Perpetually Eight Years Old

I attended the General Woman's Meeting on March 30 with my mother and sister, Mary, at one of our meetinghouses. The opening prayer by the young girl was most powerful segment of the entire meeting for me where I really felt the spirit. I spent the rest of the broadcast waiting for a shout-out to single, never married sisters. Sister Oscarson came closest. Anyone notice the single sister in the video sitting alone in her sacrament meeting pew whom the married woman with hubby and kids took pity on and included? Cut to the happy young woman in her temple wedding dress surrounded by her family. Nuff said. I was grateful President Henry B. Eyring stopped his narrative of a women's journey through life and the covenants she can plan to make and keep at baptism. When you stop to think about it, the years between eight years old, the traditional age a child in the church is baptized, and the next step, marriage, which usually includes the first time induction into the temple and all those covenants, can be anywhere from ten to twenty years. That 's a lot of sacrament meetings to endure alone while waiting for a  husband and children to come along.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qj-Ivgbjlms

Sometimes I feel like us never married singles in the church are treated as if we are, perpetually, eight years old. Forever treated like an adolescent because we failed to be sexually awakened by a man we ultimately failed to attract. It's our own fault.

No, my fellow single sisters. This is simply not true. It is NOT our fault. If I might be so bold as to interpret 2 Timothy 3:2 For men shall be lovers of their own selves...We are living in the last days and this is the kind of world we are stuck in. A world awash in wickedness where old fashioned dating and courtship, initiated by a man has been tossed out and deemed unnecessary. Cohabitation is replacing marriage. Those of us with higher standards, correctly taught to wait until the proper time to engage in sexual intercourse with the right partner, are never acknowledged for our patience, long suffering and sacrifice. Men truly love themselves more than the women God once expected them to honor, care and provide for be they sisters in their own family or the woman they got down on one knee for. When men would rather kiss each other instead of us, that's when we'll know the world is in big trouble.

I'm not male bashing. I know there are many fine upstanding men out there doing their best to be good brothers and husbands. I know the brethren who lead the church are doing the best they can with the few but strong priesthood holding men they have to work with. Nevertheless, women are beginning to voice their displeasure at having to stand alone. Some feel they might as well be given the priesthood for all the help they're getting from those slackers they call husbands.

Meanwhile, I'm struggling to get over my current crush. It's really more an infatuation. The relief that graduation is just two weeks away brings both pain and gut-wrenching heartache for I had such high hopes that maybe this final semester would offer an opportunity to obtain an MRS degree as well as a second baccalaureate. I even took an Institute class this semester which was very uplifting and inspiring but no one ever asked me for my phone number. As a result, this developing crush was focused on one of my professors. My first at the University of Utah but not in my academic life. When I attended that little university in Cedar City over a decade ago, I developed a schoolgirl crush on one of my male teachers. Just a little reminder from my shriveled up heart that I am and will always be a heterosexual woman, forever on the lookout for a good, kind, gentle man who would be a good provider and make me laugh frequently. It's true, the good ones are always already taken.

  Had a happy Easter anyway. My primary calling means I can continue to fly below the radar, do my duty and serve in the church like our leaders tell us single sisters to do. I'll try and content myself with whatever blessings partaking of the sacrament brings me. Being perpetually eight years old means my responsibilities and stewardship in this life are limited to just a few nephews and family members. I don't expect any career opportunities to come to pass as a result of earning a degree in English and will probably have to take a second menial labor minimum wage job that will require me to work Sundays but if that be the will of God so be it and if anyone needs me I'll be in the park picking marigolds and enjoying another ride on the swing. Calvin is stronger than he looks.