A God Shaped Hole

I grew up being taught that the worst type of people on Earth were not the rapists, nor the murderers, but the atheists. My uncle on my father's side was an atheist and every flaw he naturally had as a human, was automatically blamed on his atheism.

He gambled.
He drank.
He didn't volunteer.
He never bought us birthday cards.
He got a divorce.
He wasn't loyal to his wife and married the lady he was rumored to have left her for.

::Gasp::

As a rational adult, I don't see how any of those things on their own or as a whole immediately call him out as atheist. I think those traits can apply to any human, even a Mormon one.

But I was taught that my uncle did those things because he had a god shaped hole that he was trying to fill.  He tried to fill it with vices and he would never fill them until he found the truth of the gospel.

My uncle was raised by Catholic parents. Italian Catholics. They didn't go to church the same way I did growing up. They went on Christmas and Easter. And possibly Ash Wednesday, if I recall correctly. That was it, short of a Communion, or wedding.

And, as a child, I almost felt like my grandparents must have failed him if the belief in god didn't even stick with him. My aunt was still Catholic and my father had been converted to Mormonism.  But they knew god was real, even if my aunt had everything else all wrong.

But not my uncle. He was a lost sheep. And because of that, my mother did not want me to get too close to him. Atheists are the worst, they can use their logic, reasoning and anti-Mormon propaganda to pull even the most devout of Christ's followers away from the gospel.

So I never got to know my uncle the same way I was able to get close to my Mormon family members. I saw him every Sunday night at my grandmother's house for our weekly spaghetti dinner.

My aunt would buy us gifts for Christmas and birthdays, and write his name on the card beside hers. My mom made sure to tell us that they weren't really from him, our aunt was just trying to be nice to him.

Granted, my uncle was only about 12 years older than I was. So when he didn't buy me a gift for my 8th birthday, I don't truly believe it was because he was a heartless, soulless atheist. I believe it was more than likely because he was a 20 year old college student, focusing on mid-terms and girls. But you wouldn't have received that answer had you asked my 8 year old self.

My mother did her best to make sure myself and three younger half brothers knew that everything wrong with my non-Mormon family was due to them not being Mormon.

Grandpa smoked because he didn't have the gospel.

Grandma drank coffee because she didn't know the truth.

Our uncle gambled because he didn't have the light of Christ.

Our aunt lived with her boyfriend because she wasn't Mormon.

Any good traits or strong examples they set for us, were swept under the rug. As though everything 'bad' thing should be attributed to them not having the gospel of Christ, and every good thing was just a silly coincidence, they were acting as a follower of the gospel and unaware, or was because they were trying to showboat.

But my uncle was always the worst offender. I sometimes think that it was because being an atheist prevented him from having a way to repent. Did my mother feel like he couldn't truly be sorry for any wrong doing because he never repented? Or did the option of repentance being non-existent, make him come across as a narcissistic asshole?  I am not sure. But I do know that he was the example of the type of person that was definitely going to hell.

Was he a rapist? Nope. (You can repent for that.)
Was he a murderer? Nope. (You can repent for that too.)
Was he a pathological liar? Nope. (Another 'repentable' offense.)

He was an atheist. And all my opinions of atheists were formed at a rather young age, all based on my mother's biases. All of which made it so much more difficult for me to come to terms with facing my own cognitive dissonance.  And made it damn near impossible to utter the words aloud, that I am an atheist.

My uncle is an awesome man. He is an awesome father and an awesome person. I hate how I was raised to see him in such a negative light, all because he didn't believe in a god or gods. I hate how I was raised to look at my Catholic family with such disdain for their beliefs. I hate that I wasn't raised to love them as purely as I loved my Mormon relatives. I don't understand how my mother thought that would be a wonderful idea. It only hurt me, disabled me, and stunted my growth as a good person.

Judging people, even people you love, based on something so trivial, is mind boggling to me.

I hope that I can raise my daughters to love freely, without having to view people through a kaleidoscope of labels.

Is my Marriage Recorded in Heaven?

10 years ago today, my best friend and I eloped to Las Vegas.

We had decided 4 days prior to get married and, for a brief moment, I had visions of wedding plans and bridal showers. Then I remembered who my mother was and I realized that those things I'd been dreaming about since I was a little girl were not going to happen for me.

The problem? I still identified as a Mormon, and my best friend was not.

So my options were to get him baptized immediately, then wait the mandatory year before we could be sealed in the temple, or marry him outside of the temple and hope he would join the church eventually, so then after he accepted the gospel, and a year had passed after his baptism, we could be sealed in the temple.

