a prayer

I found this in my journal, written about the time I'm at in the story. I was trying so hard to be good...

Father, again this Sabbath day...I place my worldly desires upon the altar as a sacrifice unto thee. I do not understand why I must have these desires, but I accept them as a part of me, knowing it is a weakness thou hast given me to help me turn to thee and seek thy support, through the mercy of thy Son.

Father, please, if it be thy will for me, help me to understand how this weakness may be made into a strength, as thou hast said. Help me to love thy daughters as thou does, not with a desire for physical comfort and gratification, but with concern for their happiness, their well-being, and their progress. Help me, through my example and my righteous desires, to lead them back to thee.

Please bless me this week, that thy spirit may refine my thoughts and help me to make them pure and good. Please change my heart, that I might be born again, having no more desire to do evil, but to do good continually.

no illustration necessary

Poor Alex. In all her desire to be good and obedient, she misses out on the stuff that really makes a person feel alive. I got her a sniff of that MJ pheromone. And I would have done more if there hadn’t been people around.

MJ showed up at church on Sunday, apparently, and one of the nieces talked her into giving her a ride home. She also bulldozed her into coming inside for a minute. She was wearing her brown sweater again—the one that fits snugly and makes her look like she has bigger breasts than she does. I don’t have any idea why she wears a sweater when it’s a hundred degrees outside, but I don’t care because the sweater looks amazing on her. And she knows it.

So I greeted her with a little smirk. She seemed happy—almost playful. So I knew I could get away with…stuff. If I wanted. She was standing at the top of the stairs as I was coming up, and I stopped momentarily at the step just below where she was standing, and I got really close to her so that my nose was nearly touching her chest, and I drew a nice slow intake of breath, and then I smiled and told her I missed that smell, and went on past her into the kitchen without looking back. It was blissful. I doubt anybody saw. And if she didn’t like it she shouldn’t show up where I live. But I think she did like it. And so did Alex.

fantasy

Since this is my very own blog, and I can freely write anything I want here, may I share a little fantasy with you?

Recently a fellow blogger that I read put up a poll: eat to live or live to eat? Like you might expect, most readers who commented were in favor of live to eat. In other words, they enjoy food and eating. I admit, I like to be different, go against the crowd, dance to the beat of a different drummer...you get the idea. And I commented that I am more about eating as a way to sustain life. It’s a bother. I have to stop what I’m doing to refuel, and I wish I could just take a pill and that would be it. And that’s mostly how I feel. I’m a social eater. I like to eat with people. I like to listen to chatter as I eat. I think it’s way more enjoyable that way.

I have a friend or two who like to cook. There’s one in particular who is all about cooking. She experiments, she rallies her children and family and neighbor kids around to help, she reads cooking blogs, enters cooking contests, collects kitchen tools, knows all sorts of little tips and tricks, and is writing a recipe book. She’s fanatical, and I love it. It’s her passion. I enjoy people with passion. She even has a blog, where she takes pictures of the process, like a cookbook, describes the steps, and then shows pictures of the finished product. She’s an artist, really. The pictures of her creations are delightful and mouthwatering works of art.

So I often have this fantasy, after reading her blog posts, of being her husband, and having the table set perfectly for the two of us, and her inviting me to the table and placing these beautiful creations in front of me to marvel at and to relish. And we eat together, and share the happenings of the day, and I compliment her on her ability to produce such marvelous things. It’s a nice daydream. I often tease her that she should be my personal chef, but she already has a husband...

Tip: Make food for Alex and she will love you.

about Alex

It appears that those random "25 things about me" lists on Facebook have moved on, for which I am glad. They were interesting, but they got old. And I am happy to say that I did not jump on that bandwagon. I despise following the crowd. However, I have sort of kept a list of my own, which you may find interesting or amusing or whatever. It's 40 things. I'm going to post it now.

1. I am hungry almost all the time, but eating is a royal pain in my a--.
2. Actually, it’s preparing food that irritates me more. If food is set in front of me, I’ll eat it.
3. I never go anywhere without cinnamon Altoids. Also only chew cinnamon gum.
4. Animals (and children, usually) love me. So do mosquitos.
5. I drink a LOT of water.
6. If I don’t exercise regularly, I have problems with my back, my feet, my digestion and my moods.
7. I have to floss my teeth or I get sores on the roof of my mouth.
8. Overdosing on orange juice cures the common cold.
9. Routine and process are comfortable for me.
10. I am almost always imagining. There are new characters in my mind every day.
11. With me, what you see is generally what you get.
12. I must have occupation to keep me happy. Being bored makes me depressed.
13. I like puzzles.
14. I am very organized. I have a weakness for buying organizational tools. Everything must have its place.
15. Which may reveal the fact that I deal with mild OCD.
16. I think I love my nieces and nephews more than anything else in the world.
17. My fingernails must be short. Toenails too. And no polish.
18. I dislike being barefoot or showing my feet.
19. Also hate anything between my toes, which means no flip-flops or toe rings.
20. I don’t wear jewelry. Or makeup.
21. People tell me I don’t need it and that I’m pretty anyway. :)
22. I like short hair. I would love to shave my head but I don’t want to look “butch.”
23. I like long hair on other people, but it must stay attached to the scalp, or it’s icky.
24. I love to travel and see new places.
25. Believe it or not, I’m very social. Though I have anti-social times.
26. I can be freakishly violent toward grasshoppers.
27. It’s because I like to grow plants, and I don’t grow them for the insects to eat.
28. I find weeding relaxing.
29. Warner Brothers taught me violence and Disney taught me about happy endings. Which I still believe in, but I’m skeptical.
30. I have the attention span of a 10 year-old.
31. In my mind I’m still 24.
32. I only ingest carbonated drinks when I don’t feel good.
33. I keep friends for a long, long time.
34. My feet never stink.
35. Though, to me, my perspiration smells like onions.
36. I do wear deodorant, though it’s the natural kind, without aluminum. Because I’m afraid of Alzheimer’s.
37. My wardrobe is made up mostly of T-shirts.
38. I have never broken a bone.
39. I prefer cooler weather.
40. I have sometimes wanted to be a bird. Though I've never liked that the male is prettier than the female.

sniff sniff

I guess there will just be days when I miss her. Or at least her smell. And her smile.

