The Beauty of Being Involved

by April

So, contrary to what many have discussed thus far on Normal Mormons, I actually really like my ward. I didn't even have to ward shop! We've lived in the same place for a year, and it hasn't been just until recently that I've had the time and will to actually participate and go every Sunday. But as a new year's resolution, I promised that I would go to everything I possibly could, do my visiting teaching, fulfill my calling as a Mia Maids advisor, and attend enrichment meetings etc... So far, I am doing pretty awesome.

Not gonna lie though, I used to dread going to church and activities. I was always the "new" girl - and no one really knew me very well. Plus, church is boring. I'm sorry - but unless there's an extraordinarily charismatic speaker, I can't pay attention for the life of me. Even in Sunday School. Especially in Sunday School, ugh. But lately, I've found that the friendships I've made with both the youth, the leaders, and many of the women in RS that I actually look forward to showing up.

Sure, perhaps it's bad that I look forward to going to church because of friends or social activities, but honestly how many people do that? Countless. Even the older folks who are supposed to be "attentive" and all "filled with the spirit" doze off, read a book, etc... (even the Bishop!) which honestly - isn't right. At least I look like I'm paying attention instead of blatantly ignoring the speaker like most do.

My husband's view on church callings is quite different - I think I'll have him do a guest post!

Comment Response to Mo'Dar

Occasionally, I take a comment and make it public. Usually this occurs when the comment was particularly heinous or controversial and is easy to make fun of. Here's the newest one!

How does a shopper at Old Navy...etc....make one more likely to be mormon?

Old Navy offers a plethora of clothing for the young and old - much of which is suitable to cover garments. Not to mention the fact that Old Navy's are rampant in Idaho and Utah. Most people who shop at Old Navy aren't Mormon - it's all the Mormons that shop at Old Navy. Same with other stores. Just because you shop there doesn't make you a Mo'. It just so happens that Mo's frequent these store for a whole laundry list of reasons that I won't go into.

I shop at nearly all those places and am far from Mormon.

Again...not saying that shopping there makes you one. Saying that lots of Mo's shop there.

Pretty sure that all of my family enjoys those hoppies listed...how do any of those point to Mormonism...

I too enjoy hoppies.

Please enlighten me on the following: How is a male who is a white collar worker more likely to be mormon than a blue collar working male???

From personal experience, many of the Mormons I know have a white collar occupation. I don’t know why! Maybe it's where I live.

Isn't that a little egocentric???

Yes.

My dear, I think that you have truely become one with them; which I'm sure was your goal. However, it is really sad that you are mature enough to make your own decisions yet have been so easily brainwashed. My prayers are with you.

Am I the one who is brainwashed? Are you're prayers REALLY with me? It is easy to point out the eccentricities of others. I simply do it about myself and my religion. We are a funny group of people and it can be easy to identify us. Besides, what's so bad about having children, having a loving Christian home, covering up, treating your body right, and doing the right things? If that's brainwashing then bring it on!

Mo'Dar

Mormons are funny creatures. Now that I am a full-fledged temple recommend-holding Mormon - I've developed pretty good Mo'Dar. This is "radar" only the kind that is exceptionally good at seeking the following criteria.

The Celestial Smile or "MoGee Lines." This refers to the outlines made by garments visible under the clothes. The celestial smile is the line formed by the neckline. "MoGee" is slang for "Mormon Garment."

CTR Ring. More obvious is the Choose The Right ring, worn widely mostly by RM's (Return Missionaries) and young adults.

The Haircut: The missionary haircut is seen throughout the majority of a young male RM's life. Haircut Mo'Dar for females is not accurate. However, you can usually be accurate in assuming a female with an RM haircut is NOT a Mormon.

Geography. There's a 75% chance that someone who lives in Utah is Mormon. About a 27% chance that someone from Idaho is Mormon. Of course this varies by city or town. Where I live, I would say there's a good 50% chance that some random stranger you meet is Mormon. In Idaho Falls - just 45 minutes away - that percentage jumps to probably 80%. There's some pretty sweet statistics at this site if you're interested.

