Windy Sydney

Money. Nothing gets me worked up as much as much as thinking about the amount of money the church has spent on things like temples and business that could be put to much better use. Let's point out quickly that the late Gordon B. Hinkley made the decision to build a 2 BILLION DOLLAR MALL right before the financial crash we are now dealing with. Where was God when he was making that decision? The Lord didn't give him a heads up? Huh...

No one knows exactly how much money the church has, because they are not required to share the information. The average member has no idea how much money goes to charity compared to lining the pockets of the church and it's many businesses.

I am a huge fan of the idea that every religious institution that receives a tax exempt status should have to share it's financial records to the tax payers in their state and country. What are they afraid of? If you are doing nothing wrong, you have nothing to worry about. Donating money to charity is one of the best things you can do with your money. I will be the last to argue with that. There are people out there who are losing their jobs left and right, their homes are being foreclosed on, and they are still required to give their 10 percent to the church in order to be a member in good standing. What sense does this make? Does God really demand you give money to the church before making sure your children have food in their bellies and clothes on their backs? Some bishops require people to pay a full tithe before they are allowed to ask for any kind of assistance from the church. This is just backwards to me. How about taking care of your family so you don't have to ask for assistance? It's pretty damned simple, right? Recently, a poster on PostMormon.org shared this little gem:

I learned in serving almost twenty years as bishop and stake president that an excellent insurance against divorce is the payment of tithing. Payment of tithing seems to facilitate keeping the spiritual battery charged in order to make it through the times when the spiritual generator has been idle or not working. (”The Enriching of Marriage,” Ensign, Nov. 1977, 11.)

Really? REALLY? Tithing keeps your marriage together? Pardon me if I am wrong, but the one thing couples fight over the most is money. Who has it, who makes it, who makes the decisions on where that money goes... I truly believe tithing is probably one of the biggest "fight starters" in an LDS couples' lives.

Why doesn't the church tell us where they put this tithing money? Most of the people I have talked to over the years claim it's because they don't want to brag. This makes me laugh. If you are doing good works for the good of your fellow man, shouldn't God want you to shout it from the mountaintops to get more people to join your church or assist with their funds?

As tithe payers, shouldn't you want to see the financial information?


Most believing Mormons don't even consider that the church is doing anything wrong. The men in charge are chosen by God, after all. Right?

Why is it that God wants things like the finest of marble in his temples when there are people in the world who are suffering. Does God truly care about the decor when his children are going hungry, dying of disease and losing their children for lack of immunizations? Sick children? Who cares! We want marble! Instead of spending your time volunteering to teach children to read or keep them out of trouble, God wants us to spend hours and hours chanting and going through temple ceremonies for people who are already dead?

Think of the good that could be done with this time and money. Really think about it!!!

Let me share this quote from MormonThink.com:

"In 1997, U.S. congregations of the similarly sized Evangelical Lutheran Church in America raised $11.8 million in cash donations for worldwide hunger. The same year it raised $3.64 million for domestic and international disaster response, for a one-year humanitarian cash total of $15.44 million, more than half the amount the LDS provided over fourteen years." P. 129, Mormon America , Richard Ostling

In Jan. 2006, from the Church PR department, (Deseret News Publishing Company): Edgley said, "that since 1984, the LDS Church has donated nearly $750 million in cash and goods to people in need in more than 150 countries." That averages to $37.5 mil per year or about $3-$4 per Mormon member went to the poor. The total of $750 million in 22 years spent in cash and goods to people in need is only a THIRD what the church is spending on a mall they're building in Salt Lake City. The Mormon church is spending less than 1% of its income to help the poor. Is the Mormon church really a charitable organization?

The best estimates are that the church's assets are around $100 billion and that tithing runs $4.5-6.5 billion per year. But no matter how you slice it, humanitarian work is a small, itty, bitty part of church expenditures.

Even many individuals and corporations spend more than 1% on charitable work:
Wal-Mart - 1.5%
Ford - 2.2%
JP Morgan 2.1%
MBNA - 1.4%
UPS - 1.1%
GM - 1.23%
Avon - 3.97%
MetLife - 1%
Prudential - 1.22%
Eli Lilly - 1.4%

According to the IRS, the average charitable contribution is 2.2%.

Why is it that several large corporations and the average gentile are more charitable than the one and only true church upon the face of the whole earth? Again we come back to the fact that the church spends very little of its wealth and income on helping the poor and unfortunate. It spends about 1% of tithing on helping the poor. If you include investment income, it's much less than 1%.

Why does there need to be a corporate side? Why does the church need to buy malls, hotels, restaurants, condos, ranches, farmland, Oahu land, resorts, TV stations, radio stations, newspapers, and insurance companies? How does owning these things contribute to the 3 missions of the church of perfecting the saints, redeeming the dead, and preaching the gospel?

The real point is that the church gets more money through tithing and investment income than it knows what to do with.

When I had the opportunity to go to the ExMormon Foundation Conference last October in Salt Lake City, I had a conversation with someone who was walking away from the church while her husband wanted to stay in the church. They had a dilemma... how would they come to an agreement on tithing? It was important to him, but not to her. They eventually came to a decision to donate the money to a charity that shared it's finances with it's donors and helped people. They know where the money is going, and they know the good it's doing. There is no question that their money is going to the right place, and they both believe God would be okay with that. The man's bishop is a different story, however, and he is no longer a temple recommend holding member. It's ridiculous! God obviously wants the church to have the money more than a young kid who needs food.

Let me share another gem from MormonThink.com:

Growing up in the church many of us took pride in saying that our bishops and other local leaders are not paid like ministers of other religions. Although that's true, there are at least 100 or so leaders in the LDS Church that are paid, such as the 12 apostles, First Presidency, and the First Quorum of the Seventy. People naturally wonder how much they are paid. Most members are under the impression that the General Authorities receive some sort of living allowance or stipend. We don't have definite answers as that information is also kept private by the church. A few fair comments before discussing it further:

• Many of the General Authorities were wealthy before entering GA status.
• Some make additional money by writing books.
• Many sit on the boards of corporations owned by the Corporation of the President and of course receive director pay as a member of the board.
• Some own stock in companies controlled by the corporation of the president.
• Some own companies that have contracts with the corporation of the president.
• Some own real estate companies that buy property that the church then purchases.
  
  

All of the published salary levels for non-ecclesiastical positions are relatively low. In the church postings listed on church bulletin boards for accountants, engineers, etc. The salaries are less than what most people would earn in the private sector. Church Education System teachers are not over paid but do have good benefits. So the question is, do the General Authority salaries follow suit or are they significantly different? Perhaps one thing to consider is the housing provided to Mission Presidents. All of the Mission President homes we've ever seen have been luxury homes. Even mission presidents sent to developing nations live in luxurious quarters, their children attend expensive private schools for expatriates, and the church provides servants. It's quite a difference between where the younger missionaries and older couple missionaries live and where the Mission presidents live. If this is proportional the higher up the ladder in the church, then the GAs may receive significant compensation.

Regardless of the salary, being a General Authority has a lot of financial perks. Many are given a place to live, paid travel, chauffeurs, limos, paid expenses, etc. And of course the members are very helpful to the GAs. For example, the billionaire LDS member Brother Huntsman gave President Hinckley free use of his corporate jet all throughout his tenure as President

Something to think about, huh?

