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.

Gray

Life used to be much simpler:

• Mutant powers=Bad. 
• Priesthood power=Good. 
• LDS Church=Right. 
• X-Men=Wrong. 
• Mutant marriage=Not An Option. 
• Lifelong celibacy=As Good As It Gets.

Then Jan came into my life, and now Lucy, and suddenly the lines are blurred. 

But you know what? The black-and-white picture I had of the world was always just an illusion. It's like old, pre-color TV shows. Everyone calls them "black and white," but in reality they're filled with grays. If you only use black and white to make a picture, the best you can do is a two-dimensional cartoon. It's the grays that give life depth. 

Today's Inspirational Story

The surgery went well. My mom will likely take a few weeks to recover, but she'll be fine. No mutant powers were involved so the priesthood blessing must have worked.

Or, you know, the surgery just worked, the same as it does for the majority of people who have it done sans blessing.

Ugh. I'd make a horrible EFY speaker.

O Me of Little Faith

My mom's health has never been good, so it wasn't a complete shock when my sister called this afternoon to tell me Mom is in the hospital. She's had back problems before, leg issues, a weird circulatory condition, and chronic migraines, but this time it's her stomach giving her problems. Apparently some kind of blockage in her intestine. They're removing it surgically tonight.

"Don't worry," Marsha told me, "Mom's home teachers have already stopped by to give her a blessing. She'll be okay."

How horrible is it that my first thought was I wonder how quickly Jan could get to Arizona? Four months ago I had no doubt that real power lies in the priesthood and that mutant powers like Jan and I have are counterfeit. But how many blessings did Lucy receive? Yet she just got worse and worse until Jan healed her. Using her "counterfeit" power.

I know, I know. God answers prayers through his servants. Jan's power is the tool God used to fulfill the promises he made in all those priesthood blessings Lucy received. It's no less miraculous than if a doctor had found a cure as a result of a patient's faithful prayers. I'm the one who made that argument two months ago.

But still. I'd sleep better tonight if Jan were in Arizona with my mom.

The Lottery

I don't even know where to start. I've tried writing this post about ten times in the past five days, and I just couldn't. So here goes try number eleven, I guess.

Jan is gone. Not dead. Gone. Gone from my life. I'm sad and lonely and angry, but I don't have anyone to be angry at. Except myself, maybe. And maybe if I weren't so selfish, I'd be happy--for Jan, and for the world.

It was Sunday morning when she woke up. She just opened her eyes, sat up, and said, "I'm hungry." I laughed, gave her a hug, and got the nurse to bring Jan some food. A few minutes later, she was scarfing down a plate of scrambled eggs, hash browns, toast, and apple juice.

"Did you know that was going to knock you out for four days?" I asked.

"It happened the last two times I tried something this big." She took a big bite, then continued while chewing: "What, did you think I was just ignoring you for three days after I healed you at the Wilk?"

I shrugged. "Yeah."

Jan laughed. "No, it just wears me out. I guess that's the price, you know? Everything comes with a price."

"Another reason not to go around using your power all the time, then."

She nodded. "Yeah. Except..."

"Except?"

She turned to me, her face glowing. "X, I've never felt this good in my entire life. I mean, I feel like I haven't eaten in days because I guess I haven't, but spiritually, I feel like I just won the lottery. I saved Lucy's life. It's what God wanted me to do, I know it. You were right. God wants me to use my power to help people."

I couldn't help smiling. Her mood was contagious. "Everyone's going to want to be your friend. The best life insurance around."

Jan set her fork down and her smile faded. "You don't understand, X. My power isn't just for me, or even just for my friends and family. God gave me this power to bless the world. I can't go on living my life while people are dying. Life is a precious gift. Our Heavenly Father wants me to preserve it--every life I can."

"What are you saying?" My smile was gone now too. "You're just going to go around..."

"Finding people to heal? Yeah. How many people in this hospital are dying? How many can I save?"

"What about school? What about your life?" I didn't ask what about us because I didn't want to hear the answer.

"This is going to be my life, X. I'm dedicating my life to God, to serving his children."

Suddenly the chair I'd been sitting in all week felt oppressively confining. I jumped to my feet. "And you just decided this now, in the ten minutes since you woke up? You're not thinking clearly, Jan."

"No." She offered a loving smile in return for my anger. "I made the decision while I was unconscious. My body was here, but-- I don't want to say I had a vision, but it was definitely a spiritual experience. I know more than anything I've ever known in my life, this is what I'm supposed to do. This is my calling."

