Episode 161: I couldn’t feel the love of God until I learned to love myself with Chaplain Jenna Carson

Meagan Skidmore:
Welcome everyone to the podcast today. I believe this will be the first episode I roll out under my rebranding. I am moving in the direction of focusing on the life and the joy that’s on the other side—maybe that’s on the other side of a faith journey, a spiritual journey—when your foundation gets rocked and you start anew. Welcome to Living Beyond the Shadow of Doubt. Today I have Jenna Carson with me, and thankfully we made our schedules work and made this interview happen today. I appreciate that so much, Jenna, and welcome.

Jenna Carson:
Thank you so much, Meagan. I’m so happy to have this conversation.

Meagan:
Me too. I want everybody listening to be able to soak up all you have to offer, so I’m just going to turn the time over to you. Give us an intro—your background, your story, your origin, where you’re from, your family, religion, profession, all those things.

Jenna:
My name is Jenna Carson, and I currently live in Mississippi. I am a chaplain in the United States Air Force, stationed at Keesler Air Force Base. As a chaplain, I provide spiritual care and counseling for individuals of any or no faith background and any or no faith practice. I’m responsible for helping people during some of the most difficult times of their lives and as they work through deep questions—whether it’s suffering from loss of a loved one, suicidal ideation, depression, divorce. I get to be in the midst of the struggle with people who trust me with their stories, and I love what I do.

Before the Air Force, I worked as a prison chaplain, and before that in a hospital. I’ve been fortunate to have different settings where I’ve provided spiritual care and ministry. As a chaplain I also preach and lead worship services for Christians since I am a Christian. I provide services, which is interesting as a practicing Latter-day Saint woman, because I don’t do that in my own denomination, but I do it in my work setting—which I love.

I kind of grew up all over: mostly Kentucky in childhood, Idaho in my teen years. I went to college at Brigham Young University in Utah, grad school at Harvard in Massachusetts, worked in Pennsylvania, and now Mississippi. I served an LDS mission in Florida and speak some Spanish—very out of practice. I’ve felt a strong faith in God since childhood. The defining experience for me started as a young teenager. I remember coming home from school, kneeling in my closet, and deciding I would stay there as long as I needed to get an answer from God—asking, “Are you real? Is everything I’ve been taught true?” I felt a palpable presence of the divine. From then on, I’ve had a strong sense of divine presence. Of course I’ve had moments of doubt—still do—and I embrace all of it.

Meagan:
That is beautiful. I can’t wait to dive in. Like you, I’ve learned to embrace all of it. It’s a roller coaster—highs and deep lows, the rush going down, the steep climb that takes a while and requires a lot of trust and belief. You served a mission and grew up in the LDS faith—the faith of your parents and grandparents going back generations?

Jenna:
It does not go back generations. My parents both joined the church as teenagers, separately. My father’s father joined the church, and my mother’s mother joined the church. It was pretty new for my parents. It brought them a lot of peace and a different lifestyle than they’d seen before. They’re converts.

Meagan:
Got it. I love getting the big-picture background. You mentioned there are things you do in your job that you don’t do in your faith community. Can we talk more about that?

Jenna:
Absolutely. My journey to become a woman minister and still be active in the LDS church has been complex and long. I was in graduate school at Harvard Divinity School, studying religion and getting a Master of Divinity, when I felt God calling me to ministry—that divine pull toward a path. First semester of the three-year program, I felt I was meant to be a chaplain and do this vocation. I studied chaplaincy, took classes on spiritual care and counseling, and felt called to become a military chaplain—which surprised me. I’d never been interested in joining the military until I felt called to serve in a male-dominated setting. There aren’t many women chaplains in the military, and I thought I could be an asset to other women (and of course all genders).

I thought it would be easy to pursue, but I learned the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints had never allowed a woman to be a military chaplain. This was in 2015. I advocated for myself and for policy change, because the first step is endorsement from your church. It took years. I finally got endorsement in 2021 and then joined the military—2021 or 2022. Along the way, as a prison chaplain, I was required to preach. I’d given talks in sacrament meeting, but preaching was new. I learned to preach for a non-denominational Protestant worship service. In the military, that has even included providing communion at times. I do what my job requires and stay in close communication with my endorser at church headquarters. I love my endorser. We’ve had to talk through things outside the usual box of what women can do in the church.

For example, I wanted to provide a baptismal service on Pentecost—common in non-denominational settings. I wasn’t saying I’d perform baptisms; another chaplain could. My endorser said no. He pointed to a line in the chaplains’ handbook. We’re on new ground for LDS women chaplains—what we can do and what we’re permitted to do by our endorser. We’re shaping history. Don Dimmick (first Army chaplain) and Sierra Larson (Air Force Reserve) are also part of this; we’re learning together.

Meagan:
So many directions to explore. Help us understand the dynamic: there’s what your job requires and there’s what your endorser (your church) permits.