One thing that has annoyed me from the time I was a small child, is the thought that tithing is life insurance. As long as you pay, God will look out for you. If you don't pay your tithing, your blessings will diminish and your life won't be as fulfilling.

Let me tell everyone out there that I have never paid tithing. Never. Not one red cent. My life has been wonderful. Sure, bad things have happened to me, but the good has far outweighed the bad. I can also point out that tithing paying members have bad things happen to them, right? Where is this "insurance?"

While my father was fighting cancer, I drove to Southern Utah to stay with my Dad's sister for a couple nights while I checked out a school down there. Not one, but two of my aunts constantly made comments about how they were blessed because they paid their tithing. They didn't say these things in front of me, I accidentally overheard them. Were they implying that my father had cancer because he wasn't an active tithe payer? Probably not. They were certainly convinced they had the invisible insurance that others didn't.


My Mom has mentioned many times that she would love to have the money back that she once gave the church. She was taught from a young age that the only way to be with my father in heaven again was to go to the temple and get sealed as a family. Can you go to the temple without paying tithing? Nope. Sure can't.

That money sure would come in handy now that she is paying a mortgage and looking for work!

Done ranting now...

Andee

P.S. If a believing Mormon leaves a comment claiming that my Mom would find a job if she paid her tithing, I will post it for the world to see. That is classic cult thinking right there.

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I had a conversation with someone today who really ticked me off.

Well, I didn't have a conversation *with* them, I kind of overheard their conversation. Wasn't eavesdropping... honest. It's not like I can leave my position at work and let people talk amongst themselves. It's my job to be there in case they need me.

Anyway...

They were going on and on about how someone they knew left the Church and how sad and horrible that person's life was going to be. How poor they would be without paying their tithing. How lonely they would be without a temple marriage. You would think the person was given two weeks to live or something... but no.

The only thing this random person did was decide the Mormon Church wasn't for them. A grown adult with the capacity to understand and objectively study what they want to believe in. Yes... how horrible for them... right?

I suppose this is the last line of defense the Church has for people like me.

They want to scare my believing family and friends into thinking that I am going to become a raging alcoholic who sleeps around with random men (and women!) and robs convenience stores for extra drug money. They want my family and friends to assume that my life is horrific. They want them to believe that the only thing that can save me is the LDS Church, or being cut off from my friends and family in a showing of "tough love."

I have a news flash for all the Mormons who love to read my blog and discuss amongst yourselves...

My life is great.

Really.

It is.

I have an apartment that I share with a really good friend. We have separate bedrooms. Really. We do.

I have three adorable kittens who shower me with unconditional love (something the church doesn't quite understand if you ask me...) because they love me for me.

I have family members who don't give a flying rats ass what religion I am or what I believe in... they love me because I am a good person.

There are no drug-induced orgies. No crying myself to sleep at night because I have lost the will to live.

My life went on just fine without the church...

I just wish more Mormons would understand that...

You have no idea how hard I had to bite my tongue when they were talking... ugh...

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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I was putting the finishing touches on my peach and cherry pies before they went into the oven. I heard a knock at my door. I knew it wasn't my Mom... I wasn't expecting her for a couple of hours. I had no idea who it was.

I went to the door and looked through the peep-hole to see two men standing and talking with each other. One had a purple shirt, the other red, so I didn't think they were Mormons. I wasn't expecting them, and the fact that they showed up on Thanksgiving Day unannounced kind of ticked me off, so I didn't answer the door. Man in the purple shirt reached into his bag and grabbed a pamphlet of some kind in my door. After they were safely away, I opened the door to receive my mystery surprise.

This is the front page of the pamphlet:

"Would You Like to Know the Truth?"

THE truth about what? About some of the most important questions that humans have ever asked. Perhaps you have wondered about such questions as these?

"Does God really care about us?"

"Will war and suffering ever end?"

"What happens to us when we die?"

"Is there any hope for the dead?"

"How can I pray and be heard by God?"

"How can I find happiness in my life?"

Where would you look for answers to these questions? If you went to libraries or bookstores, you might find thousands of books claiming to provide the answers. Often, though, one book contradicts the other. Others seem valid at the moment but soon become outdated and are revised or replaced.

There is, however, one book that contains reliable answers. It is a book of truth. Jesus Christ said in prayer to God: "Your word is truth." (John 17:17) Today we know that Word as the Holy Bible. On the following pages, you will get a glimpse of the Bible's clear, truthful answers to the above questions."

Hmmm... I didn't know until my Mom arrived that the pamphlet was from the Jehovah's Witnesses. Super.

Here is something I noticed right away...

Look at how the beginning of the pamphlet begins... asking all the questions about God and life after death...

Now, go to Mormon.org and look at the front page.

Similar? Huh?

I guess it's a good way to capture someone's attention. Claiming you have the answers and everyone else is wrong.

Good thing I know better!

This Thanksgiving I have something else to be thankful for... I am thankful that I no longer feel guilty if I don't want to talk to total strangers who show up unannounced at my door on a holiday.

I am so glad I am over that!

Andee

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I was just watching the end of Survivor and a news teaser was introduced by one of the local television anchors.

He mentioned that a suspicious white powder was found at temple square as well as at the LA temple. I hope this is wrong.

If someone is trying to harm Mormons for their role in the passing of Proposition 8 in California, they are going about this in the wrong way. I can't emphasize that enough. Even if this is a joke or a plan to scare the people who frequent these areas, it's really messed up.

If the person(s) who did this are trying to punish the Mormon Church in this manner (through fear) they are making the rest of us look like crazy people. They are not doing us any favors, especially since the Mormon Church loves to feel persecuted... they thrive on it. They believe persecution is proof that Satan is trying to destroy their church.

What are they thinking?

Gawd!

Again, I hope it's wrong.

Andee

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The other day at work a believing Mormon co-worker asked me why I didn't believe in the church anymore. I told her at least three times that I didn't want to be the possible cause of her loss of testimony, and that she should really be sure she wants to hear what I have to say. She did.

Since we were in front of other co-workers and customers, I couldn't say much. I quietly mentioned that Joseph Smith married two 14-year-old girls, and there is no way in Hell I could think of one good reason God would want him to do that. I asked her if she could think of a reason. The look on her face was shock. I honestly though she was going to cry.

"What else?"

"Joseph Smith hid many of his marriages from his wife, Emma. She didn't know he was marrying people behind her back... is that something a man of God would do?"

I had the same look of confusion and shock.

I dropped it because customers were starting to ask us questions.

Should I have kept my mouth shut?

This person keeps bringing up the church, and there are lots of things I don't feel right about talking at work. Should I write her a list of problems? I think I will...

Hey... She asked... right?

Andee

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I woke up to rain.  Lots and lots and lots of rain.  It's okay, I love a cloudy sky and the cozy feeling of being all wrapped up in a sweatshirt or jacket and enjoying the cooler weather.  The only bad thing was that my brother and his wife were driving up for a visit and the rain was horrible on I-15.  They even mentioned they couldn't see the lines on the road at one point.  Scary stuff!

While Mom and I were waiting patiently for them to arrive in Logan, we went on a walk in the rain.  My socks kept falling down.  It drove me nuts! So, we made a return trip to my apartment so I could change socks and shoes.  At least I realized they were going to be an issue before I was out and about for the day, huh?

