LDS – mom's musings

A Simple Message

Joining the LDS church 32 years ago was a big decision, not one that I considered lightly. I knew that if I converted to what many call “Mormonism,” there would be some backlash and downright discomfort on the part of many. And yet, I knew what I knew with my head and felt what I felt with my spirit and heart. How could I deny such a force?

I said yes and have never looked back.

Today in church I pondered for the umpteenth time what it is that’s so off-putting about Mormonism. Is it because it’s strange and peculiar for those in the Bible belt? Are its precepts and guidelines too demanding? Is the way too straight? It could be that many (most?) people don’t believe there can be prophets on the earth today.

Now Moses…that was a man, a prophet with name recognition and credibility, one who saw God face-to-face and who gave us the Ten Commandments. Even people who don’t live by these directives give lip service to their usefulness and credit to the prophet who wrote them on stone.

And of course Moses isn’t the only one. To name a few, there are Joshua, Isaiah, Samuel, Jeremiah, and John the Baptist. If I’m mentioning Moses, then I must include his sister Miriam who has long been accepted as a prophetess. And there’s Anna, an elderly New Testament prophetess who instantly recognized the Messiah though he was but a babe.

But what 2015? Doesn’t it make sense that the world is in need of prophets today, ones that understand current issues and challenges? Pornography, drug addiction, gender issues (and transgender ones), mass killings, broken homes, hungry children, homelessness, and a myriad of other contemporary problems plague our society. Couldn’t this ol’ world benefit from the words of a prophet?

I think yes. That’s where Thomas S. Monson, President and Prophet of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, comes in. His message is simple. Love one another. Follow the example of the Savior.

Here are some of his words I used in a lesson this morning: “Love should be the heart of family life, and yet sometimes it is not. There can be too much impatience, too much arguing, too many fights, too many tears. I would hope that we could strive always to be considerate and to be sensitive to the thoughts and feelings and circumstances of those around us. Let us not demean or belittle Rather, let us be compassionate and encouraging. We must be careful that we do now destroy another person’s confidence through careless words or actions.”

I’m not trying to stir up contention. I’m a lover, not a fighter. It’s just that as I consider the recent horror that took place in Charleston, I’m reminded that love is the answer to every question. Rich or poor, black or white, American or Haitian, we are all children of the same Creator. He loves us all and expects us to do the same. After telling us to love our neighbors as ourselves, Christ remarks that there is no greater commandment.

President Monson says we cannot truly love God if we do not love our fellow travelers on this mortal journey, and I concur. I want to be a forgiving, compassionate, turn-the-other-cheek type of gal, and that’s the kind of instruction I pretty much always get at church.

Ask an Expert

If this post seems underdeveloped or unpolished, blame it on Gretchen Rubin, author of The Happiness Project. I read that book about a year ago, and today I discovered her podcast, Happier, that she and her sister Elizabeth have started.

When describing the one coin loophole, the sisters said that if a person does something rarely, then she feels like it has to be top quality. If, on the other hand, she does it often, that takes the pressure off and she can live with “pretty good” when something is a little lame.

That’s so true of me, I thought. I have dozens of things I want to write about, but being involved in several projects has decreased my blogging time. When I finally do have thirty minutes to an hour to put something together, I feel the pressure to make it (the post) good. Tonight, however, I’m remembering Gretchen’s (first name basis here) mention of Voltaire’s aphorism: “The perfect is the enemy of the good.”

Tonight I’m taking the advice of the Happier podcast.

While in the beauty shop the other day, I recognized a woman who works for a local optometrist. Making small talk, I told her that I had always been impressed with her ability to put contacts in my eyes without my even knowing she had done it. She’s that good!

“Make sure the tip of your finger is dry,” she said, “and put a small drop of solution on the contact itself. Just a drop.”

Later that same day I met with a young woman who knows all about chalk painting. She’s done (painted, waxed, distressed) dozens of pieces and is now teaching classes in which she demonstrates techniques using Annie Sloan products.

“I’m doing a side table,” I told her. “And it seems somehow ‘not right’ to use wax on the top.”

“Will it get a lot of use? I mean, are people going to put drinks or food on it?” she asked

“Maybe. I can just visualize kids putting all kinds of things on it. Stresses me out to think about!”

“Okay, here’s what you do. Put a coat of clear poly on the top.”

“That’s it?”

“Yep. That’ll protect it and give it some sheen.”