Clothing. If your Mo'Dar is unable to decipher MoGee lines, or if the subject begins to feel uncomfortable as you examine them - pay attention to their clothing. Do the women wear capped sleeve shirts and long skirts or pants? Do the men wear button up or polo shirts? Young adults of the Mormon persuasion tend to dress modestly by comparison. This is more difficult to decipher as subjects increase in age.

Shopping habits. The likelihood of a subject being Mormon increases greatly if they are found shopping or working at any of these stores - Old Navy, Motherhood, OfficeMax, Costco, Sam's Club, Abercrombie and Fitch, Aeropostale, JoAnn's Fabrics, and of course any store with the actual name of the church or "Deseret" in it.

Occupation. The likelihood that one is Mormon increases if they have any of these occupations. For men: student, doctor, physicians assistant, computer hardware/software tech., dentist, or manager. For women: Teacher, Stay-At-Home-Mom, any type of service work, nurse, or dental hygienist.

House décor. If you've stopped by the new neighbor’s house for a visit, be sure your Mo'Dar pays attention to the house decor. If there aren’t readily any photos of Jesus on the wall, check for wall plaques with sayings like “Families are Forever,” Ensign magazines strewn about, or a framed family proclamation.

Office décor. First, note the subjects age. The younger the professional, the more likely they are Mormon. Then take note of photographs of family. 3 or more children will throw your Mo’Dar into overdrive. If neither of these things are noted, check for Mormon paraphernalia such as LDS mouse pads or plaques with inspirational quotes often used at the MTC.

Number of children vs. age of parents. The likelihood of one being Mormon is inversely proportionate to age, and directly proportionate to number of children. The higher the number of children and the lower the age of the parents increases the chances of Mormonism. For example, a 22 year old with three children is MORE likely to be Mormon than a 32 year old with four children. However, a 32 year old with 8 children is just as likely to be Mormon as a 22 year old with 4 children.

Age of Children. If the subject’s children are 2 or less years apart in age, the chances of them being Mormon are greater.

Last but not least, Hobbies. If you find a subject participating in any of these hobbies, they are more likely to be Mormon. For men: Video games, hunting, fishing, golf, blogging, and watching TV. For women: Scrapbooking, blogging, sewing, cooking (especially anything with Jell-O), or blogging.

The Stake President Saw Me Naked

Well, bascially. It felt like it.

I am ashamed. I have all these cute summer clothes. Mostly tank tops and shorts. I've had them for years and they're perfectly broken in. Granted, sometimes they leave little to the imagination, but with 100 degree heat I'm prepared to run around naked if that's what it takes.

Yesterday I was of course sporting the tank top and short shorts while hubby and I were dropping off a movie real quick. Normally, I wouldn't be caught dead in public wearing an outfit like that - they are generally strictly for "home use." But we were in a rush because he had to get to the stake president's office to get his recommend signed. My endowment is this weekend, and of course he's put it off until now.

We let the time get away from us, and realized that I would have to take him over to the stake center for his interview, then pick him up afterward. I dropped him off, but instead of leaving I decided to just wait in the car.

About ten minutes later hubby emerges asking for more "documentation" or something - with the stake president right behind him. I am literally thinking, "Oh, Shit." Which is perhaps not the right thing to be thinking at this juncture. I shuffled around in the backseat to try and find something to cover myself up with. (The cleavage in this shirt I was wearing is a little rediculous.) I found my girl's camp sweatshirt and just as the stake president approached the car, I wrapped it around myself.

More than a little embarassed, my husband feigned some excuse that we were swimming and tried to get him away from me.

A few things I learned on this adventure:

1. Always be prepared (i.e. don't dress slutty) to meet someone important at any time of the day.

2. My broken in clothes will no longer be feasible after this weekend.

3. Wearing garments will be a very rude awakening. But still an excuse to buy more clothes.

4. Always keep a large sweater in your car. Not only for a situation like this - but just in case you get mugged and they take your clothes.

5. Have good excuses handy.

My Embarassing Temple Trip

Last night our ward drove up to the Idaho Falls temple to do baptisms for the dead with the Youth.