 I took this photo on the way to my Mom's house.  She lives a couple blocks away, it's really nice to know that I can just walk over to see her after spending so many years in Orlando.  I love it.

 More rain.  I love the rain... really... I do... 

 My brother and his wife arrived safe and sound.  We decided to brave the weather (I love the rain... really) and walk down main street.  These are my brother's feet.  Did I mention it was raining?  Because I love the rain.

 Main street was practically empty.  We had the place to ourselves... probably because it was raining.  I love the rain.

 We stopped for coffee in a little out of the way coffee shop.  It was really nice being in the warm shop... because it was raining.  I love the rain.  Really.

 This shot was taken outside of the quaint coffee shop.  I had a good time balancing my 12 oz Mocha and my camera.  I think I ended up wearing more coffee than I drank, but thats okay because the coffee was hot and I was cold... because it was raining.  Love. The. Rain.

 Another shot next to the coffee shop.  It was a beautiful area... I plan on making weekly trips for coffee with extra sugar and cream. 

 All in all, it was a fantastic day.  I spent some quality time with people who love me for me.  It can't get any better than that, can it?

Andee

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I took this photo today, I loved the color.

When someone leaves the Mormon Church, there is a grieving process, much like something you would go through when someone you love very much dies.

Something we loved very much did die.  Our belief died.  Our trust died.  Relationships died. Friendships died.  In some cases, those leaving the church are completely alone.  A spouse leaves with the children, extended family gossips about the horrible sins that you "must" have committed to determine the church false, or you find yourself completely without friends.  In a way, our way of life died.  We had to start over and learn things all over again.

The way our family and friends perceived us changed, and the way we looked at ourselves changed.  It's a painful process...

There was a point in our lives when we had all the answers.  We knew that we had to follow certain steps, endure to the end, and make sacrifices... but in the end we would be rewarded greatly with an eternal family in the Celestial Kingdom of heaven.  

We sat with our families in church meetings, bonding to each other as well as the doctrines that were taught to guide us.  Almost everything in our lives revolved around the church's approval. We wouldn't drink coffee or tea, we would pray daily, family home evening on Monday nights, mutual on Wednesday nights, Boy Scouts, Sunday meetings, priesthood, relief society.  The list goes on and on.

When you come to the conclusion the church can't possibly be true, and take the stance to stand up for your beliefs and not to support the church, your entire life changes.  It's one of the hardest things I have ever gone through, and I often wonder when I will stop feeling so hurt and angry. When will I have more power in my own life?  These things will come with time, I am sure.

My Mom and I went on a really long walk today, and we got to chatting about the church.  I turned to her, and said, "You know... I really wish that one apostle... someone... would just fess up and tell the truth."

I am dreaming.  That wouldn't happen.  There is no way in the world the church would ever admit it was wrong about anything.  They are, after all, supposedly run by a man who can chat with God at any given time... admitting they were wrong would mean that either God was giving them wrong information, or that they didn't know how to read the information God gave them. Yeah... that would happen.

I know that there are people out there who really believe in the Church, and they strive to be the best Mormons they can be.  These are good people, who don't hurt others or judge others.  I don't wish the things I have been through on them... but I have a hard time staying silent knowing they are being misled and lied to.

Where is the fine line I should walk here?

Do I want to bring the church down?  Is that what I am after?  Is that why I want one of the head honchos to grow a conscience and fess up?  

One thing I do know is that I will never stay silent.  I am not out to ruin a good person's faith, but I am not going to stand around while people are being mistreated.  

Ugh, ramble city... 

Andee

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Wow.  I just re-read what I wrote yesterday and I feel the need to apologize.  The whole thing looks like a drunken rant going nowhere.  In my defense, I had worked an entire shift with only a lunch break.  My mind was mush.  I am surprised I had the ability to form complete sentences... if you consider those sentences... ugh, what a mess... anyhoo...

I have been spending a lot of time thinking about how I want my exit from the church to go.  Do I want to resign? Or, do I want my day in "court?"  I have been having conversations with my Mom about this for months.  She resigned back in March, after a long meeting with her bishop.  She told me that she felt wonderful and free after sending in the letters.  She was happy that she didn't have assigned friends anymore.  That is a hot topic for both of us.  Most of all, she was happy they would stop trying to re-activate her.  Imagine our surprise when she moved to a new town months and months after resigning and finding a Relief Society note on her door one Sunday!  It hasn't happened in a couple weeks, so maybe they finally figured out she was no longer a member.  Who knows...

I know I would enjoy being left alone.  I don't want assigned friends.  I don't want starving little boys being escorted to my apartment door every Sunday to beg me for Fast Offerings. Side rant: It's not enough that they starve all freakin' day, but then they have to march the kids around for hours on an empty stomach to ask for money!  What the Hell is wrong with these people?  Really?  I wouldn't miss seeing their sad, puppy-dog eyes when I open my door to them every month!  They probably smell my dinner cooking and their mouths are watering... Let kids be kids... Rant over.

So yeah... it would be nice to just walk away from the church.  I could throw myself a party the day I send in the letters... I am not a drinker, although you wouldn't guess that from yesterday's post, but I do intend on getting sloshed just for the occasion.  I am counting on all of you to remind me not to blog that night.  Friends don't let friends blog drunk!

My other option is to go out with a bang...

I am mad as hell about being lied to.  The only thing I have done wrong in the eyes of the church is that I have not taken the brethren's word for things, thought on my own, and talked openly and honestly about things I learned.  No one will ever tell me what I should or should not talk about.  Ever.  That is what they want to do.

I would love to tell the men who think they have the right to judge me and my giant stack of historical facts that they can sit around and pat each other on the back as much as they want... it doesn't make them right.  Who the hell are these assholes?  Chosen by God, my ass.  

How long do you think they would have me in that room before they lost their tempers at the lowly woman who dared talk back to them?  Oh, it would be fun to totally lose my mind and show them what I really think of their judgement, but that isn't who I am... I daydream about causing a big scene, but I don't think I could ever go through with it.  I couldn't behave like that. It would be backing up every horrible stereotype they place on people who leave the church.

"See there, Brother Goober?  They all *are* angry and bitter people once they leave the church!"

"Yes, Brother BooBoo, we should pray for that useless, stupid woman."

Since I can't come to the decision, I daydream about sitting down with Monson himself, and asking him some questions.  Well... maybe not Monson.  I can't even look at that guys photo without feeling my blood pressure rise.  He just looks like a pompous windbag.  He reminds me of a buzzard, or that one muppet bird like thing... 

He doesn't look like a man of God to me.  I know people are going to call me all sorts of names and tell me I am being judgie-McJudgerson, but it's just an honest reaction.  It's just Andee's humble opinion.  You can tell that he is trying hard to look peaceful and compassionate in his church photos, and he just can't pull it off.  I wouldn't trust that guy with anything.  Just sayin'.

Maybe I could write a letter... Something respectful and straight from the heart?  A list of honest questions.  Do you think the first presidency would write me back?  Do you think they would pay attention to little ole me?  I have an extremely rough draft of the letter I want to send, I might get around to sharing it by the weekend.  Any thoughts, ideas, or suggestions would be greatly appreciated.

Andee

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Mom and I are going to have a day of fun.  I have been looking forward to this for a week.  We are going to walk main street, go out to lunch, do more walking, antique shopping, and then we are going to see our first LDS-specific movie since becoming evil apostates.

