Windy Sydney

The following is something I shared with my friends on PostMormon.org yesterday. The response to the post really helped me, and I thought I would post it on the blog as well... for those who happen to be TBM and read this blog, you might assume that this is the reason I left the church. That would be an incorrect assumption. I left due to racism, sexism, and countless other *isms* This is just one story.

The Mormon Temple In Manti, Utah

This is kind of hard for me to talk about, and very personal... so please bear with me...

In August of 1997 my Dad had been diagnosed with thyroid cancer and doctors gave him 3 days to live in the beginning. It was actually the day before Princess Diana died in Paris, France. The whole thing felt surreal. He fought like hell, and never gave up. My Mom learned how to help him with the feeding tubes and the trach that helped him breathe. She sat with him and planned his funeral and held his hand when he was scared. She was there for him, and she showed me what it was like to truly be a good person.

Before my Mom and Dad told my brother and I that Dad's cancer was terminal, I went to stay with my Dad's sister to get information for college. My parents told her that Brother and I didn't know that he was going to die, and to not mention it. He wanted me home safe before I had the information, and there was a long drive between dear Auntie's house and home. He didn't want me too emotional on the road. He was worried about me just as much as I was worried about him.

The first night at my relatives home, I was helping prepare dinner. We were making french bread pizza (I remember every single detail, down to the Christmas garland on the stairs and the too-perfect Christmas tree,) and she waited for everyone to gather in the dining room. She smiled and told everyone how sad it was that my Dad wasn't going to make it. She knew I didn't know... she knew my Mom and Dad wanted to tell me... she just wanted to be in control of the moment. My Mom will probably tell you that she has SERIOUS control issues. I played it off, pretended that I knew, played the part in a made-for-television movie... and I truly believe she was disappointed that I didn't cry for her. I did cry, I just didn't let her see it.

Her husband wasn't home yet, and when he came home the his kids were noticeably excited. He promised me a drive through the town so I could "see the sights..." and the kids were happy to be out of the house. He seemed like a good guy, almost child-like in a way. He didn't seem like a mature man or grown-up.

I eventually went home and told my Mom (on a walk) what happened. My Mom was very upset, and she apologized that I had to hear it that way. My Dad couldn't speak, so he wrote me a letter telling me he was sorry about it too, and that what Auntie Did was wrong. Nothing really mattered for a while.

When my Dad passed away, my Mom was understandably brokenhearted. She was raised in an extremely strict Mormon household, and felt the only way to she my Dad again was to become active again and do the temple work. I was never interested in going back to church because I had too many issues with it, but she knew I was behind her no matter what. Mom made it clear to everyone, on both sides of the family, that she was going to do this work herself.

In March of 1998 (or close to that time) Mom received a phone call from one of my Dad's siblings. They (including the very TBM aunt and uncle mentioned above) were doing Dad's temple work in Manti, and they wanted us there. Mom felt like she had been slapped in the face, but stayed strong. She wanted my brother and I to be there with her at the temple when the ceremony took place, even though we would all have to wait outside in the heat. Brother and I did that, and I will admit, I wasn't happy about it one bit... it pissed me off.

I couldn't help but feel judged not only by my Dad's side of the family, but by the very church they promised was true. They didn't know me at all! I hadn't even smoked a cigarette in my life, never hurt anyone... never shot a man just to see him die. How to they know I am not good enough to be in there?

Well, we endured. We babysat the countless number of cousins along with one lonely aunt who had left the church a long time ago and married a never-Mo. She was always very sweet to me, and a friend. She rocked.

Finally, the family members walk out of the temple and down the street where everyone had parked their cars. They had huge smiles on their faces, and promised that they "knew" my Dad was going to accept the gospel. It pissed me off, because I didn't buy it. I was angry for a very, very long time. They didn't know me, OR my father. They had no idea what he would want or what he would accept. They just wanted to make their experience more faith-promoting. It made me sick.

I eventually moved to Orlando, and one night my Mom gave me a call. She said, "Sydney... you will never guess what!?!" She went on to tell me that Mr. TBM uncle was not only a heroin addict, but had also been seeing prostitutes. Mean Aunt was leaving him, but the kids were on his side. They felt she was too controlling, and some of the kids were in state custody because they didn't want to live with her without their Dad being there. I was in SHOCK! They were so goody-two-shoes, perfect family, everything in it's place... it came out of nowhere to me.... and then it hit me. This guy was probably high on heroin while he was in the temple, and I was outside waiting like some chump!

Where was the gift of discernment here? I have heard story after story of some priesthood holder feeling a presence of someone who isn't worthy, and stops the ceremony until that person leaves. Why did my Aunt and Uncle even have temple recommends? They were obviously not very honest people!? Shouldn't the bishop's discernment have kicked in somewhere??

I know the power of discernment is stupid and it doesn't exist. When I asked a Mormon missionary on LDS.org about this, the only thing they would say was, "Gee I hope your Uncle is in treatment and feeling better soon."

Has anyone else had thoughts about the power of discernment, either at the temple or not? Why can't people see this for what it is? A Hoax!?!?!?