Today I went to Lowe’s to buy some tile. I must have looked lost and confused because an employee walked over to see if she could help. When I told her my plans, she told me exactly what I’d need and explained why I needed this and not that with several products. After learning that I’d be putting this backsplash up all by my lonesome, she explained the process twice and then suggested that I get a trowel.

Everybody knows something. Everybody is likely an expert on something. BUT no one knows everything. Let’s respect the knowledge of the experts.

All this is leading up to a recent discussion about the Mormon church—or as we prefer to say, “The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.” People often inform me of some pretty outrageous things, including:

Mormons aren’t Christians.
Mormons practice polygamy.
Mormons don’t believe in the Bible.
Mormons wear magic underwear.
Mormons think they can work their way into heaven.
Mormons worship Joseph Smith.

None of those things are true. My purpose here isn’t to go into a long diatribe about what we do or don’t believe. My purpose is to say that unless you’re a member, you don’t really know what we do or don’t believe.

If I want to know something about putting in contacts, chalk painting furniture, or installing a backsplash, I’ll ask someone with knowledge in those areas. The same is true for religion. If I want to know something about the Catholic religion, I’ll ask a Catholic. If I want to know about Islam, I’ll ask a Muslim.

If you want to know something about the LDS religion, ask me. In the meantime, when I hear you saying something untrue, unfounded, or derogatory about the church, I’ll be thinking, “I love you, but you don’t know what you’re talking about.” That’s a line from Moonrise Kingdom, something an orphan told his sweet little girlfriend after she told him that sometimes she wanted to be an orphan.

While this isn’t my best post ever, I’m glad I took the advice from the Happier podcast. Saving up thoughts and refusing to share them until I could do so perfectly and eloquently might prevent their ever being shared. And really, I’m feeling happier now, just like the experts on happiness said I would be.

Hospital for Sinners

I’m looking forward to going to church today. Boy, do I need it! Whoever said it was a hospital for sinners and not a museum for saints nailed it. I go, not because I’m a Miss Goody Two Shoes, but because I need help remembering and applying all the things I need to do to feel peace…and to live a happy and effective life. There’s often a difference between what He says for us to do and what I actually do, and attending church with like-minded individuals helps me to try a little harder.

He says to love one another. We love those who are most like us, those of a similar social class, religious affiliation, race, and ethnicity. If someone is a Hindu, Jew, or Greek Orthodox, and we are Christians, well, you know what I’m saying. Woe unto those people for being so ill informed and heathen. I seriously do not have a problem with this one, but I have seen it over and over and over again in other Christians. If anyone reading this ever sees me demonstrating (by word or deed) intolerance or prejudice, please call me out on it.

And about that love thing, we often find it easier to love those who love us. If someone ignores us, hurts our feelings, or fails to appreciate us, then that person must have a problem! He or she is therefore unworthy of our love. To take that a step further, some people are so busy loving one another outside of their own homes that they have very little left to offer their own families. I’ve been guilty of this.

He also says to forgive one another. Seventy times seven and all that. But that’s hard to do. In fact, it’s evidently so hard that a member of our bishopric in Camden gave a talk about it last Sunday. Brother Adams reminded us to be humble, meek, and lowly of heart, and among several other scriptures, read Matthew 6: 14-15:

For if ye forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you: But if ye forgive not men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.

That’s scary stuff! If we don’t forgive, then neither will He.

And how can anyone who knows anything at all about Christ remember His betrayal in the garden and his words from the cross? “Father forgive them.” If I had been in His position, I definitely would not have been so benevolent. But I’m trying. Just about anyone who knows me has heard me say that the combination of religion and psychology have saved my life (figuratively) many times.

I’m reminded of David A. Bednar’s statement that we choose to be offended. It’s a personal choice. As a person who loves cognitive psychology, I can see the truth in that. For my own mental and emotional health, I choose to turn the other cheek, to give people the benefit of the doubt, and not to take things personally. Not doing so is like eating rat poison and waiting for the rat to die. Crazy, huh? And yet, I’ve been there, done that. It’s no fun.

I’m wondering how many stories there are in the scriptures about love and forgiveness. Christ and his mistreatment and suffering top the list. Then there are the prodigal son, Joseph and his brothers, and Jacob and Esau. And yet, sometimes we look right over these and other stories and think they are for OTHER PEOPLE. As most intro psychology students can tell you, we just don’t see ourselves the way we really are. It’s a protective mechanism.