The Errand of Angels follows a young woman on her mission to Austria.  I can't wait to learn how they portray the experience compared to how it "really is."

I promise a full movie review tonight, as well as photos from my day of fun.  Maybe I will have a couple antiques to show you as well... I can hope...

Andee

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Forgive me, I am more than a little angry right now. Maybe angry isn't the right word to choose... hurt, offended, and betrayed come to mind. Those fit.

For those who don't know a lot about my Mom's childhood, I am going to explain the way she grew up. Her father was a drinker... a heavy drinker. He went to the bars and wasted a lot of time and money chasing the buzz. The day my Mom was born, he stopped drinking cold turkey. You can imagine how much of a change that must have been for my grandmother. She had a newborn baby girl, and a husband who wasn't exactly the man she married.

I want to throw in that I only once caught a glimpse of grandpa's temper. He treated his grandkids like we were gifts from God. We got everything we asked for, and he never once touched a hair on our heads. Both of my grandparents spoiled us rotten. It was weird seeing one side of him, and then hearing, years and years later, how horrible he was to his family. I don't feel like I know him well at all... I only know what he decided to share with me. A cookie-cutter, white-washed version of the truth... sound familiar?

When he stopped drinking, he also took up the LDS Church and started telling everyone in the house that they had to attend church or be kicked out of the house. This included my grandmother who didn't care for the church at all. I was very close to her, and we had a tight bond. She knew the whole thing was ridiculous, without the information I have right now... she knew it.

Another little tidbit is that both of my Grandfathers were heavy drinkers that turned to the church when they decided to get clean. They both went from one extreme to the other... and quickly. It's strange.

Grandpa got more and more abusive as he became more and more active. I am not saying the church made him abusive. He did this on his own. I *am* saying that the church gave him reasons to be abusive. They never would have told him to throw his wife down the stairs if he caught her with a coffee pot, but they would have told him to deal with the coffee pot because he was a priesthood holder and the home and the family were under his rule. We all know this much to be true... especially in the 60's and 70's.

Grandpa learned about gender roles in the church and took it to the extreme. My Grandmother, Mom, and her sister did all the housework. ALL of it. They cooked, cleaned, prepared things for company, did the wash... you name it. They were also expected to help out with chores outside. They had horses, so there were lots of things that needed to be done.

One day, my Mom was excited about driving to see her friend in the next town. She had received her drivers license and grandpa finally gave her permission to borrow the car. She was halfway there and she noticed someone following her with lights flashing. She slowed down and stopped realizing it was Grandpa in his truck. He hopped in his truck and chased her down because there was dust on the piano. She had to turn around and dust and cancel her plans with her friend. When the school shopping would be done, he would go with the girls and he would physically make sure that their skirts were "modest" with a ruler. Did the boys have anything to worry about? No.

Grandpa would hit, beat, kick, and throw. He didn't care who was in his way. He threw my grandma down the stairs when she was pregnant, he beat one of his sons to a bloody pulp, he kicked out one of his sons when he stopped attending church. It was a constant fear of what he might do next, what mood was he in, what they could have possibly done wrong. I can't even come close to truly explaining how it really was. My Mom can't even bring herself to tell me most of it. It makes me angry that anyone could hurt the people I loved so much...

No one in the house was allowed to date anyone who wasn't LDS. That was the most important thing. That was the first question he would ask... "Are they LDS?"

Grandma never got any money for things for herself. If she needed tires for her car, she had to pay for it herself... grandpa wouldn't help her at all. If her kids needed money for things at school, she had to take care of it. Grandpa wouldn't help with that, either. Grandma took a job at a bar/restaurant to make ends meet (and lets face it... to take care of her kids...). Grandpa would give her hell because she was around cigarette smoke. He didn't want any wife of his around something that the church wouldn't approve of. She stuck to her guns, kept the job, and took care of her children.

What grandpa DID do with his money was pay tithing and show everyone how much he paid. He knew it was supposed to be confidential, but he wanted people to know how "worthy" he was. Again, it might seem like I am blaming the church for this... I am not. It just didn't help. That's all.

When the kids eventually left the home (some because they grew up, and some because they were kicked out.. physically...) grandma found other jobs to help herself and to basically get herself away from the house once in a while. She worked in grocery stores, and she was one of the first people hired at a new store called Wal-Mart when it came to Utah for the first time. Everyone knew her, everyone knew what an angel she was... everyone LOVED her.

My Aunt eventually married a non-LDS man and was told that she wasn't pleasing her heavenly father. Grandpa took every chance to tell her how much she was letting him down. She had two beautiful children, and a beautiful home. She took care of those kids and loved them dearly. They were playing musical instruments, they were running for class president. Yet to him, it wasn't good enough. Nothing would ever be good enough.

Sadly, my cousin died while ice skating on a lake when the ice broke through. The rescue teams did everything they could to save her, but nothing could be done. She was only eleven years old. I idolized her. I was only six when she died, but I will never forget sitting on my grandma's bed that night watching the news as they talked about my cousin and nodded in sadness. The newscasters got her name wrong. They called her Terry... her name was Tara.

You would think that Grandpa would take a breath and hug his daughter and console her... wouldn't you? It didn't happen. Tara's death tore my grandmother, mother, and my aunt (of course) apart... none of us got over it. What did grandpa do? He turned to his daughter and said, "If you ever want to see her again, you better go back to church. You are not good enough to be with her right now." Amazing, isn't it?

My aunt became depressed. Anyone would be. She started drinking and battled a drinking problem for many, many years. We were all hopeful when she re-married and started over in a new home, but unfortunately it was more of the same. Her husband (who I liked very much) had a drinking problem of his own, and ended up taking his own life in the garage of their condo. A few years later, my aunt would do the same thing.

I am not blaming my grandfather for what happened with my aunt, but I certainly can't give him any brownie points for actually being there for her. Maybe he wasn't emotionally available to be a good father, maybe he didn't have the necessary skills... but there is no excuse for what he did. He could have loved her instead of make her feel like she would never be good enough. He still thought he was good to go in the light of the Lord, because he had a temple recommend in his pocket and a tithing check in his checkbook.

My grandmother passed away in her sleep in October of 1997. Only three months before my Dad died of cancer. He was very sick, but he stood up as pallbearer at her funeral because he loved her so much. They had a fantastic relationship, and my Mom and Dad would even buy her cigarettes in secret when she needed one... they clicked. I like to think my grandma was there to meet my Dad when he passed away...

Grandpa did take her death hard. He was lost, he didn't know what to do... he didn't know how to do things like laundry and housecleaning. He didn't realize what he had until it was gone.

A few years ago, Grandpa started dating someone. Most of us thought it was a good thing. He needed to be around someone and share life. What bothered my Mom and I was that he was doing things with his girlfriend, like going out dancing, taking trips, socializing, that he never did with my Grandma.

Grandma deserved to be treated so much better. She was one of the nicest, sweetest souls I have ever had the pleasure of knowing... and my Mom is right up there, too. They wouldn't hurt a fly, and they deserve(d) good things.

My grandpa left a phone message for my Mom today. He got married. He moved to a new town, and that is that. She isn't LDS, she is never going to be LDS, and he is fine with it.

What the hell?

Grandma went through a living hell with this man for years and years because she wasn't the perfect LDS Stepford wife he wanted, and now he doesn't care? The rules he set for his wife and his children don't apply to him? He takes his new wife (that is weird to say) dancing, he takes her out to dinner... he does all the things with her that he should have done with my grandmother.

