We place my mother into a nursing facility on Tuesday, and one of the results of this is that I won't need to be a stay-at-home, unable to leave my disabled mother alone. The thing I have missed most from this lack of being able to get out is going to church. I've been practically inactive for the past two years, and this has made me very sad and frustrated. I need my Mormon fix.
Like most Mormon kids, I was raised with the idea that I'd be going on a mission for the church. It's like an LDS rite-of-passage. Some kids begin to save for their mission with their own Mission Fund when they are children (we pay our own expenses while on the mission). I was sent to Ireland.
Now, I've never bad-mouthed the church when I wasn't a member, I just said that I was too extreme to be a member. I didn't know what I believed about god, if anything. I went through a big Jewish phase in which I was going to convert to Judaism--this was before I discovered that I have Jewish heritage on my mother's side. I've always felt a connection with the missionary lads, whenever I saw them in the streets, and so I was happy when they knocked on my door. I invited them to come and give me the six missionary discussions, but I warned them that there was no way I would ever return to the church.
And yet I knew that I would return. I didn't know how I would do it, and I knew it wouldn't be easy. But punk rock has taught me to accept everything about myself, and Oscar Wilde has taught me that "Whatever is realised is right." I could not deny this supernatural experience of an answered prayer--to deny it would mean I was a hypocrite. So I began to go to church, and at first it was like stepping into a Twilight Zone episode, it was so far removed from what my life had been for over two decades. But I grew to love it, and then, two years later, came the happy day of my re-baptism.
|[wearing my Ensign magazine t-shirt shewing Joseph Smith]|