Trusting God with the Story You Didn’t Choose

Anna Bryner

When we face problems we cannot fix and changes to our life plans we never could have anticipated, how do we trust Christ? This theme emerged again and again in conference. 

From Sister Tamara W. Runia:

“But what if you had a beautiful story you thought your life was going to tell and instead you’ve had to surrender that story? That sting is real and that wound is wide. It will take your finest faith in Christ to keep putting together the pieces, the ones that make sense, but also the ones that don’t.” 

From Elder Kevin J. Hathaway:

“The Lord is not delayed, distracted, or derelict in His deliverance. He has not forgotten you. He does not take joy in your suffering. However, He knows that lessons learned while waiting can bring converting growth that an earlier rescue might not produce.”

From Elder Matthew J. Eyring:

“It is important to not allow our challenges to negatively impact our faith. Our Savior Jesus Christ suffered for us. He knows exactly how we feel, especially in our darkest and most trying times. … Someday we will more fully realize how generous and kind the Lord has been to each of us. We will better understand and appreciate the depth of the Savior’s sacrifice and the reality that he and the Father are truly givers of good gifts.”

Finding God in the Silence

CD Cunningham

Elder Neil L. Andersen quoted from David O. McKay’s 1967 General Conference talk: “The greatest battle of life is fought within the silent chambers of your own soul.”

Elder Andersen began his remarks by talking about his early life on a dairy farm in Idaho. He would travel with the cows to the fields and wait with them there all day. He had no music, no cell phone, nothing but himself and his own thoughts—and the cows.

I have found in my own life just how easy it is to use the ever-present distractions to avoid ever listening to the “silent chamber” of my soul. 

Much of what we find on our phones these days has been specifically designed to distract and upset us. What am I doing to overcome those powers and find the silence that Elder Andersen taught is needed to build our faith in Jesus Christ?

God Knows Where You Are

Amanda Freebairn

Often, the General Conference talks that speak to me most are the ones that offer concrete invitations and challenges I can begin applying in the coming months. In that vein, I saw a thread through the talks given by President Chibota, Sister Spannaus, and Sister Runia. 

President Rosemary K. Chibota of the Primary General Presidency spoke of the importance of remembering our identity as children of God and viewing others through that same lens. She said:

“Your Heavenly Father sees you. Your Savior Jesus Christ sees you. They know your name, your circumstances, your gifts, and your divine potential. As we learn to see ourselves and one another as They do, our homes, wards, schools, and communities will become places of belonging, healing, and love.”

Sister Andrea Muñoz Spannaus, second counselor in the Young Women General Presidency, laid out a path for young women, but one that is really applicable to men and women of every age, for how to make life decisions and plans while trusting in God and being prepared to follow the Spirit. She said:

“The Lord knows where you are. He has your exact location and can guide you. He knows your dreams and your gifts. He knows when you feel alone and what your questions are. He knows your challenges and how to turn your weaknesses into strengths. He knows everything, and knowing everything about you does not make Him love you less.”

Sister Tamara W. Runia, first counselor in the Young Women’s General Presidency, spoke about what to do when the inevitable trials of life throw wrenches into those plans. She said:

“It is precisely because He loves us that we’re having these tempering, refining experiences. God knows, and we are here to learn, that we must become like Him so we can live with Him. And a godlike life is carved from the very things that make it hard—the gut-wrenching things that happen and the righteous desires that haven’t.”

Taking Our Discipleship Seriously

Marilia Gabriela

Across the sessions, I noticed a common invitation: to take our discipleship seriously while also remembering that God knows us individually. We are still learning. We do not always understand. We face weaknesses and difficult circumstances. But the answer is not to give up. The answer is and always will be Jesus Christ. 

He taught about how our discipleship is connected to the temple’s sacred ordinances and covenants. He taught: “For disciples of Jesus Christ, receiving priesthood ordinances and entering into sacred covenants are essential steps in the ‘quest of a lifetime’ to align our hearts, minds, and lives with God’s will.” 

I hope his message inspires all of us to do better and to remember the promises we made in the temple.

And to those who are suffering because of their spouse’s choices, Elder Bednar made it crystal clear that “unrighteousness by one person cannot hinder or thwart the flow of God’s love, strength, and blessing to another person.” Let yourself find peace in Christ, because “the power of the Lord’s infinite and eternal Atonement can overcome all things, all the time, everywhere, for every person who holds fast to their covenants with Him.”

I also loved President Dallin H. Oaks’ talk. He said: “This is the Church of Jesus Christ, so named because it is His Church with the restored fulness of His doctrine and authority in these latter days.” To me, this perspective explained why this conference felt so centered on Jesus Christ and His doctrine. Whenever we talk about the gospel, we should have Jesus’ name and life in mind. He guides His Church, and to me, listening to General Conference talks that address current issues is evidence of that.

The post The Answer Is Jesus Christ: October 2026 Conference Roundup appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

At least, that’s what I’ve increasingly heard from people discussing LGBTQ+ issues in a faith context. But is it actually true?

With the Salt Lake City Temple open house coming up, the temple is on the collective minds of Latter-day Saints. Within the LGBTQ+ conversation, some have asked how Latter-day Saints who have an experience under that label connect to the temple. Given that same-sex sexual behavior doesn’t meet the standards of chastity required for temple attendance, are Latter-day Saints who experience same-sex attraction being offered the same blessings as everyone else? Does everyone have the same access to temple blessings, and if not, does that need to change?

The Question of Fairness

I remember first going through the temple and experiencing mixed emotions. There was the culture shock of a religious ritual I hadn’t prepared for, paired with a profoundly spiritual witness of its veracity and importance. I looked around at the family members who attended my endowment with me and had a distinct impression that within these walls was the closest we could get to heaven. I saw the divine potential in each of my family members as they stood in the temple’s halls in pure white clothing. My understanding was relatively immature; there were certain aspects I found uncomfortable, but I knew it was something I wanted to experience more.

What the Temple Is For

The temple is a sacred place with a very specific purpose. Its purpose isn’t to reward people whose lives fit a certain mold. Instead, it brings us into covenant with God, shows us our divine potential, and points us toward Christ.

We’re required to live specific standards to be worthy to enter the temple, but those standards are more about preparing us for the highly spiritual temple experience than about a religion controlling our choices. The less we live by the commandments, the further removed we are from the Spirit. The less of the Spirit we have in our lives, the less prepared we will be for the spiritual experience the temple offers through religious ritual. Not to mention, the temple adds more responsibility to our eternal progression. If we aren’t willing or able to keep the standards required to enter the temple, how can we be expected to keep our covenants?

The temple’s belief- and conduct-based standards are the same for everyone. It’s this equal application of the standards and the promised blessings of the temple that makes it a fair system, if still painful at times in practice.

Equal Standards, Unequal Difficulty

This doesn’t mean we should dismiss the real pain of Latter-day Saints who feel like the temple isn’t for them. Whether it’s the complexity of same-sex attraction, the deep wounds of abuse, or the loneliness of single life, their pain is real, and it shouldn’t be dismissed. It’s easy for those of us who find joy in the temple to dismiss the painful realities faced by some of our brothers and sisters. We should look for those whose heads hang a little lower than ours on this topic. We can listen to their pain. And while we don’t have to validate every belief they might have, we can certainly validate the feelings those experiences bring up.

Fairness Depends on What We Believe

In mortality, we often think of fairness as an equal distribution of hardship. That tendency sometimes bleeds over into temple worthiness requirements. If a standard is more complicated for one group to abide by, we may assume it is an unfair standard. And to be fair, that claim might be true if we were only talking about the temple ceremony as a religious rite put on by a religious institution. But that’s not all it is. As the name suggests, it’s an endowment of power and knowledge that puts us in a covenant relationship with God. One of the temple ceremony’s primary functions is to remind us to keep an eternal perspective. It’s this perspective that doesn’t take away the pain but contextualizes any perceived injustices as what they are: temporary. 

It all comes back to belief as the foundation. Do we believe this is God’s church? Do we believe prophets are His spokesmen—men who have the sacred calling of speaking on His behalf, not perfectly, but in a way that will never lead us astray if we follow their counsel? Do we believe temples are God’s house, where we are endowed with power with eternal significance? 

If not, that is our right. But we may need to evaluate what we believe and why the temple is our goal. If we believe this is God’s kingdom on earth, the temple and all we receive as patrons and eventual heirs of God’s kingdom are worth any sacrifice or complexity. We believe in a God who will eventually right every wrong and rectify every injustice. As we read in Revelation, “And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away.”

Costs or Blessings?

Growing up, I always imagined a wife and family. Later, I was told that being authentic meant pursuing a same-sex relationship, or at least accepting that temple marriage was not for me. But that wasn’t what I wanted, and my experiences with God kept pulling me toward the covenant path. Eventually, I met my wife, Amanda. My story is not a prescription for everyone, but it shaped how I see this question.

In my case, I was fortunate to find a life-giving, fulfilling marriage with a woman I love. 

Dean began with an important note about worthiness. 

“There’s nothing about my gayness that says ‘you can’t go to the temple’ or ‘you’re lesser when you’re in the temple.” Then he added, “My being attracted to guys has zero impact on my worthiness to attend the temple. And so if I am willing to live the commandments, then I get to have everything that any other member could have there.” 

He then repeated that idea with this line, which struck me: “There’s nothing within the temple that I can’t do.” Before I could ask him to clarify, he added, “I can do all of the ordinances of the temple. There’s actually only one ordinance that you get to do for others before you do it for yourself, and that’s the sealing. And so even though I’m not sealed to a woman—I’m not married—I can still participate in that ordinance for others.” 

This is what inspired me most about my interview with him. Even though he recognized the difficulty of not having a temple sealing for himself, he also recognized how certain blessings of the temple can extend to those who participate in proxy ordinances. In his mind, the temple is worth any sacrifice:

As good as a relationship with another man could be, I got to choose that or this. And if that’s the case, I’m choosing this … I will eventually have everything that Heavenly Father has. Because eternally, He will not let me miss out.