I feel like it's a slap in the face to everything she went through. I feel like I could physically throw up... and I would like to do it all over his hundred dollar cowboy boots!

I can't possibly explain on this blog how things really were... the only thing I can say, is that I am done. I am done going out of my way to have a relationship with a man who could look back and not think he did anything wrong. I can't do it.

I guess that makes me a bad person. I just have to distance myself from someone who can do that. I can't trust myself to be civil or respectful to a man who has been so disrespectful to some of the people I love the most.

Andee

P.S. You know what makes me even more mad? That TBM, true-blue-believing Mormons are going to read this and assume that my Grandfather offended me and that is why I left the church.

You know it's true.

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Well, Mom moved to Logan yesterday, and her house is starting to come together.

The moving company who helped was amazing, and the guys who were assisting with the move were very nice and extremely helpful. They even offered to hook up her washer and dryer for her even though they were not supposed to. Unfortunately, they were unable to hook up the dryer because we need a 4 pronged cord instead of the 3 pronged cord she has now. Should be an easy fix with a quick trip to Lowe's.

There were a couple minor (okay, major) heart attack moments while putting her desk together. It's a huge thing, with bookcases and glass shelves... very nice and very expensive. We actually dropped the part with the glass shelves not just once... but twice. Luckily, the furniture is still in excellent condition with every little piece of glass still intact. Yep... God didn't punish us for leaving the church by a sad twist of fate... no sir. It was kind of funny because the first thing Mom said to me was (sarcastically), "This is what happens when people leave the church... everything just falls apart!" We had a much needed laugh about it.

Things are coming together, and I am glad to have her closer to me. We will have a lot more together-time, and I am excited about that.

Andee

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A continuation of what started yesterday. You might want to read that first...

Racism was an issue for me. A big one. It doesn't make any sense that God would want people to be kept from his one true church simply because of their skin color.

Bishie thought the racism thing was something we would never understand while we were on earth and that we simply had to trust in the Lord and his decisions. Blech. A loving God wouldn't do that. Sorry. Strike one.

Sexism is the next topic...

I told bishie about the time I was a teenager at girls camp and the millions of conversations I had about marrying a return missionary in the temple. The leaders never talked to us about following our dreams, or careers. They spent the most time telling us what our dreams should be. This gets interesting because the bishop has a young daughter. What would he do if she wanted to be an astronaut, or a doctor... or both?

He told me that his own wife worked as a teacher, and that he didn't think it was a horrible thing for a woman to have a career as long as the family life was peachy keen. But, what if she didn't want kids... or want to be married. He was at a loss. He wasn't sure what to say. He mentioned the word "sacrifice" and that all people should consider what is asked of them from the Lord.

Here we have a stand still, because I have never had a one on one visit with God. How would I know what he wants for me and my life? I am a good person, I study, I work hard, and I love the people around me even if they think I am scum. Isn't that more important than doing exactly what some old white guy claiming to be a prophet says?

So... we started on polygamy. Mom was really pissed about this because she has never understood the reasons behind polygamy. She tried. We both did. None of it ever made sense.

"Why would an angel come down from heaven and command Joseph Smith to practice polygamy? "

Bishop replied with, "These are women who were widows and needed help."

Ummm... no.

These were women who were already married to living men. These were GIRLS who were teenagers, two being only 14. What sense does that make?

Bishop kind of went off on a wild tangent for a little bit. He was talking about how men were not as good as women, and that is why polygamy was needed in the celestial kingdom. It really didn't answer my question, but that wasn't new. Excuses are not the same as answers.

Homophobia is rampant in the LDS culture. To the point that the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints is asking it's members to fight to ban gay marriage, including their time and money. Bishie was not a supporter of gay rights (no shocker there) and said that gay people are more than welcome to be in the church as long as they don't act on their sexual desires with the same sex.

I looked right at him. I had a pencil in my hand, and I pointed it at him for effect. I asked him if he "chose" to be straight. How would he feel if someone decided that was wrong, and that he could only remain in the church if he didn't act upon his desires? He didn't really get it. He went on and on about homosexuality being something that was a challenge from God, something like an addiction that could be overcome.

I couldn't believe it.

I talked about Peter and Mary Danzig, and what happened in their case. Peter simply wrote a letter to the editor of the Salt Lake Tribune expressing his compassion for those in the Gay and Lesbian community. He stated that he was a member of the Church, had served a mission, married in the temple, and was a member of the church's orchestra. He disagreed with the message being sent from the leaders of the church. His wife, Mary, stood by him and agreed with his thoughts and his right to share them.

He was soon excommunicated.

If people openly disagree with the church, they are out of there. I keep waiting to be "invited" to my own court of love. This blog certainly isn't in harmony with their gospel... I would actually enjoy that. Maybe I should scatter funeral potatoes and green jello on my front porch and say, "Here bishie bishie! Come and get me! Bring it on!"

We had to end the meeting because I had to get back to Logan. We could have easily debated all night long, and I doubt the sleeping counselor would have noticed or cared. R.S. Pres. bore her testimony one last time and hugged mom and myself, promising to pray for us. I am not sure why that offended me, but it did.

I looked at the bishop and I thanked him for his time. He could have been home with his family, having a dinner and being together. Instead, he was meeting with me at my request. I appreciated that even though it didn't help a whole lot. He tried.

Mom handed the bishop a huge packet of information that we had found from Mormon sources that we had never been told about. Inside that packet was a copy of her resignation letter... already on it's way to Salt Lake City. She was done. She didn't buy it. She was out. I would have loved to see the look of shock on the bishops face when he realized what he was reading...

I told him that I had a million more questions, and I would love to be able to email with him and continue the discussion. I wrote down my email address and handed it to him, and he shook my hand. I thought it was the beginning of a beautiful friendship. I was wrong.

Instead of emailing me like I had asked, he contacted my bishop in Logan and sent him to me over and over for the next 3 weeks. So much for continuing the conversation with him... so much for his word. He just passed me off to the next guy. I was more than angry about it. Still am.

Anyway, there you have it. It took me this long to sit down and type it all out, but it's done.

Andee

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Many moons ago, in March, I had the opportunity to sit down with my Mom's bishop, his first counselor, and her Relief Society President. Mom and I had been planning the meeting for months, and I had made a special trip across the state to be there. I had a notebook full of questions that I had regarding the things I have learned over this past year.

Mom my knew these people, but I didn't. It was, for me, an emotionally charged conversation with strangers. I am still unsure if that made it harder or easier. I certainly knew I should keep my cool because these are the people Mom had to live around. Her community is extremely small, and you can't just hope you don't run into certain people. It just won't work that way.

We planned the meeting at her home instead of agreeing to meet the bishop in his office. We wanted the location to be in our territory instead of his. I don't think he was the kind of guy who would use this kind of thing to his favor, but we didn't want to take the chance. They were guests in her home, a way to have an equal playing field. I certainly didn't want to sit in church pews or uncomfortable church chairs for three hours either. Mom's living room was much more comfortable.

The night before the meeting I sat down in my Mom's brand new office to write out the questions I wanted answers to. I wanted to be prepared, to let them know that I had studied. I knew what I was talking about, and that the usual apologetic phrases like, "Put it on a shelf" were not going to be good enough. We wanted and deserved answers.