No rat poison for this gal. I refuse to be offended and plan to look for the good in everyone I meet–and to try to love them in the best way I can. That doesn’t mean taking them in to raise. It means “in the best way I can.”

Waiting for the Rat to Die

When I was a young mother and had to miss church for some reason or another I always felt a tinge of remorse. My mother would often say, “The church isn’t going to fall down if you miss one Sunday, Jaynie.”

I knew that. And truthfully, I wasn’t worried about the church. I was worried about good old Jaynie. I needed help and guidance and support. And I needed to feel the love that was there. I didn’t want to fall down.

I remembered that conversation a week or so ago when I went to church despite being stressed out with preparation for a family reunion. Laugh if you want to, but for me, food preparation on that level is a stretch. Plus, because of the time of the reunion, I knew I’d have to leave right after Sacrament, and I found myself wondering, “Is it really worth it to get dressed and hustle to the church for only an hour?”

I went. And as soon as I walked in the back door from the parking lot, I felt peace. I slid in beside my former mother-in-law who told me she had been saving a seat for me. While that wasn’t exactly true, her statement made me feel good and happy and all of those other positive emotions. While we were singing the opening hymn, I remembered something I had read years ago.

If you make the effort to listen, the Spirit will speak to you. It might not even be about what the speaker is saying. But you’ll know it. You’ll get the message.

So we were singing “In Humility Our Savior,” and when we got to the second verse, I got choked up on these beautiful phrase “Fill our hearts with sweet forgiving, teach us tolerance and love.” Some specific situations were on my mind, and I thought “YES!” How could I convey the importance of this forgiveness, tolerance, and love to others without being a know-it-all self-righteous prig?

And then I was sitting there minding my own business when the thought “seventy times seven” popped into my head. I don’t think I’m holding on to grudges right now, but some people are. Let it go. Harboring feelings of unforgiveness and resentment are like eating rat poison and waiting for the rat to die. I didn’t make that phrase up, but I like it.

I looked around me and saw all sorts of people. Big ones, small ones, rich ones, poor ones, black ones, white ones, brown ones, pink ones. Lots of variety. I thought of a friend who teaches at BYU-Hawaii who once mentioned that most of the women wear flip flops to church. She said many of the teachers kick them off while teaching and teach barefoot. I smiled to myself and thought, “He’s got the whole world in his hands.” The whole world, not just the select few who happen to look like you and mirror your background.

That was the first Sunday in June. I’ve had a lot of interesting insights sitting in church since then too, especially about love. What about you?

Sam’s Line

“I love you but you don’t know what you’re talking about.” That’s a line from one of my favorite movies, and I’m using it to follow through with a WordPress writing prompt: Take a quote from your favorite movie — there’s the title of your post. Now, write!

Yesterday my daughter Carrie shared a blog on Facebook about pit bulls and how they are often unfairly maligned. In this post, a 4-year-old child had been attacked by a pit bull and will be permanently disfigured because of the assault. I couldn’t bear to look at the picture of him. Too heartbreaking. Animal lovers are raising money for the dog’s defense (I guess he has a lawyer) while meanwhile this child, Kevin, has to breathe and eat through a tube.

Don’t even bother telling me that the child’s mother should have been watching him more carefully or that pit bulls are normally adorable. I’m close-minded on this one and would say without hesitation, “I love you, but you don’t know what you’re talking about.” In Moonrise Kingdom, that’s what Sam says to Suzy after she tells him that sometimes she wishes she had been an orphan.

Sam and Suzy are running away together, and at some point they even manage to get married before her parents, Social Services, the town police force (Bruce Willis), and the Boy Scout leaders find them. Sam’s parents are deceased, and he had been living in a foster home and knew firsthand how difficult being an orphan could be.

I love the quote because it applies to so many circumstances in life. Below are several examples of things I hear and read on a frequent basis:

Mormons aren’t Christians. “I love you, but you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Homosexuals are going to hell. “I love you, but you don’t know what you’re….” As an aside, I just have to share something I realized yesterday. Jesus said this about homosexuality: NOTHING. Interesting, huh?

Southerners are illiterate bumpkins. “I love you, but you don’t know….”

God loves the believers (American Christians) more than he does the Hindus, Jews, or Muslims. “I love you, but….”

Mormonism is a cult. “I love you.”

Here’s what Mormons believe. Whether black, white, red, yellow, polka dotted, rich, poor, Buddhist, dull, clever, beach bum, Bedouin, gay, strong, or weak, we’re all brothers and sisters of the same Heavenly Father who loves us all.