He concluded with this:

The temple is super important. I know that this is God’s church, and I know that’s a really important part of what we do in our eternal progression: the ordinances that we receive and then do for others in the temple, and also the peace and the love and the revelation that we can receive there.

The policies around what I can do there don’t marginalize me. So I don’t let anybody else marginalize me or marginalize myself by stepping aside.

The temple is the ideal. The city on the hill. The mountain of the Lord. When we talk about the temple or the standards required for entering its doors as unfair, we degrade its power in our lives and the lives of others. We demean its sacredness in an effort to make it more equitable. We bring it down to a terrestrial glory in an effort to fit our mortal standards in a God-shaped hole.

We all wear white in the temple for a reason. Not to say we’re all the same in a worldly sense of equity. But to remind us of our equal value before God, our inner commitment to be holy, and the equal application of blessings available to us.

Our timeline for the blessings promised in the temple may differ for each of us, but the promises aren’t different—that is, as long as we are willing to live the standards and, like Dean so wisely observed, “not marginalize ourselves.”

The post Same Covenants, Different Crosses appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

But there were segments of our culture that saw liberation when they should have seen distress.

On September 21, Paul announced that she was stepping away from the reality program that made her famous, “The Secret Lives of Mormon Wives.” She says she was being bullied by fellow cast members, but her announcement comes in the wake of allegations of domestic violence, her season of “The Bachelorette” being canceled, and ongoing legal issues related to the custody of her children.

In her announcement, she wrote, “I’m just relieved to be out.” She acknowledged the role her own actions had played.

And what if that overeagerness to praise the rejection of religion caused us to miss the crisis that should have been obvious?

Consider the response from Marie Claire’s Australian outlet to the show’s first season. It called the series “surprisingly feminist” and approvingly suggested that its subjects were “women in revolt.” The article concluded by wondering whether the women would “bring the church forward” or ultimately leave it.

This captures a common sentiment at the time—that Paul and her cohort represented a positive step away from the restrictions of high-demand religion. In their view, the show wasn’t taking advantage of struggling individuals; it was highlighting a better way forward.

Of course, from the beginning, many Latter-day Saints saw something different. In the Deseret News, Meagan Kohler and Jacob Hess warned that this language of liberation was obscuring the real damage being done, and wondered whether the religious standards being presented as blasé might actually have been helpful to these women. 

Latter-day Saints were not the only ones to recognize the problem. Naomi Fry wrote similarly in The New Yorker about the bleakness just underneath the surface of the “empowerment” rhetoric. The failure to recognize the harm was never a universal cultural problem. It belonged to a specific cultural reflex, the presupposition that conservative religion is an obstacle to human flourishing and that rejecting it is therefore good. 

The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints understands the simple truth that sexual fidelity is connected to a deeper understanding of family and love. And for Latter-day Saints, this understanding is one crucial component of understanding the purpose of life. 

Severing this tether without a robust philosophical and moral system to replace it would naturally lead to collapse. 

The infidelity that made MomTok a national trend is far from unforgivable. But when we acknowledge that these acts are corrosive, we take a very different path than when we reinterpret them as liberating. 

When a culture doesn’t fully understand or respect religious morality, it can see simple boundaries around fidelity as repression. It recognizes the real cost of self-restraint but fails to recognize the associated rewards. It doesn’t see the broken family or the wounded hearts. 

Contempt for conservative religion can result in a failure of empathy toward the very people being cheered on.

We need to recover the ability to distinguish a person’s freedom to choose from the wisdom of her choices. And we need to stop assuming that disapproval is the same as hostility. Sometimes the people warning about the harms ahead are the people who care about you the most.

I certainly don’t know her heart or her journey. But amid this most recent spiral, I know she announced she was stepping away from the Church. 

In my experience, there is no better resource for rebuilding a life than Jesus Christ and His Church. So, as Paul is now turning to a more private season of her life, I want to invite her back. You said you still believe in Jesus Christ. Bring that faith, bring your questions, and bring your hard-earned experience. There are people here who are rooting for you and your children to build something that will endure for eternity. We want you to have relationships you can trust and a home where you can find and depend on that love.

It’s not easy. There are real choices to be made to build that life. And we’re all struggling in one way or another on that journey. Taylor, you can come home. Join us as we work together to build something better. 

The post Liberation at Whose Expense? appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

Sanford appeared to be motivated by anti-Latter-day Saint bigotry, potentially exacerbated by mental illness and drug use. Four congregants were killed in the attack—two from gunshot wounds and two from the fire—and eight more were wounded. The meetinghouse itself was destroyed. Many victims were lauded as heroes, including two young congregants, both fourth-year emergency medicine resident physicians from nearby Henry Ford Genesys Hospital, who ran back into the burning building multiple times to help others escape. 

Within 48 hours of the attack, Utah resident and Latter-day Saint author Dave Butler, who has no connection to Grand Blanc, started a GiveSendGo fundraiser—not for the victims of the attack (there were already several of those), but for the shooter’s family. You see, Sanford left behind a wife and a young son with a rare genetic disorder that had required multiple surgeries and careful, expensive medical care. Donations flooded in, with many donors indicating that they were Latter-day Saints and that their faith inspired their donations. 

It would have been an extraordinary response to religious hatred even if the story ended there. It didn’t.

Eight weeks later, the BYU football team was scheduled to play the University of Cincinnati. As part of its Cougs Care initiative, which organizes service projects at each of the BYU football away game locations, the BYU Alumni Association held a coat drive with the NAACP that collected more than 600 coats for local children. In addition, The Church of Jesus Christ donated 27,000 pounds of food to Cincinnati’s on-campus Bearcats Pantry to support students facing food insecurity.

Jared Hicken, one of the heroic medical residents in Grand Blanc, and his wife Brandi attended the BYU football game at the University of Cincinnati. Brandi later recalled that after the attack, in which she, Jared, and their 5-year-old had all been wounded by gunshots or shrapnel, she was nervous to be publicly identified as a member of the Church. But she was excited for a “much-needed date night” with her husband, and wanted to “move on from the attack on our church.” She wrote, “We came. We smiled. We cheered. We enjoyed ourselves.” Until what has since become a familiar chant rang out from the student section: “F— the Mormons!” 

Twenty-seven thousand pounds of food. Hundreds of winter coats. Only two months and a few hundred miles away from a mass shooting and arson attack. And still, “F— the Mormons.”

In a 2022 survey conducted by Pew Research Center, only 15% percent of American respondents reported having a favorable view of Latter-day Saints, making them the lowest-rated religious group. Twenty-five percent of respondents reported an unfavorable view, with the remaining 59% indicating either a neutral rating or that they “[didn’t] know enough to say.”

Conversely, Latter-day Saints tend to view members of other faiths quite favorably. Fifty-four percent of Latter-day Saints expressed a favorable view of evangelical Christians, for example, while only 15% of Evangelicals expressed a favorable view of Latter-day Saints (and 27% viewed Latter-day Saints unfavorably). 

The bigotry that members of The Church of Jesus Christ face is nothing like what early Latter-day Saint ancestors faced. And many religious groups, both in the United States and abroad, still presently face serious safety threats and religious persecution. Fortunately, the horrific Michigan shooting was an anomaly, and the football chants, as nasty as they seem—well, we can probably just keep rolling our eyes. 

On the other hand, many Latter-day Saints may look at these events and wonder how we are supposed to respond. We could lament our neighbors’ misunderstanding. We could work harder to correct misconceptions. We could point to the 27,000 pounds of food and ask, What, exactly, can we do more?

But a year after Grand Blanc, here’s a different question to consider. What does our faith ask us when our neighbors don’t seem to like us very much?

A decade before the brutal Michigan attack, Elder Jeffrey R. Holland, then a member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, taught us about the cost—and blessings—of discipleship:

If you haven’t already, you will one day find yourself called upon to defend your faith or perhaps even endure some personal abuse simply because you are a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Such moments will require both courage and courtesy on your part.

Elder Holland did not counsel us to be passive. “Defend your beliefs with courtesy and compassion, but defend them,” he said. Religious bigotry isn’t harmless, and we can respond with more than niceness when it happens. We can correct falsehoods about our beliefs, insist that universities that host Latter-day Saints not allow their students to hurl profanities at us, and defend ourselves when we become targets of religious hatred. 

But even still, none of this releases us from the Christian obligation to love the people reviling us. Jesus Christ was unequivocal on this point: “Love your enemies … do good to them that hate you.” Why?

Sharon Eubank, director of Latter-day Saint Charities, once said of the Church’s humanitarian work, “We do this out of our faith in the love of Jesus Christ. We want to give evidence that we love God by loving our neighbors.” The good we are doing is not a transaction. We love the Lord our God, and that is enough. 

We do not stock a Catholic food pantry so that Catholics will think better of Latter-day Saints. Nor do we partner with Muslims on disaster relief efforts so they will defend us when someone attacks our faith. We do not give 27,000 pounds of food to university students in exchange for respectful behavior from their student section. We feed people because they are hungry. And if they don’t like us afterward? We feed them anyway. 

Religious service can easily become tangled up with our desire to be liked and understood. Latter-day Saints are human—we want to be liked, we want to be included. But Christian charity is not public relations work. The person receiving our love does not need to return it for that love to have been worth giving. 

But sometimes something interesting happens anyway.

Last year, Emma Simon, a Jewish student at Princeton University and a fellow with the American Jewish Committee, traveled to Salt Lake City as part of AJC’s Interreligious Mission. Simon came to Salt Lake knowing a little bit about our faith. She had spent weeks researching Church history, beliefs, and practices in preparation for the trip. In an article about her trip, she later explained that her feelings about our religious beliefs were “not simple. I am challenged by some of the political and social policy positions they take.”

