I wanted to post my response to the latest post at the LDS blog “By Common Consent” entitled Reaching For Her …
The post talks about the desire for a Heavenly Mother to pray to in times when you really feel only a female would be able to sufficiently understand your pain.
The LDS church does not say anything officially about a Heavenly Mother, but leaders have mentioned one, so Mormons generally believe there is a Heavenly Mother, although we are not officially allowed to pray to her. That is what prompted this blog post.
“On an otherwise ordinary night in the middle of November, I woke up to the sound of a small pop and a gush of fluid. Startled and groggy, I heaved my pregnant self out of my bed and into the bathroom. When I sat down, I felt my body push, and I promptly delivered a tiny baby girl into my own hands. She was absolutely perfect in every way, except for being completely still. And except for the fact that I was only 16 weeks pregnant.
I wish I could put the exact feeling of the experience into words. I know for sure that I felt my heart literally break, almost as if a piece of it had fallen off, never to be retrieved. I was brutally shaken, unable to logically figure out why this had happened – I had felt tiny flutters just hours before. But included in the shock and the grief was an overwhelming presence of something absolutely holy. It was simultaneously the most horrific and spiritual event of my life.
In the days (and weeks… and months… and years…) following, I found myself praying more sincerely and openly than ever. I offered some of the most raw & angry prayers ever, and I still sometimes wonder if the obscenities I screamed at God will be read back to me at the pearly gates. And beautifully, and mercifully, I got answers to some of my deepest questions, and I felt an enveloping sense of peace and reassurance that my Heavenly Father loved me.
But despite these heart-wrenching communions with Deity, I found myself desperately grasping for something more. I have grown up hearing that my Heavenly Father knows me and loves me infinitely, and that Jesus Christ knows my pain. And I believed that, and to an extent, I still believe that. But when you experience something like this, something so uniquely female, it leaves you grasping for somebody who really knows you, and who really knows your pain. I believe that Christ suffered for the pains and the sins of the world, but could He really, truly understand the visceral pain that comes from delivering your partially-formed daughter into the palms of your own hands? I mean, really?! I had always believed in Eternal Parents – it’s such a beautiful and, in my opinion, foundational piece of the gospel. But I’d never really thought about a Heavenly Mother more than simply reiterating what I’d always been taught – that “we just don’t know much about it, so we don’t talk about it, either.”
But after that otherwise ordinary night in November, those platitudes were not only insufficient, they were borderline offensive. And so, since then, I’ve found myself reaching for Her. I listen to Eliza R. Snow’s powerful words over and over, telling me that “I’ve a Mother there.” I pray to feel Her presence and Her comfort and Her reassurance that I am loved and understood. I am desperate to know Her, to crawl up on her lap and cry, like I would with my own Mother. And while I wouldn’t say that I’ve reached the place I would like to be, I have briefly felt small whispers, like those a child would hear from their mother while laying on her lap, letting me know that everything will be ok, and that She does, indeed, understand.
Truly, I’ve a Mother there.”
written by Liz Johnson
Although I think it would be nice for Mormons to have a Heavenly Mother to go to in times of crisis - if you really look into LDS doctrine – it doesn’t really allow for it anymore than any other patriarchal religion.
Lets starts by examining the convoluted message we have received about heaven from the LDS church…
First (when I was a child) I thought that I would be together with my forever family in heaven (my family being my parents and my siblings).
Later when I was older and married I thought to myself- no that can’t be right, instead I will be with my spouse and our kids. This is my forever family.
Later I thought that can’t be right. No – it will just be me and my husband because my kids will have their own spouses to be with over their own world. I thought I would be a Mother in Heaven someday – side by side with my husband and we would be Gods of our own world.
Then I found out that my forever family might not be just me and my husband, but I might have sister wives, but not for sure – maybe (probably).
Then I was told I would spend eternity giving birth to children to populate our world. I was also told that I would be anonymous to this world and my spirit children would only have a relationship with my husband – who would be God. This is because I was so much more special and sacred than my husband.
Then I found out that having a world of our own wasn’t doctrine anymore. This made some sense because our Godhead is not a mother and father, but 3 men Jesus, God, and the Holy Spirit – not a female and a male couple. So there really is no role for a woman in Heaven.
So then it occurred to me that no mention of women or Mothers in Heaven were ever mentioned in canonized scripture by any prophet ever – throughout all of time. The fact that men were always the Gods and never the women made me wonder.
This started to make me suspicious that the whole concept of Heaven like we might picture it might have been made up by men originally because the whole thing didn’t seem to make any sense anymore – and seemed very one sided.
So now I hesitate about picturing God as an old man with a white beard floating somewhere in space or on the planet Kolob. Now I look to Jesus as a spiritual guide and I think of God more as the Spirit of Love (not male or female) and embrace not really knowing anything about Heaven at all.