Last night I was watching some British television before going to sleep and one of my little nieces crawled into bed with me. Just to have the comfort of being next to another warm body, I guess (which I can completely relate to). And she sweetly told me how good I smelled. I had just colored and washed my hair. It made me think of MJ, and how much I enjoyed her smell...or at least that scent you detect when you're really close to someone's neck...and how long it had been since I'd had a whiff of it. It made me a little sad, right then. I missed it. I contemplated letting her know. But I didn't. Probably good.

Then she showed up at church today, which is unusual, since she's moved away now and attends a different ward, wearing brown (which I love her in), and I wondered if she had come just to torture me.

But it didn't end up being torture. Except that I sat next to her in our last class and didn't even get a hint of that smell I was looking for. Unfortunately all that I was able to smell was the breath of the sister on my other side. Ah well. Thank goodness for memories, right?

funk

I guess it's time for an update. I've been in a funk (see definition #3) lately (weeks, it seems), but it appears that the fog is lifting. That's nice for a change. I really can't pinpoint the source of said funk, so I'll blame it on astrology or something. Maybe the planets have been out of whack. Lots of people I know seem to have been experiencing funkiness.

But I'm writing again, and that's a good sign. The MJ story is coming along. (If you don't know the link to that, let me know and I'll enlighten you.)

proposition 8

I know this is a touchy topic. I realize I'm entering dangerous ground. But I feel like I have to stand up for what I believe. I know that what I write may not be well-received by some, but I still need to say it. Not because anyone asked my opinion; just because I need to. It may be popular to stand with what seems like the majority right now, but popularity was important to me in high school. I'm more in pursuit of respect these days.

I am a firm believer that marriage between a man and a woman is ordained of God, and is the only type of marriage that He sanctions. Despite dealing with same gender attraction (which I also experience), there are many opposite gender couples that manage a successful marriage and enjoy full activity in the LDS church. That's where I want to be. I think I could be happy there. I hope I could be. I don't ever want to be without the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints or its culture. Sure, there are a lot of messed up people in its ranks, but that is my home, and I love so many of the people. But I love the Savior more, and it is His church and His kingdom on the earth. That's where I want to be found when He decides to visit the earth again.

Sometimes, seeing the ground that the gay advocates have gained is discouraging. But I like this quote I found on another blog: "The depressing feeling of inevitability is precisely what advocates of gay marriage want to instill in their opponents. But rely­ing as many do on historical determinism—'Side with us because we're going to win' — suggests that gay marriage advocates have run out of arguments. It also demonstrates historical amnesia. Arguments from historical inevitability have often been assumed by millions—to take two examples, the inevitability of Communism and the death of religion—and yet have proven to be wrong." That reminds me of these verses from the Book of Mormon: "Now it is not common that the voice of the people desireth anything contrary to that which is right; but it is common for the lesser part of the people to desire that which is not right; therefore this shall ye observe and make it your law—to do your business by the voice of the people. And if the time comes that the voice of the people doth choose iniquity, then is the time that the judgments of God will come upon you; yea, then is the time he will visit you with great destruction even as he has hitherto visited this land (Mosiah 29:26-27, emphasis added).

I live with children (six of them), I teach children, and I love children. My belief in the traditional family is based on this love I have for children. I believe that each one of them born into this world deserves both a father and a mother: two parents of opposite and complimentary gender. God designed it that way. I am acutely aware that in life, things don't always work out the way God planned it. I know that children are conceived every day, and some of them are born and die before they are allowed to live, some of them who get to live are abandoned and abused, and some grow up in less-than-desirable and even regrettable circumstances. Bad stuff happens and we all have questioned why. I get it. I am not the product of a perfect LDS family (who is?), but I see the model of the perfect family, and I like that idea. I don't see any reason why I shouldn't shoot for that goal (except on days when I am hopeless and discouraged).

My mother married when she was 16, to a man who was unable to participate with her in creating children. So she did what any mentally disabled woman desperate to have a child would do: she found a clinic and got artificial insemination. That man she married, who agreed to this procedure because she promised she would keep it a secret and that the child would be known to their families as his child, had no idea that she would fail to keep that secret within just a few years, and take that child (that would be me, at this point) away to experience new fathers (six in all) and step-siblings and homes. He did not know that he would never really be a part of my life. So yes, I grew up in less-than-desirable circumstances, and I survived. Lots of us survive, with or without religion. But I for one am glad to have had my religion--my faith. Yes, I wonder all the time what it might have been like to have a different family, different childhood. Many times I have wished it could have been different. But I think all we can do is the best that we can with what we've been allotted.

Back to my topic. I want what's best for the children. And I will continue to support any person or organization who will defend the traditional model of marriage and family. Mar­riage is inescapably connected to children and thus family, and family is inescapably connected to society. That's just how I see it.

I'm 38 years old and I've never been married. I may never marry in this life. I may not get to experience the happiness that comes from being one (not in the codependent sense) with another human being. But I will. If I do my best. If I do what God wants me to do, I will be happy. I will have all the happy I can handle.

That's what I believe today. (Ask me tomorrow and I may not feel as confident. That's why I put it in writing.) Enough said.