Jenna:
Yes. There’s a department at church headquarters with people who run chaplaincy endorsement for the church. In the Pentecost example, the worship team lead said some people wanted to be baptized. I was the lead pastor for the Sunday service, so it was up to me to provide that if there was a need. I brought it to my wing chaplain (my boss). He wisely asked if I’d checked with my endorser. The wing chaplain asks chaplains to provide religious rites appropriate to what they’re allowed to do by their ecclesiastical body.

It’s a dance: ensuring the chaplain does only what the endorser permits, while also providing for the spiritual and religious needs of everyone on base. I asked my endorser; he kindly said no. It turned out no one wanted baptism at that time anyway. But this shows how complicated it is. Under the government umbrella we’re categorized as Protestant, but we’re not typical Protestant—don’t follow certain creeds—so there’s mistrust and lots of new ground. I love it, even though it’s scary sometimes because I worry about mis-stepping. Then I remember: God’s got it. I’ll follow the Spirit. The worst I can do is ask. If the endorser says no, it’s no; if yes, I move forward. Professionally, I must follow the endorser’s guidelines. It’s hard sometimes because at work I don’t feel some of the constraints I feel in the LDS Church, so there’s cognitive dissonance. I work through it.

Meagan:
Fascinating—thank you. You said it’s been a complex journey to become a woman minister. That calling began your first semester at Harvard Divinity School. What was that like—did you think, “Are you talking to me?”

Jenna:
There was discernment: is this me or God? But confirmations kept coming—spiritual signs to keep pushing. In the beginning, before I’d even talked to church headquarters, I spoke with an LDS Navy chaplain. When I told him I wanted to be a military chaplain, he said, “That will never happen.” I was frustrated, and in my head I thought, “Yes, it will.” I had strong conviction—he just didn’t know yet.

I saw him years later. He said, “You did it.” Not “congratulations”—just “you did it.” I don’t know if he’s happy I did it, but that’s none of my business. He can have his feelings; I’ll have mine.

Meagan:
You’re the first LDS female chaplain in the military. Are you the first female chaplain?

Jenna:
No. There’s a rich history of LDS women in chaplaincy. Chaplain Don Dimmick in the Army has researched this. Early on, women were kind of doing it on their own—before there was a formal department at church headquarters overseeing endorsement. Processes have changed over the years. Tammy Harris is a big pioneer—now an associate endorser at the church—who did chaplaincy work for decades. She quietly went about it without drawing attention, and I think she just didn’t ask permission because she knew God called her. She once met with Elder Holland and asked if he knew; he said, “Oh yeah, we’ve known.”

In 2014, the church began officially endorsing women for hospital and hospice chaplaincy—all forms except military. The belief was that women don’t have the priesthood and can’t provide religious rites. There were unspoken reasons. I never understood why it wasn’t allowed, so I kept pressing—women serve missions, serve in the temple. I didn’t do it eloquently; I often broke into tears talking to the person at headquarters. But I couldn’t stop asking. For years.

Meagan:
What finally turned the answer into a yes?

Jenna:
I asked the endorser if he had prayed about it. He admitted he hadn’t. I asked him to pray. Things started to change—still took a few years. Other factors helped: I wasn’t the only one asking. Don Dimmick had been asking; women over the years had called with questions. Culture was shifting. The former endorser retired; a new endorser arrived. The former one paved the way, to be fair. He had to take the question through committees—the Priesthood and Family Committee, up to the Twelve. I also wrote a letter to President Nelson; that was pivotal. Ultimately, it was cultural practice of not including women, and we needed a prophet willing and ready to make changes. It all came together, and finally it was a yes.

Meagan:
I love that behind-the-scenes view.

Jenna:
When you mentioned self-differentiation, joy, and bliss alongside institutional struggle—those struggles with my institution deepened my communion with God. Men were telling me no; God was telling me yes. That was different from my church experience where I was used to doing what men said. I had to lean on and trust God. I kept giving it to God—“I don’t know what to do; I give this to you”—and God paved the way, told me when to push or step back, when to speak out or stay silent. A deep trust in God formed, and also some distrust of institution because I’ve seen how decisions are made. In any institution there must be order and people with differing opinions.

Seeing behind the scenes helped me humanize the church experience and be humble. I’m flawed and deeply need the grace of God, like everyone. As a minister, I see how hard it is to show up for people in the right way all the time. As frustrated as I’ve been, I also see my imperfections. My loyalty is first to God, second to church. Growing up, I didn’t know how to differentiate the two. Now I do, and it’s very freeing.

Meagan:
Earlier you talked about cognitive dissonance and constraints. How did you work through that to reach these unmistakable moments of joy and clarity—that sense of “this is what I’m supposed to be doing”? I often hear guests say their inner voice diverged from what they were taught or what leaders said. Recently, I interviewed a same-sex couple raised LDS who felt strongly they were supposed to be together—no inner dissonance—just outside judgment. How do you work through it and get to the other side?

Jenna:
First, thank you for mentioning that couple. I’m so grateful for our LGBTQ+ community in the LDS world. I see individuals and couples doing important work to educate the rest of us. Charlie Bird and Ryan Clifford come to mind—their beautiful marriage and presence. I hate that they get so much hate online. I’ve been thinking about all the people we marginalize in our church; those who feel called to speak up—I celebrate that.

