Fight or Flight?

What do you do if you have been taught to avoid contention, but also to defend something in which you passionately believe?  My beloved church, or more specifically its doctrine of male-only ordination, has come under fire.

This is nothing new.  We have experienced everything from violent persecution to mild curiosity, since the beginning.  But this time it's from within.  Members ..... faithful members are "agitating" as they say, for change.  They say it's time for women to be ordained.

I wrote about my feelings on the ordination of women in this post.  Until recently, I had no idea other faithful members of my religion believed differently.  I guess I was wrong.

For clarity, it helps to differentiate between policies or practices, and doctrine.  Policies and practices can be and often are, influenced by societal customs and traditions.  What we wear to church, who speaks or prays in our meetings, or how some church funds are spent, for example, are policies which sometimes shift and evolve over time.  Circumstances change.   Whereas, our belief in the Godhead, repentance, the Atonement, ordinances .... are all doctrine, and unchanging .... at least in this lifetime.  And for reasons unknown, God organized his church with different roles for men and women.  Men are ordained to the priesthood, and women are not.

The ordination of women would be a major change.  It would be a first.  There are hints in the scriptures and in our church history, that some women may have been given some priesthood responsibilities outside the temples in the past.  But we believe in living prophets, and our current prophet supports his predecessors who all taught that men only are ordained.  To change this would take much consideration, prayer, and an absolute confirmation from God.  In other words, it would take revelation.  As far as I know, that revelation has not happened.

So back to my original question ..... what do you do when you are in opposition with fellow Latter-day Saints who publicly campaign, organize, and recruit others to pray, ask, push, and pressure our church leaders to take it to the Lord?  Do you stand up for your belief that they are out of line, and possibly cause hurt feelings, contention, resentment, and let the media feed on disunity in the Mormon Church?   Or keep the peace and look the other way? Do you defend the doctrine and risk losing the person?  Or keep quiet and remain friends?

The answer, of course, is to defend and explain with love and patience.  But when the disagreement is online ..... it's tough.   No matter how soft-spoken your words may be intended, you cannot  control their perception.

So that's the dilemma.  I believe that these people, who are actively and publicly pushing for female ordination, have over-stepped their bounds.  That's my personal opinion.  This is the Lord's church and a change of this magnitude must come from him.  They have created a forum and an audience for people who are actively fighting against our church.  Feelings are running high.  We will lose members over this.  We will lose families over this.  And with those families, generations of God's precious children will be lost to gospel blessings.  And in those homes ...... there will be no priesthood at all.

Why do they do this??

You never know when inspiration for another post will hit, and this one zinged right out of the blue.  

I was preparing a lesson for a church class and decided to include a story about my great, great grandfather, Allen Joseph Stout.  A snapshot of his life is in green, in case you're wondering.  (The rest of my post continues below.)

He lived in the 1800's, and had it rough.  Really rough.  He was only nine when his mother died leaving eight young children who were then shuffled here and there.  Allen and his siblings endured some not-so-pleasant environments.  He also dealt with poor health most of his life.  As an adult, he learned of the newly organized church called the Mormons, and after some months of study, decided to be baptized.  He wrote about restored health immediately upon rising out of the baptismal water,  and was able to serve a brief mission.  

He returned to Nauvoo, Illinois, then the head-quarters for the Church, because he heard that its founder and leader, Joseph Smith, was in danger.  Allen served for a while as Joseph's bodyguard.  He wrote of an interesting experience when he and Joseph were out walking and saw a stranger a short distance down the road.  Joseph told him to wait there and he went on ahead to talk to the stranger.  After a while, Joseph returned, but Allen was upset at himself for letting Joseph go off without his protection.  Joseph reassured him that he was safe.  He said the stranger was John the Revelator, who was blessed by Jesus to remain on the earth until the Second Coming.  (John 21:23)

Joseph eventually was murdered when he was supposed to be in the protective custody of the law.   Allen later went west with the Mormon Saints and was then sent by Brigham Young, the new church leader, to help settle southern Utah, an area nicknamed "Dixie" for its hot and dry weather.  If you study the history of those poor, bedraggled people who first settled what is now the thriving city of St. George, Utah, among them you will find my ancestors.  These courageous people nearly starved, yet gave it their all.  