I had a hard time sleeping the night before the meeting. I kept going over scenarios of what could happen the next day. I was trying to prepare myself for anything. I have never been that kind of person that could find the right words at the right time. It was more like going over the conversation hours later and thinking, "Damnit, Why didn't I say that?!?!" I wanted the ability to speak my mind and do it well.

One thing I did know was that if they insulted my Mom in any way, or at any point, either by ignorance or on purpose, I would lose my cool. She had been hurt by so many people in her ward, (no, that is not the reason she left the church) that I simply would not tolerate that. Especially in her own home.

The time for the meeting came and went with no car pulling up in her driveway, or noise coming from her doorbell. She had been worried that they wouldn't show up at all, but thankfully they were just running behind. My Dad used to make fun of my Mormon family members who were always late. He called it Mormon Standard time. I took their lateness as a sign that my Dad was there with us in spirit... at least, I would like to think he was there. I kept telling my Mom they were off somewhere praying for protection from the evil apostate and her mother.

They finally arrived.

All of them were still dressed in their Sunday Church clothes (of course) and Mom and I were more than relaxed in jeans and T-shirts. I even had my shoes off. It was quite a contrast looking at the Relief Society President, in her long, light blue, floral print dress with white trim and looking at me chilling out sitting on the floor.

They took seats on her sofa, while I opened my Diet Coke and put it next to me. I still wonder if I should have switched that for a steaming cup of coffee. That might have been a little "in your face" for the tone of respect I wanted to show them.

All three people, the bishop, his counselor, and the Relief Society president made comments about how loving and warm they felt in my Mom's home. It was a nice compliment, and it was probably true, but it was said to butter her up. I couldn't keep the smirk off my face. I tried, but I couldn't. Biting my lip didn't help.

The first thing they wanted to do was open with a prayer. Mom and I expected that. The Relief Society President gave a rehearsed-sounding prayer that asked the Lord to help my Mom and I find the answers we needed in order to be at peace with the gospel. I made a point to make sure they knew I wasn't folding my arms with the rest of them. I switched positions on the floor, took a sip of my beverage, and I was the only one in the room that didn't say, "Amen."

We sat quietly for a moment. No one knew what to do next, so I jumped in and introduced myself. They knew my name, and that I was their ward member's daughter, but that was about it. I told everyone in the room that no matter what I would be respectful to their beliefs if they were respectful to mine.

Then I launched in with my favorite topic. The translation of the Book of Mormon. I tried to keep things light-hearted as I told them about the first time I saw the South Park cartoon made about a Mormon family that moves to South Park, Colorado. The bishop admitted that he had never seen the cartoon, and I got the feeling he hadn't seen it because he thought it was "anti-Mormon."

I went on to explain that when I saw the cartoon version of Joseph Smith translating the plates of gold by using a peep stone in a hat, I was upset that the South Park creators could get it so wrong. I was born and raised in the church... in Utah... Surely I would know how it happened... I had been told the story over and over again, starting as early as when I was a fetus!

I asked him point blank why I wasn't told the truth, why my Mom had spent her entire life in the church and she hadn't known about a seer stone...

I glanced at Mom's Relief Society President. I was curious if she had heard of this before. She was sitting next to the bishop with her hands clasped in her lap with a look that could only be described as "out there." It seemed as if she was physically in front of us, but in her mind she was riding a purple unicorn on a rainbow somewhere. This would continue for most of the meeting.

The bishop first wanted to tell me that he could only speak for himself. The things he said were not officially things the church believed, but things he believed. I could have rolled my eyes right then and there, because the whole purpose of the meeting was to get these official answers. If a bishop didn't have them, who did? Stake President? The prophet himself? I think it's a way of skirting around and being able to backpedal if you make a mistake or say something that isn't true. You said it, not the church, so the church is right.

Sigh.

Bishie went on to say that it didn't matter how the translation happened because it was inspired and from God. I asked him that if it truly didn't matter, why hide it? This was the moment I realized that he was skilled at skirting around the actual questions that were being asked of him. He would state historical facts and go off on tangents that had little to do with the question at hand. He said some facts are unreliable and that we simply needed to have faith.

Eh?

I wasn't getting anywhere, but I did tell him that the stone was used, and he agreed with me. I then asked him why the church uses paintings and drawings that show the translation in a false manner. I hated his answer.

"Those drawings and paintings are personal representation from the artist. They are not official doctrine."

Why then, would you have these incorrect pictures to teach children and investigators?

"Those are just teaching aids, not officially anything."

I didn't say this, but I should have... Would it kill them to depict the events as they actually happened? If we have the wrong paintings, we can get the right ones. Hell, I could give the church a couple internet links that show historical representations of what actually happened. Kind of shows you that they are knowingly sharing half-truths, and that is something many believing Mormons accuse me of!

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My Mom got the house! Yay! She is so excited, and so am I! She will live just a couple blocks away from me instead of having to take a 3 and a half hour drive from the middle of nowhere to see me. Unfortunately I can't make the trip to see her for many reasons... she lives on a military base (and I have to have clearance to get in) and I have no car of my own. I would have to rely on others to take me. Who is going to do that? Not many people. Trust me.

Mom is going through all of her old stuff and throwing away things she doesn't need anymore. She is getting new furniture (slowly) for her new place.

She asked me if I wanted her carton full of old Ensign magazines as a joke, and I jumped at the chance. Right now, I am sitting in front of a giant tupperware storage container full of Ensign magazines. Some of them are still in the protective wrappers. These range from 1999 to 2005, and I can't wait to share some of the "OMG" moments I had while flipping through them.

Here is something that caught my eye this morning, don't worry, there will be plenty more to come!

(About fasting) Immediately after returning home from our church meetings and before closing our fast, we have a family gathering in which we bear our testimonies and express our feelings. As our young children have observed their parents and older siblings bear testimony, we have seen their testimony of the gospel grow and their ability to bear pure testimony increase. We have had many joyous experiences that have bound us together spiritually during this family testimony meeting. Ensign, April 2001, page 51.

Hmm, what can I add to that? Well, if a little kid sees his or her own parents, and siblings bear their testimonies over and over again, they are going to do the same thing... don't you think? I think it's far from a pure testimony of the gospel, it's doing what you are shown. Big difference in my opinion.

More to come... much more. I have to go to work now. Damn.

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Appearances have been very important to most of the Mormons I know. Not all, but most. It wasn't about being the most spiritual person in the room, it was about making sure everyone thought they were the most spiritual person in the room. Big difference. It's like one big game... being better than your neighbor, being in the spotlight for having the best... perfect family.

One of my aunts was queen of this style of thinking. On the outside looking in, she had everything set the way she wanted it. She had her own business, her kids got perfect grades in school, they wore the latest fashions, her home was decorated and spotless, and her family sat in the church pews every Sunday. It was all a show.

Little did anyone know that she was a giant control freak who made decisions for everyone in her family about everything. No one knew her husband dealt with things by taking a more than occasional dose of heroin. Their bishop certainly didn't know... and they passed their temple recommend interviews easily.

Everyone assumed she was the most faithful woman they knew. They thought she was loving, kind, generous, and above all a good person. They didn't know her as well as I did.

