Love One Another

Yes, Brother Simmons read my post last night, and yes, we talked about it today. But I don't want to talk about that right now. Right now I want to talk about Jan. It turns out Jan had one last lesson to teach me.

This evening Lucy and I attended an informal memorial service for Jan at Kiwanis Park in Provo. It wasn't her funeral. That will be held tomorrow morning at her family's ward chapel in Alabama. Greg let me know that for his part I'm welcome but that their dad knows who I am and has made it clear that he doesn't want me within fifty miles of the funeral. I considered going anyway--from what I know of Jan's dad, he doesn't deserve to be at her funeral--but finally I decided I don't want to make a scene. No matter how much of a jerk her dad is, I'm sure he loves her and I can't even imagine how terrible he must be feeling now. I don't want to make it worse. I can pay my respects to Jan in my own way. So that's what I did tonight.

First, let me get the crappy stuff out of the way: As you may have seen on the news, there were protesters at the memorial service. Protesters. At a memorial service. I can't even begin to understand these people. They were standing around the edges of the park, holding signs that said things like "The Wages of Sin is Death" and "God Hates Freaks." Lucy squeezed my hand when she saw me fuming as we passed the protesters. "Just ignore them," she said softly. I did, but it still makes me sick to think about it.

Okay, with that out of the way, we can get to the good stuff: There were probably a thousand people there at the park, gathered to celebrate Jan's life (compared to at most fifty protesters). People had come from every corner of Utah, from St. George to Logan. Some came from Idaho and Nevada and Arizona. I talked to one guy who flew in from New York after he read about Jan in the news and was touched by her story. For about two hours, people stood on a stage and talked about how Jan has touched their lives. Most were people she had healed, but some hadn't even met her--they were mutants who were inspired by her to come out of the closet and use their powers for good. It seemed like most of the people had some connection with the LDS church, ranging from active believers to angry apostates. But every one of them agreed on one thing: The world needs more people like Jan.

The service ended with everyone there joining hands and singing a Mormon hymn, "Love One Another." As we sang the simple words, "As I have loved you / Love one another," our voices drowning out the noise of the protesters behind us, my chest trembled. I couldn't even finish the song before I broke down in sobs. Lucy put her arms around me, and then suddenly random strangers were joining in, wrapping me in a group hug. The outpouring of love from people I've never met was almost as overwhelming as my grief for Jan.

I've heard people say that God is love. If that's true, then I believe in God.

Power to Heal

As promised, Lucy and I visited Jan at the UofU Hospital last night. Even after Greg had described her looking like a ghost, I wasn't prepared to see her in the condition she's in. If I didn't know better, I'd swear she was an old lady. She's lost so much weight that her skin hangs loose off her bones. Her dark eyes get lost in the dark circles that surround them. Her hair is brittle and falling out. She can talk, but the effort seems to exhaust her.

As soon as we entered the room, Lucy sat on the bed next to Jan and took hold of her hand. I sat in the turquoise vinyl chair by the window.

"Thanks for coming," Jan said weakly.

"Are you kidding?" Lucy said. "How many hours did you and Ben spend sitting by me while I was in a bed just like this one?" She smiled at me. "I guess it's your turn next, Ben."

"How are you doing?" Jan asked Lucy.

Lucy beamed. "Never better, thanks to you." At first I thought that was a somewhat tactless reference to Jan dumping me, freeing me up to date Lucy, but then I realized it was nothing so me-centric. Lucy was referring to the healing, of course.

"I'm glad," said Jan. "I want to help more people, but they won't let me."

"You need to help yourself first," Lucy said.

Jan made a slight movement in her shoulders that might have been a shrug. "I don't care about myself."

"Well, we do." Lucy shut her eyes and squeezed Jan's hand. "I just wish I could do for you what you did for me. I wish more than anything I had that power. But I don't, so you need to..." Lucy opened her eyes and looked at me. "But Ben does!"

"What?" I sat up. "No, I don't have the power to heal. All I can do is fly."

Lucy laughed. "You dork. I'm not talking about mutant powers. Give her a priesthood blessing."

I froze. The thought hadn't occurred to me. It would have been the first thing I thought of six months ago, but last night it didn't even cross my mind until Lucy suggested it. I had consecrated oil on me--I keep a vial on my key chain--but was I worthy to give a blessing? I haven't even been sure lately that I believe in the church. Honestly, I didn't even believe that giving her a blessing would make any difference. It hadn't with Lucy.

