Category: Church

The young women and their leaders in my congregation are at girls’ camp this week. Their camp theme is “Know who you are,” which I didn’t realize was a Moana thing until after I made this display for them. As I compiled these quotes, I saw that the scriptures have a whole lot more to say about who Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ are than who we are. This is another religious paradox: we don’t learn who we are by focusing on ourselves. Instead, a knowledge of God is essential to know who we are and who we can become.

Some of what I found in my study isn’t popular. I felt myself having to draw some courage to write one of the quotes. This message from Sister Bonnie Oscarson, General Young Women president, helped me:

I worry that we live in such an atmosphere of avoiding offense that we sometimes altogether avoid teaching correct principles. We fail to teach our young women that preparing to be a mother is of utmost importance because we don’t want to offend those who aren’t married or those who can’t have children, or to be seen as stifling future choices. On the other hand, we may also fail to emphasize the importance of education because we don’t want to send the message that it is more important than marriage. We avoid declaring that our Heavenly Father defines marriage as being between a man and woman because we don’t want to offend those who experience same-sex attraction. And we may find it uncomfortable to discuss gender issues or healthy sexuality.

Certainly, sisters, we need to use sensitivity, but let us also use our common sense and our understanding of the plan of salvation to be bold and straightforward when it comes to teaching our children and youth the essential gospel principles they must understand to navigate the world in which they live. If we don’t teach our children and youth true doctrine—and teach it clearly—the world will teach them Satan’s lies.

Outside my kitchen window, in my neighbor’s yard is a large, mature cherry tree. In the spring, its white blossoms dominate my view. After a foggy winter night, I will awaken to its bare branches swathed in white frost. After the hush of a snowstorm, every twig carries a deposit of snow, highlighting the intricacy of its design. In summer, the filtered light through its leaves at sunrise and bright red cherries are my delights. In autumn, its leaves are some of the last to fall among the trees in the neighborhood.

Today there are green cherries all over the tree. In my view of so much emerald green, my mind struggles to remember the more harsh views of winter. My memory feels feeble and ungrateful as I try to remember what it was like to look out the window just a few months ago. Winter is beautiful, but when the leaves are out, it’s hard to remember that there was a winter.

I drive my truck around the neighborhood, with several simple birthday gifts for Relief Society sisters on the seat next to me. I could easily walk this route, but I want to finish my errands quickly. The more noble part of me wants to knock on the doors to give the women the carefully wrapped gifts and cards written with my heart. The shy part of me wonders whether I should just leave the gifts on the doorsteps and avoid knocking. After all, this week’s demands have been great. Perhaps I have given enough. But then I remember the tree outside my window.

How many times has this tree blessed my life? How many times has it provided fruit and shade in the summer? How many cold seasons has it weathered, to live to amaze us with its unrestrained display of white flowers? How many times has its presence been enough to inspire me, in frost, in heat, sunshine, and storms?

I knock on the doors. I can be like this tree.