When my father was diagnosed with cancer, I was 18 years old and fresh out of high school. I had plans to go to college, but I wanted to put it off so I could be with my Dad until he was healthy again. College was always important to me, but it would always be there. There was a chance my Dad wouldn't. I didn't tell anyone my plans on postponing college, and my aunt asked me to stay with her while I checked out the college in her area. My Dad wanted me to take the trip, so I did it for him.

When I got there, around Christmas, she asked me if I liked pizza. Who doesn't? She was just trying to be a good hostess and I appreciated it. She told me that her kids would be home from their various after-school activities soon, and she always had dinner prepared for them. What a good homemaker. Another one of my aunts arrived, ready to "help" me transition from high school to college. I know they meant well, but I didn't need someone there to hold my hand. I truly believe they wanted to feel as if they were helping my father in some way. The whole experience of him being so sick made us all feel pretty helpless.

Miss Auntie Control's home was absolutely perfect. Nothing was out of place, dusty, or even remotely dirty. The Christmas decorations were something out of a Martha Stewart magazine, she probably made the wreath herself, out of pine cones she found from the tree she planted in the back yard... by herself.

When everyone arrived for dinner, my aunt (the control freak) turned to everyone eating at the bar/counter and mentioned how sorry she was that my father's cancer was terminal and that he only had a few weeks left to live. Here is the thing... she knew that I hadn't been told yet. My Mom and Dad made the decision to tell us after Christmas, and they wanted it to come from them. Both of my parents made it perfectly clear to her that my brothers and I didn't know he wasn't going to get better. They also made it perfectly clear that they wanted to be the ones to break the news to us kids. I guess she just didn't give a damn. Merry Christmas Andee, Happy Holidays, your Dad is dying. Would you like another slice of pizza? What a bitch.

I must have gone pale, or possibly looked like I was about to cry... but I refused to break down. She looked at me with obvious fake sympathy saying something like, "Andee... you knew... right?" She isn't a very good actress. Luckily, I am.

I played it off, and I didn't want to give her the satisfaction. I pretended like I knew it all along. She wasn't going to control me, or my reactions. It's funny, but within the span of 10 minutes I got a glimpse into the mind of a woman who didn't give a damn who she hurt, as long as she was the one in control. It was a tad bit scary.

The night went on and we eventually went out to do some Christmas shopping. I picked out a couple outfits that I liked (it's not like I was without a job and penniless... I was working full time, and helping my parents when or if they needed it. I was a grown up, making my own financial decisions) and she would make comments like, "Are you sure you want to spend your money on that?" or "Maybe you should wait to buy that..." Was it any of her business? Did I ask for her opinion?

We went to the local university and scouted the music program that I knew I would have wanted to be a part of. I only half-way went through the motions, knowing that I didn't want to get emotionally attached to the school because I knew I wasn't going to be able to go... especially now that I had the knowledge of my Dad's terminal cancer. Dearest Auntie began telling me what classes I should be taking, and what I should be planning for in my future. Whatever lady.

I was helping them wrap their Christmas gifts, and they started in on discussing the church and it's many blessings. The only reason they were able to buy such nice Christmas presents was because they paid their tithing, they said. The only reason they had such a nice home due to the 10% they paid every single month. I didn't want to cause trouble for my Dad and his sisters during this time, so I kept my mouth shut. Those who read this blog regularly know how hard that was for me.

The weekend eventually came to an end, and I drove all the way back home. It was about a 3 and a half hour drive. I spent the whole time crying, because I knew I would see my Dad that day... but would I see him the next?

My Dad ended up passing away on January 17, 1998. My Mom was distraught, and I can't even bring up a word that could come close to describing the mental and emotional state I was in at the time. My father was an amazing man. He wasn't perfect, but he and my mother taught me what being a good person means. I knew I would miss him, and I knew I wanted to make him proud of me.

Mom started attending church again. She was taking classes to become temple ready so she could get my father sealed to us in the temple. She told everyone on both sides of the family that it was important for her to do this. She was raised strictly in the church, and she felt at the time that getting to the temple was the only way to see her husband again.

A few weeks later we get a phone call from Auntie Control. "We are planning on going to the Manti temple. It's going to be on this date _____. We would like you and the kids to be there." I could have killed her. Really. She knew that my Mom was going to take care of things, but she had to get herself involved. She took that moment away from my Mother, and even though I didn't believe in the church (even then) I knew it would be good for my Mom to do it. It would help her heal and move on.

Mom, brother and I drove to Manti. We were unable to take part in the temple sealing because we didn't have recommends. Auntie knew this. Do you think she gave a crap? No. What were her first words when she saw us? "Since you guys can't go inside, it would be great if you could watch the little kids for us." What? Are you fucking kidding me? You want me to wait outside a religious building that you claim I am not righteous enough for, while you do work for my father, and on top of that you want me to watch your little brats? What the hell is wrong with you? What the hell is wrong with a church that would ask that (referring to the part where families are separated from the righteous and the sinners.)

A few months after I moved to Orlando, I got a phone call from my Mom. She wasn't sure how to tell me the news she had... but she found a way. My uncle, dear auntie control's husband, was found in a coma on the streets of Las Vegas. Police say he was attempting to buy heroin from a drug dealer, but the buy went wrong and the dealer shot him full of some kind of drug and robbed him. He was left in the Las Vegas sun for hours and hours before he was found. Luckily, he survived and is now doing fine. As far as I know, he has beaten his drug habit and I sincerely wish him the best. A few of the people I know said, "If I had to live with her, I would be hooked on drugs, too!" A little harsh, but sort of true.

What bothers me is that she and her husband walked into the temple grounds in Manti, she told me it would be "great" if I could watch everyone's kids while she went inside, and she didn't deserve to be there.

This is where the appearances theme fits in. She was more concerned with what other people would think of her than actually believing and following through with her supposed beliefs that the temple was for worthy people only. She knew she was hurting us by leaving us outside that day, and it didn't even phase her. She was fine as long as everyone thought she was the perfect person she pretended to be.

I am not saying that all Mormons are this way. I know this story and these events wouldn't possibly happen to other people in the same manner, but I truly believe that the church puts pressure on it's members to maintain that constant state of perfection. I know many people will disagree, and that is fine... but my mind immediately goes to the talk that Julie B. Beck made at General Conference last October. Here are a couple of my favorite quotes:

They bring daughters in clean and ironed dresses with hair brushed to perfection; their sons wear white shirts and ties and have missionary haircuts. These mothers know they are going to sacrament meeting, where covenants are renewed. These mothers have made and honor temple covenants. They know that if they are not pointing their children to the temple, they are not pointing them toward desired eternal goals. These mothers have influence and power.

Latter-day Saint women should be the very best in the world at upholding, nurturing, and protecting families. I have every confidence that our women will do this and will come to be known as mothers who "knew."

Is this what made my aunt turn into the mega-controlling uber-insane crazy woman who didn't care who she hurt? No. But it certainly didn't help matters, did it?

Andee

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I spent a quiet day with my Mom today. We took a couple strolls down main street, and I brought my camera with me! (Of course... like I ever go ANYWHERE without it!) Here are some of the shots I took today...

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Standing up for what I believe in has cost me dearly. I know in my heart and mind I am doing the right thing, but seeing my friends and family treat my Mother and I so harshly because we decided to leave is one of the hardest things I have ever had to do.

Why should I be punished by those pretending to be faithful servants to God? Who are they to judge? Why does it cost to leave Mormonism? I found an archived thread on Recovery from Mormonism's short topics about this very thing.

