It’s been a year of study and contemplation. A year in which the priesthood has been more at the forefront of my mind, whereas it had previously been something I just didn’t bring myself to think about, ignored on the proverbial shelf, as something too difficult. A year when a discussion in Relief Society about women giving healing blessings historically, resulted in our priesthood leaders attending the following week to make sure we understood this was not something permitted us. The following represents my feelings of events in my life over the past year. My children are well over the age for naming and baptism, which is why these milestones don’t feature. Mainly, I am pained by the way priesthood divides our families.

Hands are Tied

When my husband is sick

I can supply medication, soothing drinks, allow him to rest in a darkened room, pray, and I do.

My soul yearns to reach out and bless him.

But my hands are tied.

When my husband is stressed

I can listen, say soothing words, offer perspective and advice, pray, and I do.

My soul yearns to reach out and bless him.

But my hands are tied.

When our children are sick

We can supply medication, soothing drinks, allow them to rest in a darkened room, pray, and we do.

My soul yearns to join him to bless them.

But my hands are tied.

When our children are stressed

We can listen, say soothing words, offer perspective and advice, pray, and we do.

My soul yearns to join him to bless them.

But my hands are tied.

When my son is ordained

My mother, my daughter and I sit silent observing, my husband ordains, my father my proxy.

Still my soul yearns to join them to bless him.

But my hands are tied.

Then my father unwell

Wives and daughters sit silent, his sons surround him, my husband anoints, my husband my proxy.

Still my soul yearns to join them, for my mother to bless him.

But our hands are tied.

 

How do you feel about these things?