But then she visited Welfare Square and the Church’s Humanitarian Center. And there, she encountered a religious community at work. “The amount of good the Church does is undeniable,” she later wrote. After her visit, she did not join the Church, nor did she change her beliefs on the conservative policy positions that the Church takes. But she did leave knowing us a little better.

I think sometimes we expect interfaith relationships to develop in one sort of way—we talk, we understand each other, we trust each other, and if all goes well, we cooperate. But sometimes that process goes backward. Sometimes we cooperate first. Catholic Charities of Oregon, for example, operates nine food pantries stocked with food from the Latter-day Saint bishops’ storehouse. Those pantries serve nearly 400 people each week. Latter-day Saint volunteers also work with Catholic Charities to resettle refugees, meeting newly arrived families at airports and helping prepare their apartments. Catholic Charities calls the two organizations “close partners.”

The Church has been working with Islamic Relief USA for more than two decades. In 2004 alone, the two organizations worked together to send millions of dollars in humanitarian aid to Iraq, Sudan, and Bangladesh. They partnered again after the Indian Ocean tsunami. Islamic Relief later described the Church not merely as its oldest interfaith partner, but as its “oldest partnership.”

In Albuquerque, Catholic Charities runs a summer program for refugee families from Arab, Afghan, and African communities. Many of the families are Muslim. The program takes place in a Latter-day Saint meetinghouse, with church members volunteering alongside Catholics. On many summer days, the building fills with cooking workshops, sewing classes, art classes, and people speaking different languages and practicing different faiths.

And in my favorite example: the Christmas before the Grand Blanc shooting, Detroit received its first Giving Machine. Using the machine, visitors could donate money toward:

• Zaman International, a Michigan-based Muslim nonprofit organization that supports women and children in extreme poverty. Money donated to Zaman went to healthy halal meals for local Muslim families in need, ESL instruction, winter coats for single mothers and their children, and refugee housewarming kits.
• Catholic Charities of Southeast Michigan. Giving Machine donations funded their Walking with Moms in Need program, providing critical resources, clothing, and basic necessities for mothers and infants. 
• Jewish Family Services of Washtenaw County. Donations funded kosher meals for local Jewish families in need, emergency overnight shelter services, and gas cards for people who are newly employed after a period of unemployment.
• The Pope Francis Center, a support center in Detroit for the chronically homeless. Donations went to warm winter socks and boots, clean clothes and bedding, and warm shoes and bus passes. 

Nobody has to settle the nature of the Trinity before unloading a truck or agree about prophets before packing a box of food. It is actually liberating to have a problem outside of ourselves to solve together. Maybe we are approaching interfaith understanding backward. We assume that understanding must precede cooperation. But often cooperation produces familiarity, familiarity produces trust, and trust makes true understanding possible. It doesn’t always work. But sometimes.

After the Grand Blanc attack, we as Latter-day Saints truly had many friends who mourned with us as we mourned. Jewish, Muslim, Catholic, Protestant, and other religious communities condemned the violence and reached out with a hand of support. 

And then about six months later, another Michigan house of worship was attacked—Temple Israel in West Bloomfield. The FBI director described it as targeted violence against the Jewish community. 

Now it was our turn to mourn with them. At an interfaith Seder later shortly after the attack, Amy Sapeika of the American Jewish Committee’s Detroit office said that interfaith partners immediately reached out to her with calls, texts and emails expressing solidarity and condemning the attack, and she specifically identified Latter-day Saints in Grand Blanc among those who reached out with comfort and offers to help. “We’re really grateful for their friendship,” she said.

No theological disagreements had disappeared, but instead of seeing each other as organizations with competing religious claims, they recognized each other as neighbors. 

Elder Holland said that “pure Christlike love flowing from true righteousness can change the world.” And sometimes we get to see that change. A Jewish college student comes to Utah skeptical of our beliefs and leaves with something new to think about. Catholics and Latter-day Saints with very different doctrines spend years side by side feeding hungry families. Muslims and Latter-day Saints find common ground as they support refugees coming to the United States to start a new life. 

And sometimes we will still get “F— the Mormons.” The Christlike love we give should not depend on what response we get. Because the better measure of interfaith service is not whether our neighbors understand us better when we are finished. It is whether we have loved them better. Sometimes understanding and friendship follow. Sometimes they don’t. 

Keep serving anyway.

The post Feed Them Anyway appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

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Kellie Leavitt and Lacey West share a lot in common. They’re both members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints from Southeast Idaho, they’re both raising young children, and they both moved to Grand Blanc, Michigan, in 2023 for their husbands’ residency trainings.

They were also both attending church with their young families one year ago in Grand Blanc when an attacker rammed a truck into the building, set it on fire, and shot at church members as they fled the burning building. 

In the year since, they have worked hard to process and move on from the horrifying events of that day. In this interview, they share what healing through Christ has looked like for them and their close-knit congregation since the attack.

Editor’s Note: This interview has been edited for length, clarity, and style, and Kellie Leavitt and Lacey West have approved the edits.

Anna Bryner: Your families were both there with you that day. What were those next few weeks like as you tried to pull the pieces back together for your families and also for the ward?

Kellie Leavitt: So the first couple of weeks kind of felt like we were in limbo. Everybody taking time off work, trying to figure out our new normal, figuring out next steps—where we were going to meet again, what plans were going forward. And then we had four funerals in the next couple of weeks. So it was kind of this weird limbo time where we weren’t doing our normal thing, kids weren’t doing their normal things.

But we all would find each other at every little meeting that we had. I think we ended up at somebody’s work doing food and coloring pictures for the first responders, and there were little gatherings like that over the next few weeks. Every time we would end up there, it was like hugs all around. You hugged every person you saw.

One particular phrase you’d say or someone else would say to you is “I’m so glad to see you.” And it took on this whole other meaning. It was a time of really coming together and getting closer to each other, for sure.

Lacey West: Yeah, I would definitely agree. Lots of very heartfelt and sincere, “I’m so glad to see you,” or, “I’m so grateful you’re here.”

Everything that Kellie said—that weird limbo. Kids weren’t really going to school because they were scared, and as a parent, I was scared to send my daughter to school. We weren’t really going to church because we didn’t have a building anymore, and people were taking work off. So limbo is a really, really good way to describe it.

There were meetups at parks, and people saying, “Hey, these wards from all across the U.S. have sent toys for the Primary kids—coloring books, crayons, busy boards, and all this stuff.” So we’d go to the park and walk away with a ton of new toys and things for the kids. The outpouring of love was amazing. Even now, our Primary especially is still getting sent gifts from other wards, hand-drawn cards, and pictures. There were tons of little get-togethers for, “Hey, a ward sent this for the Relief Society,” or, “Hey, all the youth meet here, because there was a gift sent to you from this ward.” Just so much service and so much was being done to try to provide comfort to all of us in such a difficult time.

Kellie: I would even say, within our ward itself, we were trying to find ways to serve each other. Obviously it wasn’t necessary, but I went to a sister’s house who had just had a baby, and I took her dinner because I wanted to—it was a way for me to help serve and try to provide comfort. In that short time I stopped by, there were three other people there checking on them, too! It was like that with everybody. So much love and outpouring from everyone, including members of our ward, which is part of what made us draw so much closer.

Anna: How would you say that you and your families have worked through the fear that came after this?

Lacey: I think for me, it mostly came down to trying to be brave enough to do it and to go out, reminding ourselves that this is not the norm. There’s definitely people out there who hate the church, sure. There are people who don’t like it or have really strong opinions about us. But at the end of the day, most of those people would never act the way that the attacker did. Reminding myself of that helped. While there is a lot of hatred out there, that was not the norm and that’s not something that’s going to happen all the time.

There were lots of prayers said:  just asking to have the bravery to go out and face the world and do things again. At the end of the day, the world keeps turning and life keeps happening. So it’s either hunker down and sit in your house and be scared because you had a bad experience, or you stand tall, “be strong and of good courage,” and walk outside. You say, “Okay, we’re going to keep living life. I’m not going to let this person who did something horrible win by making me afraid to go out, live my life, share the gospel, and let people know I am a member of the Church and I’m proud of that.” If I were to go hide away in my house, then he wins, or people like that win.

So just lots of prayers to have that bravery and courage to go out. And I say that, but I am still a little scared sometimes. It’s not like I just decided to be brave and now I am. I’m still scared, and there are still lots of things that are hard to do and hard to approach after an experience like that. We’re a year away from that event, and there are still lots of prayers being said for bravery and courage. I’m sure there will be even more.

Or silly things—I was sitting in church one week, probably like three months ago, and I had a diaper bag next to me blocking the end of the aisle. In my mind, I’m like, That bag is in my way if I need to run. Things like that do still come up, but you kind of have to force yourself to do these things so you can get back into it, be comfortable, and be confident going back to church again.

That first Sunday that we went back to church was hard, but we knew that was something that we wanted to continue to have in our lives because it was important. So you have to give yourself this push to get there, to make yourself used to it again, and to know that—like Lacey said—it’s not the norm to have something like that happen. Millions of people go to church every week and it never happens to them. It just so happened that it happened to us. So you have to realize that it’s going to be okay most of the time.

We’ve just had to lean on people, lean on God, and trust that we’re going to be okay again. It takes time, but it’s getting there.

Anna: In the last year, as you’ve worked through all the emotions of this, what have you learned about Christ?

Kellie: We had a devotional Tuesday night after the attack, and Elder Bednar came. He said a lot of wonderful things, but what I remember most specifically is he told us he wanted us to sing “Gethsemane,” and we were going to sing it two times. He gave us his apostolic blessing that as we sang, we would find something in the song to help us start healing. Specifically in the song, it talks about Jesus dragging His feet—His steps were heavy and slow—and He took all that was bad, wicked or sad, all the pain we would ever know.

