Enduring to the End

Ever heard of WatersOfMormon.org?

I present to you the newest group blog to hit the Bloggernacle. And thanks to a wonderful invitation from "The Baron," I will be one of the contributors to my first group blog! And even though Waters isn't live yet, I'm already excited for all of the opportunities the experience will bring. So be on the lookout for when we go live, because waters tend to make a splash. Especially when I'm involved.

If you visit Waters before we become official, you'll see the results of experimentation and much pre-launch fiddling. The posts from this stage of Waters may or may not be around after launch, so I won't link. But one of my co-contributors raised three questions that I was really glad to see because of what it suggests about the people I'll be blogging with:

How would you define blogging success?

Is this success measurable?

How will you/we know if we are being successful here?

I thrive when I have direction in my life. I have to have a destination in all of my endeavors, even if I have to create both the destination AND the path to get there. I answered the questions in my typical energetic fashion:

"How would you define blogging success?" Depends on the goals of both the individual and the group. I can't say much about what our group goal is (do we have one?), but I know my personal goal is very much a part of my pseudonym. I care very much about the Church, and I don't like the misconception that you have to be Molly Mormon or Peter Priesthood to be a loyal member. For me, it's all about living by example, and showing people that you can be an independent, intelligent, volatile young woman and be just as important as everyone else. My blogging success is when my posts illustrate how to be the person I've committed to being-- the unification and nurturing of my best self. But of course, that's just me.

"Is this success measurable?" Yes, and by the same means that I know that God is real, that Christ lives, and that the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is the true church of this dispensation-- I feel it inside.

"How will you/we know if we are being successful here?" I didn't discuss possible group goals in the first question's response because I thought it would best be put here.We need direction to our blog if we're going to be any different from the other group blogs already out there. To us, it shouldn't just be circulating the same questions that the Bloggernacle seems to adore to no end. We need to set ourselves apart to something beyond that. This may just be the zeal talking, but I really think we should strive to be the place where faithful Saints can go when they get tired of the more contentious posts in other places.I saw that the quote underneath the Waters of Mormon banner at the top of the homepage, and it made me think about the ideal self. THAT, I think, should be our focus. And I've always looked at the ideal self as the unification of three things: Love of self, Love of others, and Love of God. To me, unsuccessful living only manifests when there is an imbalance between the three things. All in all, I think this focus would set us apart. I mean really; do we want to be another face in the Bloggernacle, or do we want to be different in a positive way? Just some thoughts to chew on:)

For me, my mission in blogging has and always will be to leave circumstances and people in better condition than I found them. My let's-change-the-world attitude is something that I treasure about myself because of all that I have and will accomplish because of it. But we all have our own missions to fulfill, and respecting those differences in approach was something I feel I should have thought of BEFORE I hit the send button on my comment. I was praised for my enthusiasm, but reminded that differentiating ourselves from the Bloggernacle will happen on its own because of the writers we have on our site; and to create a common goal would probably hinder more than it would help. Instead, we were all encouraged by Waters' creator (The Baron) to cultivate our own individual niches, which is what we should be truly excited about. And, of course, I couldn't agree more. I've been given permission to be the Paradox I have always been; for what more could I ask?

In other news, I have another project to add to my list of things to accomplish. Inspired by my experiences in Church this past Sunday, I'm already excited about what I hope to accomplish. But before I talk about the end result, I need to clue you in on the beginning.

The lesson dealt with the Law of Chastity, a subject that I feel very strongly about. Within two minutes, I knew I wasn't going to leave the room with dry eyes. The youth leader asked why Spencer W. Kimball would call pre-marital sex "an abomination to the Lord." When no one answered, I told the floor, the wall, and the space in between, that our bodies are a temples, and when we treat them so recklessly, we desecrate a holy edifice in a way that can never be taken back.

We had two non-member sisters (one ex-Mormon and one investigator) with us that day, and I really try not to contemplate what must have been going through their minds about me at that moment. And I'm still deciding if it got better or worse from there.

I forget the context for what came from me next, but I promise it exists, and that I didn't just blurt this out; I explained to them that I know from my personal experience what you take upon yourself when you break the law of chastity. I choked on my tears as I told them that the guilt that follows such an egregious sin, even after going through the waters of baptism, is a consequence that cannot be evaded. I said that I truly hoped they would never make such a mistake, and pleaded that they would "be strong in a hard moment." They didn't say anything, and I admit I was glad to fade into the background as I took up my cross again. . .

The youth leader that gave the lesson is a firm believer in quotes, and we leave every week with a sheet of quotes that were used in the lesson. Boyd K. Packer's words resonate with me so much, I'll let him speak for himself:

"I want to council you and I you to remember these words. Do not let anyone at all touch or handle your body, not anyone! Those who tell you otherwise proselyte you to share their guilt. We teach you to maintain your innocence."

