Windy Sydney

I had a dream last night that I was walking around temple square in Salt Lake City with my Dad (who passed away from cancer in 1998). Dad wasn't religious at all, and that is what made the whole dream even weirder... I guess it was just one of those things. I have always had dreams with my loved ones who have passed away.

A couple years ago, if I had this same dream, I would be jumping up and down because my Dad came to visit me in a dream. I used to think that they were really reaching out to me and trying to communicate with me or give me a message. Now? Not so much.

Church dreams usually piss me off. Probably because I never remember the whole dream and I start obsessing about what happened. This leads to more thinking about the church, it's doctrines and how much it really fucked with my head.

Sometimes I feel like I have been able to put the church thing behind me, other times I get just as angry as I did when I found out the truth for the first time. Is it something I can get over? Maybe. I think it would be easier if my family members didn't assume the worst of me all the time, dropping not-so-subtle hints about going to church or saying a prayer, giving me the evil eye every time they see a coffee mug in my hand... you get the idea.

When I started learning the truth, I was really mad. I was mad that I was lied to. I wanted to drive to Salt Lake City and demand answers from the men in white shirts. I wanted to scream from the balcony of a hotel...

"They are lying!!! Lying!!"


Of course that would have been counterproductive and I would have ended up in jail :) So, I started WindySydney instead, starting out as an anonymous person questioning Mormonism in the heart of LDS Country. I am glad I did. It's great therapy.

The truth.

The church taught me to tell the truth since the time I was a sunbeam. Tell the truth, kiddos! God is always watching you. The Deity won't hesitate to put down marks on your permanent record! Lies only get bigger and bigger until they explode and ruin your life!

Why can't they take their own advice?

Why is it that they are not completely truthful to the members of their church? To the people who are considering getting baptized?


Oh, I know... there are many Mormons who will claim they know everything about church history and they still "know" the church is true. They claim that the lack of information or lack of complete information isn't important at all, and that we shouldn't worry about it. Seth, the Mormon commenter I finally started ignoring due to his arrogance and condescending attitude, would always make these points.

If it's not important, then why bother hiding it? Why go out of your way to tell the people in the church that they can't trust information from anyone else? Why edit the Book of Mormon and change things? Why don't they discuss certain aspects of church history and really get into the heart of the matter?

My Mom and I were talking a long time ago, and she told me she wanted nothing more than to go to Relief Society and have a lengthy conversation about polygamy, both in this life and the afterlife. That would never happen, though. It's not talked about because they would rather not talk about it and live in denial.

People are afraid of the truth.

How is it that certain people automatically get believed when they spout off nonsense? Pat Robertson is a good example, Thomas S. Monson is another. Regardless of what these two people say or do (among others) their followers will believe them. No questions asked. None.

Anyone who sets him or herself up as God's infallible wing-man on earth should be looked at from every angle. Instead, the sheeple nod their heads, say their prayers and thank their God that they belong to the right church.

What has Thomas S. Monson done to prove he is a prophet? What kind of prophecy has he given that has come true? Has he ever made comments about meeting with Jesus and God in the temple? Having conversations with them about things? Has he ever even attempted to show the people on earth that he really is a prophet?


I think it comes down to one very important decision everyone has to make at one point or another...

Do I want to go along with the flow, or do I want to find the truth about things?

Is the truth more important than the warm fuzzies?

Is the truth worth alienating friends and family members?

Is the truth worth the constant comments and aggravation from members of the church who are convinced I am being misled?

The answer to those questions is a big, fat YES.

I want to know things, to understand them, to embrace what we have in the moment. I don't want to cross my fingers that I choose the right religion, waste time in hundreds of meetings, pray to a God that will ignore you, give up 10% of my money, or belong to a corporation that doesn't think twice about trying to limit the rights of people who are different than they are.


