The holiday season has always been my favorite time of year.  Between coming up with funny halloween costumes (and then convincing my husband to go along with them) and gathering with friends and family during the Christmas season, I feel more excited and edified than any other time of year.  It's also special because I get to celebrate the anniversary of my baptism on December 21st.  

But one thing has always lingered around this time of year just as it did the year I got baptized.  Leading up to my baptismal date, I was overwhelmed with feelings of unworthiness and inadequacy. As I drove to the chapel on the date of my baptism, I was overcome with feelings of not being worthy enough or ready enough or informed enough.  At every light I battled with whether or not I should pull a u-turn and run back home to hide (because they'd never look for me there).  But I made it to the chapel and I got baptized and I thought I'd never have those feelings ever again.

Despite the joy, relief, and spiritual cleanliness I felt, every year since has been just the same.  I haven't questioned the decision to get baptized, but rather if I'm even worth the trouble.  It's during this time of year that I feel keenly how I've let friends down, how I have fallen short at work, how I'm positively failing at my calling, and how truly unworthy I am of the Savior's grace.  I think another year has come and gone since my baptism and I still don't feel like I'm in "first place" yet.   

Lucky for me, the Savior doesn't particularly care if I feel worthy, rather if I am worthy, but the feeling persists.  I feel it with especial force when I think of all the people in the world who are far more noble and kind and influential than I am.  Wouldn't it be more effective to have them accept the gospel of Jesus Christ? And then use their influence to share it's restored message with the world?  Why in the world would our Father in Heaven pick me and my sin-sick soul to accept baptism and be confirmed by the Holy Ghost?  I'm a nobody... 

Now that I've been a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints for four years (plus a few days), I can hardly consider myself a "recent convert." My joke that since I got baptized at 18, I'm the spiritual equivalent of a 12-year-old is starting to not be so funny, and I'm starting to really stress when I'm in Gospel Doctrine class on Sunday and I have only a vague idea of what's going on. 

Like many of you, I easily fall into the trap of getting after myself for not being perfect, especially spiritual things.  Common thoughts include:

• "You've been around for four years. Why aren't you a scriptorian yet?" 
• "You're the temple and family history consultant.  If you don't provide a heart-turning experience for everyone in the ward every week you're not actually fulfilling your calling." 
• "When are you going to get around to having children?" 
• "Why aren't you in a graduate program? You must have peaked early. Dummy." 

And a lot more, because I have a mind that never suffers from "how-has-Sarah-screwed-up-today"-block.  But I don't want this post to be all about how mopey I feel sometimes.  When I first started writing and building this blog, I wanted it to be a source of inspiration, edification, and information for all people-- member or not, convert or not.  I also happen to have a very strong testimony that even in our deepest, mopiest, whiniest moments, our Father is aware of us and sends the sweetest relief if we are receptive to it. 

I was reading my scriptures a few weeks ago and I was in Alma 9, where  Alma is preaching repentance to the people of Ammonihah with Amulek... and I was feeling a whole lot like a citizen in the city of Ammonihah at the time-- disobedient, prideful, and far away from where God expected me to be.  But then I came to verse 30, where Alma says "And now, my beloved brethren, for ye are my brethren, and ye ought to be beloved, and ye ought to bring forth works which are meet for repentance, seeing that your hearts have been grossly hardened against the word of God, and seeing that ye are a lost and a fallen people."

The words "and ye ought to be beloved" truly touched my heart.  Alma is preaching to his brethren who scorn, mock, and humiliate him, "happy" in their state of sin and disobedience, and still he teaches them that they don't have to be that way.  Sometimes when we're feeling a bit sin-sick and far away from God, it's easy to convince ourselves that we're happy in our disobedience and we're too far gone to be any use to Him anyway. 

BUT THAT IS NOT THE CASE AT. ALL.  

As children of God, we all fulfill divine purposes in His mighty work.  Amidst all the scary, overwhelming, confusing things that go on in this world, we are all called to comfort, serve, and teach our fellow brothers and sisters using our most Christlike attributes.  There's only one person who could have done it alone: our Savior, Jesus Christ, who died to wipe us clean of our sins and to make it possible to become like Him someday.  But the world keeps turning and there are still people in need, and we all must use our littlest part to make the world a better place. 

