Holy Women

I read something in a book by Wendy Watson Nelson, titled What Would A Holy Woman Do? that intrigued me. She invited six of her friends to chose an activity, something they already did, just one activity a day for three days, and ask themselves the question, "How would a holy woman do this?” or, “What would a holy woman do?"

Their responses were fascinating, and made me want to try the same experiment, and to share the idea with my daughters and facebook friends.

“Want to try an experiment with me?” I wrote to them. “Just pick one activity you are already going to do today, and keep the thought, "How would a holy woman do this?" in your mind as you do whatever it is. Then let me know what happens.”

I thought about being holy a lot that day, but couldn't really see how to change most of the stuff I did. After all, how do you clean up a compost pit or burn branches holily? But I did change one simple activity in the morning. Instead of just hurrying outside to start working in the yard, I looked around the kitchen and thought about how a holy woman would keep her house. After all, if I used the Temple as a model for my home, like a holy woman would, I would take extra care to keep my house clean. Not that it was dirty. Since there was only Krissi and me at home, (Moe was hunting) things stayed pretty nice. There were just a couple of dishes in the sink, but instead of leaving them for later I rinsed them off and put them in the dishwasher. Then I noticed the crumbs on the stove, again not dirty, just not really clean, so I wiped it off. The sun was shining through the front windows, illuminating little specks of dirt and crumbs on the floor, so I grabbed the broom and swept. All of that took less than five minutes, but you know what? It made me feel good to walk out the back door knowing my kitchen was REALLY clean.


That evening I got an email from my daughter, Holly, who has a new, three-week-old baby. She said, “I thought about being a holy woman today, mom, while I nursed Griffin.” It made me happy to know someone had taken up the challenge with me.

The second day was again, pretty ordinary for me. Still, it was better than it could have been because I was thinking about trying to be a holy woman. Don't get me wrong, I'm wasn't trying to be perfect all day long. If I had tried that I would have been frustrated most of the time, and that's not how I imagine a holy woman feeling. I just tried to pick one little area to work on, which on that day was trying to act like a holy woman when Moe came home from hunting.

I was out front, working on laying brick for a flower bed when he came home. I was sitting on the lawn, (a hard thing to do for a 57 year old grandma, but easier than kneeling on my knees all day) with my hands covered with mortar when Moe drove in. Under other circumstances I would have looked up, waved, and called out a hello. But since I'd thought about this moment in advance, I got up off the ground and walked over to the truck as he slowed down in the driveway. I started to walk up to the passenger window, since that was closest to me, but decided a holy woman would give her husband a welcome home kiss, so I walked around the back of the pickup and went to Moe's window to welcome him home. It wasn't a hard thing to do, but it was different from what I would have done if I hadn't thought about it before.

Later, as Moe recounted his hunt, I tried to listen like a holy woman would. I was doing a pretty good job until he told me, "Thanks, Gale. You have made this the best hunting season ever." Now, you might think that would make me feel good, but I'm ashamed to admit it didn't. That was the second or third time he'd said it that season, and it had begun to make me cranky. After all, what was he really saying? That because I hadn't complained about him going hunting he'd had a great time? So, that meant that all the previous years I'd been a nag and made his life miserable? I started to point out to him that I hadn't complain last year, or the year before, either, but he stopped me and said, "I just mean this has been a great hunt, and you've made it that way."

To tell you the truth, I still wanted to tell him that it wasn't my fault if he hadn't had a good time in the past, but a little voice in my head whispered, "A holy woman would let it go and not get offended," so I shut my mouth. Moe kept on talking, and slowly I realized that what he was really saying was that he was having a fun time looking for elk this year, and that he appreciated me making sacrifices so he could go. He wasn't alluding to the past at all.

I'm glad I was trying to listen like a holy woman. If not, I'd have ended up cross and cranky and offended over something that my husband didn't really even mean. Hopefully, I learned a lesson I'll be able to remember in the future.

That afternoon I got a message from a young woman I once knew. She wrote:

“I thought of this when I was outside playing with the other moms and their babies in my ward. I thought that a holy woman would enjoy those little happy moments and share a smile with the people she is around. Thanks for the challenge yesterday. Hopefully I will remember again and do better today. :)”

Maybe my experiment was making a difference for other people, too.

The third day I decided to try studying my scriptures like a holy woman would. I always try to read scriptures for half an hour every day, but sometimes it's hard to focus, and I feel like I'm just going through the motions. On this day I started out like always, wondering what I should read, when the thought came, “Why not study the Sunday School lessons you are missing?” A few months ago I began teaching a Sunday School class for a young man who has severe autism. It's just Victor and me in our class, and I have enjoyed getting to know him and trying to prepare simple lessons that he can understand, but I no longer get to attend the adult Sunday School class. But just because I wasn't in class didn't mean I shouldn't still be studying the lessons, right? So I found the adult Sunday School lesson schedule and used it to guide my scripture study. What a difference it made to have something specific to study. I think a holy woman would study her scriptures with purpose, not just randomly.

I received a message from an old friend later that day. She said,

“I have loved reading your posts! You always inspire me. Well tonight I finally did something as a holy woman. I got home around 8:00 and dishes were piled high in the sink (as they always are :)) With a heavy sigh, I turned on the faucet and started washing the dishes with a frown on my face and negative thoughts swarming in my head UNTIL I thought of you and asked myself, "What would a holy woman do?" The answer came to sing hymns and so I did. I sang hymns and not just in my head but at the top of my lungs with all of my heart (regardless of who heard me) and it made my frown turn into a smile. Thank you for making a dreaded ritual a happy moment. :)

After my three day experiment ended, I reflected on how I wanted to continue trying to be a holy woman, afraid that I would eventually forget as life went on. What could I do to remind myself? Then a light went on inside my brain. That's what taking the Sacrament on Sunday is for! Every week I get to reflect on my actions, review in my mind what I have done, and haven't done, repent, and then recommit myself to being a true disciple of Christ, a holy woman.

In her book about being holy women, Wendy Nelson sighted two scriptures that touched me. The first one was in D&C 46:9, where the Lord tells us that he gives us gifts for the benefit of those who love him and keep all his commandments, but then he adds,
"AND HIM THAT SEEKETH SO TO DO"
He knows we can't be perfect all the time. What matters is that we want to be, and that we are trying to do His will.

Add to that D&C 60:7, where the Lord says " .....For I am able to make you holy, and your sins are forgiven you," and what do I have left to worry about? I don't have to make myself holy, that's what the atonement is for. I just have to desire it, and try my best. He makes up the difference.