It wasn't easy to learn the truth and have to make big decisions about who I should tell or shouldn't tell. I knew first hand what the church tells members about apostates. I knew what I was up against... and until Mormons go through that themselves they have no idea just how huge and life-changing that can be.

The church was a part of my very existence. It was something I thought about constantly. It's hard to walk away from the normalcy, the comfortable bubble.

I still find myself humming church hymns. I will be walking over to my Mom's house and I will find myself singing Nearer My God to Thee, Choose the Right, Teach Me To Walk in the Light, Count Your Blessings, and I am a Child of God. Those melodies will be in my head forever... and they are catchy, too. Especially after singing them every Sunday (sometimes more) in a boring, slow paced, nearly monotone, funeral death march beat.

So, I have a question for you guys...

Why is it that certain topics are taboo? Not discussed? Why doesn't the church address these things head-on instead of pretending they are not there?

Why are there historically incorrect pictures shown to members of the church that conveniently leave out things like seer stones?

Why doesn't the church recognize that the Book of Abraham isn't even close to being what Joseph Smith said it was?

Why do they tell the members of the church that they shouldn't go on the internet for information about church history and instead only trust info that comes directly from the men in white shirts?

I think I will always be angry about this. Not because I have a dark, Godless heart... but because I went through so much guilt and drama. My anger isn't directed at the members of the church, it's directed to the leaders who have the information at their fingertips and continue to make excuses for the actions of prior leaders.

If you aren't angry, you aren't paying attention.

It's not even close to being a moral thing to do... picking and choosing what information to give. It's so underhanded and sly that it makes me shake my head in disgust.

How do they get away with it?

Shouldn't people all over the world hold religious organizations accountable for the outright lies they tell on a daily basis? Why aren't there more people willing to stand up and demand answers from these people?

I do take comfort in knowing that there are more and more people coming to their senses about Mormonism. That goes for other religions as well. The age of information is upon us, and those who take advantage of the wealth of information learn and grow. Atheism is getting more and more common, and while I don't really care what people believe (as long as they don't make me live by their religious rules: UTAH) I think it's good that people are looking at things in a logical and careful manner.

Blind faith gets you nowhere. You just spin your wheels, devoting time and energy to a belief system that just isn't right. You feel guilt for normal things, you give money to an already wealthy church, and you beat yourself up for not being who the "Lord" wants you to be.

I love truth.

Andee

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Well, I have already posted about my black Friday experience and how insane people get around the Holidays, but this really has nothing to do with the commercial side of the holiday. It has everything to do with memories.

A few minutes ago I was flipping through the television channels and I saw a small clip of one of those old holiday specials, "Santa Claus is Coming to Town."

I used to sit with my Mom, Dad and brothers and watch these specials every single year. It brought back some fantastic memories, and then I was sad. I miss my Dad, I miss the times that my entire family got together and chilled in front of the television screen. I miss my Mom bringing us a huge batch of rice krispie treats.

I miss the past.

Don't get me wrong, I totally appreciate the things I have now... I have a roof over my head, food in my belly and a good life... I just treasure those times.

Andee

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August 13 is my father's birthday.

He was an amazing man. He taught me to tie my shoes, how to ride a bike, and he made damned sure I didn't, "throw like a girl." He loved dogs, hated cats. He ran miles on his lunch breaks from work, and never once told a friend he couldn't help them with something. He built fences, sheds, moved people all over the place, and even helped my grandparents bail hay. There wasn't anything he couldn't do. Really. A true jack-of-all-trades.

Both of my parents were at every once of my dance recitals, plays, piano recitals, concerts, solos, games, and awards ceremonies. If it sounds like a lot, it *is* a lot. They were always there, never missed a thing.

He coached basketball, little league, and helped with soccer. By the time my brothers and I were too old to play, he volunteered to be a referee. He was a boy scout leader, and someone everyone could turn to for help.

Everyone knew my Dad. They knew he was a straight-shooter with a great sense of humor. He was honest, to the point, and kind. He was generous, with his time and money.

