Trying to Answer: Why Does God Allow Bad Things to Happen (part 3 of a 3 part series continued)

When it comes to dealing with pain, I'm a novice really.  I'm just trying to figure it out, so I turn to the pros.  People who have been there and done that, who have not only survived adversity but thrived.  They have much to teach us. 

The first important thing I've learned is that we must recognize that there is always a choice.  Viktor Frankl, a survivor of on of our world's most horrid injustices, a Nazi concentration camp, said, "A human being is not one thing among others; things determine each other, but man is ultimately self-determining. What he becomes - within the limits of endowment and environment- he has made out of himself. In the concentration camps, for example, in this living laboratory and on this testing ground, we watched and witnessed some of our comrades behave like swine while others behaved like saints. Man has both potentialities within himself; which one is actualized depends on decisions but not on conditions...We who lived in concentration camps can remember the men who walked through the huts comforting others, giving away their last piece of bread. They may have been few in number, but they offer sufficient proof that everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms -- to choose one's attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one's own way."


Here he teaches that a great stumbling block in the path of every human being is to blame the results of our lives on their circumstances.  In doing so we fictitiously relieve ourselves of responsibility--which can never really be--but simultaneously, we also remove our free will, making ourselves victims of those circumstances which we blame.  It is a powerless position, and we, who chose agency in the very beginning, don't like the way it feels.  It is miserable. 

I turn to an anonymous teacher, one who chose not to be identified in an article entitled "The Journey to Healing" in the September 1997 issue of Ensign magazine.  She said this: "I am a survivor of childhood physical, emotional, and sexual abuse.  I no longer view myself as a victim.  The change has come from inside of me--my attitude.  I do not need to destroy myself with anger and hate.  I don't need to entertain thoughts of revenge.  My Savior knows what happened.  He will be just.  I will leave it in His hands.  I will not be judged for what happened to me, but I will be judged by how I let it affect my life.  I am responsible for my actions and what I do with my knowledge.  I am not to blame for what happened to me as a child.  I cannot change the past.  But I can change the future.  I have chosen to heal myself and pass on to my children what I have learned.  The ripples in my pond will spread though future generations."

She has taken back her power through the powerful tool of forgiveness, a much misunderstood topic.  Forgiveness isn't so much for the offender as it is for the offended.  Forgiveness means giving up the anger, frustration, resentment, blame, and guilt of what is past so that it no longer can affect the present negatively.  It means we trust in a God who can and will make things right, that justice will be done, and that we can have peace now.  There are things we must all forgive, and the sooner we can do it, the more happy, peaceful, and productive our lives will be.

There also seems to be a connection in her story to finding meaning in the suffering one has undergone.  To hearken back to the wisdom of Viktor Frankl, he has said, "“In some ways suffering ceases to be suffering at the moment it finds a meaning, such as the meaning of a sacrifice...If there is meaning in life at all, then there must be meaning in suffering.”  The anonymous woman, though I'm sure she would trade her past circumstances, may not trade the wisdom, insight, empathy, and self-worth she has gained because of them.  Could one exist without the other?  Could she have gained those same characteristics any other way?  I don't know, but what I do know is that God is capable of taking the ugliest, most painful situations of our lives and using them as our best teachers.  This particular woman has given her suffering meaning by becoming an agent for change and a teacher for future generations.  She provides a living example of another one of Frankl's resounding truths: "To give light one must endure burning."

Next, in one of the great ironies of life, we must use our agency to submit our will to the Fathers.  No where is there a better example of this than in the life of our Savior.  A every turn he communicated, "Not my will, but thine."   As Robert D. Hales says, "By His perfect life, He taught us that when we choose to do the will of our Heavenly Father, our agency is preserved, our opportunities increase, and we progress."  Our agency, the first gift of our Father to us, is truly the only thing that is uniquely ours to give because it is this agency that allows us to choose God or not.  He has given it to us knowing that we can wield it to turn away from Him, but if we will lay it on the alter and like Jesus say, "Thy will be done," we are trusting in a creator who dreams bigger dreams for us than we do for ourselves.  We rely on the Master who knows more than we know, even about ourselves. 