And about those pit bulls, they’re dangerous.

So if you and I are having a conversation, and I’m smiling sweetly at something you’re saying but am not speaking, it’s because I’m thinking, “I love you, but you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Melting Butter?

Are you using your gifts to melt butter? That’s a question that I’ve been considering ever since I attended Time Out for Women last month.

At the conference, Sheri Dew told a story about her grandmother whose relatives bought her a nice microwave. This was a long time ago when microwaves were much more expensive than they are today, and the children and grandchildren wanted to make sure that Grandma was enjoying the newest contraption. They were quite surprised to learn that she was using it to melt butter. Period.

Using her gift for turning all sorts of stories into applications for our lives, Sheri Dew suggested that many people do just that: Use their unique talents to melt butter when they are capable of doing so much more. I know dozens of people who could prepare feasts (metaphorically speaking) but are stuck in the melting butter stage. Are you one of them?

I’m thinking of a friend of mine in Myrtle Beach who has a phenomenal musical talent. When younger and in the busy stage of raising children, she didn’t have time or opportunity to put this tremendous musical gift to use. However, she began playing the organ at church and would practice, practice, practice. Her aptitude grew, and she began playing the drums. Over the years, she has become a musical virtuoso (in my opinion).

My musical friend not only plays in a lot of gigs, but she’s also teaching her young grandson how to play percussion instruments. He’s got the gift too! When I see videos of this little child playing, I can’t help but notice all of the equipment around him. When I first met his grandmother, she didn’t have any of that, but with persistence, dedication, and the strong desire to make things happen, she purchased all the necessary pieces. She never gave up her dream or let her gifts lay fallow.

My friend the musician is doing a lot more than melting butter. What about you? Are there some things you want to do but can’t or won’t? Is it because you can’t see the possibilities, or is there some other reason? It’s a shame to let a marvelous creation, whether a microwave or a person, stop at melting butter.

Five Letter Word

A week has passed since my last post, the one that announced that a word of the year would be forthcoming. I’ve considered several words over the past several weeks, and I was this close to stealing (sharing) Connie’s word, mindfulness. Heaven knows that would be a great one for me. With all of the busyness and coming and going and distractions of life, well, you get my drift.

One day last week, as I prepared to go out for my daily walk, I couldn’t find a pair of ear buds. It was almost more than I could handle. How was I supposed to stay in motion for an hour without my music or NPR? Then my husband suggested that I just listen to the birds or cars or something. And what a novel idea! I was forced to go back to listening to the world around me and letting my mind wander. It was a splendid hour of mindfulness. Actually, I’ve tried to do that quite a bit this past year. I seldom get annoyed at the sounds of crying babies, coughing, or throat clearing in church anymore. Those are the sounds of life itself.

But back to my word. I thought of peace, both inner and outer, but that’s something I pretty much always work on. Then my husband suggested that I recycle focus, my word for 2012. But no, I discarded that idea right away, knowing that focus is something that I’m going to have to work on for the rest of my life, but with a new year, I needed a new word. After several more options, I chose my word. It’s not fancy or deep or especially inspiring. And actually, it’s a word that conveys one of my overall attitudes toward life. It’s just that this year, I’m going to use it to direct my behavior in a more focused way.

Learn. Learn is my word. I’m fascinated by all there is to learn about in this grand world and daunted by the fact that I know so little. Over the holidays, we saw Lincoln and Les Miserables, and those movies inspired me to learn more about American history, Lincoln, Mrs. Lincoln, the French Revolution, and the French language. About the latter, I took French in college, but now I’m thinking of refreshing some key terms. It’s not enough to know oui, oui.

The other evening as I was pondering about half a dozen words, a scripture from the Doctrine and Covenants, one of the four standard works of the LDS church, kept coming to mind. Here it is, a verse about things that we need to understand: “Of things both in heaven and in the earth, and under the earth; things which have been, things which are, things which must shortly come to pass; things which are at home, things which are abroad; the wars and perplexities of the nations, and the judgments which are on the land; and a knowledge also of countries and of kingdoms.” D & C 88:79

My friend Judy and I discussed “things both in heaven and in the earth” a little last week. How little I know about either realm! In 2013, however, I plan to gain some more knowledge about both. With LEARN as my word, the sky’s the limit!

Confessions and Revelations

Confession: My friends and I aren’t perfect. Revelation: Neither are you!

