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"We can do this work in the Lord’s way only when we seek, receive, and act on personal revelation. Without personal revelation, we cannot succeed. If we heed personal revelation, we cannot fail." ~ Julie B. Beck

Superwoman VS Protecting Your Secret Identity

One of my favorite movies about superheroes is The Incredibles . The mother tells her kids to protect their secret identities. Their anonymity will keep them safe. At the beginning of the movie they must keep their powers secret. They are not allowed to use them at all. This causes tension and frustration. They feel isolated and different from their peers. At the end of the movie, the family is happier. They have learned to reach the proper balance between the dual roles of super and average.


I have a secret identity, too. We all do. We put on our "super suits" every day before we go out into the world. Maybe our suits are comprised of make-up and designer clothes, manicures and stylish hair-dos. Maybe they are a shield made up of our talents and accomplishments. Maybe it is just a smile. Whatever it is, our public personas have one purpose, to hide who we really are.

That is not always a bad thing. There tends to be a complete lack of hiding in our society right now. People are so quick to reveal the crude and rude in their lives. They want to get sympathy. They are addicted to the reactions they get from shocking people. The problem is that isn't the truth either. It is just another super suit.

It is not necessary to reveal everything about ourselves. In the movie, the family didn't tell everyone who they were. They didn't stop wearing masks when they were acting as superheroes. They adjusted both identities so that they didn’t have to try so hard.

When we completely hide ourselves we are lying. It doesn't feel good to lie. It causes us stress and guilt, even if we don't recognize those feelings right away. We feel the need to keep up the act. We feel lonely because no one really knows us. We get caught in a cycle that brings nothing good. So why do we do it?

Fear. We fear being rejected. We fear disappointing others. We fear criticism of our flaws. Mostly, we are afraid that if we reveal our true selves nothing will change. We might still be miserable and lonely.

It takes a great leap of faith to admit who we really are. I don't mean telling everyone our dirty, nasty secrets. I mean admitting that we need help or that we are having a hard time with something. We might be admitting to our dreams and successes. We don't need to tell everyone everything. Talking to a trusted friend or two can make all the difference. When someone shares our burdens, they become lighter.

It helps to make adjustments to our suits from time to time. Maybe we don’t want to just stop wearing it cold-turkey. Others might have the very reaction to us we want to avoid. But as we make small changes, we become comfortable with letting people see more of the real us.

There are still some secrets, some aspects of who we are, that may never be truly known to any other person. Except our Heavenly Father. We can always turn to him. He is waiting. He knows who we are and what we are. He knows our flaws and our potential. Our success is his work and glory. (See Moses 1:39) We can turn to him anytime, anywhere, in any circumstances. He is there when we need a friend and there is no one else. He is there to encourage us and guide us.

We may never hang up our super suits for good. We likely will wear them to public functions and holiday parties. That is probably a good thing. There are times when we need that protective covering. Just don’t wear it for too long.

Words That Changed The World

In Sacrament Meeting the other week we sang hymn 26, Joseph Smith's First Prayer. I have always loved this hymn. But for some reason, this particular day, it touched me in a very powerful way.

Songs of the Heart

I don't really think of myself as an overly emotional person. I don't break down into weepy sobs over every little thing and I don't usually fly off the handle at the slightest hint of offense. Still, there are moments when simple words are not strong enough to express me feelings. Poetry can sometimes be expressive enough to relay how I feel about a certain topic. There have been times in my life when my reaction to something was either "Wow" or pages of poetry. Sometimes it just pours out of me, complete with rhythm and rhymes.

As much as I like poetry, I still find it lacking at times. What it needs is music.  I believe music is one of the greatest gifts the Lord has given us. Doctrine and Covenants 25:12 says "For my soul delighteth in the song of the heart; yea, the song of the righteous is a prayer unto me, and it shall be answered with a blessing upon their heads." I think of this passage often. There are times when I can't find the words to express what I am feeling but a song or hymn comes to mind.