In painful circumstances, we must remember that we are always valuable, that God always loves us and believes in us, and that He will provide every needful thing.  In the LDS religion we are taught, "Verily I say, men should be anxiously engaged in a good cause, and do many things of their won free will, and bring to pass much righteousness.  FOR THE POWER IS IN THEM, wherein they are agents unto themselves.  And inasmuch as men do good they shall in nowise lose their reward" (Doctrine and Covenants 58:27-28).  What is that power He is talking about?  It must be, at least in great part, the power to choose--to choose Him, to choose His Son, to choose happiness, to choose the right, to choose a better way of living. 

Life has a way, sometimes through adversity, of questioning us.  That, I think, was always God's intent.  In response to life's questioning we get to choose, and what we choose to do determines who we will become; that is our final answer. 

In Mosiah 8:18 we read, "Thus God has provided a means that man, through faith, might work mighty miracles; therefore he becometh a great benefit to his fellow beings."  I still believe in a God that can work miracles, and I might be a little closer to understanding the real miracle of living.  I've come to a place that can dash my heart to pieces, it's true; but through my faith in our Savior's atonement it can be repaired, and while it is being sewn up again I gain patience, and wisdom, and generosity, and empathy, and understanding, and kindness, and forgiveness, a benefit not only to me but those in my circle of influence...Isn't that the miracle?  And if the miracle I seek is for him to keep my heart whole in the first place won't I miss what He is really trying to do for me?  Won't I miss the miracle altogether?

So I'm grateful for my life--all of it!  The mess, the hurt, the worry, the sorrow, as well as all the good stuff that goes along with it.  I'm grateful for the miracle that is living and for a wise Father who allows me to experience all of it and who has lovingly provided His Son to make sure I can find my way back home.  I certainly don't seek adversity, but I am beginning to understand its needful place in answering this vital question:  "Who will I be even when things go wrong?"

Trying to Answer: Why Does God Allow Bad Things to Happen (part 3 of a 3 part series)

I'm trying to answer these questions for no one but myself, but if you are interested in reading my first two essays, you can find them here and here.

In the middle of our infertility issues, I remember wondering which of all the terrible things I had ever done had caused this to happen, for surely this was some kind of punishment.  After all, I believe in a God of miracles.  I know that He and His Son can cure any affliction.  Clearly, I was unworthy of such a blessing.  Or maybe I was just so stubborn that God had to teach me the hard way.  Or maybe I just didn't have the kind of faith necessary to call forth such a miracle.  Whatever it was, whether in my past or present, obviously the problem was due to some deficiency in me, and God was just going to have to punish it out of me.  That was the conversation in my head on the bad days, even though I knew better. 

I don't, in fact, believe in a wrathful, angry, vengeful God, but when things go wrong, it's only human nature to find a reason for it, and sometimes when there is no good explanation, the one we grasp at is that our suffering must be a sign of God's displeasure.  Suddenly, God no longer resembles a loving father, but looks more like Zeus, grabbing that lightening bolt of his in rage and pointing it right at my back.  And so it was that in my late 20's I began to question the nature of God, His plan, His purposes, and my place within all of it.  Who was He, really?  And who was I to Him?  Once so sure of the answers--at least when the questions were much more simple--I was now floundering in deeper waters.

Then one day, as I turned to John, I read, "And as Jesus passed by, he saw a man which was blind from his birth.  And his disciples asked him, saying, Master, who did sin, this man, or his parents, that he was born blind?  Jesus answered, Neither hath this man sinned, nor his parents: but that the works of God should be made manifest in him" (John 9:1-3).  Never before had this particular passage spoken to personally to me.  It looked like I was asking an age old question, and there was peace in Christ's answer...but there were more questions, too.  Like, what exactly are the works of God?  And how, exactly, were they going to be made manifest in our infertility?  I still didn't have the whole answers for those.

As I have come to believe, the true answer, I think, begins in the lesson of the third of the host of heaven who in their premortal existence followed Satan and his plan for forced salvation.  Elder Robert D. Hales taught that, "Those who followed Satan lost the opportunity to receive a mortal body, live on Earth, and progress.  Because of the way they used their agency, they lost their agency."  What I find fascinating in that teaching is the connection between progress and agency.  Because they do not have the opportunity to experience mortal life, in all it's imperfection, they can not progress.  There is a direct correlation there, and it hints, I believe, at what the works of God actually entail.