Jan saved me. "Greg gave me a blessing last night. A male nurse helped him."

Lucy smiled. "Good. Then you'll be just fine."

I looked away. I wished I could believe that.

Life and Death

Longtime readers may remember that I met my now-ex-girlfriend Jan through her brother Greg, who happens to be one of my roommates. You probably won't be surprised that since Jan and I broke up, things have been a little awkward between Greg and me. It's not that he's angry at me for breaking up with his sister--she's the one who broke up with me, really, and it just wasn't that kind of break up--but rather... Well, I don't know. Things are weird. Even weirder after this morning.

I went to get breakfast and Greg was at the kitchen table, staring at the wall. His Colossal Berry Crunch looked like it had been soaking in milk for a while--there wasn't much crunch left. Things may be awkward between us, but I wasn't about to ignore his obvious distress while I ate my breakfast. "What's up?" I asked.

"Huh?" He looked like I'd jerked him out of a trance.

"Are you okay?"

"Oh. Yeah, I guess. I've just been up all night. Worried about..." He looked to me tentatively.

"Jan?"

Greg nodded. "She's at the University of Utah Hospital. She woke up from her last healing a few days ago, but hasn't even been able to get out of bed. She asked the nurses to bring the next person waiting to be healed to her, but they refused. And after seeing her last night, I don't blame them. She's in no condition to be healing anyone. She looks like a ghost, Ben. So pale, and hardly anything but skin covering her bones."

I remembered how she looked the last time I saw her. With that in mind, what Greg was telling me didn't surprise me.

Greg pounded the table, knocking the spoon out of his bowl. "Why is she so hellbent on killing herself? Believe me, I'm as pro-mutant as anyone--I'm the one who encouraged her to accept that part of herself, years ago--but using a mutant power that's killing you is just stupid. I don't care how many other people she's helping. I wish she'd never..." He looked at me and seemed to reconsider saying he wished she'd never used her healing power in the first place.

Considering that the first time she used her power intentionally was to save the life of my current girlfriend, it was kind of Greg to hold back. But he'd already said enough to make me think. Is it really fair for Jan to die so that Lucy can live? I'm not even going to try to answer that question. But what if I had never convinced Jan to heal Lucy? She wouldn't have decided to become the Mother Theresa of mutants, devoting her life to healing others. She'd probably still be here at BYU. With me. And Lucy would be dead. The thought makes me shudder now, just as it did this morning. I wouldn't want, not in a million years, for Lucy to die. But I don't want that for Jan either.

"Do you think," I asked Greg, "she'd be okay with me visiting her?"

He shrugged. "I don't see why not. She'll probably try to convince you to bring her someone to heal."

So I guess I'm going to visit Jan tonight. Lucy's coming too. Not because she has to chaperone me while I visit my ex-girlfriend, but because she's worried about Jan too. Lucy owes Jan her life. Hopefully we can convince Jan to value her own.

Jan Update

Jan is still unconscious. The doctors say she'll be fine, but I'm starting to get nervous--it's been more than 24 hours. If anything happens to her I'll feel horrible. This whole thing was my idea. But I keep reminding myself that we did the right thing.

The nurses kicked me out at one point because it wasn't visiting hours and I'm not related to Jan--an annoying reminder that with Utah laws where they are currently I couldn't be legally related to Jan if I wanted to be--but Greg showed up a little after that and used his next-of-kin status to get them to let me back in.

...And I've just been told that I need to leave at 10. Oh well. I can sit in the waiting room. Whenever Jan wakes up, I won't be far.

Last Days

Greg and I visited Lucy this afternoon. She's worse than ever. The doctors expect her to pass any day now. She doesn't even have the strength to speak. She just lies on her side and stares at you while you talk to her. Still, her mom said she's sure Lucy knows we're there, and appreciates it. Greg shared a brief message about eternal families. Lucy's mom cried. A whispered grunt escaped Lucy's mouth, like she was trying to say something.

All I could think was, Jan could heal her.

