Speak up! We can't hear you.

I received a note from an old friend last night asking me why it had been so long since I've written here. She said that she needed a new post. She needed my voice. And I appreciated that on several levels, so I'm here.

I took a walk the other evening with an acquaintance from my ward. She's quickly becoming a friend, but when we set out on the walk I knew very little about her. She moved into the ward about the same time I did. She was put into a very visible leadership position not long after that, so most of what I know about her I've seen through her church-calling filter. I've heard her teach and speak. But we've never had any extended conversation. If you'd asked me to describe her before our walk, I would have said different things than I would say now. Completely different. 

Now I would describe her as being very much like me. We see eye-to-eye on many Church-related topics. And I'm quite shocked.

She's quiet in meetings, just like I am. And I asked her about that. I wanted to know why, because I was troubled by the fact that I would never have guessed that we might be having the same thoughts during some lessons, or struggling with the same issues in our families, or trying to reconcile our politics with what we hear at church in the same ways. She told me that, out of respect for the Church, she decided long ago that she wouldn't voice things that might challenge any belief generally held by the majority in the room. I had to respect that. It beats my reason for silence, anyway, which is usually just being scared to open my mouth.

But then I told her that she is part of my problem.

I told her that I need her voice. Because on the days that I am sitting in lessons that chafe and wondering whether I am the ONLY person who is struggling with the discussion, it would mean a lot to me to know that there are others who are experiencing the same discomfort. Or who aren't sure they agree. Or who flat-out don't agree. 

I need her voice.

Of course, this encounter has caused me to wonder whether there aren't many more members like me than I realize there are, and whether there haven't been quite a few in every ward I've ever been in.

Which brings me to why I've not been here for awhile. It turns out that not long after I started this blog, I stumbled into an online discussion group for Mormons, and have since become involved in helping manage it. So I've found a place to say the things I need to say, and to feel that I'm not the only one in the room. And that's made it so that I've had less need to be here. 

But of course, that's not a good reason to have stopped writing. Because the reason I started to begin with is that I thought there might be others who could benefit from my voice. And by stopping, I too become part of the problem. Online discussion groups like mine where we can talk about things openly with 500 other Mormons who are facing similar questions or experiences are wonderful and can be helpful, but they don't do much to correct the issue that for every member who is speaking up, there are many, many who are not.

General Conference was interesting to me this time. I got the sense that the leaders are aware that there are many members who are struggling with things in new ways as a result of the connected, information-saturated world we find ourselves in. The Gospel Topics essays have been a nod, and a great start addressing a few common sticking points, but they're not keeping pace with the problem. I've had a chance to observe, as I read the discussions people are having, that many members of great faith and lifelong, dedicated church service are struggling. Even some current missionaries are experiencing faith crises. I don't see that it's any one demographic group. And I don't see that it's people who have spent their church lives looking for the door. 

What I do see is people who are looking desperately to stay. They just need a little help, a little change, a little progress, a little continuing revelation that reflects the reality they're trying to reconcile with their Mormon faith narrative and culture. They need the history they're discovering to match the official story, or at least be acknowledged. They need the "I'm a Mormon" campaign to feel like it reflects anyone that they recognize in their ward. They need to be able to express their beliefs -- their own beliefs, the ones they have come to personally over the course of their life -- and know that their version of truth doesn't have to sound exactly like everyone else in the room.

I'm so pleased to see any progress; we just need more. This recent article is a hopeful example -- the Church History Museum is being updated, and will now acknowledge and discuss polygamy in Nauvoo. I never realized that many members (even in my own family) have been taught that polygamy really only came into practice with Brigham Young. It's time to set all stories straight. Polygamy is a difficult enough pill for many to swallow, but we've navigated that troubled water for years. However, finding out that the true story is not the one you've been taught at church takes what was already sticky and makes it much worse.

People are willing to work through and accept difficult truths, and in my observation, members usually desire to believe. As Mormons, we are forgiving of the human component in everything related to Church history. That's something we seem to have tolerance for. But an institutional effort to tweak or sanitize, correlate or improve, whitewash or turn bits of history from unfortunate-to-faith-promoting, well, people have much less tolerance for that. Individual human foibles are a given, because we all have them. But finding out that something has been purposely obscured introduces a lack of trust for the whole organization, and that is much more damaging and difficult to turn around.

One thing that complicates the issue is that it's not the hardness-of-heart that we're always warned about at play here, even though I think many people who've never had these kinds of feelings or struggles may fear, suspect or even assume it to be. People's hearts are wounded and tender in my group, actually. Extremely so. That's what happens when you are suddenly hurt by the beliefs and the practices that you have held most dear, and constructed your life and your family around. 

It's the opposite of a hard heart. It's a broken one. 

And it wants love, and truth, and the peace of the Spirit. It wants to understand, and to be understood. It wants to heal. I would describe it as a seeking heart, not a hard one. 

But what happens next is critical.

I'm reminded of the scene in so many movies, usually near the end, where the whole town is gathered, and the bad guy is up in front railing away about something and then one...by one...by one...brave folks begin to stand up in support of the person who's in trouble. I feel like people are beginning to stand up, and they are starting to get noticed. And I think that's a good thing. 

So we need your voice, if there's anything that you've been wishing you could say, but haven't dared. Anything at all. Stand up and be counted. You'll find you have friends in the room that you never knew were there. That's a truth I've only begun to understand quite recently, and it could be the one that makes all the difference for me.

- S.