As I read this part of the lesson, I looked around at the young women in the room, and I grew concerned. Only one had spoken up other than me, and she asked what to do if the young man in one's life has broken the law of chastity in the past. Not a bad question, but I fear that these young women have missed the point. Maybe their silence is a good sign, indicating that they have nothing for which to be guilty. But I know how easily a charismatic young man can talk themselves into anything they want. If I don't do something to protect my sisters in Zion, how can I claim to have learned anything from my experiences?

I have since learned to guard my body like the temple it is. My virtue may never be virginity again, but I will protect my virtue at all costs, even if I have to fight to do so. I've learned through years of studying the art and science of combat how to defend my body, mind, and spirit. My fellow young women need to know how to do the same. I'm currently working out a plan for a women's self defense seminar to offer the women of my branch. I want them to know that they don't have to settle for an accident in a back seat, wandering hands in a dark theatre, or any other advance that leaves a daughter of God feeling cheap and used at the end of the night. And considering that I live in a an area where the LDS youth are outnumbered, our young women should know how to protect themselves from the advances that may come from where they weren't anticipated.

I've been approached by the youth leaders about doing something like this kind of seminar for my Personal Progress before. And now that I'm actually putting this together, maybe I can help someone to hold their head a little higher, love themselves a little more, and thereby possibly saving her from the sorrow I've experienced.

If I can stop one heart from breaking, I shall not live in vain

I've been reading The Merchant of Venice in search of more parallels between Shakespeare's life and his characters for an independent study I'll be doing when I get back to school. I wanted to spend a good part of the summer working on my project, but I haven't gotten as far as I wanted to. My goal is to write a Shakespearean style play about the Bard's life, based on the connections between his life and his works. I saw a performance of Richard III that gave me the dynamics of Shakespeare's marriage, as well as a look into his self-image. In my mind, I see Shakespeare being a tortured artist, a solitary man that lives through his character and his work. I suspect that Shakespeare, as a character, will only become more complex as I read more of the tragedies. Believe it or not, I'm looking forward to getting underway with my vision.

I'm starting with the Merchant of Venice because I saw a book at Borders titled Shylock is Shakespeare, or something to that effect. I perused it briefly, but I didn't get to study it long enough to get much from it. At least I know to be on the lookout for connections between Shylock (one of my favorite characters,) and the Bard himself.

Shylock isn't the only character I like. I think that many young LDS women can relate to Portia with many of her frustrations in Act 1, Scene 2.

PORTIA. By my troth, Nerissa, my little body is aweary of this great world.

 

NERISSA. You would be, sweet madam, if your miseries were in the same abundance as your good fortunes are; and yet, for aught I see, they are as sick that surfeit with too much as they that starve with nothing. It is no mean happiness, therefore, to be seated in the mean: superfluity come sooner by white hairs, but competency lives longer.

PORTIA. Good sentences, and well pronounced.

NERISSA. They would be better, if well followed.

PORTIA. If to do were as easy as to know what were good to do, chapels had been churches, and poor men's cottages princes' palaces. It is a good divine that follows his own instructions; I can easier teach twenty what were good to be done than to be one of the twenty to follow mine own teaching. The brain may devise laws for the blood, but a hot temper leaps o'er a cold decree; such a hare is madness the youth, to skip o'er the meshes of good counsel the cripple. But this reasoning is not in the fashion to choose me a husband. O me, the word 'choose'! I may neither choose who I would nor refuse who I dislike; so is the will of a living daughter curb'd by the will of a dead father. Is it not hard, Nerissa, that I cannot choose one, nor refuse none?

NERISSA. Your father was ever virtuous, and holy men at their death have good inspirations; therefore the lott'ry that he hath devised in these three chests, of gold, silver, and lead, whereof who chooses his meaning chooses you, will no doubt never be chosen by any rightly but one who you shall rightly love. But what warmth is there in your affection towards any of these princely suitors that are already come?

Needless to say, I like Portia. I can relate to her. My frustration is powerful in that it convinces me that I'm worse off than I am. Obviously, my circumstances have never been so bad as death itself, or I wouldn't still be here; for that I should be grateful, as Nerissa reminds her charge. Nerissa, as a maid, understands what it's like to go without. Being in Portia's company, surrounded by her beautiful possessions and lavish luxery, I'm sure Nerissa thinks to herself, This broad is the most ungrateful wench I've ever seen! Doesn't she know how lucky she is to be sitting in that chair, wearing that beautiful dress, and waiting for me to bring up her succulent lunch? She has no idea what the real world is like!

In my most recent post, my contention was reeled in (slightly) by the memory of the person I used to be. I remembered the churches I've been to where the church was small, and the regard for the youth was even smaller. I needed guidance that I wasn't getting, and I starved spiritually because of it. That period of my life was so empty in comparison to what I have now. I was actually reading Lamentations 1, 2, & 3 today, and the descriptions of Jerusalem absolutely floored me. I colored them and re-read them three and four times to remind myself how far I've come, and how blessed I am to be in Church that cares so much more about young people. And the next time I start thinking about throwing myself from the high wire (see other post) I'll remember where I've been, and all I have to lose.