That also means that the welfare of the entire planet does not rest on you being perfect. It's not worth throwing in the towel just because you're not in "first place."  No matter where you are in life-- unemployed, unmarried, unendowed, or feeling unneeded-- there is someone to serve, teach, and comfort.  

If my words are falling flat, I'd recommend reading Elder Jeffery R. Holland's most recent conference address, "Be Ye Therefore Perfect-- Eventually" most especially the passage: 

"What I now say in no way denies or diminishes any commandment God has ever given us. I believe in His perfection, and I know we are His spiritual sons and daughters with divine potential to become as He is. I also know that, as children of God, we should not demean or vilify ourselves, as if beating up on ourselves is somehow going to make us the person God wants us to become. No! With a willingness to repent and a desire for increased righteousness always in our hearts, I would hope we could pursue personal improvement in a way that doesn’t include getting ulcers or anorexia, feeling depressed or demolishing our self-esteem. That is not what the Lord wants for Primary children or anyone else who honestly sings, 'I’m trying to be like Jesus.'”

Regardless of if you've been a member your whole life, if you're a recent convert, or if you're just rejoining the party, you have a place in the church, and you have a personalized mission to build the kingdom. So if you're like me and you feel continually plagued with feelings of inadequacy, remember that it is never worth throwing in the towel. Our Heavenly Parents trust you to make your contributions at every season in life to the best of our God-given abilities, and guess what: 

I received my patriarchal blessing about two months after I was baptized.  It was a transformative, almost overwhelming experience that has guided my life and molded my character.  My patriarchal blessing is sacred to me, and therefore private, but one portion of it that I'm always willing to share is it's clarity that my mission in life is temple and family history work.  ​Shortly after I received my patriarchal blessing, I took a family history class and from there I really took off.  I found a new passion for finding my family members and gathering them all in on place.  Within my first year, I qualified over 1600 people for temple ordinance work.  At first, I only reserved and printed the baptisms and confirmations, because that was all I could do.  But eventually I started reserving and printing all ordinances because, you know, I'd get to them eventually.  

Fast forward approximately one year and eight months to April 2017.  I had just shy of 1200 temple cards printed that needed ordinance work done. One day I happened to find myself on FamilySearch (my go-to genealogy research site), where I found this happy little notification: 

At which point my prompt reaction was:

 So naturally, I got busy.  And I got busy FAST.  I had printed most of my cards in mid-August 2015, which gave me about 4 months until my printed temple cards expired.  I realized I could always go back and find everyone and reserve them again, but that would have been a lot of work, too, and this seemed like a fun challenge. I began first by figuring out what exactly I would be able to feasibly do in the next four months.  After a little more digging, I figured out that the 2-year policy applied not to when I last printed the card, but since the most recent ordinance had been performed, which bought me some time and narrowed down the pool considerably.  After that, I got down to close family relations-- people that I had at least a semi-clear understanding of how I was related.  Eventually, I whittled the list down from 1200 printed cards to just 582 that really needed work done quickly.  After organizing them into their families, I loaded up my temple bag and started my temple marathon. 
​
First and foremost: Why do Mormons do this? 
The principle that first attracted me to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints was the Plan of Happiness and the measure of fairness for all God's children therein.  Although I loved my Catholic faith, I was increasingly bothered throughout my life that in order to be saved, you had to be born in the right place, at the right time, to the right family who would have the foresight get you baptized as soon as possible. The God I knew through personal prayer and religious observance simply wasn't like that. Why would He create us in His likeness and image, knowing that by no fault of their own, most of his children wouldn't make it to paradise.   That seemed cruel or at best, indifferent, and my God simply wasn't like that.  