A temple was eventually built in St. George, and Allen, who was then nearing the end of his life, lived about 39 miles away, and would travel that three-day journey in, I assume, a horse-drawn buggy and spend days in the temple doing by proxy, saving-ordinances for people who died without the chance to do their own.  He wrote about the difficulty of the journey due to age and poor health, then having to walk 12 blocks to and from the temple each day after he got there.  He would stay for weeks, spending every day in the temple, then endure the journey home.  He died leaving a large posterity, including Yours Truly.  And I am honored to be the descendant of this nineteenth-century Job.

  

***************

So I googled his name for my lesson, and up popped an anti-Mormon site.  I am familiar with online discussion forums, so in I went, curious to see what they had written about him.  

The thread (topic of discussion) opened with something like (paraphrasing) .... No wonder Joseph Smith was assassinated, with such inept bodyguards.  Then ..... get this .... apparently one of my distant cousins, who has dropped out of the Church, piped up with insulting comments about Allen Stout and his family in general.  

In spite of this online conversation being two years old, I spoke up.  

Because I do that.  

"I am descendant of Allen Joseph Stout and don't appreciate your flippant insults regarding my heritage. Such remarks speak of blatant ignorance and if you and I are related, then I am ashamed for you. Allen Joseph Stout was a man of sacrifice, much suffering, dedication and integrity. I am honored to be part of his family. Your attitude, which apparently drove you out of the LDS Church, places you in cynical company, as evidenced here in this forum. You probably don't see it, but your comments are a disgrace and show how far you've fallen. Please excuse my abruptness, but this really pisses me off."  

Yes, I used the P-word.  

I was addressing one of the comments in the thread, but it was then when I saw who had started the thread.  One of our deceased prophets, a Godly man who was revered by millions, is survived by a grandson who decided that the great church and gospel that his grandfather loved and to which he devoted his life, was a fraud and a cult.  This grandson apparently takes great pride tossing his big name around.  I've never met nor encountered him personally, but I had heard of him.  And here we were in this forum, face to face, or rather ... keyboard to keyboard.  

He immediately gave me a hearty welcome before he invited me to read the gossip and twisted historical "facts" concerning that which I hold dear.  He also made it clear exactly WHO had descended down from deity to speak to little me, by promptly stating his name and family ties.  I said:

"I know who you are and am unimpressed. Your grandfather was a great man to say the least, whom I greatly respect and you, most assuredly, broke his heart. You are free, as you well know, to choose your way, but stay away from my ancestors. Do not besmirch the names of those who are not here to defend themselves. I came from people who sacrificed their all, and I am eternally grateful for the blessings I have had every day of my life as a result. My life-long membership in the LDS Church has been the source of every happiness I have ever known and has given me a wonderful life, and I give much credit to people like my great, great, grandfather, for my heritage. I look forward to meeting him and thanking him for his sacrifice and example. You, on the other hand, may have a different experience when you face your own grandfather some day."

I also included some facts about Allen Stout's life and some of his own words from his journal.

Then Mr. Big Name said, 

". . . about Allen J. Stout.

So far, all she (referring to me) has produced has been a smelling-salts woe-is-me Shakesperean-drama death scene, delivered with typical TBM (True Blue Mormon) testimonial passion and fervor--i.e., long on faith, short on facts.

Earth to Kolob Brenda:

This is not a LDS fast-and-testimonial chant-fest. This is the real world.

Deal with the history; dispense with the histrionics.

By the way, my grandfather died of congestive heart failure. There was no broken heart. Thanks for trying."

Then me:

"Oh my goodness. Listen to you! You are really full of yourself, milking fame amongst this embittered crowd with your grandfather's good name. What a tragedy. And to say your grandfather, along with many others of your family, was not saddened and hurt by your choices, is saying he did not care about you. I don't buy it for one minute."

The conversation may seem a little choppy, because I didn't include everything.  Comments were rapidly firing into the thread from different people, but hopefully, you get the gist of it.  

The responses descended into crudeness and profanity after that, from the minions who have nothing better to do than to disparage someone's religion.  And then the thread that had sat dormant for two years, was promptly closed.  Just as well.  

I have been in similar forums defending my faith, but never have I had to defend my own humble, little-known ancestors!  Who ARE these pathetic people who find pleasure in insults and crudity?  Who are these disaffected former members of my faith, who cannot move on?  Who must stay and stir up strife and ill feelings?  Who twist and smear and try to do damage to something that has blessed my life beyond measure?  Why do they do this?   They are free to leave and to live their own lives.  But they don't.  Why is that?  