 

In The Middle

Greg got back from his Christmas break today. I was nervous about things being awkward between us because, well, it never occurs to you that dating your roommate's sister is a bad idea until you kind-of-sort-of break up with her because she used her mutant power to save your life and then had to vow to the Honor Code Office and her bishop never to see you again, all while your roommate is at home visiting the family who has more or less disowned his sister. But it turns out that Greg doesn't do awkward. "Hey dude," he said when he got in, "I heard about everything that happened. Just so you know, it doesn't change anything between you and me. We're still friends. And hometeaching comps too." He held up a finger and declared, "There will be no drama in this companionship." He laughed. "I've been caught between Jan and our dad for the past ten years--heck, my entire life--and I have a strict no-taking-sides policy."

Then I updated him on Lucy. Then we ate ramen. And that was that.

Fight On

Greg and I both had a couple of hours free this afternoon, so we went to the hospital to check in on Lucy. Technically home teachers are only required to visit their teachees once a month, but we'd have to be pretty crappy people to stick to the bare minimum when our teachee is in the hospital undergoing chemo, so we've been trying to go at least once a week, if not more. Lucy seems to enjoy our visits. Seems like whenever we arrive there's someone else there, and by the time we leave another person or three show up, so Lucy's got no shortage of people who love and support her. I'm glad to see that--no one should have to go through what she's going through alone. The doctors actually recommended against chemo because the cancer was so far advanced by the time they found it that the chemo has a very small chance of making a real impact other than putting Lucy through unnecessary pain, but Lucy was not willing to just lie down and accept defeat. She has faith in the blessings her father has given her, but she knows that God expects us to do our part, so she's doing everything she can. It's inspiring, really. You can tell just by looking at Lucy that she's hurting--the dark circles under her eyes, the amount of weight she's lost in the past couple of weeks (she was already thin), the way her hands tremble--but she refuses to give up. I want to be like Lucy when I grow up.

Power Failure

Well, that didn't go as planned. This afternoon, just a few minutes after I got home from class, Greg banged on my door. "Lucy's in the hospital!" A mix of emotions flooded me: fear for my friend, guilt for not thinking of her since meeting Jan the other night, shame for letting a date gone wrong get in the way of my home teaching responsibilities. Lucy had been sick on Sunday and I hadn't followed up to see whether she was better on Monday, just because I felt embarrassed and awkward around her. Now I felt like a big, selfish jerk.

Greg filled me on the way to the hospital: Lucy had been in pain since Friday night, off and on, and this morning she'd started throwing up blood again. She refused to go to the doctor, but when she fainted from blood loss, one of her roommates called 911.

When we got to Lucy's room at Utah Valley Regional Medical Center, her roommate and her parents were in there with her. Lucy was sitting in bed in a hospital gown, looking a little pale but otherwise okay. She had an IV in her wrist. She smiled and said, "Hi Greg!," then looked at me and said hello much less enthusiastically. Her mom, whom I'd met briefly when picking Lucy up on Friday, frowned at me. I could only imagine what Lucy had told her. Lucy's dad, on the other hand, seemed happy to see both me and Greg. He shook our hands and said, "Thank you guys for coming. Will one of you assist me in giving Lucy a blessing?"

"Greg please," Lucy said quickly.

Greg gave me a questioning look, but I just motioned for him to go ahead with the blessing.

I can't say I blame Lucy. I know that having unnatural power proclivity doesn't make me unworthy, but I've gone beyond just having UPP lately. Between proudly proclaiming myself a mutant to anyone who will listen, chasing after relationships God doesn't want me to have, and generally obsessing over the mutant issue, it's like I want my sinful nature to define me. I've been putting the "X" before the "Mormon." And let's be honest--if a man who lusts after a woman has already committed adultery in his heart, then I've committed the sin of using my mutant power every day. Several times a day. I might as well have flown to Paris and back for all I daydream about flying.

Obviously, if I were worthy then the blessing I gave Lucy two weeks ago would have healed her. I told her as much in the blessing, and at the time I believed those words were coming from God. Now I know that was just the wishful thinking of a sinner pretending to speak for God. For Lucy's sake, I'm grateful her father was there this afternoon. He gave her a real blessing, one that will really count because he's actually worthy to use God's power. The doctors are running tests today and expect to have results tomorrow. Lucy's dad promised her in the blessing that she'll be healed of whatever's afflicting her, and I wouldn't be surprised if the test results show she's already healed.

And, just because it's that kind of day, I just realized I'm late for my date with Jan.

Oops

I just woke up with the terrifying realization that I've made a complete and utter fool of myself. Greg has told me he reads this blog. There's a good chance his sister does as well. You know, the sister who is also a mutant, who I met last night and then gushed here on this blog about how hot she is? Yeah, that one.