A facebook post from my friend Connie has motivated me to say a few things that have been on my mind and in my heart lately. She and I attend the same church and see eye-to-eye on most (maybe all) things spiritual. She’s a “sister” who, like me, does her dead level best to be kind, honest, caring, giving, and all those other positive things that we’re supposed to do. We turn the other cheek, work on being nonjudgmental, love our families, attend most church meetings, pay our tithing, and even visit sick people in the hospital.

Connie and I often laugh and joke at where we’d be and what kind of lives we’d be living without what we refer to as “the gospel” in our lives. It’s only a skip and a hop to pondering the same thing about our friends and acquaintances who are apparently farther along the path of enlightenment than we are…or so it would seem from the outside looking in.

But are things always the way they seem? I know folks who darken the church doorway more frequently than I probably do, but they’re judgmental, unforgiving, and rumor mongering (always wanted to use that term). Others are pessimistic beyond belief although throughout the scriptures we’re told to be of good cheer. They worry incessantly about tomorrow despite the frequent Biblical instruction to have faith. Remember the tiny sparrow?

And then there are those who could spout off the 10 Commandments like nobody’s business, but they put possessions and “other gods” before God, take His name in vain, and/or treat their parents abysmally. And let’s don’t forget those who think keeping the Sabbath holy means going out to eat after church and sleeping the afternoon away. Don’t even bother responding to this by telling me that going out to eat as a family keeps unity going AND helps insure that those working in restaurants have jobs. (As an aside, I’ve been known to do all of the above.)

Here’s the difference between Connie and me and “those other people.” We KNOW that we aren’t perfect, and we don’t need anyone to tell us that or to remind us of the shoulds and should nots. We know them, and we’re trying to incorporate them into our lives as best as we can. All of us are in different spots in our spiritual progression.

Time to bring this to a close. Here’s what I know: LOVE is the word. As I write this, I can’t help but think of my former mother-in-law and the many acts of love and compassion that I’ve seen her perform. This afternoon, I’m thinking specifically of how she’d often leave church early to go home and put the finishing touches on a scrumptious meal for her family. Lots of mothers do that; I used to too (although my children might take issue with the scrumptious part).

Here’s what set her apart from me and the other mothers. Before any family members partook of the Sunday feast, she fixed a plate of goodies for a “shut-in” neighbor and sent it over by one of her sons. Did she leave church early? Yes. Did anyone at church have anything to say about it? Yes. Did she show love? Yes. Did you?

Here’s my goal as found in Micah 6:8. I rediscovered this scripture after reading Same Kind of Different as Me. “And what doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God?”

Sisterly Thoughts

Sometimes people look at me a little curiously when they discover that I’m LDS. And no, it’s not my imagination. I’m a pretty intuitive person and can pick up vibes, both positive and negative. That’s a topic for another day, however. This evening I just want to share a little something about one of the major reasons that I love this church so much.

Are you ready? It’s my sisters. Truly, no matter where I am or what I’m doing or who I’m with, when I see a “sister,” I feel an immediate connection. I know that she knows and believes the same things that I do and that we speak the same language. I don’t have the time to go on and on about this today so I’m going to mention only one person, Lisa C, and her influence on my life. I chose the above picture becaue she’s artistic and likes to ride horses.

I don’t want to embarrass her, but she needs to know that these three incidents made a deep impression on me, on my soul.

When my grandson Seth was born last July, I had the privilege of being there when he made his entrance into the world. In fact, the doctor and I were the first ones to see him. Right away, I could see that he wasn’t the rosy color that I thought he would be. He didn’t seem to be moving very much either and appeared to be kind of flaccid.

My amateur impressions were correct, and right away the doctor signaled for the neonatal specialists to come in. If I recall correctly, three nurses came in and began working on the little fellow. What did I do? I stood looking at him, trying hard not to cry. My beautiful daughter kept asking, “What’s wrong? Why isn’t he crying? Is he breathing, Mama?”

“He’s fine,” I said. “Just fine.”

I began talking to him as gently and soothingly as possible. Although I can’t remember the exact words, I probably said some things like, “Hey, Sweet Boy. Do you hear me talking to you? This is Grandmama. How do you like being in this big old world so far? Huh? Come on now. Open your eyes so I can see them.”

I pretty much repeated the same ramblings over and over as the nurse competently cleared his lungs and throat. And then a miracle occurred. Seth opened his eyes and looked right into mine. Yes, I know babies don’t have 20/20 vision for several months and that he didn’t know me from the television hanging on the wall, but still….He looked at me for several seconds as I continued speaking in low, calming tones.