Easy to say, right? But next comes the real challenge: following through with the millions of things I promise to do in my head every day. Only about 10% of those make it through my many filters to find their way to my actual To-Do list. At the top of that list is my personal mission: leave my surroundings, the people that I meet, and myself in better condition than how I found them. How do you do that? Obeying the commandments! (I find my goals are easier met when they're not as general. *smiles*)

No matter what the goal is specifically, they're all achieved much of the same way: just do it. I'll admit, gets easier with time. But cultivating the desire and developing the discipline to do anything, including obeying the commandments, is not easy. Portia points out what is still true today; that the natural man is not easily overcome. But for Portia's purposes, as well as many women in the Church, the task of overcoming base desires is a necessary endeavor because of the Golden Commitment that she talks about next: Marriage.

I've seen the movie of The Merchant of Venice, so I've seen how Portia's marriage is to be decided. Her father has put three chests in a room: gold, silver, and lead. Portia's suitors must come to the secluded island where she lives, and choose which chest appeals to them most. The chests weed out the unsuitable potential grooms, because only one of them represents Portia, and she is bound to marry the man who chooses right; hence her frustration with "choose."

As Latter-day Saints, we believe in temple marriage; a covenant that is binding for all eternity. Without a temple marriage, we believe that we cannot reach the Celestial Kingdom, the highest degree of glory. For us, there is no, "Until Death do you part." Hence, the pressure is on to get the right guy the first time.

Shakespeare's "lott'ry" is not so random as "pick a chest, any chest." They're designed to protect Portia from men who are only interested in her money or beauty. Temple marriage works similarly in that only men in good standing with the Church can take their brides to the temple. The law of tithing, the law of chastity, the word of wisdom are what determine who is a member in good standing; these commandments are in place to protect us from having to honor a mistake for all eternity. And while we are not bound to marry the first person who can keep all of the commandments, we are required to choose someone at some point in our lives. And that decision leers over your head, even when you know you're too young to think about marriage.

I think about marriage all the time. I think about in which temple I'd like to be sealed (Manti or San Diego,) what my dress will look like (old fashioned will bell sleeves,) where I want to have my reception (wherever my non-member parents won't have to get a flight because they already won't be allowed in for the temple ceremony,) the honeymoon (Italy)... and, of course, the groom. I already feel bad for my future husband, because he has no idea what he's getting himself into. I don't think most LDS men do. They understand the pressure of having to spend their lives getting ready for a mission, true. And I love missionaries, so don't misunderstand the following statement: missions end after two years, but a women's prescribed tasks really don't have an end. Her whole life is guided towards preparing for marriage and homelife; so she plans in her mind the details of the wedding, the groom, the house, the number of children, and what color the drapes are going to be. She then spends the rest of her life trying to make her dream out of whatever she's given, and I wonder (privately) how many women have been disappointed by how their lives actually turn out, at least at first? Like I said, I pity the man who turns out to be my husband because, in all honesty, is there any way to please a daydreamer?

I know, I know. Sounds like a personal problem. LOL.

And sooner than I want to, I'll have Nerissa's question to consider: But what warmth is there in your affection towards any of these princely suitors that are already come? I'm not counting down the days when I'll have to finally settle for the lucky bachelor, the only thing left unplanned. And having to accommodate to the needs of a new male in your life isn't easy. My mom just got re-married in May, so I know the truth of that statement already. For now, I'll have to assume that the requirements of the Lord "will no doubt never be chosen by any rightly but one who you shall rightly love."

Until then, it's back to choosing a temple and Googling modest wedding dresses.

I have a problem. A big one actually. It looks like this:

I know I'm not the first teenager to live this life, and I know I won't be the last. And I'm not complaining as much as I am revealing the truth about my situation in response to false misconceptions about the youth. And you know what? I'm GLAD I was given the circumstances I was dealt. Being born into the Church doesn't look like it's any easier than what I deal with. At the end of the day, those born into the Church usually have their families to turn to, or at least the assurance that time will not sweep them away because they've had years of practice of, at the very least, laying low. But I couldn't imagine going through the same lessons year after year since BEFORE the age of 8. I imagine it would get very old very quickly. My heart goes out to any member that struggles to find any kind of identity among all that repetition. I can only pray that they know how much their Father in Heaven loves them, and that the leaders are doing the best they can with what they know. And I'm all for meeting halfway for now. What I don't like is the prospect of staying at halfway point.