I've gotten so used to hiding behind the anonymity of Mormon X that I've forgotten I'm not completely anonymous anymore. I'm such a dork.

So, yeah. Hi Jan! See you tonight? I hope?

Family

Tonight was Family Home Evening. For any non-Mormons who might be reading this, FHE is a weekly gathering with family to discuss the gospel, play games, eat treats, and otherwise strengthen your family. At BYU, singles are grouped together into "families" so that we can still have FHE every week even though we're away from home. It's common for guys and girls from FHE families to hook up, get married, and start families of their own, but of all the girls in my FHE group, the only one I was interested in was Lucy, and she's made it clear she's no longer interested in me now that she knows I'm a mutant--she skipped FHE tonight, no doubt to avoid me. Which is for the best, I guess, since getting married and starting a family isn't really an option for me, as I've mentioned before.

Except.

Except tonight my roommate Greg invited his sister Jan (not her real name) to join us for FHE. Jan is a junior, an engineering major (have I mentioned I have a thing for smart girls?), she's got a wicked sense of humor, and she is HOT. Long black hair, dark eyes, and a big beautiful smile.

Greg introduced Jan to me, saying, "This is the guy I was telling you about." Then he looked at me and said, "I hope that's okay--I told her about you."

I didn't know how to respond. I'd never explicitly told Greg not to tell anyone I'm a mutant, but I thought he understood it was a secret. I felt naked, being introduced to this girl--this hot girl--I'd just met, and having her know things about me that I've only shared with a couple of people. Things that, just three days ago, led a girl I kind of liked to freak out and run as fast as she could in the opposite direction.

Greg must have perceived my discomfort, because he quickly added, "She's the one I told you about."

"Oh." I'd completely forgotten that Greg had told me his sister was a mutant. I didn't know what to say. I'd never met another mutant before. If I thought about it I'd probably have a million questions to ask her, but at the moment all I could think about was the fact that I was face to face with a gorgeous woman who, before even saying a word, already had more in common with me than anyone I'd ever met. I opened my mouth, but no words came out.

Jan grinned, shook my hand, and said, "Welcome to the club."

We didn't talk about mutant stuff at all tonight. We couldn't have even if we wanted to, with the rest of the FHE group there, but we really didn't need to. There was an unspoken understanding between us, like I've never felt with anyone before. We played Win, Lose, or Draw and she was on my team. We totally beat the other team. :)

After FHE Jan mentioned to me, out of earshot of the rest of the group, that she's part of an unofficial club called Understanding Unnatural Power Proclivity that meets on campus on Tuesday nights. I excitedly accepted the invitation to come to tomorrow's meeting, but honestly I'm not sure whether I'm looking forward more to meeting other mutants at BYU, or to seeing Jan again. What I do know is that I have never been more impatient for twenty-two hours to pass.

Fingers Fading On An Electric Guitar

I was hoping to see Lucy at church this morning since I hadn't seen her since our date on Friday night and I was hoping to apologize for unloading my personal problems on  her, but I didn't see her in sacrament meeting. In Sunday school one of her roommates told me she was home sick. Regardless of whatever weirdness there is between us now because of Friday night, I figured as her home teacher it's my responsibility to make sure she's okay, so after church Greg and I stopped by her apartment to see how she was doing.

Lucy was on the couch, watching conference talks on her laptop. She said hi and thanked us for coming, but she didn't look overly enthused to see us. She spoke mostly to Greg, like she was avoiding looking at me. She explained that she was having stomach pain again. She's worried that she might have an ulcer or something. Greg asked if she wanted a blessing. She glanced at me briefly before saying no, she didn't think that was necessary. Greg made her promise to call the doctor first thing in the morning if she wasn't feeling better, and to let us know if she changed her mind about the blessing.

Ugh. I wish my mutant power were time travel. I'd go back to Friday and stop myself from coming out to Lucy. Or better yet, go back to last Sunday and stop myself from agreeing to go on the date in the first place. Or maybe I'd just go back thirty years, before my parents were married, and Marty McFly myself out of existence. At least if I did that, something positive would come out of me being a mutant--the world would be a better place without me.

Busted

Well, that didn't take long. I haven't posted for a couple of days because I kind of freaked out after something happened on Sunday. I'm still getting used to having a "secret identity," and I was bound to screw up sooner or later. Turns out it was sooner.