With that, she stood up, gave me a warm but annoyingly sisterly kiss on the cheek, and walked out of the room. I was left there reeling, unable to make sense of what had just happened. By the time I gathered my senses enough to go after her, she had found a coma patient down the hall. The patient was awake and healthy, and Jan was on the floor, unconscious. Again.

When Jan woke up again yesterday, news reporters were waiting. You've probably seen the reports. When she explained her new life purpose to them, someone got a helicopter to take her up to Primary Children's Hospital in Salt Lake, where she healed a kid with Leukemia. I guess there's a waiting list now, of people for her to cure each time she wakes up from the last one. I see people on Facebook and in the news talking about how her power is of the devil and it's unnatural and it's a perversion of the priesthood, but as far as I can tell none of the people she's cured or their families are complaining. People on the waiting list are happy to pay for Jan's stay at the hospital, for her food and whatever else she needs, just for the chance that she'll heal their loved one.

My attempts at anonymity are increasingly meaningless as Jan's real name is spread across the internet, but I'm going to keep calling her "Jan" here because... well, I guess because I can't let go of her. Her real name belongs to the world now, just as she does, but "Jan" will always be mine.

It's barely been a day since this all went public and already I saw an article saying that public opinion of mutants in Utah is on the upswing, all because of Jan. So not only is Jan dedicating her life to helping people who need it, but she's also indirectly helping all of mutantkind. She's a hero. I should be proud of her. And I am, really. But I also can't help feeling that I've been left behind. Maybe Jan won the lottery, but I definitely lost.

Mysterious Ways

Think for a moment about sex. (If you're like most people, you were already thinking about sex, so I'm not asking much.) Sex can be a bad thing. If a man rapes a woman, it's bad. If a teenage girl who isn't ready to raise a child gets pregnant, it's bad. If a guy has a porn addiction, it's bad. If a woman uses sex to manipulate her lover, it's bad. But sex can also be a good thing. Sex can strengthen the intimacy between a married couple. Sex can create bodies to bring spirits into the world. And, I hear, sex can be a lot of fun.

The more I think about it, the more I think mutant powers are like sex. If you use them to hurt people, or to gain fame and glory for yourself, then they are bad. But if you use them to help people and you give the glory to God, maybe they can be good. I mean, God made me, mutant power and all, and God doesn't make bad things. If I hadn't used my power to fly myself, Chenry, and Tara out of that explosion on Christmas Eve, we'd all three be dead. And if Jan hadn't used her power to heal us, we could just as easily be dead, or crippled, or scarred for life. No matter how I look at it, I cannot see how using our powers that day was a bad thing. Our mortal existence is a precious gift from our Heavenly Father, and I believe he wants us to do whatever we can to make the most of it.

I've been thinking about the blessing I gave Lucy back in November, and the one her father gave her not long after that. We both promised her that she would be healed. On the one hand I could look at where Lucy is now, literally on her deathbed, and say, "Boy, were we wrong. I guess priesthood blessings don't work." Or, I could trust that God inspired us to make that promise, and ask how he plans to fulfill it. Sometimes a blessing promises that you'll be healed, and then bam, you're healed--as if by magic. Other times, a doctor is inspired to prescribe the right medication or do the right test, and that's how God heals you, through the "magic" of modern science. And maybe sometimes, God heals you through his sons or daughters who happen to have mutant powers--powers that he gave them. Maybe sometimes, through a random chain of events that involve your home teacher coming out to you as a mutant and later introducing you to his mutant girlfriend, God puts the one person in your life who has the power to fulfill his promise to heal you.

Now I just need to convince Jan that she is that person.

Steadying the Ark

Spent yesterday feeling bad for being so negative and critical. I like BYU, I know the Honor Code Office exists for a reason, and it's not my job to tell them how to do theirs. And above all, I believe in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I know that this is the true church and that the priesthood restored through Joseph Smith and Oliver Cowdery is the only true and legitimate power of God. Reading over some of my posts from the past few weeks, I'm not sure that testimony comes across, so I want to make it clear. I do have my doubts now and then, but I do my best to follow Elder Uchtdorf's counsel to doubt my doubts.