To me, during that song, it solidified that Christ knows all of our pain—not just what we do to ourselves, but things that other people do to us. It wasn’t easy for Him, but He chose to do it. That’s what I think makes it so powerful. Being able to give Him the fear, the pain, and the sadness has made a world of difference. It’s probably made the difference between being where I am now and being in complete depression and utter fear.

Lacey: Yeah, I definitely agree with all that. For me, a big one is that healing—even healing through Christ—takes time.

At the beginning, within the first few weeks after everything, there were some people who had these rock-solid testimonies and all this faith, and were in such a peaceful place. I remember thinking, Wow, I must not have enough faith, because I just don’t feel that way at all. I don’t feel like I’m in a good place. I’m scared. I’m still having such a hard time. Maybe I’m just not faithful enough.

I’ve come to know through my own journey of healing that it’s not a lack of faith, and it’s definitely not a lack of God in my life. It’s just that sometimes healing takes time. You see the scripture stories where people touch Christ’s garment or say they have faith, and He heals them instantly. Sometimes we think that’s how it’s supposed to be: I have faith, so I should just be healed from this. The reality is that’s not always the case. Healing takes time, even when you have Christ as your constant companion through that healing.

Like Kellie said, I know Jesus Christ suffered in the Garden of Gethsemane not only for my sins, but also for all the pain I would ever feel—so that when I went through this, He could look at me and understand perfectly how I felt. He knows that bone-deep fear. He knows that feeling in your gut of, I don’t know what to do next, I’m scared. He felt it with me through the whole experience and through this whole healing process. He is still very much by my side.

The scriptures teach us to endure to the end. If the end was supposed to be just a few faithful prayers and a good night’s sleep away, then there wouldn’t be much enduring happening. Enduring means long-term sometimes. That means healing is going to take a while, and that doesn’t mean that the Lord’s not there with you. It just means that maybe you need some time, and that’s okay. He’s going to be with you that whole time, guide you through it, and be your constant companion. He is going to walk that road with you patiently, go at your pace, and help you through it—no matter how long it takes.

Anna: Those are both such beautiful experiences. I’m curious: Based on what you’ve learned, if you could go back a year and tell yourself something right after this happened, what would it be?

Lacey: I think I would just want to remind myself to be patient with the process of healing, not try to rush it, and just have faith. They say “have faith in the Lord’s timing,” and I think that’s so much easier said than done when you’re actually waiting on the Lord’s timing! But the Lord is with you through that whole healing process, no matter how long it takes.

You have to be patient with yourself, be patient with the Lord, and understand that through this, you are becoming stronger. Through this pain and sorrow, you are growing. There is a light at the end of the tunnel. You’re not going to be afraid of the world forever. You’re not going to be afraid to go to church forever. You’re not going to be afraid every time you hear a loud noise forever. It’s going to stop, it’s going to go away, and it’s going to be okay. You just have to be patient with yourself, with your faith, with your healing, and with the Lord.

Kellie: Those are great points. Healing is not perfectly linear, that’s the big thing. I think I would tell myself to be patient on those days that it’s hard again. 

Anna: Now that we’re a year out from the attack, where would you say the ward is at? I’m sure everybody is individually at a different place with how they’re healing, but where do you feel like the ward has landed in terms of recovery? 

Lacey: I would say there’s a wide range of emotions. There are people who are feeling rock solid—bearing their testimonies, feeling strengthened, feeling good, and having fully forgiven the things that happened. And there are people on the other side of that too, who are still angry or sad. There are people still grieving, of course, and grief is one of those emotions that you carry for your whole life in different ways.

So there’s a wide variety of emotions, but the thing you see as a constant with everyone is that there is just a desire to take care of each other. Even the ones who I think are struggling the most just want to take care of people and help each other through this. That speaks volumes of what our Church stands for in general—that we don’t just show up and go through the motions of sacrament meeting and second hour and then go home. We show up and we are a family. We’re a community. We’re going to look out for each other, provide meals, and sit with each other and listen when you need someone to listen.

I always think about how Christ is the one who does the work and changes hearts, but as members of the church, we get to be His hands when it comes to serving others. Regardless of where members of the ward are in terms of healing from the pain, grief, sorrow, or anger, one thing we all have in common is that everyone just wants to really take care of the ward family and look out for each other. That was an attribute that was already in our ward before, but it has doubled since the event.

Kellie: Adding to that, there has been no lack of faith in God and faith in Christ. I think we all kind of expected there to be a few people that quit coming to church, but that was not something that I noticed. Everybody still came every week that they could. Everybody still has a strong testimony of Christ. There were so many things that happened following the attack that strengthened everybody’s testimony in Christ and faith in God in some small way. There was no wavering, no lack of faith in that way.

I do feel like we felt displaced, and I’m sure everyone still is feeling displaced just because the ward started going to the Flint building, which is a smaller building. It doesn’t quite fit all of us, so it feels tight, and we know it’s a temporary thing. But we are grateful that the Flint Ward was so accommodating and willing to move over, make room for us, and bring us in. It has become our second home, but it’s a little rocky while we wait to get back to normal, if that makes sense.

Anna: You mentioned that so many things happened after that strengthened faith. Are there any stories or experiences that stand out from that?

Kellie: There were so many people who felt so compelled and called to serve, and you’d feel them reach out to you at the right moment. On days that felt so much harder, I’d get a letter in the mail from somebody I hadn’t spoken to in eight years expressing their love, or I’d get a call on a random night when I was having a hard time. It always felt like there was somebody reaching out and lifting you up right when you needed it.

There were a lot of stories coming from others in our ward—and I won’t share names for their privacy—who described doing something that day they wouldn’t usually do. They thought, Huh, that’s weird, why did I do that? Then looking back later, you realize God put you there for that reason to help somebody, or God put a person in a certain spot so they could avoid the attacker.

Lacey and I left together. We had our cars parked right next to each other, and that day, my husband parked backwards from how we usually do. Usually we would pull in facing the building behind somebody, so when we left, we would have to back out. But instead, he backed in, so all we had to do was hop in and drive!

So we got out to our car, and Lacey was right next to us in her car. We hopped in the car and started driving out. It’s little things like that where I know God guided us so that we would be out of harm’s way.

Lacey: 100%! That day, I wore pants to church. I don’t think I’ve ever worn pants to church a day in my life, but randomly I was just like, “Yeah, that sounds like a good outfit.” I wore flats—I never wear flats! I always wear heels, I’m a heels girlie, but I wore flats that day.

My son was only eight weeks old. Usually I would get to church and nurse him in the mother’s lounge before going into sacrament meeting, but that day I decided to nurse him before leaving the house. Because of that, I was in the chapel, meaning I was much more aware of what was happening than if I had been in the mother’s lounge, which is closed off and hidden away in the bathroom. We very likely would have been trapped in the building while it was burning.

Just those little different decisions! The fact that Kellie and I parked next to each other. When the attacker rammed his truck into the building and I realized something was wrong, I grabbed my five-year-old daughter in one arm and my eight-week-old in the other and ran out. In the chaos of grabbing both kids, I forgot to grab my keys out of the diaper bag. If I hadn’t been parked next to Kellie and Chase, I don’t know what we would have done! I got to my car, told my daughter to hide on the floor, and thought, We’re just going to have to hide in the car, I don’t have a way to get out.

The fact that we happened to park next to Kellie and Chase—I happened to be out of the building before them so I could see them running to their car and realize, Oh, they’re right next to me, they’ve got their keys, I’m going to get my kids and hop in with them! Every little detail about the timing was so—it seemed like such little nothing things at the time, but afterwards I realized: If I had worn a dress or heels, would I have been able to run as fast? If I had parked anywhere else, what would I have done?

I lost my dad a year before the shooting. We were close—like talking on the phone every day close. He was my best friend. After the shooting, I just wanted to call him and talk to him so bad, and obviously I couldn’t. A few days later, my kids were in bed, it was late, and I was saying a prayer: “Could You just tell my dad what happened? I’m sure he saw, but can You let him know what happened and tell me, was he worried about me? What was he thinking?”

I got one of the strongest promptings I’ve had in my whole life: Lacey, he was there, and he held you. I got this image in my head of me running down the hall with my kids, and my dad behind me pushing my kids in tight to me. When I was running, I remember feeling like my kids were being squeezed into me, but I hadn’t put together what that really meant until that spiritual moment. Of course there were angels there!

I’ve heard other members of the ward say the same thing—that they felt like there were angels that helped them run faster, or told them, “Go out this door, not this door,” guiding them to take the path that got them out of harm’s way. It makes me realize how thin the veil really is. There’s no doubt in my mind that there were heavenly presences there that day guiding our steps to protect everyone.

Anna: Wow. That’s amazing. Is there anything else that you wanted to share about this last year or that experience that you haven’t had a chance to yet?

When I think of my own journey, He is the Good Shepherd leading me through this field of grief, sorrow, pain, and fear. It’s still a big field and a big journey ahead. Just because He’s our Shepherd doesn’t mean the field or threats disappear. There are still going to be hardships, pain, and days that PTSD flares up worse than others. But the Shepherd never leaves. He’s still guiding His flock.

For those who maybe struggled the way I did—feeling like a lack of fast healing was a lack of faith—I cannot stress enough that is just not the case. The Lord did not abandon us that day. He was there. Just because that didn’t stop the attack from happening doesn’t mean He wasn’t there protecting us, just as a good shepherd should. We will never understand why everything happened as it did, or why some people were hurt or lost their lives, and others didn’t, but we can understand that the Lord still sought to protect us and help us.

Psalm 23:4 talks about, “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.” Sometimes you have to walk through the valley of the shadow of death. That’s just reality. Having faith doesn’t mean you will never walk through that valley, but you don’t have to be afraid, because He is right there with you.

If right now you are in that valley or in the trenches, you are not alone. Keep looking to Him. He knows your pain so perfectly; He would never leave you in that valley alone. He is going to guide you through it and walk with you the whole way.

