I guess you could say my younger sister’s life has not played
out the way a Latter-day Saint girl’s life traditionally plays out. She and I
and our two other siblings grew up in an active LDS family, right in the center
of Mormonism in Salt Lake City, Utah. Shortly after high school, however, my
sister’s life veered away from the faith we all shared and onto a journey that took
her away from activity in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints for
nearly 15 years.
By the time she reached her mid-20s, my sister was in
California, raising her young son as a single mom. One of the outward
manifestations that she was keeping her distance from the church was the gradual
appearance of her tattoos. First they were subtle, then not so subtle. On
through the coming years, everyone in the family prayed and longed for her to
find her way back.
And then it happened. Starting in 2013, my sister began a
new journey, a journey back to God and back to activity in the church. She
relit the flame of faith in her life and began working to instill that faith in
her son. Almost before we knew it, we were witnessing my dad baptizing my
nephew, followed by my sister receiving her endowment in the Jordan River Utah Temple in late 2014.
A few months later, my sister told us she planned to move home
to Utah, where she and her son would have the support of extended family. At
that point, I confess that I began to worry about how she would be received by
neighbors and ward members in Utah. Would her new ward embrace her, or would
she find herself on the outside looking in? When I found out she was moving to Bountiful,
I wondered if a tattooed, single mom in her 30s could fit into any ward there.
Her appointment to meet with her new bishopric was set for a
Sunday in January 2015, and here is what happened, in my sister’s own words:
I had a "get to know you" meeting with the bishopric of
my new ward today. To be honest, I have been struggling a bit with the
adjustment of attending a new ward since moving back to Utah.
I feel somewhat out of place as an individual in general, then you
factor in the covered in tattoos, single mom approaching her mid 30s aspect,
and quite frankly it's easy to feel like a misfit within the [church]—especially
when you are attending a family ward.
I have to say though, meeting with Bishop Stone and his counselors
today was exactly what I needed—it felt genuinely warm and inviting. They each
told me a bit about themselves, and then eagerly asked to know more about me
and my life. Of course I had to lift my sleeves and break the ice by saying,
"Well, I guess you could say I've lived a colorful life." We all
laughed, and even though they may have been in a bit of shock, I felt accepted
and embraced. "You bring a bit of diversity to the ward, and we love
that" was Bishop Stone's response. I told them I prefer "flavor,"
but "diversity" would do. J
I told them more about my life and the paths I have been down, when
Brandon, one of the counselors looked at the bishop and the other counselor and
said, "I feel like we are filming an 'I am a Mormon' video. Your story is
so interesting," which made me smile for obvious reasons.
The lesson I learned today was NOT to assume that other people will
count you out. Don't assume people judge you—give them a chance to love and
accept you. Change, though uncomfortable at times, gives us a chance to
grow.
One thing Brandon said in our closing prayer that literally brings
tears to my eyes as I write this was, "Thank you for guiding Amy into our
ward, and for bringing her here to be with us." Those words will impact me
for the rest of my life.
It is hard to describe how I felt when I first read my
sister’s description of that initial meeting with the bishopric a few weeks ago.
My gratitude for her wise and caring bishop is immense. I actually think most
members of the Church are a lot like my sister’s new bishopric—I’ve met mostly kind,
loving, accepting Latter-day Saints in every congregation I’ve ever attended
all across the world. But sometimes in our fear or in our shortsightedness, we
assume members or leaders may unfairly judge or reject our differences.
I am grateful for all members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints everywhere who live the teachings of the gospel and
walk in the footsteps of the Savior. I am thankful that my sister, her bishop,
and his counselors have each shattered different stereotypes about members of
the Church in their own ways. We are all at our best when our warm embrace
ensures all members are “no more strangers and foreigners, but fellowcitizens
with the saints, and of the household of God” (Ephesians 2:19). As the Lord
taught, “by this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love
one to another” (John 3:35).