When I'm on my Mormon X page on Facebook, there's a message on the top that says "You are posting, commenting, and liking as Mormon X — Change to [my real name]." On Saturday I was messing around with things and apparently I changed the setting so that I was posting as myself. I didn't post anything on Saturday after that, so it didn't make a difference, but when I went back on Sunday to put up a link to my new blog post, I didn't realize I was doing it under my real name until after posting. I caught the mistake pretty quickly, deleted it, and then re-posted as Mormon X. I wiped the sweat from my brow, took a deep breath to calm my nerves, and said a silent prayer of thanks that I'd noticed the error right away.

When there was a knock on my bedroom door two seconds later, I literally jumped out of my seat. I closed my browser and opened the door. It was Greg, the roommate who is also my home teaching companion. "What's up?" he said. 

"N-n-nothing," I stammered. My hands were shaking and I was drenched in sweat despite the fact that it's November. I probably looked like I was high on something. 

"Did I just see what I think I saw?" he asked. He went on to explain that he had been on Facebook in the other room when the stalker bar on the right showed "[My Real Name] posted a link to Mormon X." It was only there for a second, but it caught his eye because he'd been following Mormon X since a friend of his from California had posted a link on Wednesday. He'd found my story about Lucy's priesthood blessing on Thursday night strangely familiar, but he figured we weren't the only guys at BYU who had given priesthood blessings to sick girls that night, so he chalked it up to coincidence. Until now. 

He probably saw my face turning green (metaphorically--that's not a mutant power of mine), because he put a hand on my shoulder and said with a goofy grin, "No worries, man. My sister's a mutant. I'm totally on your side."

This was all too much for me--the panic of realizing I'd screwed up, the shock of being found out, the relief of unexpected acceptance. My knees gave out and I dropped to the floor. Greg sat next to me and I just stared at the shaggy orange carpet for a few minutes. Once I calmed down, we talked. He asked about my power, about how it felt to be a mutant at BYU, about how I planned to deal with it for the rest of my life. I didn't feel judged or freakish or anything. I just felt like a guy with a problem. And a friend I could talk to about that problem. 

Thank you for being that friend, Greg.

Real Power

Sometimes God gives you exactly what you need. I spent all day thinking about that stupid flight dream, feeling bad for myself because I can't have what I want, and feeling guilty because what I want is sinful. It's just so hard, once I've had a taste of what it's like, to not want more. Like they say, power is addictive.

Then tonight, as I was trying to read Wuthering Heights for my British novel class but unable to focus because of the stupid dream, someone knocked on my bedroom door. It was one of my roommates. He's also my home teaching companion. One of the girls we home teach had called him asking for a blessing. "She's puking blood," he said with a look of disgust mixed with fascination. I hesitated, considering whether I should make up an excuse and ask him to take one of our other roommates. Was I even worthy to give a priesthood blessing, after spending the day lusting after counterfeit power? But I felt like a jerk asking someone else to do my job, so I said yes, changed into a shirt and tie, and said a quick prayer asking the Lord to forgive my imperfection.

Lucy (not her real name) really looked bad. When we got to her apartment, she was curled up on the couch and moaning, her hands held tightly to her stomach. One roommate sat next to her, holding a cold washcloth to her head. Another roommate explained that Lucy had been miserable all day, getting worse in the past few hours, but she didn't want to go to urgent care because her dad just changed jobs and the new insurance doesn't start until December 1st. She's also stressed because she has a test in the morning she "can't miss" (I think the professor would understand, but Lucy was in no state to be argued with).

After the normal back-and-forth about who's going to do what, Greg (also not his real name) anointed Lucy's head, and then I laid my hands on her to give her a blessing. The blessing started out slow--I never know what to say--but then something switched and it wasn't me speaking anymore. It was God, speaking through me. He assured her that he loved her (and I felt in that moment that the message was for me as much as her), told her not to worry about the test because everything would work out according to his will, and finally commanded her to be healed. As I spoke those words, I felt God's power flow through me, out my fingertips, and into her. It was like an electric shock.

When I opened my eyes, Lucy was a completely different person than the one I'd laid hands on. She'd stopped trembling, her face was no longer pale, and her breathing had calmed. She smiled at me and squeezed my hands. "Thank you," she said softly. I heard in her voice the same surety I felt, that she had in fact been healed by the power of the priesthood.

Suddenly, flight has lost its appeal. Who needs mutant powers when you've got REAL power?