 

 

Having said all of that, it really sets me off when adults in the Church make light of the dedication that the Youth of Zion have for their Church. We tolerate a lot out of the goodness of our hearts, you know. We tolerate the fact that the lessons are boring to some, and yet completely new and foreign to others. We tolerate that every single one of those lessons even begins and ends with same apology! ("I know you already know all this, but. . .") We tolerate the fact that seminary starts at 6 in the morning in some parts of the country. (*cough cough* Here!) We tolerate the fact that the adults in the Church assume that we care so much about our social lives that we couldn't possibly be concerned enough about Church history to own Rough Stone Rolling.

 

 

You're talking to someone who bought Rough Stone Rolling at EFY because it looked interesting, and because I have such a personal connection to the plight of the Prophet Joseph Smith. You're talking to someone that does home seminary with a manual and its redundant questions because 1.) I'm not allowed to go to the seminary at 6 in the morning, and 2.) Deseret Books' shipping of anything better is a catastrophic disappointment to anyone who doesn't live on the west coast. You're talking to someone who was cornered in a discussion about Church history at my public high school, in the middle of a test, by a teacher who knew better. You're talking to someone that bothered to go out of my way to LEARN the Church's history because nobody was teaching it, and I was tired of being one-upped by anti-Mormons all the time; especially because I KNOW this Church is true! You're talking to someone who has basically sacrificed any kind of relationship with my family because of my loyalty to the Church; the hardest sacrifice of all. There's nothing I wouldn't do for my God, and by extension, the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Is it fair, then, that teenagers are so looked down upon. My life is just ONE example of the numberless LDS teens out there that care just as much as I do. Isn't it time we did better than this?

 

I know all of this ME-talk has to be unattractive, but quite frankly, so is everything I'm calling attention to! And we can either sit here and point fingers at each other, wishing that things were different; or we can change them! If the lessons have been in circulation too long, and they're missing both sides of the coin (that is, converts and otherwise,) then re-write them! Certainly there's a better option for seminary than 6 AM! And if this Church is true (which it is,) then why are we so insistent upon tucking all of our rich and powerful history away in shoebox somewhere?! Let's give those anti-Mormons something to talk about! And how about Deseret Books getting their act together and making materials just a little easier to get a hold of. If they're going to be a monopoly (oh sorry, I believe the term is holding company,) why can't they be EFFECTIVE? I don't care who you are; 6 months is too long to wait for scriptures. Case closed.

 

I acquired and finished Stephenie Meyer's newest novel, Eclipse. President Faust passed away a few days ago. I didn't go to church yesterday because I was in Annapolis with a good percentage of my extended family.

What do these three topics have in common? A single word that never meant much to me until I joined the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints: Eternity.

We hear about Eternity on a regular basis in our meetings (keeping an eternal perspective, marriage as an eternal covenant, the temple being our bridge into the eternities), but I wonder if the term becomes any more meaningful from the emphasis we place on it. Even when I'm making statements related to my religion, I can't help but wonder if using the word "forever" means anything coming from me. Teenagers say "forever" about even the most trivial things. Can I help wondering if I'm any different?

But I've had a few opportunities to "be still," as our Prophet Gordon B. Hinckley advises, and to contemplate the layers of meaning that make up the onion of Eternity. I hated romance novels until I read Stephenie Meyer's Twilight series. But her characters are beyond captivating, and her stories reflect gospel principles in ways that are tasteful and appealing to both LDS and non-LDS audiences. When I finish her books, I leave them with a renewed sense of what love is really about. Stephenie made a statement in an interview on Amazon.com that Twilight is about finding true love, New Moon is about losing true love, and Eclipse is about choosing true love. Eclipse reminded me that Eternity isn't just a goal to be reached at the end of this life. Eternity was in full swing before I got here. By actively keeping my world spinning by investing my energy into self improvement, I make choices that are always shaping and changing my world. As Meyer brought her book to a close, she illustrated an important point to me that I had never considered before. The main character, Bella, must choose whether or not she will pursue true love, and it comes with a very high cost. She would have to leave every aspect of her life behind her, including her family and friends. She would never have a normal, American Dream kind of life with the white picket fence, 2 1/2 kids, and a dog. She would have to sacrifice more than she could comprehend or even appreciate, opportunities that she would never know about, all because of one choice. But her choice has to be made, and she has to do make it for herself.

I imagine that Meyer's non-member readers may look at that and think, "How discomforting..." but that's what we, as Latter-day Saints, have to consider with everything we do. Our whole way of life is based upon the concept of Eternity, and making decisions that are permanent even in death. Our words, our deeds, our spouses, our families require a level of responsibility that cannot be taken lightly because they are literally FOREVER. When I think about my life with this perspective, I cannot help but have an increased sense of reverence about why I'm here, what my life's mission is, and getting things right the first time. But at the same time, I worry all the time about making decisions that I could live with forever if I had to. I doubt I'll ever do things perfectly, but I've made an important distinction as a recovering perfectionist: there's a difference between doing something right and doing it perfectly. And I find that the more I understand that distinction, the better off I am inside.

