When I first met Sister J (I won't use her full name for security reasons), I had no idea how much of a part of my life she would become. I met her at the library, where she led an after-school program one day a week - a program my two daughters loved to attend.
As I observed them from week to week, I noticed a few things.
Her husband sometimes helped her and the girls adored him as well. The marital relationship was solid and the elder, adopted daughter was proud to be a part of their family - and very comfortable with the fact she was adopted. The son was a friend of the girls already as well.
I was living with a "friend" nearby, a "friend" who had become controlling and abusive. When, at last, I could not take it anymore, I wasn't sure where to go.
We walked two of the five miles into town before a kind stranger gave us a lift the rest of the way. (In NE Washington, you can trust strangers more easily - and in my life's experience, I have been better able to trust strangers than those who were supposed to care.) The woman remarked how the Lord had clearly put her in our path to help us that day.
At the time, I was pagan, not at all open, so I murmured some agreement and let the matter drop.
Once at the library, I had my daughter give Sister J the note I had written up, detailing that we needed help - now!
Knowing she was part of the Mormon church, I hoped that someone in the group might have a place for us to stay for awhile. (Though I was not at all open to any church - especially not that one!)
(With my chronic fatigue and chronic hip issues, I did not feel capable of doing a typical "job" - besides, I was also homeschooling, and trying to be the best mom I could be for my abilities.)
I did not expect instant miracles, but when she took us back to our borrowed cabin that night, she said that she and her husband had a rustic, off-grid cabin that we could live in while we figured out what to do next.
A couple nights later, after I had packed up our stuff, she came to get us.
Her "rustic" cabin was much, much nicer than the one we had been living in - for one thing, it had electricity (by now a luxury for us), an indoor toilet (a composting type) and a kitchen - though we'd have to fetch water from one of her wells below. Most amazingly, it housed a piano! (I have played since I was about 4, I guess.)
I made Sister J aware of the fact that I was not at all open to the idea of going to church with her, and she was okay with that - even offering to take us to the park while they were in church for 3 hours each week - and we could even come for the lunch after church without worry.
That part never happened, though.
(Image from Pixabay)
One day, I was helping Sister J with planting some willow starts around her pond - ones that I'd taken the previous spring, hoping to plant them appropriately one day. She asked me about my beliefs.
I told her about my beliefs in an earth goddess of sorts - the female deity, never allowed in Christian circles with the exception of Mother Mary in the Catholic Church - the last place I had been as a Christian (last ditch effort to stay in a church, I have often described it.)
Sister J told me about Heavenly Mother, as her church believed. Even though she didn't occupy much space in doctrine, she was very much a part of them. In her mind it was more like a wife supporting her husband or son, not taking the credit, just being an instrumental part behind them. They did not believe that God was a single parent!
This was something that really did strike a chord with me. A church which acknowledged the female deity?
A baptism coming up, I finally got the courage to ask if we could go along with so that the girls could see it. (I have always believed that they should be aware of other beliefs no matter what our own is, so this was a good part of their religious education.) Of course, Sister J said, "yes" and we went to the baptism, meeting several other members of her church at that time.
The 8-year-old child was fully immersed in (what I came to know as) the Mormon style, Elders standing in observance to make sure it was correctly conducted, if not, it would have to be redone. This seemed, in my eyes, both reassuring and crazy - it has to be perfect?! Indeed, this child did require two attempts as a foot came up and touched air, so his entire body was not underwater at the same time. But the second try was good and he came out smiling and happy.
By the end of the evening, I decided that we should at least go with Sister J and her family to Church - we needed to know everything about what they believed so that I could accept or reject it.
And that's where I'll leave you this time - as this really is getting lengthy!
Next Sunday, I'll tell you about what I found when I started attending an LDS Church - and why I chose to stay.
Lori Aberle Hopkins – photographer at Viking Visual, author, student-of-the-world.
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