This morning I took Brother Simmons' advice and confessed to my bishop that I had acted out on my mutant power last week. He was very kind and understanding, and assured me that Heavenly Father loves me and had already forgiven me. I told him about my (now-defunct) relationship with Jan too, since her bishop had been so concerned about us dating. My bishop says that while he understands the other bishop's concern and Jan should definitely follow her priesthood leader's counsel, he doesn't think it's necessarily a bad thing for me to date, even to date other mutants. He reminded me that it is not good for man to be alone, that it's natural to want companionship and to want someone special in my life. While the Church currently does not condone mutant marriage (yes, he used the word "currently"), he thinks it's healthy for me to form positive relationships with members of the opposite sex, so long as we respect appropriate boundaries. He even said it makes sense for me to date other LDS mutants, since they cannot marry either and we can support each other in our goals to control our powers righteously.

I left that meeting with my bishop on a spiritual high. I know my Heavenly Father loves me and that he will prepare a way for me to find happiness within his kingdom.

Remember Thy Suffering Saints

I checked in on Lucy today. She's not doing well. As the doctors predicted, the chemotherapy has done little good, if any--the cancer was too far spread already. All the chemo has done is mess with Lucy's body. She's skinny, weak, tired, has no immune system, and no hair. Her family spent New Year's Eve with her at the hospital. The sad thing is, it will probably be her last.

If I have any non-Mormon readers, you're probably wondering why I don't just ask Jan to use her healing power on Lucy. To be honest, I've considered the idea more than once. How can I see one friend suffering, know that another friend has the power to heal her, and not consider it? But it's just not an option. Even if she were talking to me right now, Jan wouldn't do it. She's already on probation with the Honor Code Office and I don't know what came of her bishop looking into a potential disciplinary council--meaning not only her status as a BYU student but also as a member of the Church are at risk. But all that stuff aside, what it comes down to is Jan's core faith in a God of order. Our Heavenly Father has an established way of doing things, and that includes the holy priesthood that he restored through Joseph Smith. If Lucy is going to be healed, it will be through the power of the priesthood. Otherwise, it's not God's will. For Jan or anyone else to step in and do something using a power that doesn't come from God would go against his will, and would be a corruption of the natural order of things.

I know this is true.

But still, as I sat next to Lucy and looked into her eyes, red from crying and sunken into a face slowly wasting away, I can't help but wonder how that much suffering could ever be God's will.

Thy Will Be Done

Well, Jan is alive. If it were up to her, I wouldn't know that, but thankfully a higher power intervened. I've been worried about her since Tuesday and when I worry I run, so I've been doing a lot of running. Typically I stick to my usual route south of campus, but this evening I had the inclination to run north, to the temple. I'm glad I listened to that inclination because that's where I found Jan--at the temple.

Photo credit: http://christiwilliams.blogspot.com/

I was jogging up that hill--I've had more energy this week than I've ever had in my life--when I noticed someone standing in the middle of the snowy field between the temple and the MTC. Someone who looked like Jan. I ran through the snow, excitedly calling her name once I got close enough to confirm it was her.

"We shouldn't see each other anymore," she said as I approached.

"What? Why?"

"I'm a bad influence on you. I'm a bad person."

I shook my head. "Because you saved my life?"

"You wouldn't have died. You'd just be horribly disfigured and possibly crippled for life."

I searched for signs of a smile but found none. I still think she was joking.

Jan folded her arms across her chest. "The point is, I should have had faith that God would take care of you. I should have waited for the paramedics to arrive. I should have, I dunno, called your home teacher or something. Instead I took things into my own hands." She held out her hands and stared at them like they were vile. "For all I know, it was your time to die. Or it was part of God's plan for you to be crippled or disfigured, because you needed to learn something from that experience. You know how when men give priesthood blessings, they always say, 'if it be Thy will' or 'according to God's will'? My power doesn't give a crap what God's will is. It takes one of the most sacred powers of the priesthood--healing--and does it without regard to what God wants. What I did to you, it's horrible. It's unforgivable. It's..." She turned away from me. "It's why my dad doesn't ever want to see me again."

This made me angry--at her dad and at her. "What, so you just decided for me that I wouldn't ever want to see you again either? Don't you think that's a little condescending? Did it occur to you that I've been worried sick about you? And I'm sorry, but I refuse to believe in a God who wants me dead or crippled. Maybe he would have let it happen, but he also let you happen. He let you be there when I needed you, and he let you heal me. Don't you think he could have stopped you if he wanted to?"

"I don't know. I don't know what God wants. Whatever connection I once had with Him has been cut. That's why I'm here. I'm not worthy to go inside anymore--I still have my recommend but I know I'm not worthy--so this is the closest I can get. But it's not working. I still feel nothing. I pray and pray, but there's no answer."