They cannot see the hatred that shouts from their words.  They cannot see the ugliness in their attitudes.  They justify themselves, thinking they are helping others to leave ...... but to go where?  Into depravity?  Into nothingness?  Into bitterness and contention?  Do they think I'd be tempted to leave that which is uplifting and good and fills my heart with comfort, and be attracted to their behavior?  Really??

It's so profoundly tragic and needless ..... and illogical.   And my heart aches for his grandfather.

**********

Update:  I looked back at the site.  A new thread is started and now they are going after me, and taunting me to respond.  Nice.  

 Instead, I think I'll go for a run.  

Are YOU on a list?

I don't have a clear grasp yet, on this newest arrival in a growing crowd of government scandals, but as I understand it ... our federal government has been collecting data on our phone calls, credit card usage, and internet surfing.  This mind-boggling-sized cache of info is stored somewhere, and only accessible through a court order.  As dangerous as this world is and the fact that there are nations of brain-washed people who will do anything to kill us, I can understand the necessity of strident security and the need for tools to track and block terrorists.  None of us like removing our shoes and submitting to body scans at the airport, but we see the point.  We want to be safe.  And if ever there is a reason for the existence of a federal government, it is to protect us from foreign threats.

Originally, the Patriot Act, enacted by President Bush after 9/11 and heavily criticized by then-Senator Obama, tapped into phone calls to and from suspect countries in the Middle East.  But somewhere down the line, that surveillance expanded to all calls, including MY calls to my pharmacist, to my mechanic, or to my husband.  And again, I can understand the reason.  I don't like it, but I get it.

I am willing to forfeit some freedom and privacy, in exchange for safety.  But here is the problem ... I must be able to trust the people gathering and holding my personal records.  And on the heels of the IRS scandal, which followed the Benghazi lies, the targeting of the press, added to the overall disingenuousness of the current administration .... what little trust I had, has been snuffed out.  Our president has lied to us.  Now he's asking us to trust him.  Really??

So in my opinion, the problem isn't the intrusion, it's the violation of trust.  My president has twisted the truth, evaded facts, smeared good people and backed bad people, covered his tracks, made secret deals to further his career, broken promises, and lied.  All, while he furrows his brow at us as if it's our fault and scolds us for being so uncooperative.  How do we know that some "obscure government paper-pushers in Cincinnati" won't tap into our calls because our political leanings don't jive with their's?  At which point the POTUS* feigns ignorance, saying, "Golly, I only learned about it on the evening news like the rest of you!"  Yeah, right.

"If you can't trust us, then we're going to have a problem." says Barack Obama.  Well, Mr. President, we already had a problem.  We don't trust the IRS.  We don't trust Eric Holder.  We don't trust Joe Biden, Susan Rice, Lois Lerner, Hilary Clinton, Jay Carney, Harry Reid, and we don't trust you.

For all I know, this little blog of mine possibly has landed ME on some watch-list.  It's a ridiculous thought, since my sphere of influence barely exceeds the walls of my own kitchen.  But nowadays, even the ridiculous is becoming less .... ridiculous.



*President Of The U.S.

Ordination of Women

Some say The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is run by men.  

In truth, it is run by Jesus Christ, under the direction of God the Father, via the Holy Ghost.  

It is not headed by Thomas Monson, nor by any preceding prophet.  Prophets serve as God's mouthpiece to his church and to the world.  (Amos 3:7)  The power by which this church runs is called the priesthood, which is the same power through which God operates.  Men receive the right, or the authority, to use this power, or in other words, act in God's name, in graduating stages beginning at age 12.  Historically, God has given this right only to limited groups and currently it is not given to women. 

But it's important to remember that it does not come from, nor belong to, mortal men.  It is not the power of men.  They can only use it upon strict conditions of worthiness.  If they lose this worthiness, including through unrighteous dominion, they lose their authority.  (D&C 121:37)

This priesthood power is used to administer necessary ordinances for salvation, such as baptism.  It allows that which happens in mortality, to be valid in immortality.  It is also used to give blessings of comfort and healing, available to us through the Lord's Atonement.  (Alma 7: 11-12)   It is not the only access to God's power.  Any and all of us can call upon God through prayer.  He hears ALL sincere prayers and especially, in my opinion, those of a mother.