Kellie: That’s so beautiful. Right after it happened, one of our friends’ little girls said, “Mom, we’re supposed to be safe at church.” That absolutely broke my heart, because I agree with that. We assume we go to church and we’re safe.

It happened because people have agency. The man that attacked us had his agency, and God had to let him do what he was going to do. But like Lacey said, we were not abandoned, and we were not alone. As long as we remember that He is there for us, you’re going to feel His presence.

The other thing I would say coming out of this whole experience: It is so important to record your strong spiritual experiences and your testimony. A week or two after the attack, I made a voice memo talking myself through the timeline, the devotional, and all the spiritual experiences we had. There were so many little details I had already forgotten that reaffirmed everything and made it so much more powerful. I firmly believe in writing down those things as they happen so that when you’re having those tougher days, you can look back on it and let it boost you again.

Anna: I have been so touched by everything you both shared. Thank you both.

The post Healing After the Michigan Attack appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

As an eight-hour weekend event, General Conference can feel both joyful and overwhelming. On the one hand, our hearts can feel full of joy as the Spirit touches our hearts during hours of messages. But with so many messages and invitations, it may also feel like we’re being told an infinite number of things to do and become, sometimes leaving us discouraged.

I don’t believe that this is what Heavenly Father wants us to feel. Although we should take the counsel given seriously and honestly identify how we can improve, I believe that General Conference is meant to give us instruction to help us become who God knows we can become, not to shame us for our shortcomings.

In seeking to keep General Conference a joyful experience rather than an overwhelming one, I try to focus on what the prophet teaches and make it my top priority to follow his counsel. Beyond that, I have found some other principles that have helped me approach General Conference in a healthier, happier way.

1. Remember that spiritual progress in one area reinforces progress in others.

When I was younger, I used to listen to General Conference and make myself a very long list of things to change. I’d plaster my room with note cards of inspirational quotes and hope that I’d be able to become all of these things. 

Sometimes I made good progress on a few things. But many of my goals went unmet because I couldn’t focus on so many goals at once. I finally admitted that my approach wasn’t working. 

The late apostle Robert D. Hales taught that developing one Christlike attribute actually helps us develop others. “The attributes of the Savior … are interwoven characteristics, added one to another, which develop in us in interactive ways,” he said. “In other words, we cannot obtain one Christlike characteristic without also obtaining and influencing others. As one characteristic becomes strong, so do many more.”

For instance, in my efforts to follow President Nelson and President Oaks’ call for us to develop the gift of charity and become peacemakers, I have noticed that I have been growing in the spiritual gift of patience (which I desperately needed!). And as I feel Christ’s love for others, my faith in Christ grows, leading me to want to better follow Him. 

Scripture frequently teaches about how spiritual gifts, the doctrine of Christ, and Christlike attributes are all interrelated. “Faith unto repentance.” “If a man have faith he must needs have hope.” These phrases show that focusing on one area will inadvertently lead to improvement in another.

2. Pace your progress.

Imagine listening to 1 Nephi through early Alma in a weekend, then trying to implement everything you learned from the stories, teachings, and invitations.

That is roughly the same amount of time that we spend listening to four sessions of General Conference. Sure, we have music and prayers mixed in to break up the talks. But it is still a lot of information!

We don’t have to change everything at once. Although we tend to think of General Conference as a one-weekend event, it can be helpful to view it as the start of a six-month study period. The talks are delivered all at once initially, but we can then give each talk its own study and focus in the coming months.

The Lord does not expect us to “run faster than we are able.” He does ask us to identify what is “needful.”

If we focus on studying 1-2 talks per week, we can realistically work through all of them before the next conference. That is a slow enough pace to make progress on understanding each talk and applying at least some of its principles. 

The new Sunday schedule provides increased opportunity to study each of these talks and learn from our ward members about their insights. We can also study talks in the order we feel we need them in our lives at a particular time. The progress is expected to be gradual, not all at once after Conference Weekend.

3. Find hope in the stories.

Sometimes the stories in General Conference may feel like they would never happen to us. We often hear stories that have reached a resolution, while our own might not have yet. Or we may hear of someone handling a challenge better than we think we would. While the stories are true, the limited time in which they are told may not account for all the patient waiting, complexity, and emotional difficulty that were part of them.

Sometimes, when we hear the stories in General Conference, we imagine they are only happening to people who meet an impossible standard of righteousness we will never attain. But this is not true. Over time, I have come to know a few of the people in General Conference stories. This has given me a more realistic view; the people in them are sincere and good Latter-day Saints, but they are not perfect, either. They are usually just ordinary people trying to follow Christ. This reminds me that the Lord can work miraculous things in my life, despite my shortcomings.

I am grateful that General Conference contains inspiring stories. If it didn’t, how encouraging would that be? But rather than comparing our stories to others’, we can take strength and inspiration in seeing that God works for the good of His children. I sometimes find myself in circumstances where these stories inspire me to handle a challenge a little more like Christ, even when it feels much easier to let the natural (wo)man rule.  

4. Be open to messages affecting you later.

Sometimes, because of where we are in life when we watch General Conference, certain messages might not immediately touch us. Some might even upset us. I have had to learn that my emotional reaction to a talk doesn’t determine its truth or its relevance. 

We may hear the true principle that God answers prayers but feel frustrated because we are still waiting. We may hear the principle that God’s plan is a plan of happiness but feel angry that we are experiencing grief. We may hear messages about eternal families but feel disappointed that this goal feels out of reach.

Receiving the messages from General Conference in our hearts takes humility. In his first worldwide address as prophet, President Dallin H. Oaks taught, “[Humility] will help us overcome questions about the Lord’s doctrine. When we are humble, we can more clearly hear the Lord’s voice.” I often need to pray for a softened heart before the Lord will let a spiritual truth sink into my spiritual understanding. 

We should also remember that although General Conference talks are intended to help us as individuals, they are also directed to the entire Church. With so many different circumstances that Church members face across the world, some talks may feel more or less naturally relevant to us. In addition, General Conference talks in more recent years have often focused more on broadly applicable principles of following Jesus Christ than providing highly specific direction. This is probably also due to the Church’s internationalization and to the effort to find higher and holier ways of teaching. Instruction is often more principle-based and less application-based, similar to the approach to the new For the Strength of Youth manual. Sometimes I feel disappointed that the talks are not more directed to my personal challenges. Yet I have come to realize that, often, they are: I just need to do the spiritual work of understanding the principles well enough to apply them to my particular circumstances. 

Approaching General Conference with Joy

I am looking forward to General Conference with great anticipation. I hope that, by applying these strategies, we can avoid General Conference overwhelm and instead feel the simple joy that following the Gospel of Jesus Christ provides.

The post Conference Without the Checklist appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

At the same time, many observers have noted that the mental health field, rather than relying primarily on replicable research, has become increasingly focused on politics and ideology, particularly ideologies grounded in critical theory and social justice activism. This is especially evident in many graduate counselor training programs, where students are frequently taught that power is the central lens through which society should be understood, and that the world is divided between two main groups: oppressors and the oppressed. Rather than helping clients recognize how to manage their own symptoms, students may be taught that mental distress is often the result of oppressive systems that must be overturned before clients can become truly healthy, leaving clients feeling victimized and helpless.

Further, students today are immersed in a culture that suggests that the key to mental wellness lies in following one’s feelings, particularly those related to sex and gender, in order to be one’s “authentic self.” This worldview is reflected in many areas of mental health training and professional guidance. 

If you are considering therapy for yourself or your child, it may seem daunting to find an appropriate provider in such an environment. What can you do to identify a reputable therapist who can help you pursue your mental health goals while supporting your values rather than imposing a personal, politicized agenda?

Here is a guide you might use as you carefully screen potential therapists for yourself or your child.

Understanding Clinical Scope and Ethics

First, it’s important to understand exactly what a particular therapist is qualified to treat and how they go about treatment. A therapist’s license does not necessarily mean that the therapist has the skills to address your particular concerns or that the therapist will be a good fit for your values. 

Further, the therapeutic relationship is a key part of therapy. Clients should feel respected by their therapist, but they should not expect the therapist to agree with them on everything, nor should they feel obligated to agree with the therapist. A good therapist may sometimes challenge a client’s assumptions, behaviors, or perspectives when doing so serves the client’s goals, but should not pressure the client to adopt the therapist’s personal values or worldview.

Prospective clients should also note the difference between life coaching and therapy. Therapists are regulated, must meet certain training requirements and ethical standards, and can diagnose and treat mental health disorders. Life coaches are unregulated—basically, anyone can decide to be one—and are not authorized to provide mental health therapy.

It is helpful to find a particular therapist’s website and social media profile when available. The Psychology Today website is a useful resource because it gives information such as years in practice, insurance accepted, and modalities used. A therapist’s online presence can also give you an idea of the therapist’s personality and approach. Note that when therapists frequently quote themselves and post numerous personal photos on social media, those patterns can give insight into what they likely emphasize.

Also, if a therapist discloses personal information on social media, be aware that some professional codes of ethics caution therapists about personal disclosure. If the therapist uses personal experiences to influence potential clients’ decisions and beliefs, that behavior can be a red flag. One example of this is when therapists distance themselves from their religion, share their criticisms of that religion on social media, and promote their practice of working with clients who are struggling with faith challenges—particularly when their clients may not have decided whether to stay or leave. Another example is when therapists share their experiences about divorce online and then seem to hold marriage lightly as they counsel clients, which may not fit with clients who hope to work through their marital challenges rather than resort to divorce. 

Vetting, Qualifications, and Affiliations

If possible, have a brief conversation with the therapist beforehand. Let the therapist know the goals you would like to work toward, and ask whether and how the therapist can support you in pursuing them. Ask the therapist how he or she works with clients who have political, ideological, or religious beliefs that are different from the therapist’s. 