About ten years ago, I attended a program called "Womanhood; Enjoy to the End". It was a musical presentation about the many challenges women face, performed by three women from Washington. At the time, I was living in Colorado Springs, thousands of miles from home with a newborn baby and a deployed husband. Although we had been actively attending our ward there, I didn't really feel like I had any friends. I was feeling pretty overwhelmed and lonely.

During the program, they sang a song called "He'll Come Home With You." It was based on a story that has been shared in a General Conference more than once. Since it isn't very long, I will just quote the story for you.

As I turned around to walk back home, I could see my house lighted up. I could hear echoes of my children as I had walked out of the door a few minutes earlier. They were saying: ‘Mom, what are we going to have for dinner?’ ‘Can you take me to the library?’ ‘I have to get some poster paper tonight.’ Tired and weary, I looked at that house and saw the light on in each of the rooms. I thought of all of those children who were home waiting for me to come and meet their needs. My burdens felt heavier than I could bear.

I remember looking through tears toward the sky, and I said, ‘Dear Father, I just can’t do it tonight. I’m too tired. I can’t face it. I can’t go home and take care of all those children alone. Could I just come to You and stay with You for just one night? I’ll come back in the morning.’

I didn’t really hear the words of reply, but I heard them in my mind. The answer was: ‘No, little one, you can’t come to me now. You would never wish to come back. But I can come to you.’(Ensign, Nov. 2006)

I cry every time I hear this song or read the story. I am sometimes surprised by my reaction. The burdens of life can be so constant that I don't even realize that I am carrying them. Suddenly I feel so tired and weary. I realize that I have not been handing over my burdens to the Lord. I give them over...then start collecting a whole new bundle of cares. (Maybe some day I will learn to stop doing that!)

This isn't the only time a song can express perfectly what I am feeling. When my first child was born, I found myself sitting alone in the hospital room admiring his perfect, beautiful, sleeping little face. I had the TV on, I guess it was MTV or something, and a music video came on. The song was "I knew I Loved You Before I Met You" by Savage Garden. It was the perfect song for that moment. To this day, I don't think I could express that moment any better.

You may be wondering what prompted this post. Yesterday was Sunday. We actually made it to church on time so we didn't have to sit in the overflow. Even though we were sitting near the front of a full chapel, I could barely hear anyone singing. I looked around as people stared at their hymnals, mouths moving in silent mumbles. I was actually disgusted! I know the hymns were a little difficult and maybe some people are a little self-conscious about their singing voices. Still, as I quoted before, the Lord delights in the "songs of the heart". They are like a prayer to Him. He doesn't care if you sound like a strangled cat! It is what you feel in your heart.

I grew up in the Southern United States where people are passionate in their religious devotions. I can remember hearing certain members of the congregation singing very loudly and slightly out of tune, with a twanging southern accent to boot. They always reminded me of an old, untuned piano. To this day, I cringe when I hear certain hymns, the memory of those well-meaning singers still ringing in my ears.

Hearing loss and nightmares aside, I admire those old crooners. They understood that singing in church was not about impressing others. It was about expressing your feelings to the Lord. Don't misunderstand, we should still try and do our best. But when we are singing with the Spirit, expressing our love and, essentially, bearing our testimony through music, we will be blessed and bless others.

A Season of Miracles

Christmas is a wondrous time of the year for many of us. It is a time of beautiful music, lights, giving to those less fortunate, and being with family. There are countless stories of quiet acts of love and generosity. There are also stories of changed hearts and changed lives.

As I thought back over the 30+ years that I have celebrated Christmas, I thought of all the moments that touched my heart. I realized that many of the moments that have helped build my testimony of Jesus Christ have happened during this time of year. Some are personal and I have decided not to share them at this time. But there is one that always comes to mind. I would like to share it now.