He was a good person. His life was much too short. I spent much of my day thinking about what I would be doing for his birthday if he were still with us. Would we be having the annual barbecue (even though I just went vegetarian... oh, I am sure he would laugh at that!)? Would we go out to dinner? Would he give me hell about adopting three cats? Would he still have salt-and-pepper hair? Would he have different glasses? Strange things to think about, but I wish I didn't have to wonder.

The hardest part about learning the truth about the church isn't how hard it is for me in my day to day life. The hardest part is now knowing that I truly have no answers. I don't know if I will ever see him again and it kills me. It's like dealing with his death all over again. It hurts so bad. It's not fair. He didn't deserve that cancer. He was such a good person.

I wish I could give him a huge hug.

I miss him so much.

I love you Dad. Happy Birthday.

Andee

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I was born in January of 1979. My parents were absolutely wonderful people, and were not very religious people. My Mom went through periods of being active in the Mormon Church, but it never lasted long. When my brother and I were 8 we were both baptized into the Mormon Church... mostly because it was "the right thing to do" and to keep my Grandparents happy.

When I was a teenager, I started going to church with my little brother. Just the two of us. We would go to Sunday School Class and Sacrament Meeting and be bored out of our minds. Most of the time we played games like tic tac toe and dots.

One summer I was invited to go to "Girls Camp." Girls from the whole stake (a large area of local churches) went into the woods and lived in tents to study the gospel and roast weenies. It was a pretty nice time... until the incident. Ahh... the incident.

The last night of camp we were asked to get out of our tents in the middle of the night. With nothing more than flashlights and the girl in front of us we made our way to a small gathering of girls and the local church leaders (all female except for one male who is always present because he holds the "priesthood"). We were told that we were going to be blindfolded and we had to listen for the right voice to lead us to safety. We also got to hold onto a piece of string to the side...

Off we went into the night. I tripped two times, but listened for my friends voice to lead me to safety. There were other girls trying to trick you along the way, saying things like, "Let Go!" and "You Made It! You are Safe!"

I finally made it to safety and found myself under a huge tree lit with white Christmas lights. It was "Heaven" and I listened to the right voice. I sat there in heaven waiting for my friends and only a few of them made it. I got sick of waiting for the others so I went down the path alone to see where they were. I found them in another clearing getting a lecture on how to listen to the Holy Ghost. Most of the girls were crying.

The next morning we had a sunrise testimony meeting. When you go to a testimony meeting you know you are going to hear the words, "I would like to bear my testimony, that I know the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints is true. I know Joseph Smith was a true prophet of God, and he restored the gospel through the Book of Mormon..." blah blah blah. What I didn't expect was to hear girl after girl get up to the microphone and cry about how she didn't make it to heaven because she wasn't good enough... or cry because she tried to trick her friends into letting go of the string and straying them from heaven. It was a mess. I went home from that trip feeling like I had been manipulated. I have read many accounts of other LDS girls camps from across the country and this "game" is played often to teach the kids a lesson. It taught me that the church would manipulate you in a heartbeat.

I never went back to church... my Mom and Dad didn't mind. They were both cool with whatever my brother and I believed as long as we were good people and treated people as we wanted to be treated. If I am half the person my Mom is and my Dad was, I would be happy.

My Mom was raised in the Church. My grandfather was very strict about going to Church on Sunday, and even made the rule that if you didn't go to church, you couldn't live in the house. He was an avid follower of the Mormon Gospel My Grandmother didn't care for the church too much after she went through the temple for the first time. There was abuse in the home... my Mom has only told me this recently. When my Grandmother was pregnant with my Mom, my grandpa found a coffee pot (a huge no-no in the Mormon religion... coffee is of the devil!) and pushed Grandma down the stairs. The church didn't really bring their family together... it tore them apart.