Keep in mind that when a therapist identifies an issue as a treatment area, this does not necessarily indicate expertise in that area. Be wary of excessively long lists of treatment areas, especially when therapists are young or new to the field. Ask the therapist what training, certification, or treatment experience the therapist has had regarding the issue that is of concern to you, and what modalities the therapist uses. Take note of the answers and look up the information online to verify that the therapist’s approach aligns with best practices.

Decoding Jargon and Ideological Posture

When you see jargon on a therapist’s profile, it’s important to know what those terms might actually be indicating. 

The mental health field often uses terms that don’t mean what a layperson might assume. For example, you might read “sex positivity” and assume it means a positive approach to sexuality in marriage, whereas the mental health field more often uses the term to indicate an openness to and acceptance of almost any sexual practice so long as mutual consent is involved. Further, the term “affirming” might be understood to mean that the therapist is supportive of the individual, but it more often means that the therapist will accept and validate a person’s self-described identity or behaviors without necessarily exploring the experiences and circumstances that may be relevant to understanding them. 

If a therapist uses terms such as “religious trauma,” “religious deconstruction,” or “faith transition,” know that many such therapists are not neutral when it comes to religion, particularly so-called “high-demand” religions. Some therapists do valuable work in these areas, but the mental health field in general tilts in a skeptical direction away from traditional Christian values. From what I have observed, specializing in “faith transitions” often means helping clients leave their faith. If religious issues are among your concerns, ask questions to learn more about a particular therapist’s perspective and approach, and pay attention to your own spiritual promptings about their answers.

Protecting Faith and Family Dynamics

It’s also important to identify therapists who will not try to undermine your desire to work on relationships or build your faith.

Be aware that not all therapists necessarily recognize the importance of family relationships. Today, going “no contact” with family members who do not actively endorse one’s decisions or who hold views considered disagreeable has become a trend. Some family members may be genuinely abusive or otherwise harmful, and distancing oneself may be appropriate or necessary in such cases. But relationships are complex. It is too easy in the bubble of the therapy room to conclude that ending relationships is an appropriate solution to a complex set of problems. Find a therapist who wants to support you in strengthening family relationships where possible.

If you are seeking therapy for your minor child, ask how you will be involved in therapy. As a parent, you should be a partner in the therapeutic process and should be able to have some communication with the therapist. It may also be beneficial for you to ask to participate in some sessions with your child.

Making the Decision

After making a decision to try a particular therapist, it’s generally a good idea to have several sessions before concluding that a therapist is not the right fit. But if you have clear indications that your values are not going to be respected, it is entirely appropriate to seek a different therapist at any time.

Good therapists are careful and ethical in their practice and are committed to helping clients achieve meaningful mental health outcomes. They recognize that clients may hold values, beliefs, and life experiences that differ from their own, and they strive to understand and respect those differences while helping clients work toward their goals. As with many other important decisions in life, finding the right therapist requires thoughtful consideration. When seeking help for deeply personal challenges, taking the time to find the right therapist is worth the effort.

The post Before You Choose a Therapist appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

Under Utah’s amended law, when a user creates an account, app stores must determine the user’s age, then developers must use that information to determine whether the user may download a particular app. Simply relying on children to honestly type a birthday doesn’t count; distributors are responsible for making sure children aren’t getting unrestricted access to inappropriate content. Second, stores and developers must get parental consent before minors download apps or make in-app purchases. This gives parents a meaningful opportunity to approve or decline what their children access. Utah’s app store law goes into effect in 2027.

While no silver bullet exists for completely blocking harmful content from children’s access, this law reflects an important shift in thinking: protecting children online cannot fall solely on parents. The companies that make, distribute, or profit from digital products must share that responsibility. 

This shared responsibility becomes increasingly important in a world saturated with sexual media—pornographic images and videos across social media platforms, AI apps that make people appear nude in images or provide sexual companions, and smartphones that make it all instantly accessible. Children today are growing up in a world where smartphones, social media, and countless apps are just part of life. But those very tools kids use for homework, entertainment, and friendships can also place pornography just a few taps away. Expecting parents to shoulder that burden alone is unrealistic.

A research review from the Wheatley Institute and the Institute for Family Studies (IFS) details just how severe the problem of underage access to pornography is. Far from being a rare occurrence, pornography exposure has become a common part of growing up, and use is now widespread among children and teens. Most children encounter pornography before they turn 18, and many are exposed during late elementary or middle school—between the ages of 10 and 14. By age 13, half of boys report intentionally seeking out pornography, with girls following only a few years later.

What does repeated exposure to this kind of content teach children about intimacy, consent, and healthy relationships? Even when pornography doesn’t fall into the extreme categories mentioned above, exposure can distort children’s healthy development. Research suggests pornography can shape how adolescents think, behave, and relate to others. It’s linked to riskier sexual behaviors, unhealthier attitudes about sex, higher sexual aggression, greater risk of compulsive pornography use later on, and poorer mental health outcomes. 

Perhaps most concerning, these effects don’t necessarily end with adolescence. The consequences of early pornography use can continue, undermining young people’s ability to build the stable relationships, marriages, and families that are closely linked with personal and societal well-being. 

While pornography is a major risk children can face online, it’s far from the only one. Platforms with messaging functions—think social media, dating apps, or online gaming—can give adult strangers a direct line to vulnerable children. This means that, without factors like age verification and parental consent as barriers, bad actors can target children from behind closed doors and lead a conversation into coercion, abuse, and other serious harm. 

These contacts are quite prevalent. In 2025 alone, the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children received 1.4 million reports concerning online enticement, including more than 80,000 involving sextortion—the threatening of others into sending explicit images online. In this report from Thorn, more than one in five kids surveyed said they’d had an online sexual interaction with someone believed to be an adult, and 54% of kids reported that online grooming is a common experience for kids their age. 

A majority of kids believe that sexual encounters with adults online are a common experience. This is a sobering fact. Dozens and dozens of apps offer communication features, so when child safety isn’t prioritized, ill-meaning strangers suddenly have access to a population they shouldn’t. Parents can’t monitor each click and each conversation, so it’s vital that tech companies step up and help.

Of course, tech providers can’t shield children from every potentially dangerous online experience, so that’s why allowing parents to be more involved in their children’s online activities provides a protective factor. Even after the app store law goes into effect, there may still be harmful algorithms that lead to poor body image or self-harm issues. There may still be cyberbullying, addictive features, and privacy concerns. And there may still be characteristics of the online world that are inherently exploitative of children. 

But requiring app stores and developers to obtain parental consent before minors get involved in this world puts control in parents’ hands. The worry of children downloading an app or making an account behind their parents’ backs lessens, and parents can be involved in deciding which platforms do or don’t have access to their children.

Utah’s app store law is a step toward protecting children from those risks because it recognizes this truth: the companies that build, distribute, and profit from digital products need to prioritize children’s safety too.

But it is only a step. Utah, the nation, and lawmakers everywhere should pursue additional policies that share responsibility for protecting children online and put children’s online well-being ahead of corporate profit and technological convenience. Continued focus on practices like age verification, parental involvement, and industry transparency can create valuable safeguards against the devastating influence of pornography and other developmentally damaging online content. 

If we’re serious about protecting children online, we have to consider all the influences on children’s digital experiences. Technology companies certainly play a significant role, and they should share responsibility for protecting children.

The post Who Protects Children Online? appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

Almost two years ago, I stood before a judge who administered an oath requiring me to “support, obey and defend the Constitution of the United States.”

As a newly admitted lawyer, this felt like a sacred honor. My burning interest in constitutional law drove me to law school. Now I had sworn to be one of its defenders. I now had a formal role to play in upholding its principles.

There’s something important about taking an oath. It establishes an obligation to a principle, even when honoring that obligation is hard. I take my constitutional oath very seriously.

But we have too often assumed that the duty to uphold and defend the Constitution rests only with public servants and attorneys. Friends who are not lawyers often ask me how they can protect the Constitution. Too often, they’ve been told there’s not much they can do unless they go to law school.

I profoundly disagree. Yesterday, President Dallin H. Oaks spoke at the National Cathedral in Washington, D.C., about the relationship between becoming a peacemaker and upholding the Constitution.

His address got me thinking: What might a citizens’ oath to uphold the Constitution look like?

Inspired by President Oaks’ address, I believe it would center on becoming a peacemaker: someone who listens to and loves our fellow citizens (especially those most different from us), is willing to compromise to achieve mutually beneficial policy objectives, and upholds the Constitution’s principles. This is an oath we can all take, and one that our Constitution desperately needs.

An Oath to “We the People”

When we think of the Constitution, what images come to mind? Parchment? Pocket pamphlets? Perhaps the U.S. Capitol, the White House, or the Supreme Court, or the people who work in them? 

I urge us to think differently. Start with who you live with. Then think of your next-door neighbors. Then think of your broader community—the people among whom you work, shop, recreate, and worship. 

Instead of parchment, pamphlets, or policymakers, I want you to think of these people. The friends and enemies of your community. The people you love, the people you fear, the people you know nothing about.

Think of people because the Constitution belongs to “We the People,” the opening words of its preamble. It doesn’t just belong to the Supreme Court or the lawyers or the National Archives. Through its organizing principle of popular sovereignty, the Constitution belongs to all of us. We are the source of its power and legitimacy. But the “we” is collective. Not just you and your favorite political commentators or me and mine. 

The principle of popular sovereignty strengthens as we learn to become peacemakers. If we see the Constitution as belonging to all of our fellow citizens, we will realize that our protection of it cannot be only self-serving. We cannot, as President Oaks taught, “seek total dominance for all of our own positions.” Instead, he taught, “We should make every effort to understand the experiences and concerns of others, especially when they differ from our own.” 

If we are to have, as Lincoln said, “government of the people, by the people, for the people,” we have to believe this really means all of us. 

An Oath To Love and Need Each Other

Knowing that we cannot neglect our fellow citizens’ interests in our civic engagement, we have to face an even more demanding truth. Not only do our fellow citizens share the source of the Constitution’s power with us, but we need them in our civic life, and we need to love them.