I knew that the first option was not going to happen. It takes time for someone to accept the gospel. And Mormons aren't about baptizing people without making sure they were going to be committed tithing payers the rest of their lives.

The second option didn't look good either. I didn't want to end up paying for two 'weddings'. I also wasn't sure that my buddy would ever want to be Mormon. Funny thing about that was that I didn't really care. I had been a Jack-Mormon for the three years prior and had already started to lose the foundation of my belief system. I loved him and I wanted to be married to him.  Sucks, huh?

I realized shortly after we decided to get married that my love for him and my simple want to be his wife was going to cause drama and 'hurt' between my mother and I. (She would pretend to be the victim and end up hurting my heart.)

I had know him since we were 12. He and I went to Junior High School together. We were both in High School Marching Band and Color Guard. We were both in Concert Band. We would walk home together after school and he would carry my overstuffed backpack for me. We never dated then, but we were always really good friends. He was trust worthy, loyal, funny and kind, and I had fallen in love with him. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him.

After we decided to get married, I started to get excited, but that quickly turned into concern about my mother's reaction.  Her capability to be truly happy for me was clouded by her belief in certain principles of her (our) religion.

I didn't tell her about my plans when I returned home that night. I started to think that not telling our parents would be best. Instead of setting a date for the next year, I figured we would 'sneak out' on Saturday and call our parents after the fact, as to beg forgiveness instead of seeking permission.

I knew my mother would rather me marry a lying, cheating ass of a man, as long as he was Mormon over a wonderful non-Mormon. I tried my mom's plan for me; I had dated Mormon guys, Return Missionaries, and boys about to leave for their missions. I was not impressed.

My plan to keep my big mouth shut was going swimmingly for an entire day, until my future husband told me that he had told his mother and she was so excited and wanted to come along. I felt like a deer in headlights.  I didn't know what my next move should be. Should I avoid drama now and invite my parents? Or should I continue with my plan and just never, ever tell them? The latter choice was still looking like the best option.

My future husband, being the loving guy he is, strongly recommended that I tell my parents and invite them to come too. So I did.  I could see the disappointment on my mother's face. My dad seemed taken aback. Almost like he couldn't believe it.  My mom kept asking if I was sure. She was truly concerned about him not being Mormon. She kept telling me that even though he was willing to marry me that wasn't a guarantee that he would get baptized for me. (You know, after you give him the milk, there was no guarantee he would join your cult.) I kept telling her I was sure and she ended up pouting the rest of the evening in her room.

They avoided the question of joining us on Saturday the rest of the night. It wasn't until the next evening, two days before I was hoping to elope in peace, that my mother told me that they weren't going to be able to go. She wanted me to delay the wedding day, she wanted me to pray about it longer. She wanted me to give god more time to talk me out of it or something. I started to wish I hadn't told her. I didn't want to keep living my life around her.

She was still a champ about it. Even though she wasn't going to go, and even though I wasn't marrying a Mormon boy, she still took me out to buy a wedding dress. Of course, it had to be temple appropriate, so it wasn't the one I wanted. But it was still better than the simple white blouse I had purchased for myself.

My future husband and his mother picked me up from my parents house that Saturday morning and we headed to Las Vegas. My mother spent the morning crying and refusing to take any pictures for me.  I left the house trying to shake off the guilt my mother piled on me for making one of the best decisions of my life.

My future husband's mother paid for the entire weekend. She even made sure we had our pictures taken so we would have that keepsake.  I guess she wasn't as upset that her son was marrying outside their non-denominational Christianity as my mother was that I was marrying outside of my cult.

We were married at 11:45 pm that night. Just myself, my new husband and his mother were present for our wedding. (We opted out of having an Elvis.)

I wish I could have had a wedding like most of my friends had. One I could have planned out, stressed about and had wedding showers for. I wish my family would have supported that. But I know that if I had planned out a wedding, my mother would have spent everyday trying to talk me out of my decision. She would have argued and debated me on every choice that was made. Just like she did with my dress and my choice of husband.

My mother-in-law mentioned that she wanted to throw us a reception for family and friends after we eloped. My mother seemed excited about it. Then the topic of alcohol arose. My mother-in-law wanted wine, beer and champagne at the reception; and my mother lost her shit. She wasn't going to help plan and pay for a party where alcohol would be offered. For a moment I thought my husband and I were going to have one 'dry' and one 'fun' reception. But no. We ended up not only with two mothers who wouldn't speak to each other, but also ended up without a reception. My mom then held the idea of a reception hostage. She said when we decided to 'really get married' (she meant in the temple), then she would invest in a reception.