For me—as a cisgender heterosexual woman—it’s different, but still challenging. The cognitive dissonance is hard. I was so angry this past Sunday at church—one of those days I could feel the frustration. I prayed: “Jenna, be here with people loved by God and whom you love. Just be with them.” I felt the love of the community even as I sat frustrated.

Over the years, I’ve handled it in different ways. I’ve spent a lot of time going to other churches—so healing. My anchor is Sunday worship in the LDS church where I take the sacrament, but I also often go to other churches. I go to Mass a lot—before and while dating a Catholic man. Going to other churches puts things in perspective because every church is flawed. I haven’t found one that contains all I want, and that’s good—it shows we’re all doing our best.

Meagan:
How has leaning into the questions and doubts blessed your life?

Jenna:
It’s very freeing—and sometimes terrifying. There’s rhetoric in the LDS church around “knowing,” but the deeper in love I am with God—and I truly am in love with God—the more I’m okay with not knowing. I’m looking at a picture of Jesus on my wall. After my divorce, I went through a phase where I wanted to marry Jesus—be a nun—because I felt so loved and held.

It’s freeing to find my anchor in God—a being I haven’t encountered face-to-face. I feel a divine presence. I follow what Nephi said when the angel asked if he knew the condescension of God: “I don’t know the meaning of all things, but I know that God loves His children.” God is love—that’s what I feel sure about. The rest, I’m asking questions. Some Latter-day Saints might want me to say I “know,” but the more I journey, the more I don’t know—and that’s amazing.

On New Year’s Eve I was in New Orleans (tragically there was a mass killing later). Before that, in the Museum of Art with the man I’m dating—a chemist—I felt close to God. I asked him, “Do you ever wonder…what if there is no God?” He said yes. Even though I feel close to God, I still have moments of “What if this is all in my head?” I think that’s normal. He said, with all the organization in the universe, it would be a low probability that there isn’t a creator. I love that. There’s so much order—in the universe and in my communion with God. I pray and feel something beyond me. That’s the comfort I return to in doubt.

Meagan:
Beautifully said. Anything you’d like to leave with listeners—pain points of the journey, insights you’ve gained?

Jenna:
God is so big—beyond the boxes our minds create. We can only imagine God from our own psychological situatedness, so when we imagine, I encourage imagining a God who is infinitely better than we can understand. We need to love ourselves. I couldn’t truly feel the love of God until I learned to love myself. The deeper I go in spiritual practice—calming my nervous system, grounding, loving myself in all my flaws—the deeper I love others and the more I can experience the love of God. If it isn’t love, it’s not God. And if we’re not loving ourselves, my prayer is that we find ways to start so we can feel that deep, infinite love of the divine.

Meagan:
I love it. I agree—self-love is the source of all our other loves. It’s not selfish; it’s holding who we are as God’s beloved. One last question: what does living beyond the shadow of doubt mean to you?

Jenna:
Living in the light. As spiritual beings, we can live in the light. That doesn’t mean we know everything or never have doubt. We can move out of the shadow of darkness and despair. Darkness and despair are important and necessary—we can’t know light without shadow. For me, living beyond the shadow of doubt is knowing the darkness doesn’t last. There’s always light, and I can keep walking the spiritual path.

Meagan:
I love it. A few for-fun rapid-fire questions—one- or two-word answers. Favorite book?

Jenna:
To Kill a Mockingbird. Also Harry Potter. And Lit by Mary Karr. I can’t pick one.

Meagan:
Introvert or extrovert?

Jenna:
Actually an introvert. Everyone thinks I’m an extrovert, but I get my energy by myself.

Meagan:
Favorite artist?

Jenna:
So hard. I’m partial to Monet.

Meagan:
Monet is a good one.

Jenna:
I went to see the Water Lilies in France. After being in that room where they’re wrapped around you—my life was changed.

Meagan:
Night owl or morning lark?

Jenna:
Total history of insomnia and being a night owl who likes to work through the night.

Meagan:
I’m working on being a morning person. The military helps with that.

Jenna:
I’m sure it does.

Meagan:
Celebrity crush?

Jenna:
Growing up, Matt Damon. Recently, after watching Lessons in Chemistry—Calvin Evans, the chemist. I called my mom: “I need to meet my Calvin Evans.” And now I’m dating a chemist—you never know.

Meagan:
Still or carbonated water—or diet soda?

Jenna:
Still water—with lemon or plain.

Meagan:
Farthest place you’ve traveled?

Jenna:
I think Egypt.

Meagan:
Nice—hieroglyphics and all.

Jenna:
Oh, yeah.

Meagan:
If folks want to reach out to connect or ask questions, what’s the easiest way?

Jenna:
My website is JennaCarson.com—there’s a contact form. Please check out my podcast with my co-host, Sierra Larson. It’s called Guiding Light; we interview wellness specialists and talk holistic health—spiritual, mental, physical. We’re also running a retreat for women—a wellness camp in May. I can share the link. On Instagram, I just opened to the public: @JennaCarsonWrites (I’m a writer).