It was December 1986. My mother was expecting her 6th child. I knew in my heart that this would be my last chance to have a sister. I prayed from the time my parents told me about that baby that it would be a girl. I knew that there would be a significant age gap but I was feeling a little desperate at being the only girl in the family.

As Christmas grew near, another desire surfaced. I wanted a white Christmas. Growing up in the foothills of North Carolina meant that Christmas was usually cold but it had not snowed during Christmas in my lifetime. I had learned the song "White Christmas" and now I wanted to have that experience for myself. I began to pray that it would snow for Christmas.

As the day approached, we experienced unusually warm days. My faith wavered. I didn't believe that Heavenly Father would change the weather patterns so drastically to satisfy my childish wish. So, I changed my request a little. I prayed that it would snow near Christmas. We usually took down our decorations around the 1st of January so that was my deadline: Snow by New Year's Day.

Christmas Day came and went. There were presents and goodies and family and school vacation. There was no snow. The dreary winter-scape was brown and gray. The magic of the Christmas season was rapidly dissipating. I was letting go of my hope for snow, believing that my prayer was too petty to be answered.

New Year's Eve, my cousin Carrie came over to spend the night. We stayed up until Midnight and threw cereal into the air to celebrate. We slept on the fold-out sofa in the living room. I went to sleep with one last plea for snow, though not expecting it to be granted.

The next morning, Carrie woke up before I did. I remember the moment as if it happened yesterday. She sat up, rubbed her eyes, and said "Amy, it snowed." I shot up from the bed in complete astonishment. I stared out the large front window at a world of glistening white. Delicate flakes were falling from the sky. I couldn't believe it! It had worked! My prayer had been answered!

We spent the day playing in the snow, having pancakes for breakfast, hot chocolate and pretending to be at a glamorous sky resort. By that evening the snow had melted. I fell asleep that night more content than I had ever been in my life.

This experience gave me renewed hope that I would soon have a baby sister. After all, I had been praying for that for years. I now knew that Heavenly Father heard and answered prayers so he would answer that one also.

April 1, April Fool's Day of all days, my brother Daniel was born. I was devastated. I cried and screamed and threw a world-class tantrum. Not exactly the reaction parents want when they have a new baby. I was so angry with my Heavenly Father for not giving me this one thing that I wanted so desperately. Was it really too much to ask?

Yet I knew that he was there. I knew he loved me. I knew that he heard my prayers. I knew he answered them, even requests as simple and insignificant as a little snow. I knew that he had granted that wish to teach me this lesson. I knew that he had heard my prayers for a sister but he was saying "No". Whatever his reasons were, I could not have that particular desire of my heart.

I still wish I had a sister. I still don't know exactly why I didn't get at least one. I have some theories. But they don't really matter. What matters is that wonderful experience that laid such a firm foundation for my testimony. Because of that one-day sprinkling of snow, I learned that my Father in Heaven is real. He is not a distant, aloof being who doesn't care about the affairs of mankind. He is a loving, ever-present Father. He loves each of his children and wants them to be happy. He reaches out to them, no matter their age or their place in the world. Each one of us is precious to him. I also learned that we don't always get what we want. That doesn't mean he loves us less.

To this day, I am awed by that experience. In fact, it might mean more to me now than it did 23 years ago. When I think of the "tender mercies" that our Father grants us, I think if this moment. I am humbled that he would care so much about a 10 year old girl that he would answer her prayer in such an obvious way. I am humbled that he knew how devastated I would be a few months from that day when my brother was born and took steps to reassure me ahead of time. I am even more humbled that he would know my needs so well that he would provide me with a Savior to bear my burdens and atone for my sins.

At this time of year, as we remember and celebrate the humble and lowly birth of the Lord, let us also remember the many things He has done for us. Let us remember those small and simple blessings that have brought about such great change in our lives. I am so grateful for the opportunity each year to reflect on these moments and remember the great love my Father in Heaven has for me. 

Have a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!