Feminism and the Temple

                I got along with my older brother really well until I was about three-years-old, at which point I learned how to count. With this knowledge, I realized that our method of dividing Legos was skewed in his favor. My poor mother had no peace after that. I was determined to get my fair share in every situation. We couldn’t split a candy bar without measuring it to be sure it was divided evenly. It didn’t matter if I had as much as I wanted. It mattered if I had as much as him.

                This attitude made some things in the temple hard for me. I knew the temple ceremony was of God. The first time I went through the temple, I received a strong witness of His power in the ordinances. I received peace and inspiration in the temple regularly. My heart felt right in the temple. However, in the back of my mind, I was counting Legos, anxious to make sure I had as many as everyone else. I focused not only on my covenants and promised blessings, but I compared the covenants and promises I received to the promises men received. Any difference in wording, however slight, bothered me.

                I continued to go to the temple. I didn’t dwell too frequently on the differences that bothered me. I prayed for friends and family members. I sought direction in my career. And I prayed a lot for the blessing I desire most: an eternal companion. One time at the temple, consumed with that longing for a husband, I listened to the covenants and blessings differently. Instead of thinking about slight differences in wording and whether the blessings for me were the same as for men, I focused on my deepest desires. I realized that every time there was something in the ceremony that was specific to women, it was something that I wanted – something that I wanted deeply. I felt my Heavenly Father assuring me that I would get what I want. The promises in the temple would fulfill the deepest desires of my heart.

                Recently, a friend of mine expressed concerns about something in the temple ceremony that she felt separated men and women in their standing before God. It was a difference that I hadn’t really thought about before. It had never bothered me, but the next time I went to the temple, I focused on the part of the ceremony that she had mentioned. I didn’t get an answer as to why the difference. But I did gain a new insight into what that part of the ceremony meant to me. That day, it helped me feel an intimacy with my Heavenly Father. I have a hard time being vulnerable. I have to trust someone a lot to let them see my pains and fears and insecurities. But I felt that I could weep and my Heavenly Father alone would see and understand my tears. I felt safe and close to Him even in a room full of strangers.

                I still have a lot to learn and understand about the temple. I have a lot to learn about the covenants. I suspect that eventually having a spouse will help with that. But I’m learning to concentrate on what I want and need and that’s working. It’s making me a happier, healthier person overall. Greater, more complete understanding will come in time. I’ll start with understanding what it means for me.