His goal does not seem to be to provide a perfect life for each of us, but rather to give us life so that we might become perfected.  He doesn't seem to be so interested in clearing our path but far moreso in clarifying our hearts.  Like a good parent, He knows that what is best for us isn't that we are always just happy.  If that were the case He would give us everything we want the very minute we want it.  He would protect us from natural consequences.  He would shield us from pain.  Every real life parent knows how well that would turn out, right?  Though we want our children to be happy, we know that focusing primarily on giving them only happiness will actually end in misery.  God knows that real happiness--progression, salvation, and eternal life--come with certain costs.  Costs that seem necessary in some larger way.  In making those payments we have to opportunity to reap gread dividends, but He also knows that it is how we manage those payments that will make all the difference.

Our use of agency in responding to pain determines the outcome.  Pain does not have to embitter us.  Pain does not have to ruin us.  I absolutely know that there is a way to encounter pain so that it can be our best teacher.

(to be continued...because although I have deep thoughts, I have a life that gets in the way of writing them down.)

Trying to Answer: Why Does God Allow Bad Things to Happen? (part 2 of a 3 part series)

I am not a real time blogger.  If I were, I would blog even when I am sick, which I have been.  The kind of sick that makes me forget to put homework in my kids' backpacks, or makes me let them watch far too much TV instead of insisting that they read, or makes me take a nap in the middle of the afternoon...that kind of sick.  It's been going around here in Mesa.  Hope you don't get it while reading this.  I shouldn't be contagious anymore...

Nobody likes pain.  Most of us do what we can to avoid it because...well...it's painful.  And who wants that?  The fact that some actions result in painful circumstances is not lost on me.  I really like the commandments for the very reason that total freedom is not totally free.  God's commandments are statements of fact about natural consequences of certain behaviors.  The "Thou Shalt Nots" are shalt nots because those things will hurt us.  Every time.  He doesn't want that for us either, and because He is a loving parent, he gives us plenty of guidance about dangerous actions.

Those of us accustomed to faith get used to the idea that living with some restrictions actually makes us more free.  But I propose that some of us get a little too used to it, and we become somewhat confused in this area, assuming that by doing what is right we can--or should--be able to avoid all pain.  Then, when we are blindsided by difficulty, we find ourselves saying things like, "But I did what I was supposed to do.  Where are the blessings?  This wasn't supposed to happen to me."  This is a misconception that will lead us further away from God and from His healing power.

Certainly, obedience to the commandments saves us from the consequences of our own poor choices, but if we believe for one minute that obedience will keep us from all pain, we are bound to be frustrated and our faith will be weakened. As we have already discussed, we live in an imperfect world where we confront disease, disasters, and death. Those are givens, and they will touch us all in one way or another. But we must also come to terms with the fact that we share this earth with other millions of our Father’s children who have as much right to their agency as we do, and sometimes, sadly, their misuse of it will effect us. The outcomes of these poor decisions run the gamut from disappointing to horribly unspeakable, but always it is unjust. It is unfair. However, let us remember that we did not fight to come to a world that was fair.


In our premortal existence Lucifer stepped forward with a plan where not even one soul would be lost. Indeed, it was a plan of rebellion, not only against the Father but against the principle of agency. Marion Hanks taught that: “Lucifer had no love in his heart, no real concept of freedom or respect for it. He had no confidence in the principle or in us. He argued for forced salvation, for imposed survival, for an agencyless round trip to the earth and back again. None would be lost, he insisted. But he seemed not to understand that none would be any wiser, either, or any stronger or more compassionate or humble or grateful or more creative, under his plan.”

Then Christ stepped forward and exercised his agency to support our Father’s plan and offer himself up as a savior for us. To cover our shortcomings, our pains, our disappointments with his blood.

And we chose. A third of our brothers and sisters followed Satan, and we—here on this earth—had enough faith in Jesus Christ to choose a life that was sometimes unfair. We believed he could cover us.  Even when circumstances are unfair.  Even when we do everything right and we experience pain anyway.  Even when it is not our fault.

