The Lakota

Usually by Wednesdays and Thursdays I find myself in tears. It's the third or fourth day in a row, depending on the schedule for the week, that I have been without my children and without family. Mondays in the morning my children go to their daddy's house for either three or four days while I spend a few days solely focused on school and working to support our family. As a single mother.

So the tears wash over me. The feelings of loneliness intense, and the prayer for motivation and the will to keep moving, my song. Part of the tears are due to the time I have to reflect on the absence of close family ties. This isn't my native state, nor my familiar way of living, and it feels terrifying and unknown. It isn't comfortable. I have never been here, and I have very few around me who have walked the path before me. Realizing this always leaves me feeling overcome and small. I'm just so grateful for my faith in God and for his hand in shaping my life.

Today, though the tears are laced with many of these same themes, I find myself crying for different reasons as well. I have been reading Joe Starita's work called "The Dull Knifes of Pine Ridge" for my history class which follows five generations of Native American Sioux's who better identify themselves as Lakota. Within the pages of this work, we see the history of the Lakota tribe expressed through their lens regarding the time period of the "Indian Problem" in America. I connect with many of their yearnings and pains, although my experiences are muted by the scale of their experiences.

I think what I find so astounding as I read through these pages is how much I understand the sadness and fear these people experienced. The story is a story of humans, not "Indians", and their depression and oppression very real and profound. I feel it in my heart, and I understand their perspective. They were an unselfish, and basically peaceful people, who lived a "primitive" way of life. And for it, they were misunderstood and marginalized. Fear and hysteria motivated most of the actions surrounding the force used against a suffering nation of people with different and unusual ways.

 But, their real story is one of family, love, brotherhood, gentility, and respect. Their ties to family and the land they lived off of were strong, and they were slow to react and quick to see and understand the meaning of events around them. As I read their stories and their words, my heart weeps for their gentleness and kindness. My heart aches for their losses and for the way they were treated and discriminated against by our young government. A government with motivations very different from their own.

The book carefully lays out and contrasts the ways of the government from the ways of the Lakota, and I can't help but be struck by the misunderstandings, propaganda, and injustice of the time against these people. The movement was very similar to, and in many ways, a reflection of, the same themes that led to abuse and oppression of African Americans. Much was equally unprovoked, and equally unjust.

Inside of this framework, the threads of the Lakota narrative weaves a tapestry of a people genuine and kind, self-sufficient based upon nomadic ways of living, and encouraging to the human spirit. As I read their narratives, and attend to the words they use and their descriptions of what they experienced before and after the white settler, it is so hard to overlook their values of peace, gratitude, faith, and work. Family was a rich heritage, and they had unwritten rules based around respect of how to treat other peoples and tribes. They respected the human experience, and they also respected the heritage and experience of each creature.

 What's so interesting and surprising to me is the misconceptions I have held of Native Americans. I was taught that they were a fierce and barbaric people, scalping enemies and constantly at war with one another over silly squabbles. Nighttime raids and selfish and wild behavior the definition of their ways. But, much of this was a projection of our fears: Our hysteria and crave to expand across the US- for wealth and gold, and land to conquer- colored our ideas about these foreign and different cultures. Cultures in which the "warrior" was honored and praised as a protector of the people and families, and their culture.

It's impossible to know exactly how things unfolded in retrospect, and whether other natives unfairly massacred and attacked families heading west unprovoked. But, I have read enough from both the US Government resources and the narratives of the Lakota regarding their interactions in this time period to realize that sometimes in our struggle for power, we can be brutal and selfish, and then rationalize away our behaviors in Christian ideals, which were not the driving forces behind our actions. I weep for the pain and devastation these people experienced at the hands of our ancestors, and I take it as a warning.

I keep coming back to the principles I am learning in psychology and therapy. Often, it is easy for nations with many comforts and advances to begin to digress from things of most value and most likely to produce happiness to things of lesser value but which elevates pride and individuality. I don't mean to suggest being an individual is incorrect or "bad", but emphasis on the individual does have some inherent weaknesses that might be wise to acknowledge. I guess there is a lot to be said about the ills of consumerism and the focus on "I", but I don't really want to take up that charge today.

Honestly, what stands out to me today is how losing heritage and culture for the Lakota, and many other native nations, drove them to give up and led to depression and alcoholism, which were forces introduced by the white nation. Everything of value to the Lakota's had been stripped away and the government tried to make them more "white", or WASP, which was "white-anglo-saxon-protestants", by sending them to militant schools which taught them to be more "civilized" and give up their traditions. This was only accepted under the premise of fierce government oppression and brutal and unprovoked force which sent the statement that there was no other option for these native nations. Which led to hopelessness, and idleness, and alcoholism and abuse.

It's fascinating to me to read their words and their values from the LDS lens that I use to see the world because I see how their culture actually values many of the same ideals that drive my faith. Families and honor and working with their own hands, patience and peace, honesty and rich history, and faith. "Heathanistic" emphasis on "we" rather than "I" like the American civilized society. I think we often wonder about the atrocities surrounding Hitler and Stalin, but we forget about our own historical atrocities regarding African Americans, Orients, and African Americans. The threads are the same, and the outcomes equally as devastating.

