four years when I’m holding my degree, who’s going to hire an overweight fifty-year-old when they can have a supermodel twenty or thirty-year-old. I’m grateful that there’s church welfare, but I already feel like a parasite.

I found Sundays difficult and depressing after I got divorced. I understand why many go Latter-Day-Saints go inactive after their marriage breaks up. There can be great judgement and very little understanding about ending a sacred covenant and some Priesthood leaders make devastating decisions using unrighteous dominion.

And sometimes I felt unconnected from the rest of the congregation, in fact the rest of my community – like everyone had a secret that I didn’t know. I recalled one Sunday as I came to church in my old van with the broken windshield, the heater that didn"t work properly and the finicky right signal light, I couldn’t help but look around at all the new and nearly new vehicles and suddenly I felt like the little kid who lives in the big beautiful mansion where everyone has a gorgeous suite, but I have the little space under the stairs. It wasn’t that I desired a new vehicle; I was just tired of being the have-not in the world of haves, in more ways than one.

Yet it’s not all bad and there are some aspects of singledom that I enjoy. Relief Society sisters are kind to me, perhaps out of gratitude that my life isn’t theirs. I don’t have to account to anyone for money spent, or decisions made or why the dishes haven’t been done in two days. There is peace that I never experienced within my marriage — a peace that is worth the nights alone — a peace I would never trade away just to be with “someone, anyone” although deep in my heart I would like to have a special someone. In spite of my limited resources the bills are paid, I’m not in the welfare system, and my face is still relatively free of wrinkles, although there is that troubling one showing up between my eyes due, I know, to stress. In fact I know the incident that caused it, and the child that was responsible, and the reason why I don’t trust people outside of my family.

I turn on a light hoping to alleviate the grey day and the lack of sunshine coming through the windows. Faith, hope, humor, faith hope, humor, I repeat to myself over and over again. But today the mantra taunts me with FAILURE! FAILURE! FAILURE! Self-doubt envelops me. What am I teaching my kids? Do they understand that I believe in marriage even though I’m divorced? That I know it’s hard when, no matter where you are, you miss someone? That I would love to take them to London and Paris or even just away for weekend, but I can’t?

When the kids come home from school, the shoes get thrown throughout the entry instead of on the shoe rack, the coats are on the floor, the backpacks are tossed with papers flying about and the bodies lie in front of the TV.

“There’s never anything to eat around here,” someone complains.

“I just went grocery shopping,” I reply.

“Oranges and eggs aren’t anything to eat.”

“What’s for dinner?” my teenager asks.

“I don’t know. What are you making?” I answer.

“What? Why do I have to make it?”

“Because I’m not going with you on your mission, or off to college with you and I’m certainly not going to live with you when you get married. So you need to learn how to cook.”

Eye rolling ensues. Nobody moves. I wonder what I’m going to make for dinner, how to get everyone to clean up after themselves, and if I should start charging these people rent.

Is this what they’ll remember of me – poor, struggling, alone, nagging, and quickly losing my sense of humor, my adventurous spirit and my spontaneity? Do I have to be the bad guy all the time?

“Mom! Come see this,” my teenage son called later that evening.

“Not right now, I’m busy toting that barge and lifting that bale.”

“You HAVE to come look now! Hurry!”

I reluctantly followed my son’s voice to my bedroom. What was it now? Did someone draw pictures on my walls? Was there sugar in my bed? Was there a flood in my bathroom? Did my son make another smoking concoction that could blow up at any moment?

My youngest stood on my bed. She had pulled up the blinds. “Look outside Mommy!”

I looked out the window and down to the ground. I didn’t see anything unusual. The brief rainstorm had stopped but there was no sign of damage. The yard could use some cleaning. I sighed, knowing the cries of protest that would occur when I announced that we’re doing yard work as a family.

“What’s so exciting?” I asked, bewildered.

“Look up, Mom,” my son said.

The rainbow stretched from one end right to the other. It’s rare to see an entire rainbow, especially one with such brilliant colors.

I gasp at it’s beauty and wonder at the extraordinary feeling of knowing I had seen rainbows many times before, but still feel like it’s the first time.

“Oh, it’s so beautiful!” my daughter squealed.

“It’s a double rainbow,” my son said. “You can see a faded one just above it.”

We stood there together, gazing at the promise, the sun beaming down and turning raindrops into diamonds. The bow was so close, it seemed I could reach out my hand to touch it. Its brilliant colors stretched across the sky, one end landing in a distant place to the south. We could see the other end just off to the hills, not far away.

“Let’s go to the end of it!” my teenager said.

I hesitated. We were in the middle of a cleaning project. Dirty dishes filled the sink. I hadn’t prepared dinner yet, and it was getting late. But suddenly visions of dancing in the rainbow’s light came to my mind. I imagined us climbing the arc and sliding down the other side. I know it wasn’t possible to actually slide down a rainbow, but maybe—just maybe—dancing in its light was. And I knew in that instant, that I had an opportunity to make a memory for my children. Not a Disneyland memory, but a memory all the same.

 “All right,” I said.

We piled into the car and I followed the rainbow, knowing that it was further than it looked, yet inexplicably drawn to it.

“Are we getting closer yet? It doesn’t look like it.”

“Man, I thought it would be up that road. I guess it isn’t.”

I turned up another road, further along than I had expected.

“Look, it’s still over there. We’re not even close.”

“Is there a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow?”

“Yeah, there’s leprechauns too.”

And then suddenly, the road turned, and we all gazed at it, stunned.

“Wow!” the children sighed in unison.

It was right in front of us, just out of reach. Not only did it still shine brilliantly but there was another, paler version of it, in the sky. We could see the end, just up the next hill, in front of some bushes.

As we followed the rainbow, it’s reflection shone off the wet road and I knew we were traveling in its light.

Up the next hill we went, only to see the rainbow still farther in front of us, and to our disappointment, the end of the rainbow has faded. The rainbow itself was still there, but the end no longer touched the ground, and the brilliant hues were fading.

There would be no dancing in its colors that day.

“Do you even know where we are, Mom?” my son asked from the backseat as I turned the car around.

On the way home the rainbow faded to nothingness behind us. We watched a pink and purple sunset, and saw dragons in the clouds.

When we pulled into the driveway, we had no pots of gold to carry into the house. We had no stories of meeting leprechauns or even the thrill of dancing in a rainbow’s colors. What we did have were several hungry stomachs and a messy house.

But we also had the memory of the day that we dropped everything and went chasing rainbows.

I gazed at my children’s faces as they chattered about the adventure. Peace filled me as I realized that in spite of lack of money and hot tempers, I could always give them memories: sucking helium in a small room of the church while we decorated for my son’s wedding reception, gathering leaves for the Thanksgiving table, ambushes with Easter basket water pistols, and days spent rehearsing and performing in the latest community play.

By the time dinner and dishes were done, the sun had fallen below the horizon and all signs of the rainbow were now long gone, but the moon peeked through the clouds and the grey day had turned into a pleasantly warm evening.

The gold isn’t at the end of the rainbow. It’s right here, in our home. All we have to do is look up.