Pain, adversity, uncertainty, difficulty--we will experience them all here in mortality.  There is no escape route.  No easy way.  As Dr. Carlfred Brokerick said, “The Gospel of Jesus Christ is not insurance against pain. It is a resource in the event of pain.”  We will not be saved from pain because of our faith, but because of our faith we can know what to do with it when it comes.  Our faith--even in our darkest moments--can lead us to Him in whom we can trust, who is The One who can heal us.

Trying to Answer: Why Does God Allow Bad Things to Happen? (part 1 of a 3 part series)

Let me first say:  On the scale from 1-10 of "The Most Horrible Things that Could Happen" I live at a one.  Really.  I haven't known a lot of horror, lucky me.  I've had a few bummers to deal with.  All of us do.  And sometimes circumstances lead us to wonder, "Why does God Allow Bad Things to Happen?"  If he truly is God--all-powerful, all-knowing, omniscient Alpha and Omega--then why?  Why allow the innocent to suffer?  Or evil to go unpunished?  Why the needless destruction and misery?  Why, dear God, is life so unfair?

It's not a new question.  I'm not the first and will certainly not not be the last to wonder what exactly is going on up there in the heavens.  ("Hello, up there...Anybody home?")  It's a fundamental question of anyone of faith.  My own religious faith is so much a part of my guiding voice that I can not examine these questions without referring to it.

As a part of my faith, I believe that we lived with God before ever coming to earth, and I believe the answer begins there in this premortal existence.  There we were first given and exercised our agency--the ability to act according to the moral agency which God gives us and to be accountable for those choices. 

We lived with a loving Father, whose goal was and is to see us progress in light, understanding, and knowledge, so that we could become like Him and live with Him forever.  To do this we needed experience.  And Father set forth a plan where we would come to earth, receive a body, choose to act between good and evil, and progress.  Our agency was central to that plan.

The Book of Mormon 2 Nephi chapter 2 is an outstanding lesson on the gift of agency, and I'll borrow from it liberally to explain.  If we had not been given the ability to choose "we would have remained in a state of innocence, having no joy, for we would know no misery.  Doing no good, for we would know no sin."  And so God--knowing we would hurt, loved us enough to want us to grow and allowed us to act for ourselves, which would be impossible except that we be enticed by the one or the other.  Therefore, it needs be that there is an opposition in all things.  Righteousness could not be brought to pass, neither wickedness, neither holiness nor misery, neither good nor bad.  And so it needs be that all of these things--both the light and the dark--should be part of this existence.  Without this opposition there would be no choice, and without choice no agency, and without agency no progress.  And then the whole point of our existence here would be frustrated; we and the earth would be been created for a thing of naught; wherefore there would have been no purpose in the end of its creation.  It would have destroyed the wisdom of God and his eternal purposes as well as His power, and mercy, and justice.

This world was put in place to be the best learning lab for each of us. Yes, it is imperfect, and unjust, and unfair, but in all of that it is the perfect place for us to learn discernment, to practice choice, and to determine our responses to circumstances not of our choosing. I am not convinced that God "sends" any hardship into our lives, but I know that he created a place where they would certainly be encountered.


This opportunity we have been given to face opposition may be the most meaningful expression of God's belief in us.  Marion D. Hanks said that "He loves us and believes in us and has done and will do anything He can to help us, but He will not impose on our agency.  God so loved that He would not shield us from the perils of freedom, from the right and responsibility to choose.  So deep is His love and so precious that principle the He, who was conscious of the consequences required that we choose...freedom is precarious, difficult, but we had learned that the alternatives to love and freedom of choice cannot provide the climate for growth and creative capacity that can eventually lead us to a a stewardship like our Father's."

Why does God allow bad things to happen? Because he loves us. He knew we would hurt. That sometimes we would fail. That we would lose those we loved. He could keep us safe, but he loves us enough to let us go, to let us live, to let us learn, to let us grow.

(to be continuted...)

Tiny Miracles

My baby crawled today.  Well...not actually crawled, maybe, but he certainly did get from point A to point B, and not without difficulty. 