Thanks to the restored gospel of Jesus Christ and through Priesthood keys, however, we have the ability to bring all of God's children back to our Father's presence, regardless of their circumstances in life! Although you need a physical body to receive saving ordinances, these ordinances can be performed vicariously on behalf of the dead.  These departed spirits then have the choice to accept the work that has been done for them on earth, and hopefully achieve exhalation with the Father. We also believe in something called the Spirit of Elijah (which I'll talk about later) from  Malachi 4:5-6: "And he shall turn the heart of the fathers to the children, and the heart of the children to their fathers, lest I come and smite the earth with a curse.”  Elder David A. Bednar described the Spirit of Elijah best as a "distinctive influence of the Holy Ghost (that) draws people to identify, document, and cherish their ancestors and family members – both past and present.”  If you'd like to read more, click here for an AMAZING talk by Elder Bednar and click here for an equally incredible talk by President Eyring. 

My Catholic heritage is what made all this possible
As a convert, family history feels a lot more like data entry.  As a Catholic convert, it's a lot of data entry for two main reasons.  First, Catholics and Latter-day Saints share a common love for family, which is translated into having many, many children.  It isn't uncommon to find a family in my tree with children in the double-digits that lived to adulthood and had equally large families of their own.  Knowing how much these individuals must have loved their family members and how much they would want to be together in the eternities, I feel honored to complete their temple ordinances here on earth.  Second, Catholics are notoriously good at keeping really, really good records.  Some baptismal documents will not only contain the birth and christening date for the chid, but the same information for the parents, grandparents, and even the godparents (who are more often than not close family members).  

Important Side Rant: I've noticed, oftentimes, that members of our church will get after other faiths for performing infant baptisms.  As members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, we have the privilege of knowing that infant baptisms are not necessary, and young disciples of Christ should wait until at least the age of 8 to be baptized.  Other faiths rely simply on the doctrine that an individual cannot be saved without first being baptized in life, and with the high rate of infant mortality throughout all history, infants should be baptized as soon as possible (I was first baptized less than a month after my birth).  In other words, they're working with the best they've got.  Even though this isn't patterned after Heavenly Father's wishes explicitly, He has a way of making the best out of our earthly understandings.  Hence, the meticulously kept parish records, family bibles, and-- you guessed it-- infant baptismal records with a WEALTH of knowledge that makes vicarious ordinance work possible. *drop mic*

The blessings of the temple are REAL 
Naturally my goal was to get as many temple ordinances done as possible, which meant I needed to spend as much time at the temple as possible.  Leading up to this point, I routinely balanced 18 credit hours, extracurricular leadership activities, a 20-hour work week, and then I had a new marriage to nurture and build.  But when it came time to get all these ordinances done, my schedule miraculously opened up. It was like Moses stepped into my life and instead of parting the Red Sea, he parted my day planner (an equally momentous feat).  I only had to take 9 credits my last semester, I was training my replacement at work so I didn't have to be in the office as much, and Grant was working in Salt Lake at the time.  All of a sudden I had all this free time and hundreds of ancestors calling my name to do their ordinances.  Did they have a hand in this? Most likely. 

In the next several weeks, Tuesday through Friday, I performed between 15-30 initiatories or 2-3 endowment sessions per day.  For my friends who are yet to be endowed, that adds up to about 3-6 hours in the temple, four days a week.  I don't share that to puff myself up.  The insecure part of me rewrote that sentence at least a dozen times, afraid you'd all think I was bragging, but I'm simply illustrating that I was in the temple a lot. And the blessings were profound. 

Almost instantly, I felt at peace.  My grades improved, I was having a much easier time at work with my remaining clients, and I enjoyed the most amazing clarity of mind.  As a woman in business, we're constantly told to find a mentor and to find a role model to pattern your life after.  While these things are important, I realized that more than anything else, I wanted to be like the women who served in the temple-- kind and patient and fun who love the Lord so much they'd devote several hours of their week to serve in the house of the Lord.  I also discovered that people are willing to serve if you're willing to ask.  Naturally I couldn't do all 582 ordinances on my own, and I had to ask many of the men in my life to help me complete the male ordinances.  Despite their busy schedules and other worthy commitments, all of the people I asked to help enthusiastically agreed and even asked for more once they were done.  It was truly a touching and edifying experience that I'll carry with me for a long time. 
​
The Spirit of Elijah is REAL 
This experience I had is probably one that I'll always hold dear. One day throughout all this madness, I came across my second-great grandmother, Ellen Harrington.  You can see her and her family here in their family photo.  If you lost count, those are her nine sons.  Nine healthy, strong boys that she raised in faith with her husband, James Keating.  But more remarkable than that was something I found years after I had entered their data.  Before she could raise any children past infancy, she lost two daughters, and lost another baby girl and a baby boy in her child-bearing years.