President James E. Faust had his own special place in my heart, even if I didn't have the experience with him that, clearly, others on the Bloggernacle have had. I remember learning more about forgiveness from his General Conference talk than I ever learned on my own. Forgiveness is something that I struggle with when it really matters, and I'm glad I have his talk to help me through it. Maybe with this small piece of his legacy, I can become a better person, and come a little closer to the kind of Eternity I'd like to see for myself and my family. Having leaders like President Faust with such wise counsel reminds me that agency is not supposed to be a daunting curse; it's a gift that, if we could not handle the accompanying responsibility, we would not possess such power. If we follow the instructions and guidance from our leaders, learning all the time to be more virtuous, then eternal glory will not seem so far beyond our reach.

I admit openly that I'm a recovering perfectionist. It's more than just wanting things done right the first time; it's a level of anxiety that has been unhealthy for me at times, but has been a cross I bear (I'm sure) for a purpose. But what if our crosses are too heavy? What if we fail in a hard moment? Even though (and I even dare say, Because) I didn't go to Church yesterday, my testimony of family history work was strengthened. I know I left my family gathering with AT LEAST 50 new names to add to our family tree, not to mention that my normally chaotic family was together in the same room, being civilized, and helping me to do the work that their loved ones have been waiting so long for someone to do. I remember once upon a time, I didn't want to do my family history because of how difficult it seemed. But I've been blessed with the help I prayed for, and the work is being done. And just watching this unity in my family, this miracle unfolding before me, I return to a realization that family history work always seems to bring with it: that Our Father in Heaven believes in second chances because He loves us, and He wants to bless us with eternal life. The tricky part is deserving it.

But what is deserving? I agree that obedience is important, but I learned a long time ago that choosing The Other Option doesn't have to mean Choosing the Wrong. Yesterday, I'm pretty sure I broke a commandment by not going to Church and not taking the sacrament. But by choosing to "eat crabs" (they eat them, I watch) with my family, I further fulfilled a mission that was given to me in my patriarchal blessing, which serves my family on both sides of the veil. Does my choice have consequences? Sure! I find it much harder to go throughout my week when I haven't taken the sacrament on Sunday. But is that what you have to be willing AND able to do sometimes? Absolutely! May not sound right when you say it like that, but the point of this life isn't to make sense. If that were the case, brussell sprouts and Liberace would not exist. The point of this life is to learn about Eternity, and to be able to live our lives in a way that reflects our acceptance of what is expected of us.

And whether that point reaches you through a Young Adult romance novel, the first presidency, or even from playing hooky from Church, is entirely up to you. 

I can't believe I haven't blogged about this yet; and now for the post that is long overdue.

My first experience with Reiki began as many of my martial arts anecdotes do; with me hitting myself with a weapon. This anecdote begins when I hit myself in the head during a weapons class several years ago.

My instructor at the time, Professor Hassan, was teaching the class when he stopped what he was doing to see to my "injury." (It didn't hurt, but I'm guessing he was taking advantage of an opportunity.) He asked me if he could "try something." I consented, and he held his hand above my head. I couldn't really see what he was doing, and I was really puzzled. I didn't know if to ask him about it, or to just sit there, or to close my eyes, or what to do. But then I had this idea that whatever he was doing, I needed to trust him for it to work. Then it felt as if the throbbing ache in my head was being lifted from me, like a thread being pulled from my skull. Then his hands got really warm, even though he wasn't touching me. It felt really nice, even though I was taken aback by the fact that I'd never seen anything like it before.

When it was done, he asked me if I felt better, and I told him that I did, but I'd never seen anything like that before. He explained that he has used Reiki, and that it doesn't work for everyone. I was curious, and I wanted to know more about it.

I got my chance when he brought a Reiki master to our training place to teach us. I hadn't learned much more about it; only that it was a form of energy healing that I had experienced for myself, and I knew I believed in it.

As we waited for Sifu Schlachter to arrive, I was helping to prepare the large training room. Suddenly, I got really hyper. I started running around the place and talking really fast, bouncing around and being really crazy. I couldn't explain it, and I tried to relax. Finally, she arrived. I began to calm down, and the session began.

Reiki is a laying-on-of-hands energy healing. Reiki is not a religion, and claims no deity. The pen-and-paper description of Reiki from the manual that I trained with is the following:

"Rei - refers to universal spiritual wisdom Ki - the vital life force, known as chi in Chinese medicine, prana in Sanskrit, mana in Hawaiian, ruach in Hebrew. As a Reiki practitioner, you simply allow the universal spiritual wisdom and universal vital life force to flow for your own benefit in self-healing or when working with others. You are not directing and controlling the energy or invested in the results. You are simply being with the energy and holding sacred space."

