Church Members as Ambassadors

President George Albert Smith noted that as the Church becomes more well known, “its members are esteemed for their virtues,” and critics “are quickly divested of their unjustified prejudices, by coming in direct contact with the Latter-day Saints in their daily lives. … They then judge us by our fruits, from personal observation, and such information, as they impart it, can have but one effect, and that most favorable to us.”¹

Smith observed that actually knowing members of our church dispels prejudice about the church. People who know us drop their misconceptions and instead judge us by our fruits—what we actually do.  This seems logical to me but I question Smith’s assertion that knowing a Mormon “can have but one effect.”  Depending on which Mormon you know, and how that particular Mormon behaves, you might draw different conclusions about the church. Sometimes, we Mormons, like anyone else, can be guilty of producing sour fruit.

When irritation begins to perk it’s ears at my emotional state, often one of the first questions I’ll hear from a particular friend is “Are you PMS-ing?”

No, actually, I am not.  And, now my irritation is harder to ignore because you want to invalidate my feelings by chalking them up to hormones.

(Wait maybe I am PMS-ing, because now that comment is really getting to me, and now I feel guilty for directing my irritation at you… SPIRAL!)

As a feminist, the real crux is physiology and how that should/does affect our behaviors

Note: I found little in this that inspired me in regard to the history of women. However, after some patience and work, I found a practical application that I could feel confident in sharing. In recognition that this message was difficult for me, feel free to generously share your own thoughts about the message and this post.

The February Visiting Teaching message is by Silvia Allred, first counselor in the General Relief Society Presidency. When I first read it, it reminded me of two of her recent talks, Every Woman Needs Relief Society and Steadfast and Immovable. I personally did not find either of these talks very inspirational because both seemed focused on a woman’s role of nurturing within a family unit, while the single and infertile are assigned to the periphery with the standard nod: “some of our sisters have not yet received the blessings of marriage or children. I assure you that in due time you will receive all the blessings promised to the faithful.”[1]

In this sense, this can be a difficult message to deliver. Even the most righteous and diligent mother has days where she is overwhelmed. So the reminder that “the faithful” will receive blessings can be isolating and even hurtful if thoughtlessly lobbed on the exhausted mother, the single sister, the divorcee, the lonely, etc.

“I’ll sit with you.”

In essence, that’s all you have to do. That’s all you need to say.

Sometimes we encounter a friend, ward member, or family member who is in so much pain, we feel like the right words are completely lost. Most of the time it’s because we have no experience in what they’re going through. How then can we be of comfort to them? We want them to feel better, but it seems we’re destined to say the wrong thing. Yet we feel obligated to respond. So what can be done?

My baby has been sick with a rare form of infant seizures categorized as a “catastrophic epilepsy” due to its urgency and impact on physical and cognitive development.* We don’t know the cause, but we do know that compared to other babies with his seizure type, he’s been very lucky. Despite a delayed diagnosis (and wading through multiple misdiagnoses), the frequent potentially brain-damaging seizures abated quickly, and we have resources to work toward a normal development. But despite this good news, I’ve been a total wreck. First, there was the struggle to even get an EEG and convince the doctors that it wasn’t mere acid reflux. Then there was the period of researching the rare disorder, and facing the terrifying statistics for outcomes. After that, I found an online community of moms who have infants with the same disorder, and found out that each baby’s case is unique. And now things have slowed a bit, as the most major devastating causes have been ruled out, and we let the treatment take effect.

by Corktree

Corktree is an emerging feminist struggling to find peace as she seeks truth.  She has three strong headed daughters, an infant son and a patiently supportive husband.   Aside from her family, she is passionate about science and natural health practices and hopes to merge those with her feminist vision by going into practice as a midwife when her children are all in school.

I’m sure we’ve all had experiences where we either needed to know something or needed to tell.  For legitimate reasons.  But then, there are also times where the need to know and the need to share can be misplaced or misused or misinterpreted.  Is there truly a difference?  How do we know?

For example; I recently attended a book group.  The collection of women is from before my previous ward split and I don’t see half of them on a regular basis anymore.  And in this group is a woman that I am used to feeling concern for.  I used to be her visiting teacher.  We’ll call her Sister A.