Hello! I'm a Conservative Christian. Let Me Tell You What I Really Believe.

So, I'm getting a little tired of having various internet memes tell me what I believe and how I live my life. Mostly because they tend to be wrong. Occasionally, when I run across one with a particularly amusing punchline, I read it and snort before getting on with my life. Unfortunately, most of the memes describing “my lifestyle” that I encounter are just offensive to me. The other day I saw a meme with a caption saying something to the effect of “I'm a Conservative Christian and I believe in the sanctity of marriage. So do four out of my five previous husbands.” I didn't laugh when I read this one. Instead, I got a bit upset and cried some angry tears because I feel like I am being misrepresented on the internet—along with many others who share my similar values. You may say, “Well, yeah, but that's because you're part of the group. If you were on the opposing side of the fence, you would find it funny like the rest of us.

Would I?

The whole point of me telling you this is to tell you that I, as someone who identifies as a “conservative Christian,” am an individual. A real person. And at the risk of sounding too much like an episode of Sesame Street, it makes me sad when people aren't nice to me. Actually, it makes me sad when people aren't nice—whether I'm the victim or not. So, don't give me this crap about “The tables being turned,” and “How do I like it?” because although I have my beliefs, I DON'T HATE GAY PEOPLE. I don't post memes ridiculing people who are different from me, and I don't sit around in my spare time thinking of all the reasons I think they are going to Hell. In fact, I don't even believe in Hell in thetraditional sense, and the person I most frequently condemn is myself. I don't enjoy it when anybody is mocked and ridiculed, whether they believe as I do or not!

Yes, I'm a Christian. A member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints—you may more readily recognize the term Mormon. I also happen to lean to the right politically. I do value the sanctity of marriage. I understand there are many who oppose my viewpoint. If you are one of them, that's okay. I think you're wrong. But I also know that you think that I'm wrong. The issue I'm concerned with here is not who is right and who is wrong (because I think we'll find that at the end of the day, we each believe the other is wrong, no matter what is said). My concern here is that yes, we disagree. Now what?

I suppose we could continue to create and share fallacious memes that illustrate why the opposite view is stupid in addition to being wrong, but I'm personally getting tired of the same old arguments. Yes, sometimes heterosexual marriages end in divorce. I think this is unfortunate. But (forgive me, you'll have to step inside my religiously extremist mind here—try not to judge too harshly!) I don't believe two wrongs make a right. Divorce, like marriage, is a choice. And while some people may be making the choice of “serial monogamy,” I am not one of them. When I say that marriage is something that I hold sacred, this means that in addition to viewing marriage as between a man and a woman, I was particularly careful while searching for my own spouse. My grandma used to tell me that most girls are more selective of their prom dresses than their husbands. I was not about to be one of those girls. Because I view marriage as special, it's not a relationship I was willing to enter into with just anybody. I kept looking until I finally found someone I believed was worthy to be called my husband. Now that we have found each other, we are doing all we can to ensure that our marriage lasts. So please, don't lump me into a group that believes that divorce is a natural result of marriage. I'm putting a lot of work into this relationship called marriage, and I find it hurtful when others cavalierly come along and tell me I'm going to fail when they don't even know my husband and me.

But lets talk about something that many of those on “my side” have been guilty of. Like the idea that heterosexual people have a monopoly on the pursuit of happiness—particularly where relationships and family are concerned. “Gay people shouldn't get married or adopt because they can't have kids naturally.” You've probably heard that one at least a few times. I don't like it because I don't think that inability to reproduce “naturally” is something to rub anyone's nose in. You probably find the “gay people shouldn't have kids because they aren't good parents” line of reasoning to be as repulsive and distasteful as I find the “religious right-wingers are all hateful people who deserve their multiple divorces” logic—because it's a sweeping generalization that's wrong. Those people I know who identify as homosexual would make great parents if the opportunity came their way. It would seem to me, that the pain that comes to those individuals who are unable to marry or have a family for reasons related to sexual orientation is just as real as that of any single person who is unable to realize their need for intimacy or any couple longing for a child. We should stop mocking the sadness associated with these circumstances—regardless of the sexual orientation of those involved.