We were supposed to be getting him dressed, but he was more interested in the bright red air hockey paddle that his brother had left lying in the middle of the floor.  And as he rolled away onto his tummy, lifted his thick little self onto his hand and pulled his knees under him, I watched, fascinated.  Like every one of my babies he is a miracle to me, but perhaps it is my age.  I'm ready to slow down and enjoy these little wonders.  So I watched.

With his eyes locked on the prize, he began to rock back and forth on his knees, and then he suddenly lurched forward, pinning his little hands beneath him and landing squarely on his face.  It didn't seem to faze him.  Quickly he pulled his hands forward and propped himself up again.  More rocking and another lurch, but this time he kept his head raised and fell onto his chest.  Then, while remaining on his belly, his little arm reached out, stretching its full length, his little fingers straining toward the object still outside of his grasp.  With all this effort he had covered only inches of ground.

I expected any moment to hear a cry of frustration, but it did not come, so I watched.  His tiny feet kicked and kicked in a desperate attempt to bring the object closer.  Instead, his little body scooted forward mere millimeters.  This seemed to inspire him to renew his efforts, and once again he was back on his knees, rocking and lurching.  I watched it all, and as I watched my eyes filled with tears.

I cried not only over my baby's first attempts at independence, though I was witnessing a little miracle.  I think I cried over something bigger.  I think those tears were for the miracle of our human ability to try.  To grow.  To fail.  And to try again.  The human struggle begins at birth, does it not?  And for a moment, I think I glimpsed God's mercy.  How I loved my little baby.  How I wanted him to succeed.  How I understood his necessary struggle.  Do I judge God to be any different in His perfect love? 

I don't think He is as impatient with me as I sometimes believe Him to be.  No.  I think He expects me to struggle.  He knows it is necessary for my growth.  As I crawl to Him, I think He celebrates all the rocking and lurching, the inches of ground I cover, and the efforts I make to get back up when I fall.  He is my Father.  He loves me.  Those were tears of gratitude, both for me as a mother and for me as a child, all at once witnessing a little miracle.

Thoughts on Worship: Gathering Together Oft'

I know one thing for sure: I need to develop a personal relationship with my Savior, Jesus Christ. This requires effort on my part. Personal effort. Moments of quiet meditation. Personal revelation. Covenants kept. I know that. Can't I do that alone?Yes, in part. But I also need others, and they need me. As I've considered the importance of gathering, I have discovered three important elements of group worship.

The first is that of covenants, or two-way promises between me and the Lord. I need baptism. I need His sacrament. Both as an outward promise of my devotion and as a vehicle for repentance and obtaining His forgiveness. These I can not do alone because they require the authority given to man by God. Even Christ sought out John the Baptist because of his authority to baptise in the name of the Father. I think anyone who is a member of a religion believes that his/her religion is a vehicle of God's authority.

The second purpose of gathering together is just as clear. Man has a very short memory. Gathering together often is a way of recharging our spiritual batteries, so to speak. We are reminded of a higher purpose. Many times we get so consumed by the "have-to's" of life that we forget what is really important, and so a wise God commands us to put aside the "have-to's" for one day, to gather and focus on the welfare of our souls, the only have-to that is not temporary.

The third component of gathering together that I have been thinking on is a bit more subtle but no less important. If we take upon ourselves the name of Christ, are to follow His example, and truly become Christlike, how is that done? Can I do that singularly? No. It requires that I bump into people, because in that jostling I gain the opportunity to forgive and to be forgiven; to take upon myself another's burdens and have my own be shared; to receive mercy and to be merciful. One of my favorite gospel teachers was an LDS Apostle named Neil A. Maxwell. He said it like this,

"...the Church is 'for the perfecting of the saints' (Eph. 4:12); it is not a well-provisioned rest home for the already perfected. ...in the kingdom we are each other’s clinical material; the Lord allows us to practice on each other, even in our imperfections. And each of us knows what it is like to be worked on by a 'student' rather than a senior surgeon. Each of us, however unintentionally, has also inflicted some pain."

God in his infinite wisdom gave us first our family and then, secondly, the family of believers with whom we are commanded to gather. By doing so, he ensured that we would have plenty of practice in developing charity--the pure love of Christ. On our best days we may inspire someone. On our worst, we are lifted up by someone else.

