Late Sunday night my sister and her family stopped by. They were headed back from a family outing, and since they were close, thought it would be good to stop in and see us. As we were sitting in the living room chatting with them, my daugher whispered to me, “Have you told them you were released?” I shook my head, but then started thinking about it. Why not tell them that I was released? I didn’t have to go into the whole backstory; I could just say that I no longer held the calling that I had held previously. That’s a fairly common occurence in the Mormon church. You get callings, and you are released from callings. Totally normal. Nothing to be afraid of. I could say I was released without saying that I no longer believed.
So as I was talking to my sister a little later, there was a lull in the conversation, and so I said, just as casually as I could muster, “Oh, I was released from the bishopric today.” Continue reading
I went to church today. I’m not sure if I would have gone or not, except my children invited me. It was Father’s Day, and my little ones wanted me to be there to listen to them sing a few songs about how much they loved their father. I agreed that it was a good day to attend church.
I also knew that today was the day that I was going to be officially released from my calling as a member of the bishopric. I had mixed feelings about being there for that. I wanted to be there, and I also didn’t really care about being there and would just as soon have stayed home. But my ambivalence was no match for my children’s request. So I went. Continue reading
I’ve realized something interesting lately. You don’t know me. I know, I know. Brilliant, huh? But beyond the mere anonymity of this blog, it’s quite probable that you really don’t understand where I’m coming from. Continue reading
Yesterday I got home from work and the first thing Wife said to me was, “How did you like her haircut?” I didn’t fully hear the question, and thought maybe she was asking how I liked Wife’s haircut, so I stood there for a second looking at her and finally, not seeing anything different, realized maybe she was talking about Daughter. “Whose?” I asked. “Don’t tell me you didn’t see it. How did you like it?” Confused, I again asked, “Whose?” She again replied, “I know you saw it. She probably sent you a picture.” I asked, “Who?” and she said, “You really didn’t see it? She cut it all off. As short as a boy’s haircut.” I said, “Are you talking about Girlfriend?” And she said, “Yes. Are you telling me the truth? She didn’t send you a picture?”
That’s the problem with not being completely honest. Now she doesn’t know whether to believe me. “I haven’t had any communication with her since Saturday. She hasn’t sent me anything.” Continue reading
I’m a Mormon. That is, I am a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I could go into detail, but suffice it to say that there are various levels of participation of members in the church, and I have never understood why someone wouldn’t participate as fully as possible. My current calling is as a counselor in the bishopric. I’m at church every Sunday. Meetings start at 9am, and I’m usually done at around 5pm. With responsibilities over the youth programs, I’m also at church almost every Wednesday evening.
I skipped church this Sunday. I don’t know when was the last time I did that. As a teenager, I guess, when I skipped by default because my family skipped. I’ve been sick a few Sundays and stayed home. I’ve gone out of town a few Sundays and didn’t always make it to church because of travel arrangements. But this is the first Sunday I skipped. I did it on the counsel of my bishop. Continue reading