The debate over whether or not homosexuals should be able to marry is a sensitive one with very personal ramifications for both sides. It is a discussion that should be had civilly—which civility is typically lacking in internet memes. By all means, post factual sources that support your cause. Electronically share your beliefs—I will be. Just please, as you do your best to tell others how you feel about controversial issues, leave the memes out of it. This is a delicate subject with actual people on both sides, and we can't be fully represented by such sweeping generalizations.

Being around babies (and other myths about preparing for parenthood)

Something happened the other day that upset me. Really got me riled. So I'm endeavoring to right all wrongs with this entry.

Pfft. Actually, I'm just going to rant about it.

In recently discussing the birth of my daughter, someone asked me how my husband, Alex, has been with Melody. I answered quite truthfully that he has been wonderful with her. So sweet. Never a better dad, in my opinion. They responded with “Oh, that's great. I was just wondering because really, he hasn't spent a whole lot of time around babies, has he?”

Then somebody else chimed in helpfully: “Oh, no. So-and-so was more prepared to be a dad than Alex; he dated someone who had a baby.”

My issue here is not that I'm upset by the Alex/So-and-so comparison, but that my husband's parental readiness was called into question because he was being evaluated solely on the amount of time spent with children. I can't help but wonder how that works. Perhaps there's some sort of “Child-o-Meter” that tallies time with kids and exceeding a certain score somehow indicates level of preparedness? If so, do you get points for sitting next to kids in church and glaring at them in the supermarket when they scream? Are there triple rewards if a kid pukes on you? And really, what is this number? Have I passed it yet?

This must have been a most unfortunate system for Adam and Eve.

I'm used to being on the flip side: “As the oldest of such a big family, you'll be all set to have your own. You'll be a wonderful mom.” I appreciate that, I really do, but I still don't believe it—especially after having a baby. Preparation for good parenthood is not bestowed with the title of “oldest child” any more than it is given due to age, annual income, or number of times you've looked at a baby and thought that he or she looked cute. None of these things is necessarily indicative of how well you will hold up when you're tired and hungry, but you have to feed your baby first because she's hungry and screaming. None of these is guaranteed to show that you'll be willing to stick around when your wife's hormones are messed up, dinner's not ready, and the baby needs a diaper change. There are certain situations you can't be ready for, but emotional maturity and selflessness will go a long way to helping you to get up your courage and push through anyway. Those things are instilled not by time spent with children, but with effort and attention to improvement. Children may be an integral part of character development, or not. There are many ways to prepare for parenthood.

Alex is one of the sweetest, most kind-hearted people I know. His love, patience, and selflessness humble me. I have to try (yes, maybe this happens at our house occasionally . . . ) to get him to yell at me—and even then he is always the first to forgive. Sometimes he admits he's wrong when he's actually right, just to appease me. I knew he hadn't been around kids much when I married him, but I still picked him to be my husband because after seeing the way that he treated me, my family, and complete strangers, I knew that he had already been prepping to be a father. I may be the oldest of twelve children and I've changed many more diapers, but Alex outstrips my readiness for parenthood in the most significant ways.

So please, say what you may about other people, but my husband was ready for parenthood. And he's doing a bang-up job at it now, thanks.

Hyperbole (and other perfectly acceptable ways to lie)

This is more for me than for anyone else. It's not a family blog where you will be inundated with pictures of what we have been up to. My [very large] family happens to be a very large part of my life, so they will naturally show up a lot. But this is just a way to keep myself writing and feeling like I have an audience.

I will warn you: I intend to write daily. As in, every day. It would be very misleading of me to pretend that this will be the best thing you read each day. Much of what you read will be first drafts. There will be some rough posts and--hopefully some better ones. Unlike most of the internet, I'm not going to tell you that this is the FUNNIEST blog you'll EVER read. My tagline will not be ''This girl got married and had a baby. What happened next will ASTOUND you!'' The internet has been crying wolf so long that we honestly don't care whether the wolf is real or how many sheep are being eaten. Wolves are an everyday occurrence.

I'm not a wolf, and I'm not a sheep. I'm an average person with an average blog. I honestly don't expect you to read every entry just because it's here.

. . . But if you come back tomorrow, I'll tell you about the event that single-handedly changed my perspective FOREVER. ;)