What's my point? That's a great question. I think history is worth minding because we can learn many great lessons about what works for society and what leads to atrocity. Greed and egocentrism don't tend to take humanity very far in the right direction, and tend to leave a wake of pain and devastation. I think these atrocities remind us of the value of cultivating the gentler impulses and values of humans. I think it's worth reminding that civilizations tend to fail with too much focus on wealth and the individual because it isn't long before anything goes for us to reach those goals. There is so much more to be said and extrapolated from this theme, but I will leave that to much more educated and eloquent minds than my own.

Thanks for going on this journey with me. I hope to remember the lessons I have learned from the Dull Knifes of the Lakota Tribe.

Grace

Sometimes I find in my scripture study a gentle rebuke from the Lord, but at the same time renewed hope for the future. This morning was one of those studies. And honestly, I think I did need it. I am having a really hard time keeping up on my studies, and I really just want to be able to be the A student that I was before. I was pretty whiny in my prayer this morning with Heavenly Father, and this was his response:

4 That they should let no pride nor haughtiness disturb their peace; that every man should esteem his neighbor as himself, laboring with their own hands for their support.

5 Yea, and all their priests and teachers should labor with their own hands for their support, in all cases save it were in sickness, or in much want; and doing these things, they did abound in the grace of God.

I really love that I can turn to the Lord in prayer and receive direct answers from his words. I didn't realize I was being prideful, but that's exactly what was happening inside of me. Rather than asking to understand the plan that he had in store for me, I was feeling like a victim and wanting to decide my own path. I wasn't trusting the Lord's way.

I really love the focus on grace: "and in doing these things, they did abound in the grace of God." I've come to realize that grace is the only real way to be saved by the Lord, and my greatest hope is to believe in grace and allow it to shape the person I become. Now I realize that the formula is much simpler than I thought (and maybe wanted it to be).

I am reminded, again, that the Lord is not asking me for high marks, or perfect house keeping. He is asking me to walk the path ahead of me, one day at a time, one prayer at a time, and one spirit-filled moment at a time. He is asking me to work, to be humble, and to walk the path he gave me by faith.

I guess I was forgetting that it is such a blessing to be where I am, and that the Lord has beautiful things he wants me to do. Which is true for all of his children. He has a beautiful life and path for each of us. Grace is the way to my greatest successes and joys in life. In fact, it is the only way by which to achieve the best of my abilities. If I do nothing else in this life, I hope to be doing what it takes to have the power of God active in my life.

Believing in Good Enough

Sometimes I feel defeated (read: since I've been back in school), and I have to remind myself that the fact that I am still moving is good and enough. The fact that I am hoping to believe is good enough. I have high expectations of myself, and it's hard to accept that I can be imperfect but still working to achieve excellence at the same time. I can't always make it to class, or take midterms on time or fully prepared. Not all of my assignments will be turned in on time (some.. many.. won't be turned in at all). And I wonder, "where is the line between excuses and doing my best?" So often, I feel alone and insecure. Here's what I've realized this morning: 
When I take God literally and allow him to heal the way that I see myself and others, then I realize God isn't asking me for perfection and superhuman ability- he's asking me for faith.

He is asking me to believe him. He is asking me to remember who I am and to have faith in what I can accomplish by his power, and what he has promised me is mine. He's reminding me that there is no limit to what I can be and do other than my own fears and expectations.

He is asking me to love myself and to see myself with the same tenderness and love that he sees me. He is asking me to see my talents and my person the way that he does.

He knows I will be imperfect and that I will not be my best especially at the beginning of this journey.

He knows that I don't have all of the information and habits right now.

He knows that sometimes I choose to eat a chocolate muffin and take a long bath instead of working on an assignment, going to class, and doing my laundry. 

He knows I am overwhelmed and faithless, and scared, and need to remember to BREATHE.

He knows how small I feel and how overwhelming the tasks before me seem.

He knows I feel alone.

He also knows that I can't do what he is asking of me alone.

And that's what he is trying to remind me. He never asked me to walk this path alone; he asked me to walk this path with faith and with hope. The kind of hope that brings brightness into my vision and which elevates my vision. He just wants me to see the light, and have faith in its power. And then he wants me to learn to ask for that power to change me. 
I think this is always the root of my struggle. When I remember who I am and the power that is available to me, I feel secure and safe. I've seen his miracles and I know his power is real. And I achieve amazing things that I can't take credit for, and that's the plan. It's so beautiful.

It's when I forget to reach and recall that I begin to sink. I think of Peter's experience with these principles. "He defied science by walking on water toward the savior, and then lost faith and that's when he sank into the water" said one general authority, and I'm paraphrasing. 
That's exactly the pattern I see in my life. Sometimes it is simultaneous as the miracles occur that I begin to falter.

I know I can't keep it up or do anything greater. I know my own weaknesses, and I, because of my focus on them, I want to give up hope and I lose the power. But the miracle is evidence of God's power and love, so how does this happen? Even as the savior is blessing and buoying me up, and showing me what he can make me, I forget to give him the credit and to believe in his power.

What I realize today is that I just need to recognize and feel gratitude for God's mercy and the savior's atonement and allow them to magnify my vision of myself in God's plan. I need to trust God and believe in Christ. My prayer is to learn to believe more fully in order to have greater access to God's power in my life.