I drove up to the church, making sure I had extra underwear and makeup for afterward packed away in my little brown bag in my purse. I was right on time, at 5pm. However according to Mormon time I was 15 minutes early. So I waited around for some others to show up. I was wearing a tea length skirt and flip flops as the other youth leaders arrived in long skirts, heels, and pantyhose. I huddled with the people I knew the most, and watched four suburbans pull into the parking lot. The prayer was given once everyone arrived, and the bishop handed me my temporary temple recommend. (Mine had expired, and I've been too lazy to get a new one.) We piled into one of the suburbans, and of course I sat in the very back next to the luggage. The women had these ugly floral laptop-case-looking bags, which I assumed carried the stuff that I brought in a paper sack. All in all, there were four girls and two guys in the car, all my age.

I looked around and realized that there is a distinct possibility that I was completely misplaced. This may be purely coincidental, but the three women in front of me all had the exact same cropped bob for a haircut, with blonde highlights on top, and a burgundy red underneath. They all wore the loose fitting empire waist shirts with short sleeves that gather at the shoulder. Pantyhose, long skirts, and black tacky shoes. They all started talking about their babies and toddlers. Drool this, poop that. I looked out the window and tried to remember where I was going, and what I was doing. Despite the fact that the Young Adults of the Corn were taking me there.

Once we got to the temple, we sat in pews to have prayer. The temple workers informed us that any endowed members won't be able to get baptized, and would have to help. Therefore all the adults went to get their temple clothes on. I am not endowed yet. So there I sat. The only woman over the age of 17. I talked to the girls, trying to pretend that I ELECTED to get baptized with them "to be cool."

I have only done baptisms for the dead once, so I was rusty. Rusty as in, I looked a little lost the entire time. Thankfully, the endowed sisters realized that I was terrified and guided me along in the least condescending way possible. When it was my turn, I stepped into the nice warm, chlorine filled water. The guy baptizing looked a little scrawny, so I decided beforehand that I would help him out a little and be sure to really "push" off the bottom when he brought me back out of the water. (Let's face it, his arms would get tired.) However, I was entirely too eager and had to be "re-dipped" twice. Frick, even the teenagers could do this part.

After all was said and done, I was basically over my sheer mortification. (What could be worse than being dressed in a white jumpsuit that gets completely soaking wet?) So I gave up on the whole "trying to look cool and knowledgeable" thing, and dripped my way into the locker room. I got dressed, and prepared to do my makeup. However, the slick counters, partnered with my clumsiness, made a fascinating scene as my foundation shattered on the floor. Thankfully, it was that “solid” mousse stuff, so it didn’t get everywhere. But if you ever visit the Idaho Falls temple, and get your foot sliced open by broken glass – that was my fault.

I barely made it to the “movie” room (which is new to me…) and tried to isolate myself in a corner to not cause any further humiliation. All the girls came in and sat next to me. They talked about how many times they had seen “Johnny Lingo,” and I ended up confessing that I had never seen it. They gasped in horror. Or maybe jealousy. Like, “Your mom let’s you watch non-LDS movies?” Yes. My mom.

The scrawny guy that baptized me came in and apologized for not knowing who I was, and having to ask my name at the font. He remembered that I was new to the ward. He said he assumed I was a new “Youth.” That was the best news I heard all day.

Now for the best part. The food. We trekked downstairs to the cafeteria. I was ravenous, but tried to minimize the piling on of food since the ward was footing the bill. I got a normal sized plate of food, with a piece of pumpkin pie. (And I even omitted the scone for diet purposes.) I sat in front of my visiting teacher and her husband only to witness that them, along with everyone else, had done the opposite of me. Three scones, pie, salad, chicken, veggies, Jello, potatoes, milk, soup, fruit, juice, butter, all on one tray. However, ultimately I am glad my eyes weren’t bigger than my stomach as it was more that satisfying. Apparently, people actually fast all day to prepare for this temple food, and I can see why. Yum!

It was a great experience. Embarrassing at times, but really great. And even though the women who drove with me are all a little “Carrie Conformist,” I think I am going to make a concerted effort to make them my friends.

