Today someone I hold dearly in my heart was told that she was not wanted by the Church that she loves.
The Church that I loved.
My love for the Church has slipped. I don't love it. I don't know how to love it. Not when three men can sit alone, behind closed doors, and tell a woman that she is not welcome nor wanted. A woman they did not let defend herself in person. Her only means of defense was a letter. A letter she wrote beautifully.
Along with her countless women heard their decision: You are not wanted. You are not welcome.
We can find open, welcoming arms in this Church of ours, if we shut up, sit up, and do as we're told.
I will not.
I chose to be a member of this church.
I chose to earn my YW medallions.
I chose to attend the Church's school.
I chose to enter the Temple.
And I choose to stay.
No one can tell me that I am not welcome. No one can tell me that my voice doesn't matter. No one can judge me.
Christ would not cut us out. Christ would welcome us to the table, He would talk with us. He would find a way to make room for us in His Church.
Since the Church won't make room for us, we are making room for ourselves.
We will put on our pants (or dresses), and we will show up. We will speak up. And we will find our room at the table.
Because we are valued. We are welcome.
We are Daughters of our Heavenly Parents, who love us. And we love them. I love the Gospel of Christ, but the Church has broken my heart.
But they will not break my Spirit. I will not let them have the satisfaction.