In a tender moment of realization, the Spirit of Elijah touched my heart.  I was looking at Ellen while I was at work (I work for a family history company, it's kosher) and I was overcome with empathy and I began to weep at my desk.  I had looked at the census records and birth certificates of this entire family and entered them into FamilySearch myself, but in my haste I hadn't taken a moment to appreciate Ellen's life. Our Heavenly Father knew the desires of her heart just as well as he knows the desires of mine, and for just a moment I was able to feel her the loss and heartache of losing four babies-- including her only daughters.  She must have ached for those children, of whom she probably thought were lost to her forever.  My resolve to have them sealed together strengthened, because if anyone should experience the joys of raising three little girls, it would be a woman who had survived raising nine boys.      

The Spirit of Elijah is a powerful force that not only encourages us to hasten the work, but also to be edified by the work.  It is vitally important that we remember our ancestors as we would like to be remembered: as individual children of God.  As the only member in my family, I often feel overwhelmed by the responsibility to help my family members return to their Father.  It can be really frustrating, and full disclosure: the biggest fight I ever got into with my husband was about him having the audacity to do his Mom's temple names instead of mine.  

BUT. THEY. ARE. NOT. JUST. NAMES. They are not just cards.  They are family members, who have children, and parents, and spouses, and siblings that they want to be sealed to just as much as I hope to be one day.  Probably the most important thing I learned throughout this experience is just that: we don't do this to keep ourselves busy or to load up our spiritual plates with one more thing to it.  It's to gather in the eternal family of God.  

Recently I had the opportunity to talk to one of my husband's good family friends.  She approached me on Sunday during Relief Society and told me how much she enjoyed reading my blog. *pretentious hair toss* In all seriousness, I was truly touched.  I love hearing that my words have the ability to influence people's lives and offer them a different perspective on LDS Doctrine and Mormon culture.  But then she said something that surprised me a little bit: "I just love how you can face all these obstacles and not get offended."

While this comment certainly didn't offend me in the least, it got the wheels turning in my brain.  That word... "offended." 

One thing that stood out to me almost immediately when I started investigating the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints was how the word "offended" had been so much vilified. Members in Sunday School would trade stories about how someone they knew had gotten "offended" at church and one thing led to another and they became the devil incarnate. Like it was their fault for having their feelings hurt.  I've certainly had my feelings hurt... and I'm not the anti-Christ...(?)  To me, it sounded like a BIG section of the Lord's flock had genuinely had their feelings hurt, and instead of having those feelings validated, they were shunned and gossiped about at church.  In my investigator's mind, all I could think was.... 

In truth, I get offended a whole. dang. lot. In the 5+ years since my investigation began, the following has happened: 

1. Some gaggle of old biddies got mad that they let "some kid who's not even a member of the church yet speak at a youth event" (hint: the youth was me) 
2. Someone in my ward thought I had left my husband when I went to Europe for a month on study abroad 
3. Our home teachers said that they weren't visiting us because we were "doing fine" and their other family needed them more (you can almost feel Elder Holland's jowls quivering with righteous indignation) 
4. Someone in my ward asked if I had a speech impediment and pointed out that my "prominent" overbite affected the way I speak 
5. I've had people blindly assume I joined the church because my then-boyfriend (now-husband) wanted me to
6. As this blog grows, I pretty consistently get called an apostate for one reason or another (haters gonna hate) 

And those are just the ones I can list with a certain degree of anonymity.  And we won't even get into the number of times I was offended by Mormons before I decided to give the LDS Church a chance (that's a much longer list). 

On top of that I confess that I absolutely hated, abhorred, loathed attending Institute *braces for angry emails* I attended my classes and I graduated, but not with a great deal of teeth gritting and eye rolling and being offended.  Out of the 16 classes I registered for, I only genuinely enjoyed three classes (two of which were taught by the same instructor).  And all because those 3 classes were the only one that could go an entire semester without Brother so-and-so making some disparaging comment about whatever religion best illustrated his point or some stupid comment like "You're failing as a Saint if you're reading your scriptures chronologically as opposed to topically."  It drove me straight up the wall, but President Monson urged all young adults to attend and graduate institute, and I trust President Monson.  I saw blessings in my life as a result of attending Institute, but they were inarguably hard-won and a topic for another blog post. 