The Perfect Calling

I've had one calling in my life, and that was to run the Enrichment meetings on Wednesday nights. Since I was a nomad in college, that lasted all of about a month. I've never really gotten a chance to have a real calling.

But now that my husband and I have settled down, I am very excited to announce that I have a NEW calling. I will be a Young Women's advisor, more specifically the Mia Maids advisor! Okay - it's not like I'm the RS president, but I seriously think Heavenly Father was inspiring the bishop when they picked this one.

Every weekend I hang out with my 13 year old niece and her friend. First of all because it's fun, and having family over all weekend is what I look forward to. Secondly, I am hoping that by hanging out at my house, I can be a "good influence" and keep them out of trouble. They both consider me to be a best friend (second only to each other), and so they tell me everything. Which is scary because I have found that they have pregnant, lesbian, gay, sexually active, peers who are considered "popular" at their school. Fortunatley, I have also found that they both have good heads on their shoulders. My niece comes from a Lutheran father, and an inactive LDS mother, so she only goes to church when she's at Nana and Papa's house. Her friend isn't a member. But this Sunday they asked if they could go to church with us. Strange, because Mormon church for a 13 year old is like pulling teeth. It's almost that way for me sometimes.

We went to church and I was sustained. Then absolutely the MOST boring talks occured, assuredly reaffirming my nieces former thoughts on church. Her friend tried to pay attention, but was too focused on the fact that she wore sporty capri pants to church instead of a skirt. We wrote notes back and forth, and my husband tried to keep the spirit by playing a matching game. He wrote down the names of people in the Bible and BoM and made us guess their description. The girls and I drew lines from "Adam" to "ate the apple" and from Moses to "parted the red sea." From "Noah" to "built the ark" and from "Moroni" to "buried the plates." We got all the Bible ones right, and got stuck on the more difficult BoM ones.

Then we went to Dairy Queen for Sunday School. I was trying to do my best to convince the girls to stay for Young Women's, which was becoming more difficult as the weekend's boredom came to a head. So we had some ice cream, and sneaked back into church. The talk was on endowments. Since I haven't even gotten mine yet, I thought it was strangely appropriate to talk about it.

My talk next week is preparing to go to the temple, which I will be doing on 08/08/08.

So this calling will not only encourage my niece and her friend to attend church for nothing other than to "hang out" with me at this point, but it will also give me a chance to actually know what Young Women's is like. I never went, so I have no clue what you are supposed to learn. But maybe that's why God wants me there - to learn too! I mean, how perfect is it to have two talks on the two next steps in my own salvation - the endowment and temple marriage! I also will need to get the inactive girls to come to church, which I hope will be easy since 13 year olds tend to think I'm "cool" already... well, I think.

This truly was the perfect calling!

I Went to Baptist Church on Sunday

Since it was Mother's Day, I catered to my mom who wanted to attend Baptist church. I had forgotten my church clothes altogether, but she said it didn't matter what I wore, because everyone there wears jeans and t-shirts. So, my grandma, my mom, and I all drove into downtown Boise to attend church.

The parking lot was full, and the church was nestled among a little old neighborhood. The moment I walked in, the smell of coffee hit my like a ton of bricks. We entered on the lower level, and looked above us to see a landing that lead into the chapel. The architecture was modern, with lots of glass, metal, and fancy carpet. We went up the stairs. Casually dressed teenagers were chatting in a group, and families were putting their kids into the nursery nearby. In the chapel, people were turning and shaking the hands of their neighbors.

Mom: Oh good, we didn’t miss the meet and greet.

She led me over to the pastor to introduce us. He was shorter, probably in his late 40’s early 50’s, wore glasses, had tan skin and distinguished gray hair. He wore a light blue button up shirt, with rolled up sleeves, and khaki slacks. He wasn’t particularly good-looking, but he resembled maybe a car salesman. He shook my hand, and started up more conversation with my mom, who was ecstatic to be introducing us.