Gender is part of our eternal identity and God has given each similar and differing roles.   The highest and most far-reaching role was given to .... women.  We can bear children.  This most important function in all of God's infinite realm must be protected and preserved.  Everything else revolves around it!  This world, mortal and immortal, was created through the priesthood to provide for the bearing of children, both spiritually, and physically.  It is the premier ... the highest form of creation that exists.  And God gave that profoundly important assignment to women.  In other words, exalted male deity create worlds, but exalted female deity create the bodies for the souls who rule those worlds.  Therefore, IF a hierarchy exists, women occupy the top.  

God shares his power with men to use as a divine tool to protect and support the creative power given to women.   And as is everything God does, or ever has done, it is all a form of serving us.  Through women, God creates mankind and through men, God serves mankind.  And we all must in turn, assist and support each other in our respective roles of serving, honoring, and obeying the Lord to further his great plan.  

Marriage and family are the God-given avenues in which women are to create.  Families must be protected, preserved, and assisted, and again, this responsibility falls heavily upon men.  Both husband and wife, father and mother, support each other and lead the family equally, but in their different roles.  And I do not mean laundry or lawn-mowing.  

Some people think it's time that women are ordained to receive the priesthood just as men are, and until this becomes part of our doctrine, women are short-changed or under-valued.  I disagree.  And since I am an LDS woman, I also claim the right to express my opinion.  Only if and when God wants this to happen, will it happen.  And if so, God will reveal it to his prophet.  It is our responsibility to remain humble, worthy, and open, for whatever God has planned for us.  And I suspect that he has much more in store for us than we realize.

Something to consider:  It could be that women are not currently ordained with priesthood power so to strengthen marriages and in turn, families.  If men and women were given identical roles, then they no longer need each other to become one, because they would be so ... in and of themselves.  (Matthew 19:5)  It is not God's plan to be alone.  Just as we are each given different spiritual strengths and gifts to edify and share with others to complete the body of Christ (1 Cor. 12: 7-14), a husband and wife are given different roles so that they can compliment and cleave to each other to then become one whole perfect unit. "... neither is the man without the woman, neither the women without the man, in the Lord."  (1 Cor. 11:11)  ....... Therefore, his priesthood is her priesthood.  

For women who cannot bear children, remember Abraham's wife Sarah who gave birth long after her "child-bearing years" and long after she, herself, thought possible.  This mortal life is just a sliver of all eternity, and every worthy woman will eventually experience her divine creative privilege.  If not in this life, then in the next.  And how this will be done, I don't know.  We also ALL have the same promise regarding marriage.  No blessings will be denied to anyone who faithfully does his/her best to obey God's commandments which exist for our benefit.  Anything we ultimately lose, will only be that which we willfully reject.  

Satan's influence has cheapened the sacred creative process through disregard for chastity, absent fathers, tampering with God's definition of marriage, and anything that weakens families.  And the claim that women are "second class" in this great church of God, is wrong.  In my opinion, these are also Satan's whisperings to lessen the value of the pinnacle creative power entrusted to women, and to pridefully place one's own wisdom above God's.     

*************************

The LDS Church's Proclamation to the Family:    https://www.lds.org/topics/family-proclamation

My Epiphany on Love

I get epiphanies now and then, and when I do, it's a personal landmark.  Sometimes I might get one or two a year.  Sometimes less.  Rarely more.  So when one happens, I sit up and take notice.  Recently I had two in one day.

I define epiphanies as those moments when a true spiritual principle, zings into my brain, the mental light bulbs flash, and something that I had never really thought about, suddenly becomes clear and logical.  I learned also that my epiphany will likely not be your epiphany.  If I explain it to you with all my inner gusto, you will likely respond with -- Yeah ... and?  But I want to share it anyway, not for you necessarily, but to document it for myself.

I believe in the principle of spiritual gifts.  These gifts come from God, and there is an endlessly long list of them.  A few examples:  Patience.  Compassion.  Belief.  Discernment.  Desire for knowledge.  Faith.  I believe that all these qualities are part of God, and our goal is to become like Him. So little by little, we strive for, and cultivate these qualities.

They are gifts because they are given freely.  "Ask and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you:" (Matthew 7:7)   Some gifts are just naturally there, and some we need to sincerely ask for.  It's that sincerity part that can trip us up.  We have to truly want it and that's where the striving comes into play.