I digress.  My point is that I've spent a pretty (un)healthy chunk of my life getting offended by members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.  But it hasn't stopped me from attending my church meetings.  It hasn't stopped me from fulfilling my callings.  And it certainly hasn't stopped me from my "gossip hour" of prayer where I tell Heavenly Father exactly how I feel about Brother/Sister so-and-so. So what's different? Because as I've shared the experiences I've listed above (and the juicer ones in private) with friends, I consistently get the response "I don't think I'd be able to go back to church if that happened to me!" So what's the deal? 

Being a convert to the LDS Church has some pretty sweet advantages, as does coming from a completely different faith tradition that you don't have any hard feelings towards.  If it's not already abundantly clear, my Catholic roots are very important and special to me, and I feel very strongly that my unique experience as a Roman Catholic has helped me develop a strong testimony. 

And in the case of insulating my testimony from the insensitivities and offenses from other people, I'll make my case.  The Roman Catholic Church has been around a considerably long time and over the years has gained some pretty considerable religious and political influence.  Unfortunately, there are individuals who come to power who have abused that influence, leading to plenty of unsavory scandals and unforgivable offenses. And yet, the Roman Catholic Church remains the largest religious denomination in the world.  

I attended a Catholic elementary school and where I'm sure my teachers had one heck of a time figuring out how to cover these topics without unraveling the faith of 30+ 3rd graders. Nevertheless, they did an excellent job of doing just that. Whether it's little misunderstandings or painful, deliberate attacks by other members, I've learned from my days at parochial school that the best way to inoculate our faith from the shameful actions of others is to draw a deep, deliberate, hard line in the sand.  On one side is my faith: my knowledge that there is a God in Heaven who loves me, a Savior who died to save me from my sins, and sacraments (covenants) that help me return to Them.  On the other side are all the things that happen within the sphere of religion: scandals and abuses of power and the transgressions of others.  I choose which side of the line I stand on, but if I choose faith then I have to commit to employ the virtues of patience, long-suffering, forgiveness, understanding, charity, faith, and love to protect my testimony from whatever is happening on the other side. 

That does not mean that if you see injustice you don't do anything about it simply because it's "on the other side of the line."  We are commanded to devote our time, talents, and all other God-given resources to build up His kingdom, and that means having zero tolerance for bullying and gossiping and abuse at church (or anywhere for that matter).  We must do everything ​we can to make church a safe place for all of God's children. It is important to remember, however, that it is equally destructive to let things like bullying and gossiping erode our faith. We owe it to our Father in Heaven to have the faith that immature, insensitive comments and actions will stay in this finite existence and they have no bearing on our individual worth. 

Nevertheless, it is also our responsibility to validate and comfort those who have been offended.  It's not our place to determine whether their hurt is truly legitimate or not, but it is our place and our calling to make them at home again within the flock.  It's vitally important for us to listen, to comfort, and to share our testimonies that although the church may not be perfect, the doctrine of Jesus Christ is. 

I think of Obadiah 1:21, where we are called to be saviors ourselves on Mount Zion.  Normally this scripture is used in relation to temple and family history work, but I think it fits marvelously in this context as well: creating a welcoming space for the entire flock as we put away the offenses of those who would hinder our mission. 

So go ahead and get offended! Because what hurts your feelings at church should be validated as opposed to gossiped about. There's nothing wrong with the old biddies in your ward getting on your nerves or that one woman in Relief Society making you want to tear your hair out with the things she posts on social media (and maybe that RS Sister is me). But it is vitally important to separate the issues stemming from what other people do and say with what we doctrinally know to be true.

So turn to prayer.

Turn to forgiveness. 

Turn to charity. 

I testify that when we are virtuous and rely on the spirit to protect our testimonies from the offenses of others, we become stronger disciples of Christ and our God's greatest asset in building His kingdom here on earth. ​