I touched her elbow. "He sent me."

I smiled and she smiled back, albeit tentatively.

"I just need some time to figure things out, X. Can you give me that?"

Reluctantly, I agreed. We talked for a few more minutes, then I continued on with my jog. Now I feel sick. I fear I made a horrible mistake, and I'll regret it for the rest of my life. Did I give up too easily? Should I have insisted that we figure things out together? Ugh. Why are relationships so hard? Why is everything so hard?

Cancer

Lucy has been diagnosed with stomach cancer. Apparently it's at an advanced stage and has already spread all over. The doctors give her between two months and two years.

I'm trying hard to have faith. Yesterday Lucy's dad promised her in the blessing he gave her that she would be healed. He wouldn't have been inspired to say that if it weren't true. Maybe Heavenly Father is just testing our faith now, before the miracle.

I can't help thinking, though, that I'm the one being tested, and that Lucy is suffering because of my failings. I have a hard time seeing how that's fair.

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.

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.

Follow-Up

Just a quick check-in: I stopped by Lucy's apartment this afternoon to see how she's doing. She says she's feeling healthier than ever, and she aced that test this morning.

Life is good. God is good.

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?

Brave

I’m trying to be brave, but honestly I’m terrified. Okay, here goes: I am—

No, I’m not going to start with that. That’s not what comes first. This is what comes first: I am a Mormon. I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I know that my Redeemer lives and that by his grace we are made whole. I believe that Christ restored his true church to the earth nearly two hundred years ago, through the prophet Joseph Smith. I believe that through him the keys of the priesthood were returned to humankind, and that priesthood power is God’s power. Anything else is counterfeit. I sustain Thomas S. Monson, the living prophet, and I know that “The Priesthood: A Proclamation to the World” is God’s word. I have a testimony that “priesthood power is central to the Creator’s plan for the eternal destiny of His children.”

And I wish that were all. I wish with all my heart I could stop there. But there’s more. The other part is incredibly hard for me to say, and in fact I’ve never said it before—not publicly, not like this—but just as I know that the Lord lives, I know this is what he wants me to do. I’ve been toying with the idea for a few months now, but the confirmation came today while I was walking across BYU campus, listening to my iPod (okay, I admit, I’m a little antisocial). The Sara Bareilles song “Brave” came on, and when she sang these words, it was as the voice of God speaking directly to me:

And since your history of silence
Won’t do you any good,
Did you think it would?
Let your words be anything but empty
Why don’t you tell them the truth?

I stopped walking, right there between the library and the JFSB. I think a girl bumped into me because I’d stopped so suddenly. But I wasn’t paying attention to anyone around me. All I could do was listen to Sara Bareilles telling me to say what I wanna say, to let the words fall out, to be brave. I need to talk about this because, as much as it feels like I’m the only person in the world who feels this way, I know I can’t be. And if others feel as alone as I do, then maybe Heavenly Father can speak to them through me, to let them know he loves them, just as he’s let me know that. 

Okay, now I’m ready to say it. This is the other part, the part I couldn’t say before: I’m a mutant. Yes, you read that right. I’m a mutant, and I’m also a Mormon. Now, I know that’s not the terminology I’m supposed to use. Believe me, I know. I’ve been seeing counselors at LDS Family Services for the past seven years (apart from the two I was on a mission) in order to overcome my “unnatural power proclivity” or “UPP.” But I hate those terms. That’s not who I am. I am a mutant. For whatever reason, I have powers that humans are not meant to have. I didn’t do anything to get these powers; I just have them. Does that mean I’m going to run out and join the X-Men? No, of course not. To do so would be to betray the other part of me, the first part. First, I am a Mormon. Like Nephi, I was born of goodly parents, and I know that any power that does not come from God, that is not priesthood power, comes from the Adversary. It’s hard sometimes, knowing I have this power at my fingertips and choosing not to use it, but I know that as I continue to put my faith in God, he will give me the strength I need to resist temptation. With God, all things are possible. 

I know this isn’t a popular position. I’m as afraid of backlash from my fellow mutants as I am from my fellow Mormons. To my brothers and sisters in the mutant community, let me assure you that I support your right to exercise your mutant powers according to your beliefs, so long as you aren’t hurting anyone. But as for me, I will follow the Lord’s path. The only power I need is priesthood power.