So ..... love.  It too is a spiritual gift.  And here's how my epiphany came about.  A little less than a year ago, Husband and I were reassigned in our church to serve in a congregation of 18 to 30 year olds.  We are there to provide stability, support, and some leadership.  One of the gals who served as the president of the women's organization within this group, would tell us ALL THE TIME how much the Lord loves us.  In my church, I've heard it more times than I can count.

Yes, yes, I'd think as I have thought a million times.  I know He does.  Thank you for the reminder.   But watching this cute little gal, who was barely over 5 feet tall if that, shy and uncomfortable in front of people, quiet yet always smiling ..... I realized something.  She KNOWS this.  She KNOWS God loves us.  And HOW does she know?  Because SHE LOVES US.

In our church, when you are given an assignment to work with a particular group of people, you almost inevitably grow to love them, and often rather quickly.  (I've always heard you grow to love those you serve, but I've often felt that didn't necessarily work for me.  I mean, in all honesty, I have a hard time loving someone who has let their house dwindle into a state of horrible neglect, who then needs my help sorting and cleaning which is what they should have been doing all along ..... or needs help moving but hasn't even started gathering boxes before the trucks arrive ...... and as you see by my whining, I don't quite have the gift of compassion locked down.)  But I know that whenever I have served as a teacher, I LOVE my class.  I LOVE the people who actually come trusting that I will not waste their time.  Many times I have felt gratitude that they allowed me to teach their class.

My point:  How does that love happen?  What causes it?  It is a gift ..... directly from God, that seems to come with that assignment.  But not just that.  It is a bit of HIS love, channeled through us.  HE loves these people and He wants me to tell them.

The morning after the birth of my first baby, after a long labor and all the trauma and excitement, and after I had had a chance to sleep, the nurse brought in this little bundled stranger and actually left him alone with me in all my ineptness.  I remember his eyes looked very furrowed and serious, as if he was dubiously sizing up this silly 21 year old girl who was supposed to be his mother.  "Do you KNOW what you're doing??" he seemed to say.  As I held him I remember quite vividly, in a single moment, falling deeply in love.  Here was someone I had known for a very short time, yet I suddenly felt like I would do anything to protect him.  The conduit of love from God to a mother is particularly powerful, and it hit me like the proverbial ton of bricks.  And that was, and still is, God's love channeled .... or more like .... gushing through me.  

All love comes from, and is a bit of God's love, and He has an infinite reservoir to share.  My love for my family, for example, is God's love, channeled through me.  Therefore, when I love someone, I KNOW God loves them.  Because it's HIS love for them that I'm feeling.  He loved them first and is sharing some of that love with me.  That thought hit me on a Sunday morning, two weeks ago.  Which segues to the obvious .... the more people we love, or in other words, the more people for whom we feel God's love, the closer we are to being like Him, who loves us all.

And to the non-believer:  What better proof of a God, than the existence/reality of love?

So if you're thinking, Yeah .... and? ... it's okay.  As I said, my epiphanies aren't necessarily anyone else's.

Later, in another post, I'll share the other one I had that day.

"cast your mind upon the night"

Yes, I know.  I said I was condensing my life into my other blog, but you should know by now that my declarations often melt into a puddle of goo when my next whim takes hold.  

So here I am back in my "serious" blog, because I want to record something that is very important to me, for my posterity.  Most of them have heard this story, but now it'll be in written form.  

My religious faith includes what we think of as spiritual experiences.  These are moments when we feel we are being influenced by something or someone beyond this world.  That someone, to me, is God.  And one night in June, of 2004, I had one such experience.  Some background:

It was a few weeks before our youngest son was to leave for two years to serve as a missionary for our church.  He was our third son to serve a mission.  Mormon young men, upon reaching age 19 (today they can go at age 18) have the responsibility to give two years of their lives to the Lord.  They do not choose nor do they find out where they'll serve until a few months before they board the plane.   It could be anywhere from Montana to Mozambique. 

Our oldest son served in Tijuana, Mexico, a place so dangerous that I doubt missionaries are currently found there.  He walked on streets that the police avoided.  Our second son went to Venezuela, where, due to political upheaval, I also strongly doubt you'll encounter missionaries today.  

So by the time our third son came of age, I was ready for somewhere relatively  .... safe.  Each son was different.  Oldest Son had lived away from home and didn't go until he was 22.  He had enough street-smarts that I knew he could take care of himself.  Second Son had always been very adaptable.  He seemed to fit in wherever he went, and made friends fairly easily.  Youngest Son was not as adaptable.  He never liked change.  And instead of him getting called to serve in a non-threatening place like Rigby, Idaho, as I had hoped for, he received his letter directing him to Ecuador.  He was to go the farthest of his brothers.  