President Oaks taught yesterday that “All of us should accept the reality that we are fellow citizens who need each other.” He later noted that “the Lord has taught me that it is possible to obey and seek to improve our nation’s laws, and also to love our adversaries.”

Loving our adversaries is part of the hard peacemaking work our Constitution needs.

Of course, many are cynical about that kind of project in our politically polarized nation. Hostile social media arguments and political violence make the risks feel high.

But the reality is that we really do need each other. As Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr., wrote from Birmingham Jail, “We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly affects all indirectly.” We cannot shun certain groups of our brothers and sisters and believe that we are serving our nation.

An Oath to Compromise

A peacemaking oath to support the Constitution isn’t limited to interpersonal peacemaking. It also includes—not uncontroversially—peacemaking in policy. 

Forged in compromise, the Constitution also requires compromise for the creation of laws. Its early proponents anticipated, not unwisely, that all kinds of “factions” would animate our governance, as James Madison wrote in The Federalist Papers. “The latent causes of faction are thus sown in the nature of man,” he wrote in No. 10. The Constitution’s remedy was structuring government as a democratic republic, where representatives would have to persuade one another and moderate their positions to create law. Or, as President Oaks put it, the Constitution “compels a divided people to build coalitions that allow them to act together for the common good.”

This ought to give us hope for our polarized times. Divisive differences were anticipated from the start. We just have to be willing to work them out. 

President Oaks has taught that “on contested issues, we should seek to moderate and unify.” These are words I couldn’t get out of my head as I interned in Washington, D.C., in the years after his talk. I encountered people on both the right and left who wished the Church would take a different path in its approach to religious liberty. Those on the left were frustrated that the Church’s reason for supporting compromise legislation was to protect religious liberty. Those on the right were frustrated that the Church would agree to compromises that seemed to go against its own teachings. One side wanted the Church to compromise its core commitment to protecting its doctrine; the other wanted the Church to remain unyielding in protecting it. 

But what President Oaks teaches is “a better way forward—a way to resolve differences without compromising core values.” This approach is what he has called “fairness for all.” “When there is genuine conflict on the effect of constitutional rights,” he taught, “contesting positions need to be balanced legally and negotiated politically in a way that upholds all essential rights to the greatest extent possible.” In other words, you may get your rights, but you also have to respect theirs.

This approach undergirds the 2015 Utah Compromise, the 2022 Respect for Marriage Act (RFMA), and the unpassed federal Fairness for All bill. Each of these measures committed to legislation the core value of religious liberty, which allows the Church to carry on in accordance with its doctrines. Yet each one also provides other protections—LGBT nondiscrimination in the Utah Compromise, and same-sex marriage recognition in the RFMA. These measures represent efforts to accomplish peacemaking in the policy context.

For many members of the Church, the Church’s support for these measures may have initially felt surprising or even hard to reconcile. (More on that here.) Some may have felt the compromise was far more significant than the moment required. But I learned during my time in Washington that the Church really means it when it says “moderate and unify.” As President Oaks taught, this requires “all of us to obey some laws we dislike and to live peacefully with some persons whose values differ from our own.”  

It may be that this call to be so willing to compromise is a prophetic call specific to our time. Perhaps it is. But it is a prophetic call nonetheless. 

The peacemaking approach of “fairness for all” is sometimes unpopular, even among members of the Church. In seeking to follow this call, I have had to moderate some of my own positions, even when my original position felt more philosophically consistent or morally pure. But if politics is the art of the possible, then we will almost certainly need to moderate our expectations for what constitutional policymaking can achieve. 

The thing nobody likes about peacemaking in a policy context is that the lines are hard to draw. How much of a principle can I forgo before I have compromised my own core beliefs? Are my beliefs compromised by allowing something I do not believe in? (The Church’s example has taught us: not necessarily.) What is truly essential to protect, and what is not?

These are challenging issues to resolve. If they’re causing us to think hard about them, discuss them with others, and question our own positions, this might be good evidence that we are doing the exact work we need to do. 

An Oath to Principles

Finally, any oath to the Constitution must include an oath to the Constitution’s principles. This is, admittedly, where lawyers often come in. When constitutional principles are violated, we expect litigation, if not law review articles, to alert us to what’s wrong.

The late U.S. Supreme Court Justice Antonin Scalia was known for pulling out another nation’s constitution at his law lectures. He would read its extensive Bill of Rights, which guaranteed freedom of speech, freedom of press, freedom of protests, and many other rights, far exceeding those of the United States. He then asked his audiences which country the constitution was from. 

He would shock them when he told them it was the 1977 Constitution of the Soviet Union—not exactly the poster country for constitutional liberty. He went on to say that “every tyrant” and “every banana republic” “in the world has a bill of rights.” “Unless the real constitution of a country prevents the centralization of power, all the rest is words on paper.”

Our Constitution’s structural division of power is a vital safeguard for our individual liberties. It is also a safeguard for the rule of law. 

If there is anything peacemakers should be inflexible on, it is the rule of law. We must expect government actors to follow the law, especially the supreme law of the land, the Constitution.

Our branches of government should check each other. But even these checks and balances are not foolproof. Those in power must also sometimes exercise self-restraint, hence the Latter-day Saint admonition that “honest men and wise men should be sought for diligently, and good men and wise men ye should observe to uphold; otherwise whatsoever is less than these cometh of evil.” 

An important way we can defend the division of power is by understanding what each branch is allowed to do, then voting with those limits in mind. We should carefully investigate candidates’ intended actions and whether they seek to undertake duties that are duly committed to another branch. Individuals who show a reckless disregard for rules or the law may carry those same tendencies into public office. 

When we see violations—prospective or committed—we should contact our members of Congress, who were intended to have the greatest power in the government, not the least, and urge them to act. We can write op-eds to raise awareness for our fellow citizens. We can support state leaders who refuse to surrender states’ rights to the federal government. And most importantly, we can encourage good and honorable people to run for office, and then vote for them. 

Will You Take the Oath?

So, on our Constitution’s birthday, will you take a citizens’ oath to defend it? You don’t have to memorize the preamble (though it’s inspiring) or own three copies of the Federalist Papers (though why not?) or read constitutional law cases (though I promise it’s super fun).

These are not the things that protect the Constitution. Instead, the Constitution is protected by sustained efforts to know, listen to, and love your neighbor. To focus on supporting legislation of compromises—fairness for all—that deters needless litigation and that actively promotes pluralism. To vote for candidates who do not merely articulate fondness for constitutional principles but who show that they are committed to them, even when those principles limit their own power or constrain their policy agenda.

These are the things anyone can do. And our nation needs you to do them. 

On this Constitution Day, I hope you will join me in taking a citizens’ oath to defend the Constitution by being a civic peacemaker. It is what our Constitution needs.

The post The Republic Relies on Restraint appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

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She was the first baby the stork brought.

Her delivery was induced by a phone call. Underweight but healthy, they told me. Two days old. Meth exposure. 

I frantically prepared the nest. I pulled out a box of clothes, most of which would be too big. I put a clean sheet on the cradle mattress. Then the case manager was at the door.

Our stork was a large woman with an aura of authority and, at that moment, annoyance. The directions I gave to our house had not been very good. The baby had become fussy during the long drive from the hospital. 

Baby had big brown eyes and wispy hair, perfect tiny fingers, and bitty feet shorter than my index finger. I already had four daughters, but she weighed several ounces less than the lightest of them at birth. She fussed with tight fists as I unfastened her from her car seat, her small body full of need.

It hurt to love her so instantly and completely. It was two weeks of midnights walking the hallway—shh, shh, shhhhh—and sloppy, sleepy 3 a.m. feedings before there was a scheduled visitation with her mother. I knew what we had signed up for. I knew I wasn’t her mother, not really. But Baby’s need eclipsed any resolve I’d had to hold some distance. I unapologetically fell. “Shouldn’t we love them recklessly?” I asked myself. What’s the alternative? An infant in a home where care is mechanical or half-hearted? I couldn’t sever just a piece of my heart to give her. It had to be all of it—beating like a hummingbird’s, maybe—but completely surrendered to loving her.

There is science to all of this, though I was just beginning to learn it as I lived it. Early attachments are fundamental for healthy brain development. We were created to crave connection. It’s a fundamental biological need. Dr. Bruce Perry, an expert on attachment theory, has written that “childhood experiences literally impact the biology of the brain.” Baby needed me and my family to be responsive, available, and nurturing. Nothing could be closed off. Nothing could be protected. A heart with no armor. Love on a tightrope, no net. 

I left feeling so conflicted. I wanted this young mom to be successful. I wanted the baby I already adored to stay with me. I didn’t know what was proper to want. I took my girls to the park to play while we waited out the visit. I snapped pictures while they climbed rock structures and dug in the sand. Time crawled. Finally, I rounded them up and returned to the library. Mom was holding her baby, and familiar adoration was palpable between them. For her, the time had passed too quickly. Another foster mom had advised me to ask for a photo at the first visit: I could keep it if the baby left our home or preserve it for the baby if her mother was no longer in her life. She told me you never know how rapidly things will change or how.

It’s the only picture we have of her mother. We never saw her again.

This wasn’t the end of the roller coaster ride. Although the rights of the biological mother were terminated quickly, establishing paternity took more time. More than 18 months passed before anything became clear. The case moved at the sluggish speed of the overtaxed courts. 

Those months were so vulnerable. Would she stay? Who would she go to if she left? There was potentially an interested grandmother. Shouldn’t she be with her family? After a year, though, weren’t we essentially her family? Dr. James Kenny, a psychologist with more than 50 years of clinical experience, has written that for foster children, bonding is possible after three months, probable after six months, and almost certain after a year. The stronger this bond becomes, the more damaging its severance is, causing potentially lasting harm. 