When my Mom married my Dad they were very happy. They both smoked (which they hid from my Grandfather for 20 years!) and drank occasionally. My Dad's father was a recovering alcoholic turned born again Mormon... it was hard for him to handle. I think my Dad was the only one of his siblings to not turn to the Church. He didn't buy it, not one bit. He told me that on more than on occasion. We were happy being who we were, and we didn't need a church to tell us any different.

The year I graduated high school my Dad was diagnosed with cancer. It was caught way too late, and once the doctors made the diagnosis they gave him three days to live. My whole life stopped. Nothing mattered except making my Dad well again... and it simply wasn't to be.

He stayed 3 weeks in the hospital and finally came home and traveled to and from treatments 2 hours away. His family and friends all took turns driving him into the city to have personal time with him. He couldn't speak towards the end, and he used a notebook to write down what he wanted to say. One day I was driving him home from radiation treatments and he wrote down that he missed driving. I didn't think about it for a second... I stopped the car, walked over to the passenger side and told him to drive me home. He smiled the whole time. He didn't want to die, he fought hard... but there was only so much they could do. He passed away 4 months after his diagnosis.

My Mom was shaken. We planned his funeral and took care of all the arrangements. She was scared that she would never see him again, and the things she was taught as a young girl in the Mormon church were scaring her. She started going to church again, and reading the Book of Mormon. I was very upfront with her that I didn't believe what she believed, and she understood... but begged me to read the Book of Mormon and pray about it.

A few months after my Dad passed away, his sister called my Mom and told her that they were getting him sealed to them in the temple. They didn't bother to ask us how we felt about it, or how my Dad felt about it... it was simply going to be. My Mom was understandably upset because she wanted to do his temple work herself. She knew she wouldn't be temple worthy in time for the ceremony, so we sat outside the temple while the "worthy" people went inside and did work for my Dad.

My Mom was upset... yes. I was really pissed. How dare his family do this to us? To my Mom? To my DAD! He didn't want to be sealed in the temple. I find this morally wrong, as well as the baptisms for the dead the Mormon church does as well. What you believe is important to you as a person... who is anyone to decide what they want for you after you are gone?

On the way home from the temple I was steaming about the whole thing. I had to get out of Utah for my own sanity. I met my Roommate and he offered to let me stay with him in Orlando... only to move back with Roomie 7 years later.

I am now back in the Beehive State and getting used to the culture again. Missionaries have stopped by three times, and most of my co-workers have asked me about my religion in hopes of getting me to go to church with them. I refuse.
The Mormon Church is lying to it's own members. They claim Joseph Smith recieved a visit from the angel Moroni, and showed Joseph where the golden plates were buried in a hill. Joseph supposedly found these plates, dug them up, and translated them into what is now the book of Mormon. What they don't tell you is that Joseph Smith didn't have the plates anywhere around him when he was "translating" the plates. Joseph used a "seer stone" inside a top hat and told someone else what to write down. If you have ever seen the South Park episode "All About Mormons" (and it's really funny...) you will see how the Book of Mormon was created.

Polygamy is another huge issue for me. Joseph Smith hid his other wives from his first wife, Emma, for many years. He married these extra wives in secret, and some of them were already married to other men. He also married a young girl of 14 named Helen Mar Kimball. He promised her family eternal salvation if she married him, and damnation if she didn't. She didn't really have much of a choice, did she?

I have a hard time believing in a prophet. Members of the Mormon faith put all their heart, soul, time, and money into helping the church grow and succeed. The Mormon Church is extremely wealthy, and is currently building a mall in Salt Lake City that costs approx. 2 billion dollars... yes, billion. Where did that money come from? The members of the church. How is that helping the poor and needy? It's not.

I have a lot of anger about this due to the pain it has caused so many people. I would love to have a few minutes with some of the apostles of the Mormon Church... I have so many questions I need answered.

Thanks for listening to me rant. There will be more... no doubt. This is only the tip of the Mormon Iceberg.

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