I jumped when the sound of drums resonated through the church. A band began playing an upbeat song. Upon closer inspection, I saw that there was a stage with a full band playing. Electric guitars, drums, microphones, the works… The giant silver organ was behind them, and above it was a projector screen with the words to the current song in a funky font. The woman singing looked almost identical to Carrie Underwood, and people were “gently” jamming out in the pews. We found a spot to sit, and my mom and grandma began clapping. I didn’t really know what to do, so I kind of swayed back and forth, smiling. I then lit my fake lighter and proceeded to hold it up, kind of as a joke. My mom and grandma had no problem copying me, and laughed.

All the while I’m thinking – Hey, this is pretty awesome. We need a sacrament meeting like this!

After two more songs…and 15 minutes of standing, we sat down and another Carrie Underwood-esque woman began to speak.

“It’s Mother’s Day, can I get an ‘Amen!’”

The church responded, “Amen!”

Her small introduction has us saying “Amen” at least twice more before Pastor Bob – or Joe – came up. He began to talk about the story in the Bible of the prophet Elijah, when God told him to go stay with this woman who wasn’t Christian. The point of the story was giving, or tithing. Mom broke out her “study” guide, where there was a list of reasons NOT to give, and the reasons they should be overcome. Here was a synopsis of the pastor’s talk (almost perfectly accurate too.)

“Did you know that rich people give less, and poor people give more? That’s how it always is. The rich give less percentage wise of what they have, and the poor give more of a percent of what they have. Only 2.4% of what people have is given to God. I knew someone that went to a church in (some middle eastern country), and they tithed regularly, no matter how poor they were. They weren’t Mormons, they were Christians….”

I stopped listening for a moment to remove the dagger he just stabbed into my chest. Ouch, man. Then I began thinking – wouldn’t this problem of giving be solved if everyone just gave 10 percent like the Bible says? Funny thing though, my mom and grandma’s tithing goes to the pastors salary, not the needy.

He continued, and I looked around at how quiet everything was. Ah, no kids, I realized. All the children and babies were in the nursery. (This is one thing that we need to do in our church.) The projector screen displayed the points of the pastor’s talk, and funky graphics to go along with it. After more singing and dancing, the sermon was over. While the whole thing was “fun” and the story was actually interesting, I was spiteful.

A few hours later at home, my best friend from elementary school came over, and as always, the topics of conversation were religion and politics. It’s a good thing we all agree politically (go Hillary!), but in our happy little mix was a Mormon, a Jew (my friend), a Baptist, and a Lutheran (Grandma). We are always able to talk about religion in a calm and cool way…without arguing. I tried to explain the degrees of heaven, the spirit world, etc… and surprisingly, none of them objected or argued.

My mom began talking about what she believed in and I was taken aback once again. She didn’t believe that the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit were all one being. She believed they were all separate. I thought Baptists didn’t think that way, and only Mormons believed they were separate. She then began saying how she wants to live on the “new Earth” not on some “cloud” in the skies when she dies. She wanted to live on the terrestrial kingdom? She also said she believed that there was a “place” where everyone goes before they die, not to Heaven right away. I told her all about the spirit world and its purpose. She told me more about what she believed, and none of it conflicted with our teachings. Aside from her dependence on coffee and cigarettes. I found a segue and poured out the story of Joseph Smith, the Book of Mormon, and almost everything. After which she said:

“Okay, so say I believe all that. What if SATAN was actually doing all this? What if Satan was the one who inspired Joseph Smith and are leading all of you astray?”

I replied, “Why would Satan want us to be good people? He’s not inspiring us to go kill people. Mormons are known for being “good people,” so how can Satan really have anything to do with that?”

It all made sense to her. She didn’t say “Sign me up” or anything, but she understood surprisingly well. But I had to start my drive home, and didn’t have time to continue.

I think slowly, she will begin to understand. I want the missionaries to go over there, but I don’t want her to think I am trying to convert her. I just want her to understand more than anything else.

Here’s hoping!

Cutting Out Early - A Sunday Story

Yesterday my husband and I got in a fight before church. He was still laying in bed, and I was nagging at him to get up and shave his "14 O'Clock Shadow" as I put it. He refused to shave - but I refused to let him go to church looking like a caveman, so I told him not to even bother getting dressed.