People lose a lot when they decide to be open about questioning and leaving the church, especially if they live in Utah or Idaho. Not only are your family relationships in jeopardy, but your business, career, home, finances and friendships as well.

People have lost their businesses after leaving the church. Suddenly their customers don't want to support their business after learning of apostasy or resignation. Could you imagine going through financial distress simply because you don't agree on religion with the people in the community? It's no wonder so many people "pretend" and "play the game" while not believing it in their hearts and souls. In their minds, the price would be too big. The financial stability for their family is a risk they can't take. Others decide to move their business elsewhere or start over. It's sad that this is even an issue.

Imagine getting passed over for a promotion you really deserve simply because you resigned from the Mormon faith. Sure, you could appeal the decision to the company, but it would be nearly impossible to prove. It's obvious to everyone when it happens, isn't it?

How about your home and relationships with your neighbors? Suddenly your kids' friends are not allowed to play over at your house anymore. Why is that? I have even heard of people telling their children who to mow lawns for! "No, Jimmy... don't mow that lawn over there. I don't care if they pay you the same as everyone else... they are not in the church anymore. We need to stay away from them." It's insane.

Everything changes when you leave the church. Suddenly, you and your entire life are suddenly up for conversation and debate. People talk about you like you have committed horrific sins. They assume the worst about you because you are not one of them. They take it personally.

Demand More left a comment here the other day that stuck with me. I hope she doesn't mind me sharing it...

"I've noticed that when a family member leaves the church the rest of the family is so utterly baffled, they forget that you are still the same person with feelings and opinions. They tend to think "Oh they don't care anymore about this or that person" because they assume if you did care you would never leave the church and give up your blessings of sealing.

I really think they just cannot wrap their head around a person leaving so they take it as a personal insult, like you are saying they are unintelligent becaue you are saying it is untrue. They pity us while we pity them."

I try hard not to pity anyone. I know everyone has the ability to make their own choices, but I can't help but wonder if some Mormons, especially the women, would leave if they knew the whole story. Would they be happier?

My family members have basically decided that Mom and I are out of the family. Since not receiving notification of the death of a family friend, we feel like we have been punched in the stomach. Why is it that religion is such a big deal?

My personality, my heart, and my goals haven't changed. Why must my family assume they have? Why must they assume I am some kind of contaminated person? Frustration doesn't even begin to describe it. Not even close. I guess to some people, love isn't unconditional... and if that is the case, it's their loss.

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Well, it's happened. My family has finally come to the conclusion that my Mom and I are no longer important to them because we left the church.

My grandfather used to drink heavily. When my grandma was pregnant with my Mom he decided to quit drinking and start attending church regularly. He became a fanatic, and Grandma didn't have a choice in the matter. Everything was suddenly about the Mormon Church. The rules in the house changed immediately, and since she was "just a woman, the wife," she didn't have any say in the matter.

Grandma didn't care for the church. She thought the whole thing was pretty laughable (like I do) and only went to church when she had to.

Once, while cleaning the kitchen, she found a coffee pot she used for making coffee for her side of the family when they would visit. Grandpa saw her with this and became so angry that he pushed her down a flight of stairs (while still pregnant with my Mom). He was known to hit her, and control her in every way possible. If she didn't comply, she would be punished somehow. If she needed money for something, like tires for her car, she had to earn the money herself. He wouldn't pay for it. Grandma had many jobs over the years, and when my Mom was small she worked at a restaurant. At the time, people could smoke in the restaurant, and Grandpa (along with the rest of the closed-minded people in the community) judged her because of where she worked. The money she earned she needed. The money she earned payed for lunches for her kids at school. Grandpa wouldn't pay for that, either.

When my Mom was growing up, they had to attend church every Sunday. There was no question about it. My grandpa made sure that his daughters knew they were to grow up and know how to cook and clean. The boys didn't have to do any of this. Once, my Mom had borrowed the family car to go and see a friend, Grandpa caught up with her on the road and told her to come back home because there was dust on the piano. It was woman's work. Once, one of my uncles wanted to move but his wife didn't. Grandpa told him that he could do whatever he wanted because he was a priesthood holder, and the wife should shut up and do as she is told.

When my uncle was married in the temple, Grandma didn't have her recommend. Grandpa had his. Grandma stood outside those temple doors missing a huge event in her child's life, while Grandpa got to see everything. She cried the whole day. So much for those powers of discernment, right? So much for the priesthood leaders seeing that Grandpa was abusive and hurtful to his family with the help of the Holy Ghost. He got to feel important because he was "good enough" to go inside.

When my cousin passed away at the age of 12 he told my aunt that she had better change her life or she would never see her daughter again. Gee, thanks for that little tidbit of love there. How could you say that to a grieving mother? How could you? Who the hell was he to judge anyone? In his mind, he was the priesthood holding father, and he knew it all.

Grandma went through the temple, and told my Mom how weird it was. Mom was pretty into the church at times, and didn't put too much merit into Grandma's words at the time. Their family was sealed in the temple, and when Grandma was buried, she was buried in her temple clothes. I am not too sure she would have really wanted that, but thats just how it was.

A few days ago, someone close to our family passed away. Grandpa and other family members know about Mom and I questioning the church, and decided that we didn't need to know this person had passed away. My Mom practically grew up with this person, but that didn't seem to matter. My Mom had to miss the viewing as well as the funeral simply because she didn't know. Anyone could have called her or sent her a quick email. She received nothing.

Mom has asked Grandpa to call me many times. I know I could be the one to pick up the phone and call him, but I have always been the one to do that. I made the decision a couple months ago that if he wanted to have a relationship with me, he would have to put in some effort, too. He hasn't. Is this because I am not living up to his expectations? Is this because I am 29 years old, happily single, and exercising my mind and rights?

I can only imagine the pain my Mom is in right now. How hard it would have been for me to be treated this way from one of my parents... She is an amazing person. She is smart, thoughtful, and she has more heart in her pinkie finger than others do in their entire body. She would do anything for anyone. She is always there to help, no matter what. What did she do to deserve this kind of treatment? She questioned the church's authority. Pretty sad, don't you think?

I suppose Mom and I could take this as a sign that we are not important to them anymore. That we are not loved as much as the family members who regularly attend church, or just believe in it. I don't think that is the case. I believe that my Grandfather has issues with control, and when he loses control he can't handle it. I do think that he loves my Mom and I very much, but he doesn't know how to get over the issues of us leaving the church.

I just don't understand how the love of a church can overtake the love of your own wife, children, and grandchildren. He won't even call us when someone passes away?

I can't get over how angry I am right now... and how fast my anger turns to sadness and hurt. How could they hurt my Mom like this? How could they? And they still consider themselves good people? Good Mormons? It's too hypocritical for words. It's their loss, it really is. They have no idea how blessed they are to have her.

It's not completely the church's fault, and I am not claiming it is. This is who Grandpa is, it's his personality and how HE was raised... but, he was also conditioned to do these things from the church. He was taught of the priesthood in the church.

Many Mormons I know would never be this hurtful to their families. This isn't a characteristic of all Mormons. This is a characteristic of a controlling personality put together with Mormonism... it can get out of control.

I am done. I am not going to keep putting myself out there and be rejected over and over again.

As my Mom as said many times, I love him, but I certainly don't respect him. I couldn't agree with her more.

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