I have been lucky in my life to be surrounded by believers--both of my particular faith and of others. I have been inspired, lifted, and forgiven. I have witnessed living testaments of charity, and I have been changed. I am grateful to gather in His name.

(For the rest of Elder Neil A. Maxwell's talk go here. )

Thoughts on Worship

Over the last month or so, I have been considering the hows and whys of worship. My thoughts are vast and varied, so in an attempt to clarify them, I thought I would pose some questions and discuss them here. If interested, feel free to post your own thoughts. No right or wrong answers here.

The history of the Christian faith clearly exhorts the believers to gather together for worship.

Acts 20
7 And upon the first day of the week, when the disciples came together to break bread, Paul preached unto them, ready to depart on the morrow; and continued his speech until midnight.
8 And there were many lights in the upper chamber, where they were gathered together.

Nehemiah 9
1 Now in the twenty and fourth day of this month the children of Israel were assembled with fasting, and with sackclothes, and earth upon them.
2 And the seed of Israel separated themselves from all strangers, and stood and confessed their sins, and the iniquities of their fathers.
3 And they stood up in their place, and read in the book of the law of the LORD their God one fourth part of the day; and another fourth part they confessed, and worshipped the LORD their God.

Psalms 26
12 My foot standeth in an even place: in the congregations will I bless the LORD.

Acts 4
31 And when they had prayed, the place was shaken where they were assembled together; and they were all filled with the Holy Ghost, and they spake the word of God with boldness.

Acts 11
26 And when he had found him, he brought him unto Antioch. And it came to pass, that a whole year they assembled themselves with the church, and taught much people. And the disciples were called Christians first in Antioch.

Hebrews 10
24 And let us consider one another to provoke unto love and to good works:
25 Not forsaking the assembling of ourselves together...

The God I know is not frivolous in the commands He gives. Moreover, I believe His purpose in any commandment is to bless us. Considering that, what is the importance of gathering together? Can one worship effectively alone? How does gathering prove a blessing to the members?

I Found my Heart at UW

Mr. Wicke and I met at the University of Wyoming LDS Institute, which is remarkable in that it sets us apart from all of the other couples at church who customarily met at BYU, which was the tradition in our California ward, or, here in Arizona, who knew each other since attending high school at Westwood or Mesa High. But it's also remarkable since he had no business being there.

Why would a Mormon boy from northern California ever consider attending the University of Wyoming? My mother takes the credit saying that she "prayed him there," and as I have become a firm believer in mothers being given an extra ear in Heaven, I don't dismiss it. But I also don't disregard Brother Lawton who once attended UW himself and who at church one Sunday suggested to my Mr. Wicke that he look into it. Ultimately, however, Mr. Wicke insists he gets the credit because it was, after all, he who turned down the full-tuition scholarship from BYU to come and find me--oh, that and to get an education, I suppose.

Whatever the reason, I'm glad he was there that night. Glad because I get to spend forever with him, but also because it just goes to show that two Mormon kids, whose life ambition doesn't include attending BYU can still stay active in our church, find each other, marry in the temple, and have a really good life. All of that AND because I really love the University of Wyoming.

Oh, I know. They're a rowdy bunch. Just ask anyone from BYU who comes over for a football game. But they are also down to earth, solidly good people. Some of the best friendships of my life were developed there--people I still maintain deep connections with.

My college experience was made the day I auditioned for and got into a musical theater troupe called Centennial Singers. I knew it would be a great performing opportunity, but I had no idea what profound joy these people would bring to me. I found a new family there.

Some of them got together over the weekend, and while my heart wanted to be with them, my body needed to be here with my kids preparing them for the new school year. I dream that Heaven will be a place where such choices don't have to be made; I dream that it will be a place where I can be with everyone I love all at the same time. Until then, and until I can see them in person again, I want my UW soul mates to know that big pieces of my heart walk with you every day. You have changed me for better for good.

Mr. Wicke and I send our love.

Post Edit: If you want to see these people in action and read exactly what I feel in my heart about these fantastic friends, go here. Jen says it perfectly.