Reiki goes so far beyond words on paper. The night I was attuned to the first level (basic physical healing), I saw and felt so much that cannot be explained to skeptics without losing all credibility as a sane and rational person. I saw an aura, and the energy that I was channeling to cleanse it. (It's purple!) I felt the sticky strands and clouds of negative energy that gathers on all of us any time we experience any kind of physical, emotional, or spiritual harm. I was able to touch fear, doubt, anger, hatred, and pain. I took them from someone else's body and threw them away. The heightened sense of fellowship that I felt with people as a healer was instantaneous. At the time, I was a very worldly individual that was not above using fear to get what I needed from people, when I acknowledged other people at all! The change of heart I experienced blessed me with an understanding of Our Creator and His Son on a level that I wish more people could experience. I have a special testimony of the Holy Ghost, and the love Our Father in Heaven has for us all because of my experiences with Reiki.

After the session was over, Sifu told us that she had sent energy ahead of her to help prepare the training room and the people in it, and asked if anyone had noticed any difference in the atmosphere or the people before she had arrived. Everyone laughed and told her about how hyper I had been before the session began, and she laughed. She told me that I was especially sensitive to be able to have that kind of reaction, and that I should take my time when I perform healings because of how overwhelming it would be for me. I didn't appreciate my sensitivity at first because I viewed it as a weakness and a hindrance. But I've since learned that sensitivity is a blessing, NOT a curse. After my Level One attunement, I was still going to church with my Baptist friend. I introduced her to Reiki, and it was through those discussions that her father (our pastor) found out what I had learned. He was very skeptical. Despite the fact that his mission in India led him to believe otherwise, he did not believe in spiritual gifts, and he saw Reiki practitioners as people that have been misled to open their hearts to Satan. He explained that Reiki was not of God, and that I would be wise to cease all dealings with it. And in all honesty, I knew he was wrong. My confidence in Reiki being a gift from God was undeniable, and it should have been. I wish I could have pointed this scripture out to him all those years ago:

"I am the LORD that healeth thee." Exodus 15:26

Since when does the Adversary heal people? He doesn't work like that. He inflicts harm and devastation, not warmth and kindness that inspires God's children to realize their relationship to others, which inspires them to be better people.

One of the countless things that I love about the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-days Saints is that I don't have to sacrifice my belief in Reiki. I finally took the time to look at the scriptures to search out the answers that I knew I would find.

In Matthew 10, Jesus introduces his twelve apostles, and their mission:

"And when he had called unto him his twelve disciples, he gave them power against unclean spirits, to cast them out, and to heal all manner of sickness and all manner of disease." Matthew 10: 1

The first order of business for Our Savior was to heal those who needed it. We believe, as Latter-day Saints, that the purpose of this life is to become more like Our Father in Heaven and Our Savior. How could anything that meets the number one priority of Our Savior be met with condemnation from Our Father in Heaven?

I've since been attuned to level two, which is deeper emotional healing, and the ability to do distance healing. Distance healing is probably my favorite thing that I've learned so far. In order for it (or any level of Reiki) to work, the healer AND the healed must both be open to the service being performed. I cannot perform a distance healing on any person I wish. If someone doesn't believe in Reiki, it will not work. Permission is essential to the act because Reiki is powered by good intention and love. The second you try to force your help on anyone else, you change your intentions, and the connection is weakened, and you cannot call upon the energy to do anything. Discipline is essential. Let's review: a tool that heals, establishes a connection through faith, is powered by love, and influenced by agency. Sounds like something Heavenly Father would come up with to me.

But I do meet some hesitation from a few of my fellow Saints sometimes about Reiki. I've brought a few of my experiences up in Young Women's before, and it clearly made the advisers uncomfortable, as do a lot of my thoughts that come from my martial arts training (i.e. serving yourself does NOT have to be a sin.) I understand their concern (and suspicions) that Reiki usurps the power that, according to their understanding, is reserved only for the Priesthood. But this scripture from 3 Nephi sums up my reaction to that belief quite nicely:

6 Yea, wo unto him that shall deny the revelations of the Lord, and that shall say the Lord no longer worketh by revelation, or by prophecy, or by gifts, or by tongues, or by healings, or by the power of the Holy Ghost! 3 Ne. 29: 6

To deny the power of Reiki would deny the healing that has been performed in my life time and time again by Heavenly Father, which is something I will not do. Being the caretakers of the restored gospel does not give us the undeniable authority to discredit anything that doesn't fit into the traditional Mormon perspective. To do so would not only be pretentious, but hazardous to our growth as Saints and as individuals; not to mention allow us to dismiss a tool that is all over the scriptures, if not by name. (Check out the Topical Guide entry for Healing some time.)

We believe the Doctrine and Covenants to be inspired scripture. Section 46 has been special to me for quite some time:

19 And again, to some it is given to have faith to be healed;

20 And to others it is given to have faith to heal. D&C 46: 19-20

Without going into details, these two scriptures read like a piece of my Patriarchal Blessing. Imagine the pleasure I felt when I had that reassurance from my Heavenly Father for what I had known all along: that even though Reiki would come under fire from so many people around me, the power by which it works is unmistakable.