I stormed out of the house and drove to church, where I sat in the third row all nervous and heated. I practiced my closing prayer in my head, constantly looking back at the door to see if my husband had changed his mind and decided to come. I texted him, but no answer. I was so mad that he wasn't there for my first prayer, because I didn't know when to go up - or what to do really - and I needed his help. When it was time for my prayer, I said something like this:

Our Father in Heaven, we are so grateful for the testimonies heard today
And we are so very grateful for this fast Sunday
We ask that the testimonies heard today will inspire each of us to strengthen our own testimonies
And we ask that our fasting and prayers help those in need, and our own families
We humbly say these things in the name of Jesus Christ Amen.

My closed eyelids were shaking, and I was worried that my skirt was tucked into my underwear or something, since the bishopric was sitting two feet behind me the whole time.

It went pretty well, but the moment I was finished I grabbed my purse and bolted out of church and went home.

As I was walking in to my house, I spotted my Mormon neighbor. His wife must have stayed home too, but he was just now leaving to go to church.

Husband was sitting on the couch playing video games. I went upstairs and got dressed in a tank top and shorts, and began to furiously clean the house. I made sure to stomp by the TV frequently, and opened up the blinds to let the sun shine in so he couldn't see the screen.

As my temper died down, I finally broke down and just said - "Hey, let's have a barbecue." So we loaded up the kids (neices, and nephew) and went to the store and bought burgers, hotdogs, charcoal, and the works. We remembered we needed plates, cups, and utensils, so we headed home real quick to grab some.

As we pulled into our apartment complex, we spotted a lady from our ward walking home from church. Her back was to us, so we stopped the car and began slowly creeping backwards, so she wouldn't spot us.

Husband: "I didn't know she lived here too!"
Me: "Oh crap, I think she's coming to visit us!"

We all watched intently from the car, which was stopped in the dead middle of the parking lot, as the woman approached our door....

She passed it up and proceeded to walk through our yard to her house. But then she stopped. And started talking to another woman from the ward!

Me: "Good grief, everyone who lives here is from our church!"
Husband: "Pull into the spot behind my truck, maybe she won't see us."

So I did. But the tactic failed horribly and we were within perfect view. I reversed slowly, and hid behind the truck.

Kids: "Is she gone?"
Me: *creeps up* "Yes!"

We ran inside, grabbed everything we needed, then went to the (deserted) park. We were all alone, and had a wonderful time. Although, Mormon families kept pulling into their houses across the street, which was a bit awkward. We cooked elk steak, burgers, hot dogs, and had smores. Even though I cut out early, and my husband didn't even end up going to church, we had a great picnic.

A Funny Day at Church

We had kind of an out-of-the ordinary day at church today. While the talks and subjects weren't particularly memorable, everything that made us not pay attention was....

Today's speakers were all women, because of the new Young Women's leaders. The moment they started to speak, the bishop fell asleep and all the old men broke out their books and started reading instead of paying attention. Jerkoffs. Sorry - that's just rude.

We had three speakers, and every one of them cried. Like, almost indecipherable wailing. The first girl didn't even divert her eyes as she reached over to the tissue box. The other two felt it necessary to dig into their nose with the tissues. Ew.

In sacrament we were starving. A Samoan woman got up to talk, and she made us want Hawaiian BBQ really bad. (I'm not being racist, she just reminds me of a lady that worked at a Hawaiian BBQ.) I couldn't even focus because I wanted spam musubi so bad. Then in Sunday School we were talking about the book of Jacob and the allegorical story of the olive branch. I said "Mmmm, olives..." And my husband followed up with, "Oooh. Olive Garden sounds so good." THIS is why you should eat before church.

Our Sunday School room is directly underneath the primary room. We can hear the piano just as well as if it were sitting right in front of us. Not to mention the thunderous roar of little footsteps and shuffling chairs. They sang "I Am a Child of God" FIVE times in one hour. I don't even know what to say about this.

I looked over at my husband and he was staring off into space, mouth gaping open and eyes wide. I couldn't help but laugh out loud, then quietly ask him what the heck he was doing. He said, and I quote, "Oh. I was thinking of a way to Jackie Chan myself out of a situation. I was fighting the guys, and coming up with moves to kick their ass. But somehow I end up dying in the end anyway."