Brainless, but well-meaning, friends told me of the dangers lurking in Ecuador.  It has the highest poverty rate in South America.  My less-adaptable son had a LOT of adapting ahead of him.  And I was scared for him.  Really scared.  This 6 foot tall, 19 year old young man was my baby.  

I never told him how frightened I was.  And I honestly don't remember if his own excitement sufficiently crowded out his fears.  Yes, of course he had fears.  He would spend two months in a training school to learn Spanish which he would than have to depend upon for 22 months in a far-away, foreign land with only four phone calls home.  He would not see his family, home, nor anything familiar, for 24 months.   Thank goodness for emails.   I learned later that his older brother told him that if anything scary happened, "Don't tell Mom,"  he said,  "Tell me."  

So back to that few weeks before he was to leave.  We'd been getting all his stuff together, ie, paperwork and legal docs, clothing, immunizations, etc., and the departure time was drawing closer and closer.   Very late one night I couldn't sleep.  My mind was writhing with fear.  Would he struggle?  Would he suffer?  Would he be miserable?  Would it be hard?  

So I got up from bed and went downstairs to the family room.  I knelt down at the couch and hashed it all out with God.  My words rambled as I pleaded for my son ... and for myself.  I remember my head was down on my arms on the couch, and my own breathing seemed loud in my ears, like rushing water.  I repeated over and over my list of worries, crying for help.  Then it happened.

Suddenly everything was still.  My breathing, the rushing sound, my frantic thoughts all seemed to stop.  I felt an intense quiet.  I remember stopping and raising my head, instantly noticing that something was different.  What was it?  It suddenly felt like I was inside a very delicate bubble that was quiet and still, with all the commotion shut outside.  I got up and took a few steps, almost afraid that if I moved too quickly, I'd burst the bubble, allowing the trauma to come rushing back in.  But it didn't.  So I went to bed.  

The next morning I was still inside my peaceful bubble.  Not that I didn't worry at all, but I wasn't afraid anymore.  Those last few weeks flew by with all the packing and preparations, and soon we were off to the airport.  His dad and I decided we would fly to Utah with him, and personally take him to the Mission Training Center in Provo.   Our oldest son and his wife, who lived out of state at the time and didn't get to send off their brother at home, surprised him by arriving in Utah and joining us at the MTC.   We attended the meeting that they used to provide for the families of new missionaries, and then hugged and cried as we watched him walk through a door and out of our sight for two years.   It wasn't until a week later, when we got our first letter, that we learned that within ten minutes of leaving us, he practically bumped into his two best friends who had both arrived there several weeks earlier.  We like to call these little unexpected blessings, "tender mercies".

Best friends throughout childhood

Another tender mercy:  In the MTC at that time, the missionaries were divided into over 100 different congregations, called branches, with adult men assigned to each branch, serving as Branch Presidents, similar to pastors or ministers.  My brother was serving as one of the many Branch Presidents in the MTC at that time.   I have no doubt that the Lord personally did some shuffling and our son miraculously ended up in my brother's branch and under his watch.  During those two months our son was in Provo, I didn't have to depend solely on letters to hear how he was doing.   

There is a scripture in the Doctrine and Covenants that reads, "Verily, verily, I say unto you, if you desire a further witness, cast your mind upon the night that you cried unto me in your heart, that you might know concerning the truth of these things.  Did I not speak peace to your mind concerning the matter?  What greater witness can you have than from God?"  (6:22-23)

The homecoming.  Waiting at the airport.  

My conclusion:  Nine years later, I still draw strength from that night.  I know that our sons' missions were right in the Lord's eyes.  I know how it feels to have the Lord's spirit, AKA the Holy Ghost, enwrap me in peace.  The bubble never burst.  I knew our son would be fine and he was.  In fact he thrived in Ecuador.  He loved his mission and came home able to prattle off Spanish fluently with his two older brothers.

Our three former missionary sons.

As they say in our church, they leave as boys, and come home as men.  The same maturity happens to our young women who are able to go.  And we mothers are reminded that they also have a set of Heavenly Parents who love them and are just as concerned that they make it safely back to the home that matters most.