And just in case there's any doubt, see Article of Faith 7:

"We believe in the gift of tongues, prophecy, revelation, visions, healing, interpretation of tongues, and so forth." A of F 1: 7

You want a quote from a Prophet? There it is, from the pen of the Prophet Joseph Smith himself.

What I hope to accomplish with this post, and with my experiences with Reiki that I will no doubt continue to share, is that the people I meet will understand that just because something is different does not make it wrong. And I would hope that any and all of the Lord's servants would look to the Pharisees of our time, even when they're of our Church, and do what the Savior did. Remember the lesson about healing on the Sabbath?

I pray that we will not be afraid to do what we know is right; even if it costs us some measure of orthodoxy. I've always hated orthodoxy, because it comes across to me as us telling Him what He will and will not do.

"Hester's nature showed itself warm and rich; a well-sprung of human tenderness, unfailing to every real demand, and inexhaustible by the largest. Her breast, with its badge of shame, was but the softer pillow for the head that needed one. She was self-ordained a Sister of Mercy; or, we may rather say, the world's heavy hand had so ordained her, when neither the world nor she looked forward to this result. The letter was the symbol of her calling. Such helpfulness was found in her, --so much power to do, and power to sympathize, --that many people refused to interpret the scarlet A by its original signification. They said that it meant Able; so strong was Hester Prynne, with a woman's strength." The Scarlet Letter, Nathaniel Hawthorne

What I find interesting about the above is both the symbol shift AND what I know about the author. Hawthorne is a descendant of a magistrate from the Salem Witch Trials, John Hathorne. Hathorne's legacy brought shame and condemnation to his posterity that even Hawthorne (his grandson) allowed himself to inherit, which is evident in the themes and conflicts of his books.

Redemption has been on my mind quite a bit as of late in light of Harry Potter, both because of the book's contents and because of the memories it has brought forth. Shakespeare's timeless question echoes to the reaches of my current state as I consider, "What's in a name?"

And she said unto them, Call me not Naomi, call me Mara: for the Almighty hath dealt very bitterly with me.

The scriptures are full of examples of names, and how they reflect the individual they identify. Naomi is such an individual who forsakes her birth name because she felt she had fallen from grace, and no longer deserved to be defined as "Pleasant."

Another example comes from 2 Samuel 11 about Bath-Sheba, whose name means, "Daughter of the Covenant." How does she live up to her namesake?

3 And David sent and enquired after the woman. And one said, Is not this Bath-Sheba, the daughter of Eliam, the wife of Uriah the Hittite?

4 And David sent messengers, and took her; and she came in unto him, and he lay
with her; for she was purified from her uncleanness: and she returned unto her house.

5 And the woman conceived, and sent and told David, and said, I am with child.

Names and the stories behind them are really interesting to me because of the trials that have come along with the name that I inherited. My last name, it turns out, isn't tied to heartbreak exclusively from my father being an abusive alcoholic. My last name has meant "Dark/Evil foreigner" in Irish Gaelic since about the end of the 7th century. It came to pass that a bunch of vikings thought it would be a marvelous idea to invade Ireland, burn and pillage the monasteries, and wreak ten kinds of havoc all over Creation. That's a a great story to tell the grandchildren, right?

My first name didn't appear any better to me for the longest time. As I would search for character names for my stories and poetry, I would sometimes question my own name, and how well it fit me. In my mind, I didn't have an interesting name. I had a best friend growing up whose name was Guinevere, and I adored that her name had a story. Even children with Biblical names, although common, have the ability to look to the stories behind their names, and to find some measure of direction, or a lesson, or even just a sign that their parents put effort into what would identify them for the rest of their lives. And I know I only feel that way because I found out from my father that I was named after some blonde actress from the 80's. Plus, my name is also a flower, which was really detestable when I went through my stage of rabid feminism.

But I came to appreciate my name when I learned the lesson behind it. My first name actually has a legend, which I will paraphrase in order to keep from using my name in the description.

Long ago, the daughter of a poet fell in love with a brave warrior. He left to find fame and fortune, and would marry his beloved upon his return. But the poet's daughter was in a field with her father when a messenger brought her terrible news: her love had been killed in a fierce battle. With his last dying breath, he had whispered her name and pledged his undying love to her, while clutching his final gift: a small purple flower. After hearing tragic news, the woman ran to a nearby field, her gift in hand, until she was surrounded in the same purple blossoms. Her tears turned them white, and she wished that the new flowers would bring good fortune and protection to all of those fortunate enough to find them.

After hearing that story, I appreciated my name for the first time in the 17 years that I've had it. By nature, I'm very protective, and the details of the legend were so closely intertwined with my life that I wondered if my parents were really the ones who named me after all.