We are going to be getting temple prep classes from an older couple at church, and the Bishop introduced us after sacrament. I reached out my hand to introduce myself, and Mr. Eggbert shook it lightly and said, "I need to talk to your husband..." and almost flung me out of the way by my arm. I stood about three feet away, feeling very insulted. He then asked if my husband would say a prayer in church next week. I thought, "Ha Ha!" Then he turned to me and said, "And after that, it's your turn." These are going to be some interesting temple prep classes.

Ah good times.

Mormon Church Cliques

Sitting in church is much like sitting in a high school cafeteria. While the groups aren't allocated by geography, one can generally decipher which Mormon Clique they belong to. Of course this varies by ward, but you get the point.


1. The RM

Return Missionaries can often be identified easily as they still have "leftovers" from their mission. Leftover suits, shoes, haircuts, bibles, etc... They are often enthusiastic about the gospel, reverent, and exceedingly haughty at times. They also have wandering eyes, and tend to flirt.

2. The Convert

Also an enthusiastic bunch. Their prayers tend to be more unique, and sometimes strange. They get funny looks on their face when certain lingo is used, like “CES.” They REALLY pay attention in Sacrament and love Fast and Testimony. They haven’t quite mastered quick scripture lookup or taking the water gracefully.

3. The SAHM

This is the “Stay at Home Mom.” Quite a popular group. They can usually be found in the hallway or in the back of the church with a child on their hip speaking with other SAHMs. Can’t really pay attention due to the amount of unruly children they try to keep at bay. They often do more church activities on days other than Sunday, perhaps to make up for lost time.

4. The Overly Worthy Priesthood Holder

This guy could be mistaken for a missionary if it weren’t for his age, or the children attached to his ankles. He’s often quite attentive or out in the hallway holding the children, as to allow his wife to listen to sacrament. He’s outspoken in Sunday School and Priesthood, and is kind to everyone in the ward. The bishop is usually (hopefully) part of this group.

5. The "Elder"ly

Most often found asleep, this group tends to be those over the age of 70. They’ve been going to church so long that it seems they’ve heard it all. While they’re often inspiring to family members, their talks can get long and off-topic. They’re intelligent about the gospel, and can answer almost any question, although they tend to stick to the “old ways” and don’t like change.

6. The Disgruntled Teen

Usually dressed in trendy outfits, these teens are always on the fashion forefront but feel the way about church much like other children do. They are annoyed at three hours of God talk, and by members of these other various groups. They DO believe in the gospel, and can recite their testimony almost as naturally as chewing a bite of food – without thinking. But the glum, somewhat defeated look on their faces suggests otherwise.

7. The Enthusiastic Teen

The one that has had nothing but positive experience thus far, and are always involved, paying attention, and perfectly adhering to the Word of Wisdom. Their ultimate dreams are to attend BYU, get married/go on a mission, and have children. They are heavily equipped with highlighters and extra reading material, and take notes like they’re practicing for the SAT.

8. The Intellectual

These people often “look” like they are paying attention in church, but are really gazing at the speaker and thinking of something else entirely. They generally think that if they stare in the podium’s direction, that no one is aware of what they are doing. Perhaps they’re thinking of our dependence on foreign oil, perhaps the architecture of the building, perhaps the ingredients of tonight’s dinner – whatever it is, it ain’t about God.

9. The Questionable Couple

This is the guy that comes to church with his salmon colored shirt wrinkly and un-tucked, his navy blue pants three inches too short, and a bow tie. His wife is wearing orange fishnet tights, silver shoes, and a neon green dress. Okay, maybe you’ve never seen them – but they are in my ward and I think they might be from another planet altogether. We must have some good missionaries out on Mars.

Our New Ward

So, on Easter Sunday my husband and I attended our new ward for the first time. In our meeting with the bishop, he referred to it as a "Newlywed, Nearly Dead" ward, which in our findings was eerily accurate.