Had we reached the point where time spent with our family trumped real kinship? We knew she liked squash, but not green beans. We knew which diaper cream she had an allergy to. She held my index finger tight in her fists as she tottered around the room, and I cheered her first unassisted step.

Latter-day Saints have a powerful doctrine about the importance of families. Families are ordained of God and are central to His plan. In an ideal world where everyone chooses correctly, there would be no broken families. But we live in a fallen world where the chasm between the ideal and the real holds broken homes and shattered relationships. 

When we do this, we can’t expect the armor of God to keep us invulnerable to the pain we wade into. After all, what words describe the healing act of our Savior in Gethsemane and on the cross? “Which suffering caused myself, even God, the greatest of all, to tremble because of pain, and to bleed at every pore, and to suffer both body and spirit—and would that I might not drink the bitter cup, and shrink.”

If we are truly embarking on spreading the peace of Christ, we can anticipate that doing His work will require us to be exposed to at least a modicum of His agony. Being a foster parent was oftentimes agony. Beautiful, raw suffering. It taught me more about the deep complexity and power of God’s love for us and the lengths to which He will go to help us heal.

Those poignant first weeks as foster parents were merely an opening salvo for the wide range of pain and triumph, heartache and comfort that we would experience over the next 10 tumultuous years until we finally felt released from that calling, even as we were neck deep in the complexity of raising adopted children with post-traumatic stress disorder, disorganized attachments, and valuable, vulnerable hearts.

“Don’t fall in love,” the stork had cautioned. But isn’t that exactly what the Savior asks us to do? 

The post The Beautiful Agony of Foster Care appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

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“The Family: A Proclamation to the World” contains only one direct quote from scripture:  “Children are an heritage of the Lord.” 

The word “heritage” stands out as somewhat unusual in current usage. Some translations use “gift,” while others use “inheritance.” The children themselves are the gift. Although the opportunity and responsibility of parenthood can feel daunting, the understanding of children as gifts from the Lord emphasizes both their divine origin and the blessings of bearing and raising them. 

As I have written previously, our society often emphasizes the challenges of rearing children. I can hardly consider myself an exception, since I am the author of an article on the challenges of raising a child with special needs. However, even as I acknowledge the challenges of parenthood, I believe that faith in the Lord and His teachings about the family calls us to recognize its blessings. I hope that such a focus can help change the narrative about raising children, giving those considering parenthood a fuller understanding of its rewards and demands. 

Not every interaction with children is pleasant. At times, children disobey, demand a great deal just when parents have no energy, and make it clear, both visibly and vocally, that they have not yet mastered basic manners and etiquette. It seems that whenever I start an in-depth or important conversation with my wife, at least two other voices immediately begin begging for our attention. These instances are trying, but they also provide important teaching opportunities. Finding the most effective way to teach my children is a rewarding challenge, like finishing an elaborate puzzle, but more satisfying. 

I recently read Psalm 127 to my sons, and I was struck by the final verses: “As arrows are in the hand of a mighty man; so are children of the youth. Happy is the man that hath his quiver full of them: they shall not be ashamed, but they shall speak with the enemies in the gate.” The language here is figurative. The image of arrows speaking with enemies could mean driving enemies away by force or threat—or, as my son said, “Speaking with them in ways they understand.” But I also see the enemies at the gate as more than rivals or thieves: they can represent the struggles of mortality. They include the perceived meaninglessness of life and frailty of human efforts that lead the writer of Ecclesiastes to remark that “all is vanity.” Children help us defeat these enemies because they are an eternal legacy. Our work with them extends beyond our lifetimes into the lives of our children and their descendants, and into eternity. The gospel gives us the promise of an eternal family, meaning that when we treasure our children, we are choosing “treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal” (Matthew 6:20). 

Another indirect blessing of raising children is an increased ability to prioritize. This clearer sense of priorities stems partly from the fact that raising children requires significant time. There simply isn’t as much time for other things. Although having less free time can be inconvenient, it also brings the compensatory blessing of a change in perspective that makes minutes and hours more valuable. 

Furthermore, raising children has led me to reflect on what is most meaningful. These reflections have given me the clarity I need to live deliberately. The changes I have made have been so meaningful that I ended a poem about my oldest son’s birth with the line “I have to wonder who gave life to whom.” At the same conference, I heard similar comments about prioritizing from my colleagues with children. They said that raising children has helped them eliminate less important things that previously used up their time. They expressed gratitude for the increased focus that comes with parenthood. 

One of the most important lessons I have learned from raising children is how much my spiritual growth depends on relationships. The growth, attributes, and strength that I seek spiritually do not come solely through personal effort or even solitary communion with God. It is in growing together that we follow the Savior. When challenges have pushed me to my limits, I have often found sustaining strength in family members. And increasingly, I find it in my children. Sometimes simply knowing that they trust in and depend on me is enough to sustain me. At other times, their pure faith and willingness to learn inspire me. 

The blessings of parenthood deserve more airtime. For me, paying attention to those blessings is not merely a matter of optimism but of faith in God, whose children we are raising. When we speak honestly about what raising children has given us, we offer those considering parenthood a fuller picture of the life they might choose. These blessings deserve a place in our public conversation as well as our private gratitude. 

The post What Children Give Us appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

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Before he bravely gave his life helping people escape the World Trade Center, Welles Crowther helped his father clean the fire truck. 

Welles’ mother remembered him going to the station on weekends with his father. Welles was small enough that he could get to parts of the truck that the adults could not. 

So he would come help shine up the truck for parades. The adults gave him meaningful work. And as a teenager, he trained to fight fires. 

Welles chose a career in equities trading. But on September 11, 2001, when the South Tower of the World Trade Center, where he worked, was hit, he got to work. He led strangers out of the building and helped the injured down the stairs. He carried one injured woman down several flights of stairs, then ran back upstairs to help others. 

He died when the tower collapsed on top of him. 

Those he helped rescue remembered that he carried a red bandanna, a habit he learned from his father.

Today marks the 25th anniversary of Welles Crowther’s sacrifice, and the sacrifices of hundreds of other heroes like him. His courage still moves me. But perhaps just as important as the hero he would become was that little boy at the firehouse.

A Person of Character

We usually discover heroes at the crucial moment of their heroic action. The danger arrives, they act, and we marvel. 

Who raised these kids, and how did they do it?

Talat Hamdani remembered her son Salman Hamdani as a 12-year-old. He brought sick pigeons home to nurse them back to health. As he grew older, that instinct turned into capability. He was trained as a New York City Police Department cadet, then decided to try to attend medical school. He began work as an EMT while he studied. Salman developed a habit of following up with the patients he brought to the hospital. 

On September 11, he was likely traveling to work on the elevated No. 7 train when he saw the burning towers. He never reported to work that day. Because he was a Pakistani Muslim, suspicions began to grow after he disappeared that morning. But those who knew him never wondered. Officials identified Salman’s body months later. He had gone to the North Tower, and he was found clutching his medical bag. 

A Child Who Has Something to Contribute

There is something important about children being given useful jobs among adults. The children can admire the work of the adults. They can discover that their contributions matter, that other people depend on them, and that becoming more capable will allow them to do more good. 

Each of these seemingly ordinary moments gives children an opportunity to care for others. 

But as parents, we can accidentally ignore or undermine those opportunities.

It is often faster to just do the job ourselves. Teaching a child how to do the dishes is, in my experience, more difficult than doing the dishes by several orders of magnitude. 

We may prioritize our children’s individual pursuits to a degree that leaves little room for the people and communities that need them. We may not ask a teenager to help us cook dinner for a neighbor recovering from surgery when doing so would upend the entire schedule. 

Or we may reach for rewards, giving children an answer to “What’s in it for me?” before they even ask, in turn denying children the opportunity simply to serve those around them. In a small experiment with 20-month-olds, children given material rewards for helping subsequently helped less when rewards stopped than did children who had received praise or no reward. Our incentives can sometimes interfere with a willingness already present. 

Heroism and Personal Fulfillment

So, with this in mind, how can we create a family and a culture (or perhaps even a society) that produces self-sacrificing heroes in an environment seemingly obsessed with personal fulfillment at the expense of everything else?

Even when we explain the reasons for sacrifice and service, we can keep the attention on the self. Volunteering can strengthen a college application. Generosity makes us feel better. Church will provide a good social environment. God will reward sacrifice with greater blessings.

Instead, we can cultivate the belief that another person’s need is itself a sufficient reason to act. We can explain to them why the tasks we give them matter, and they can watch us work alongside them. They can observe us keep our commitments when it is no longer in our own narrow self-interest.

Religious life is a particularly rich arena for children to learn this lesson. King Benjamin teaches that parents should teach children “to love one another, and to serve one another.” A congregation gives them people to practice with, including those who are inconvenient. It provides them with a community and obligations they can show up for. And it provides a structure for putting these lessons into practice.

We should expect our service to bring us joy. We should believe that God will bless us for our sacrifice. And we should learn to act for others without making those benefits the reason we act. “What do I get out of it?” cannot be the organizing question of a life that we hope could lead to the kind of heroism displayed by Welles and Salman. 

Ordinary Courage

Children need adults in their lives who model useful service that they can admire. Adults who have learned skills and use them to fulfill their responsibilities and to serve others. Welles had firefighting experience. Salman had medical training. They both had compassion, cultivated by thoughtful, purposeful, and loving parents, that caused them to put those skills to work.

Every single parent reading this article wishes that those two young men had come home that day. And thankfully, most of the service and sacrifice our children and we perform will go quietly, leave no public record, and end with us back with our families. 

On this anniversary, we can tell the stories of those who didn’t. Then we can turn to our own children and invite them into the work waiting around us, so that they can grow into the same kinds of people. 

Long before anyone knew that Welles Crowther was a hero, a boy went with his father to the firehouse, and the men there found a job for him to do. 

The post How Heroes Are Raised appeared first on Public Square Magazine.