Months later, I told Lisa C about his birth and remarked that I liked thinking that I was the first person he saw when he opened his eyes and that he sensed my love for him. Without blinking an eye and with complete sincerity, she said, “You communicated spirit to spirit.” And you know what? We did. We absolutely did.

Here’s the second incident. One day in Relief Society, the women’s organization in our church, Lisa told a story about her daughter going to school. I can’t remember all the details, but it was probably one of the first days that her child went to middle school. Like every pre-teen in America, her daughter was a wee bit nervous about the situation.

There are a number of ways that a parent can handle a child’s apprehension about new things, but here’s what Lisa C did. She reminded her daughter that she was the daughter of a Heavenly Father who loved her very much and that she was a princess, the daughter of a king. That might sound corny to people who aren’t LDS, but I love that way of thinking. Lisa, her daughter, my daughters, and you and I are also of divine origin.

Okay, here’s the last scenario. Months ago, one of Lisa C’s young sons (I think he was 11 at the time) was speaking in Sacrament meeting, and he said how grateful he was for his mom. Here’s a paraphrase: “Moms are the ones who keep everything together. If it weren’t for them, we’d probably all be floating out in space somewhere.” He said this with the cutest smile ever, and I thought, “Wow, what a tribute!” If a child can stand in front of a congregation and say something like that, then the mother is doing something right!

There are probably some errors in the above paragraphs because I’m in a hurry to get to the grocery store (story of a woman’s life), but I wanted to share these thoughts about one of my sisters. Anyone with an open heart and mind can understand a little bit more clearly about why I love the LDS faith so much. It’s because of Lisa C and women all over the world who are just like her, women who speak my language.

She’s Not Fanatical

One of my writing friends and I had a great conversation yesterday, and among our many topics, children and parents and families came up. What’s the best way to raise chidren? Is divorce something that the parties involved ever completely recover from? We didn’t resolve all of the issues under discussion, but we did pretty much nail this one: The most important factor in raising responsible, mentally healthy children is L-O-V-E. Naturally, we talked about our own darling offspring, but we also talked about our own parents.

Today I’m missing my parents and yet feeling their influence at the same time. If that doesn’t make sense, read on, and maybe it will. This morning I’ve been thinking of a conversation that took place about 25 years ago between my father and another man:

“Is she the sister that’s a Mormon?” he asked my father.

Glancing in my direction (I hope with a smile), he replied, “Yep. That’s her.”

They were silent for a few moments and then my father added, “But she’s not fanatical about it.” Bless his heart!

That man knew his children well, and he respected all of our ideas and opinions although they were often different from his. Knowing that the four of us were endowed with different temperaments and tendencies, he and my mother allowed us to develop without too much interference. That’s not to say that we didn’t get a nudge or push in the right direction sometimes, but I don’t recall any of us ever being told that our ideas were stupid, off-the-mark, ill-formed, silly, or strange.

Back to the Mormon thing, sometimes I really really really miss my father because he was so non-judgmental. If I’d wanted to become a Buddhist or Hindu, he might have raised an eyebrow, but then again, he knew me well enough to know I wouldn’t do that. He knew that even though I loved to learn and explore and investigate, I’d probably never stray from the doctrines of Christianity.

And he was right. I’m a Christian, a follower of Christ, and I’m a Mormon. Why am I telling you this, especially since just about everyone who reads my blog already knows it? I’m telling you this because I’m beginning to feel like the “Mormon thing” might be making some of my friends uncomfortable around me lately, especially since Romney is likely to be the Republican nominee for President.

There’s no need to feel weird about me, Folks. As my open-minded father said, I’m not fanatical. Don’t get me wrong. I LOVE the teachings of the LDS religion, especially since they’re pretty much the same ones that my parents taught me, things like being kind, honest, and hardworking. At the same time, I’m not so zealous that I’m going to get all preachy and start pontificating on the perils of not seeing things my way.

All of the Mormons that I know adhere to 13 Articles of Faith, the 11th one being, “We claim the privilege of worshiping Almighty God according to the dictates of our own conscience, and allow all men the same privilege. Let them worship how, where, or what they may.”

So friends, there’s no need to feel uncomfortable about talking about Romney or Joseph Smith or polygamy around me. I’m at peace with the choices I’ve made in the religion department. Just don’t ask me to go out drinking with you or blow smoke in my face.