Conference Weekend: Day 2

So. Conference is over. Marsha's cinnamon rolls were great, as usual. Which is a good thing, because I was feeling pretty crappy after fasting all day yesterday.

As far as the answers I was looking for? Results inconclusive. There were a bunch of talks that I liked, that made me want to be a better person. This weekend I saw an article about how LDS General Conference is like a bunch of TED talks, and I'd say that's a pretty accurate assessment. It's ten hours of motivational speakers, which is why everyone always feels so motivated after Conference. But the thing is, I want more. An ex-Mormon friend of mine once shared a graphic making fun of General Conference. It says "Come listen to a prophet, seer & revelator do none of those things." I don't particularly like the graphic because it's cynical and it's mean, but to be completely honest, it's true.

I remember growing up, twice a year I'd get excited for Conference, anxious for there to be some big revelation or prophecy. And what I got, every time, was motivational talks. If you read the Doctrine & Covenants, you'll see that Joseph Smith spoke directly for God all the time. Everything he did was revelation. And now, forgive me for being disrespectful, but we get stories about bringing dinner to little old ladies. Inspirational, yes, but revelation? No.

More than anything, I wish someone at Conference would speak directly to me. When I was a kid, the topic of mutants was never even mentioned. Now it's a regular thing, but nobody is talking to mutants. They're just talking about us. About how mutants are corrupting the moral fabric of society. How we're trying to change the definition of marriage. How it may not be popular to speak out against mutants, but it's the right thing to do. Nobody says, "Welcome, mutants! You are part of God's kingdom." Instead, we are constantly The Other.

It all leaves me feeling like I have no place in the church. Like I don't belong. And I'm starting to think that maybe that's my answer: When all is said and done, I don't belong in the church.

Conference Weekend: Day 0

Add this to your list of Stupid Things To Fight With Your Girlfriend About: Where to watch General Conference. I assumed we'd go to my sister Marsha's place in Saratoga Springs because that's what I've done twice a year for the past three years, plus the year before my mission. Lucy assumed we'd watch it at her parents' place in Orem since that's what she's done twice a year for her entire life. Both reasonable arguments, I have to admit. Things got tense for a while, we nearly decided just to spend the weekend separately, but then we decided that was stupid and came up with a compromise: Saturday in Orem and Sunday in Saratoga Springs. Lucy's happy because Saturday is when her mom makes the traditional breakfast casserole, and I'm happy because Sunday is when Marsha and I make the traditional cinnamon rolls.

Source: http://www.myregisblog.com/2012/03/lol-cats-general-conference.html

I'm glad we got that resolved because I really want to be in the right frame of mind this weekend. I fully intend to follow Chenry's advice and make this a weekend of prayer, fasting (maybe between the casserole and the cinnamon rolls?), and sincere meditation. I'm doing everything I can to set aside my doubts and my cynicism and be open to whatever God wants to tell me. I figure if I'm headed in the wrong direction, this is God's chance to slap me in the face and turn me around. I'm absolutely open to wherever he wants me to go. If you're the praying type, please pray for me.

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.

Christmas

I was feeling bummed about not having money to fly home for Christmas, but it's turning out to be a blessing in disguise.

First, I got to be in Utah for this historic weekend with all the mutant marriage celebrations going on--Jan and I drove up to Salt Lake again tonight for a big rally at the City & County Building, which was a lot of fun. A mutant couple got married at the rally and others were using their powers openly. Some made fireworks with their hands, others danced in the air, and shape-shifters did impersonations of public figures. I'm not going apostate or anything--all that stuff's not for me--but I was happy to see mutants so comfortable just being themselves in public.

Second, I get to hang out with FOX tomorrow. Chenry, Tara, and Galadriel are all local, so we're going to have our usual Tuesday morning meeting. I doubt anyone else will be on campus, but we can still meet in Tara's office. My writing group is among my favorite people in the world, and it's really great to be around non-mutants who know all about me but love me anyway. When we were talking about whether or not to meet tomorrow, Galadriel joked, "Aren't you going to be busy getting mutant-married?" I told her maybe she should go marry one of her many mutant friends.

Third, I get to spend Christmas with Marsha and her family. I love playing around with her kids, and the truth is I'm closer to Marsha now than I am to my mom. I'm headed over to their place tomorrow night so that the kids can wake me up bright and early on Christmas morning.

Finally, being in Utah means I get to spend Christmas with Jan. She had a falling out with her father over the mutant thing a few years back, and she isn't exactly welcome at home anymore. I think it's sad, but she says she's over it by now. Still, I'm glad she doesn't have to spend the holidays alone. And I'm even gladder that I'm the lucky guy she's going to grace with her company. Marsha has invited Jan to Christmas with us, so Jan will sleep in my niece's room while I bunk with the boys.

All in all, I'm thinking this just may end up being the best Christmas ever.

Saturday

I bet you're wondering what a Latter-day Mutant does on Saturdays. Do we spend the day agonizing over the contradiction of our existence? Do we spend it on our knees trying to pray the mutant away? Do we run around using our powers to rape and pillage? Actually, I'm hanging out with my niece and nephews while my sister and brother-in-law do some Christmas shopping. We built a fort out of couch cushions and blankets, watched Phineas and Ferb, and I'm about to cook quesadillas for lunch. Pretty intense stuff. This afternoon and evening I plan to write a ten-page paper explaining why Wuthering Heights is a hundred times better than Jane Eyre. Maybe if I finish the paper before midnight, I'll reward myself with a bowl of BYU Creamery ice cream.

And that, my friends, is the mutant agenda.

Thanksgiving

I am exhausted after spending the day at my sister Marsha's house in Saratoga Springs. I helped cook, we ate, I played with the kids, we napped, we ate some more, we played some more, I helped put the kids to bed, we hung out late into the night. And ate some more. It was after my niece and nephews were in bed upstairs, my brother-in-law was downstairs watching ESPN, and Marsha and I were each enjoying our fifth slice of pie for the day while playing Rummikub, that out of the blue I said, "I'm a mutant." I don't know what I was thinking. I guess I was feeling bold after chatting with Greg several times this week. And I'm tired of hiding such a big part of myself from the people I love most.

Marsha picked up a tile. "I know," she said nonchalantly.

I did a double-take. "You know? How do you know? Did Mom tell you?"

"No." She laughed. "I tried to talk to Mom about it once and she vehemently denied it. But it's totally obvious. You walk like a mutant, you talk like a mutant, you might as well be wearing a black jacket with a big yellow X on it."

I tried to get her to explain what walking and talking like a mutant meant exactly, but she said it's like porn--she can't describe it, but she knows it when she sees it. But the important thing is that it really didn't matter to her. We talked about my anxiety and my fears, and she reassured me several times that she still loves me, that I'm still her brother.

I'm starting to think that maybe some of my fears are unfounded. People are more open-minded than I give them credit for--even Mormons. Maybe I don't need to hide anymore. I don't know. But I do know that talking with Greg earlier this week, and then talking with Marsha tonight, has lifted a huge burden off my shoulders. It's such a relief to be able to share this stuff that I've been carrying alone for so long.

All in all, a great Thanksgiving. I've got plenty to be thankful for this year.