Kristina

"Mom, who is she?" I asked about ten years ago.

"She's my step-cousin. She sang at Susan's funeral, remember?"

I did. I had never interacted with her in real life, but that's not what Facebook is about. So I added her.

And she liked everything I did on Facebook. She liked everything my siblings did on Facebook. It felt a little strange being liked so thoroughly by someone I didn't even know, but I got used to it.

She had opinions. She might have been the first person I knew to post favorably about liberal politics on Facebook. When the rest of us were bemoaning the Supreme Court holding up the Affordable Care Act in court in 2012, she posted how wonderful it was. She talked about how hard her mother, Susan, had worked for this. She loved Obama. She loved all the memes.

Hidden among the memes came snatches of her life story. She was in and out of the hospital as long as I could remember. Ever since she was born without tear ducts life had been one surgery after another. She posted about how she had been assaulted when she was young and how it had had lifelong effects. She posted about her mother and her activism. She posted about her puppy that she loved with all her heart.

And she loved us with all her heart, too. When my sisters and I would interact in silly ways on Facebook, she would comment, "I ADORE my Moon cousins!" She would announce her Facebook purges and remind us that she only wanted people who really mattered to her on her friend list. And we always made the cut.

She hurt. There were many, many times over the years where she would just post the word, "Pain." She would list her many medical conditions and tell us that the doctors didn't know how she was still alive. Sometimes she would post about how narrowly she had escaped death this time around. I couldn't believe how resilient a tired, pain-ridden body could be.

Through it all, her mind was sharp, and her spirit was indomitable. You could sense an almost manic energy coming from her with each post. The world needed to change! The world could change! Love was enough!

So when I think of Kristina, I think of energy and love. I think of persistence. I think of excitement. I remember a woman who was "All Enlisted" in everything she cared about. So much so, in fact, that she even started a group called "All Enlisted" to complement the "Wear Pants To Church" movement in December 2012. I want everyone to know what she wrote about it.

THE MOST AMAZING! THE MOST WONDERFUL! THE MOST MARVELOUS DAY!!!
this morning i finished 2 interviews. i spoke of my faith, my love for this church and this gospel. i spoke of my experience as a woman and how that is a beautiful thing. i spoke of my unshakable belief in this cause. i spoke of all of you, my sisters and brothers, your stories that have touched me so.
then i put on my sunday best : black pants, white sweater, and a priceless locket my mother gave me before she died with her picture tucked inside and an inscription, "FEEL LOVED." yes, i did feel loved. thank you, mom.
i pulled into my church parking lot. i remembered reading your stories -- some of you were scared, proud, nervous, calm. the spirit was with me. i walked up to my building with nothing but joy in my heart. as i opened the door to walk in, i heard a voice from behind that said, "wait!"
i turned around a beautiful sister in a pair of silk black pants, a silk black top and a long white pearl necklace that reached all the way down to her black belt, smiled at me. i held the door for both of us and i said, "you look beautiful." to which she said, "so do you!" we smiled and nodded knowingly, then entered our building together.
i started my count: 2 pants, 1 purple tie, 1 purple dress ...
i immediately saw my bishop walking down the hall as i was walking into relief society. he gave me a big hug and said, "you look beautiful." all week long, i had emailed him. he knows me well by now and we have talked about life, family, and various philosophies before; so, i knew it wouldn't be a surprise to him that i would be drawn to a group like this. i sent him a really long email earlier in the week explaining that on monday i joined All Enlisted, on tuesday i joined the Wear Pants to Church Day, on wednesday i met the dear sweet Stephanie Lauritzen and by thursday i had become the spokesperson of this event -- it happened that fast. i linked to him our FB page, i copy / pasted our philosophy, i bore my testimony of my belief not just in the Gospel but that i have a place in it. and if i have a place in it, than so does everyone else, orthodox and unorthodox alike. there was room for all of us. he wrote back in reply, "Thank you for your message and kind words for your fellow members of the Church. See you Sunday." now that sunday had come, he looked me in the eyes and smiled. i noticed he was wearing a purple tie. is that for me?
2 purple ties, 1 purple skirt ...
i walked by our library and the sweet little ole librarian looked at me and said, "you're wearing pants! you're not one of *those* are you?" and i said, "yep! in fact, that's my group! those are my people." and she looked at me and paused in thought, then she said, "pants would certainly be more modest than some of these short short skirts i see around now. and more comfortable, too." i replied, "then you should try it!" she shrugged and said, "maybe i should."
1 mind opened ...
i sat in relief society. i bowed my head in prayer, i sang some songs, i listened to a lesson. "Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid." John 14 : 27. yes yes yes!
1 spirit edified ...
i walked the hallway. some looked at me and noticed something different. yes they did, of course they did. and some, decked in their purple and / or their pants, would smile and wink. nothing more needed to pass between us.
4 pants, 3 purple ties, 2 purple shirts, 1 no longer feels alone ...
in sunday school, testimonies were shared, one's truth was spoken. one of our team teachers quoted, "as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same."
1 light shining ...
i spoke to the 1st counselor in my bishopric. he gave me a hug and said, "we need mormons like you. we need all kinds. we need the mitt romneys and the harry reids. maybe we need a few more harry reids, we got enough mitt romneys."
1 radical feminist democrat mormon accepted ...
there are two wards who meet at the same time in our meeting house. as i walked down the hall, i heard my name casually said and the words, All Enlisted, in the same sentence. i stopped and said, "hi. my name is kristina monson." a lovely sister in a pair of pants with a purple ribbon in her hair, her husband with a purple tie, another sister in a purple skirt, and one other brother with a green tie had gathered. they were surprised and immediately hugs were passed all around. we spoke for a moment, we cheered each other on, emails and facebook info were exchanged.
5 pants, 4 purple ties, 3 purple skirts, 4 new friends made ...
sacrament meeting began. my bishop spoke these wise words, "if you want to be heard, then listen." a brother shared this jem, "Jesus Christ claimed the name I AM in the Old Testament and the New Testament. he wasn't I WAS or I WILL BE but I AM. should you say the words, 'i am ugly' that also means 'Christ is ugly.' be careful when you say 'i am' for you must be sure that you could also say that about Christ." I AM A WOMAN! I AM A FEMINIST!
1 heart swelling, 1 mind that no longer needs to count.
the last moments of church was spent singing a beautiful hymn, "Peace / Silent Night." i closed my eyes and pictured that young babe wrapped in swaddling clothes. PEACE. a young mother cradled him in her arms. PEACE. a young earthly father wrapped a warm blanket around them. PEACE. a pair of heavenly parents from the ancients proudly sent angels down to herald his arrival. PEACE.
2 earthly parents + 2 heavenly parents = my Savior. 2 sets of equal partnerships (neither man before the woman nor the woman before the man) nurtured and guided his path as he taught, broke bread, performed miracles, healed the sick, remembered and forgave, then ultimately sacrificed it all so that i could be here now. a woman in this divinely inspired church. a woman with tears streaming down her face. a woman in pants. 




When I read this, I couldn't help but want to wear pants to church too. It took me 7 years, but I finally did. And I was glad again for my beautiful, energetic, step-cousin once removed.

Thanks for everything, Kristina.