And as for my last name, I take comfort in the lesson I learned from The Scarlet Letter months ago that I haven't soon forgotten. If Hester Prynne can take a scarlet punishment that causes everyone to view her as filthy and unclean, surely I can take my name and bear it also. Surely I can use the agency, which has been my greatest gift, and associate my own life, my mission, my virtuous and upright nature with this legacy I've inherited. I may not be able to unwrite the stories of those who came before me. But my name, my story, will be my own; without the shame and disappointments of my forefathers.

"What's in a name?"

That's for you to decide.

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows stands out to me; as my new favorite of the series, and as an excellent close on a series that has grown as I have grown, even in terms of existential questioning.

(WARNING: Spoilers ahead for those who have not yet read Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. If you do not want the ending and other significant details spoiled for you, then read no further. You've been warned.)

I remember joking with a freshman in my Physics class about how funny it would be if J.K. Rowling ended the series with some kind of religious appeal. He laughed and replied with a comment to the effect of, "That would be so weird. Why would she do that?"

Imagine my surprise when Christian undertones began to manifest repeatedly throughout the text. The church in Godric's Hollow, the Biblical references on the gravestones of Kendra & Ariana Dumbledore (Matthew 6:21) and Lily & James Potter (1 Corinthians 15: 26), the motif of the word "savior," and even the dialogue of Ron in the epilogue where he advises his daughter to "Thank God" that she inherited her mother's intellect. But these smaller instances of religious rhetoric affirm that J.K. Rowling's allegory to the New Testament was intentional.

The allegory manifests first with Dumbledore as a representation of Heavenly Father, a hypothesis that has existed in the other books since Chamber of Secrets. However, as Harry learns more about Dumbledore's personal life, and his plan for defeating Voldemort, Harry begins to ask questions that reflect core questions that all of us have probably asked our Father in Heaven at some point. This passage from the chapter "The Wandmaker" is a reflection of these questions:

 

"The Dumbledore in Harry's head smiled, surveying Harry over the tips of his fingers, pressed together as if in prayer.

You gave Ron the Deluminator. You understood him. . . . You gave him a way back. . . .

And you understood Wormtail too. . . . You knew there was a bit of regret there, somewhere. . . .

And if you knew them . . . What did you know about me, Dumbledore?

Am I meant to know, but not to seek? Did you know how hard I'd find that? Is that why you made it this difficult? So I'd have time to work that out?"

Dumbledore then proves to be quite a conniving character; planning for the greater good to be fulfilled at any and all costs, which may be how Heavenly Father appears sometimes, and how Dumbledore appears to one very confused Harry Potter as he learns more and more of what the purpose of his life is to be. Much like Jesus Christ might have felt, no? It actually should appear that way, because Harry Potter is a Christ figure. The evidence is both clear and plentiful:

• Harry's nature parallels Christ-like qualities

1. Forgives all men and creatures (Kreacher & Griphook)
2. Refuses to kill (won't use Avanda Kedavra)
3. Merciful to Voldemort in the end by telling him that remorse will save his life

• Harry's actions mirror events from Christ's life

1. Initial fight with Voldemort in the Forbidden Forest = Jesus suffering in the garden of Gethsemane
2. Harry's willing sacrifice of his own life to save his friends = the Crucifixion
3. Harry's return to life to finish the work he started = Christ's resurrection

Even Snape finds his place within the suggested allegory as a representation of Judas. Harry chooses to trust Dumbledore's judgement about Snape, despite how horrible his betrayal seemed to be. Like Judas betrayal in Heavenly Father's plan, Snape's betrayal had it's place in Heavenly Father's plan: both resulted in a means of conquering Evil (Satan & Voldemort)

I'm sure many readers out there, like the freshman from my Physics class, did not see such a religious appeal coming from J.K. Rowling, and may even resent her for it. But such an appeal is not without a purpose. The main character, from a literary perspective, is the one the reader should be identifying with. Harry Potter is the main character, which means he is the source of the moral J.K. Rowling is communicating. When your main character is a Christ figure, that makes for a tall order of your audience, but is also very inspiring at the same time. Harry conquered Voldemort through decency and mercy, which allows the reader to aspire to be a better person; to find the Christ within us all. At the very least, Harry as Christ has the potential to inspire hope for Rowling's audience, the children that will finish Deathly Hallows and think, "If Harry Potter can forgive Voldemort, then maybe there's hope for my redemption."

I grew up with Harry Potter. I remembering being in fourth grade, and our Language Arts teacher reading Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone aloud to us. Ever since then, I've had a deeper love for reading and stories. And much like Harry at that time, I had no idea what lay ahead of me. Now that I've reached the end of the Harry Potter series, I am at the point where I will soon close the book on my youth. However, the magic of my life has only begun, and I greet the years ahead with open arms for the adventures I know I will soon have. If there's anything I've learned from the Harry Potter books, it's to make your life extraordinary.

With my pen in hand and a prayer in my heart, that's exactly what I intend to do.

(P.S. I couldn't resist. *Giggles* Enjoy!)