On Prayer

Praying together as a family is a gift. Not only for the spiritual benefit, but so that a brother can hear his sister say this to God:

"...And thank you that we could celebrate Griffin's birthday, and that he could come to our family. We love him so."

Yes, such a heartfelt prayer, said aloud for all to hear, does much to bring a spirit of harmony and unity to our home. It is the best antidote I know for the normal bickering and teasing between siblings. Thank you, Father, for commanding us to pray.

Just So You Know

Here's a bunch of Fundamental Latter-Day Saint women I don't know.

Here's a bunch of Latter-Day Saint women I do know. Can you see the difference?

On the Today show I heard the polygamists in the Texas Ranch fiasco described as members of the Latter-Day Saints. Just for the record: Today got it wrong. The members of that group call themselves Fundamentalist Latter-Day Saints. I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latterday-Saints (yes, the Mormons.) It is a minor name change but a big, BIG difference.

It is important to note that the FLDS was founded in 1935 by two excommunicated Mormons: John Y. Barlow and Joseph White Musser. Having been excommunicated they were already living in opposition to the tenants of the LDS religion. It is no wonder that the religion they established now looks nothing like the one they opposed.

Here is a post I wish I had written to clearly delineate the differences between them and us.

And just so you know, the closest I've ever come to polygamy is when I was home visiting my mother one summer. She sent me to the grocery store for a few items. On her list was, of course, bread, and knowing how she loves good, homemade bread I picked the best looking loaf on the shelf.

The next morning as we were making toast for breakfast she snapped, "Laurel! You bought that polygamist bread!"

"What?" I laughed out loud.

"Oh, there's a group of polygamists that live out of town and they make this bread as one of their jobs. I do NOT buy this bread!"

"Well, geeze, Mom. How do you think I was supposed to know that? It's not like it has, 'Made by some Polygamists' written all over it. Besides it looks like really good bread."

At that moment Mr. Wicke interrupted, "You know, I thought it was kind of funny. After that second piece of toast, I had a hankerin' for another wife."

Yup. That's as close to polygamy as I've come. And, while I don't mean to be vain, I think I have better clothes and hair than the women on "The Ranch," so can you blame me if I get a little peeved when I get thrown in with them? They look pretty freaky to me, too. Just so you know.

A Tribute

President Gordon B. Hinckley
June 23, 1910 - January 27, 2008

If you read many blogs of Mormon authorship, you will see a lot of this man today because we lost our beloved prophet last night.

That's right, I said prophet. Because we believe, just like Adam, Noah, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and Moses, that God still chooses to communicate with His children through prophets and send them out into the world to preach His message. It isn't a job I would want. The nature of the calling requires an imperfect human to stand way out on a spiritual limb and yell into the roar of the societal wind. Some people might see that as nutty. Some people despised him for it, and some of us just fell 110% in love with him.

He was fearless. Remember when he was interviewed on national television by Mike Wallace and Mormons everywhere held their collective breath hoping to heaven that it came off well? After all we are fully aware that the general masses don't quite know what to make of us. At best we are seen as quirky. At worst we are seen as a mindless cult. What would our leader say? How would he be treated? None of us could have born to see him humiliated. And he wasn't. In fact, he was marvelous. The man we all loved was communicated perfectly across the screen. He was gentle, full of light, witty, and unapologetic about our beliefs. Quite frankly, I think Mike Wallace, that hardened cynical newsman, fell a little in love with him, too.

I will deeply miss President Hinckley. He taught me a great deal about service to our fellow man, kindness, gratitude and faith. Both his example and words helped me find the focus of my life, the quality of my character. His time spent out on that spiritual limb was not wasted on me, and I am grateful for his service and sacrifice.

Thank you, President Hinckley. Now go. Enjoy your rest. I know this lovely lady is waiting for you.


Sister Marjory Hinckley
1911-2004

As Sister Hinckley told the audience assembled at the 1998 Governor's Marriage Enrichment Conference, "I am very grateful for a husband who always lets me do my own thing. . . . He never insists that I do anything his way, or any way for that matter. From the very beginning he gave me space and let me fly. What a man!"

What a man, indeed.

For an insightful article on Gordon B. Hinckley's life and career, go here.