Rows and rows of white hair, interspersed with screaming babies and children running loose in the aisle ways. One dad in particular was keeping his son at bay by holding onto his overall straps. Four or five mothers and three fathers stood in the back of the church, comforting their babies. My husband couldn’t pay attention to save his life – so he kept whispering to me and fiddling with my hand. In front of us were our neighbors, whom we had only met once. Of course in our desperate attempts to make friends, we were excited when they began talking to us after sacrament.

Sunday school was actually intriguing, as I learned more about the inner workings of our new ward. It seems our ward is slightly dysfunctional, with rumor mills, inactive members/people who leave after sacrament, and a slight separation of “class.” I figure we will fit in just fine. The Sunday school teacher expressed dismay at the “rich” people who live in the nicer houses in the new subdivisions, and how the “good” people are the meek ones who live – where she does. I think she said this not realizing that half the ward lives in these “rich” suburbs. Her statement got chuckles from two women sitting in front of us, who undoubtedly are married to doctors, and live in these forsaken places.

I know why they call it “Relief Society.” What a better way to escape children and husbands than to talk about God and crop night. I sat down in a corner alone, hoping someone would sit by me. Someone younger than say, eighty. All the ladies sat together chatting front and center. A young, pretty, smiley mom introduced herself as the RS president. The two younger women from Sunday school entered and made a beeline for me. They were blonde, pretty, and held babies on their hips. As the meeting began, I looked around and noticed I was the only person in the room who isn’t a mom. The girls who were pregnant or holding babies sat on one side, and the older ladies on the other.

This week is going to be interesting. During the last two meetings, we were introduced as the “new” people, and were asked where we live. Without thinking, we blurted out our address. I expect they will be showing up around 7pm every night this week.

Amen, Sista

My 13 year old niece began commenting on how much she hated church. She said, "Why does it have to be SO boring? Why can't we just stand up and clap and sing like the black people do?" My husband sat in silent defeat, saddened that she doesn't find as much joy in scripture reading and acting reverent as he does. I replied, "Well, some people find that being reverent in church is what God wants us to do. It depends on who you are. If it were up to me, I think we would have a little bit more fun in church."

I thought she made a good point. Church is SO boring sometimes, depending on what ward you're in. I challenge everyone to make their talk INTERESTING, and have a little charisma when you are up there. It's not that hard, and God will commend you for making people pay attention. Even the most righteous priesthood holders fall asleep in church. God isn't a boring guy. He created us in his own image, so if we are bored chances are that he's gone over to the "black people" church to hang out. I would.

Mormon Church is Like a Bar...or Daycare...

Church has recently become my only source of social contact. I am married without kids (so far) and we literally have no friends. We live in a town that has either white collar Mormons or blue collar hillbillys. So as you may have guessed, the only place to make friends is either church, a truck stop, or a bar. I remember the singles ward being just like a bar - only the drinks are a different kind of "spirited." Awkwardly looking at someone from across the room, talking casually for a bit, then instead of getting some ass in the end we just get engaged. The analogy changes a bit after you transfer over into the married student or family ward. Bar:Singles Ward as Daycare:Married Wards.

I always hated that about sacrament meeting. There's nothing that makes me want to burn down the church half-way through sacrament like thirty seven screaming babies and their parents who won't dimiss themselves to the hallway. Like if they miss one second of a talk to comfort their child, they are going to hell. Primary needs to be the full three hours so that the rest of us can actually pay attention (or at least daydream/sleep in peace.) There is one difference between the married student wards and the family wards - the age of the children. Instead of having kids that are 13, 10, 7, 5, and 3 you get a 3 year old, a 1 year old, an infant, and a fetus. I have never in my life seen so many pregnant people outside a prenatal yoga class in my life than I have seen in the married student ward. If you go to a school that is predominatley LDS, well you can only guess how many classes women skip for morning sickness. It's a wonder that they even graduate. Don't get me wrong though, even though I have graduated college, I still always wanted to be pregnant during that time. (Like it was SO long ago...two months today to be exact.) Anyway, I think that being pregnant, having kids, and everything else that comes with it is going to be awesome. But when I am sitting in church and my little shits start yelling at the top of their lungs you better believe I will lock them in the car. (Just kidding, don't make any phone calls.)