I had to take a step back and refocus myself. I was legally bound to my love and I now shared his name. That was all I really wanted and everything else would have been a bonus.  And having to deal with my mother and her guilt for anything else wasn't worth it.

For the next few years, my mom would ask when my husband and I were going to get sealed in the temple. You know, because our 'Earthly Marriage' wouldn't count in heaven. If I wanted to be married in the after life, we were going to need to get sealed in a temple. It was the only way a marriage survives death. And for a while, my husband and I spoke about possibly getting sealed one day. We debated going to the Las Vegas Temple, to add some sentimentality to it all. But before we even got close to that, everything that was once important to me, became a bunch of silliness.

So a decade has passed. I am still married to my best friend. And it is okay that we never had a celebration of our love with our family and friends. We have each other, we have made it through so much together and I know we can make it through anything. And it's okay that we are only married until 'death do us part', mostly because death has the final say in every relationship anyway, no matter what anyone says about it here on Earth. And I know that we are going to cram every wonderful thing we can into the life we have here and now.

Happy Anniversary Dustin. I love you more than I thought was humanly possible.

Celebrating 4 years!

I have been free of the grasps of religion for four years now.

It wasn't instantaneous like I ofttimes enjoy thinking it was. It's been a slow work in progress. But four years ago today, in the darkness of my bedroom, I let that edifying thought parade through my head: I am an atheist.  I knew it was true the moment I allowed myself to dwell on it. And every day since I have let that sweet freedom live in my heart.

I know some atheists have always been non believers. I know some atheists don't call themselves atheists. Not every atheist is angry, not every atheist is nice. When I first came to the realization that I was atheist, I wanted to badly to belong to the atheist group, the atheist mothers, the atheist society of intellectual hierarchy. It took me a long time to realize that groupings just don't exist in atheism the way that it does in religion.

It was difficult to deal with the sudden and inevitable sense of loneliness. I was a stay at home mother in a brand new city, in a brand new state, in a brand new region of the country.  It wasn't the most opportune time to realize that I was atheist, one more thing to isolate myself even more than moving 2000 miles from home already had done.

Four years has gone by so quickly. Time has given me exactly what I needed in order to settle into my new, yet older, self. It was terrifying at first, a fact that I had finally accepted was now the elephant in my head. I tiptoed around telling my husband. Atheism isn't an easy thing to sugar coat. Especially when I had to tell the man who started out not Mormon, but had been baptized because of me. Yeah, I felt ashamed for deciding that the path I urged him to go down years prior was a path I no longer wanted to traipse along. We had brought two children into the world with the understanding that we were going to raise them to believe in a god. And now that they were already here, I was putting a immediate halt on any and all god talk, and wanted to throw it into park since I had decided on a completely different journey for them.

As scary as it first seemed, everything since that day has been beyond worth it. The response that I received from my husband was a humbling one. He said he has loved me since we were 12 and he would love me until we die and if there was life after that, he would love me then. He let me know that his love for me wasn't based on my belief in anything, he loved me because of so much more than my choice in religion. I felt silly being timid about telling him, he has always stood by my side, and I know he always will. My children were too young and I hadn't started indoctrinating them, so it wasn't a change for them. I do love hearing my children think about things rationally; debating ideas with two young elementary school children instead of telling them 'because I said so' has been oddly educational for me. (And them I hope). I never had imagined I would be that kind of mother.

As I have mentioned before, I found a lot of support online during the hardest period in losing my religion. I didn't decide to be atheist and then subsequently tossed Mormonism in one fell swoop.  My journey started as a young child of Mormon parents who built this wall of 'faith' up for me and as a twenty something my journey took a turn in a new direction with that wall being taken down one brick at a time by doubt and research.  The wall wasn't completely down before I realized I was an atheist. I looked for a god before I realized there isn't one. I tried to 'save' the building blocks of what my parents had put so much effort into building.  But once I realized that what they had built for me had no sustenance, I couldn't help but admit my atheism and continue to raze what little was left.

Now, four years later I am overjoyed to say that all traces of  the myths I once believed in are all distant, faint memories. Broadcasting my atheism is less of a fear and more of a thing of pride. And nothing brings me more joy than hearing my kids ask each other questions about how the world works, and when they don't know, they say 'let's google it' and come running over to me for help on the computer. 

I thought I needed a network of atheists to feel like I still belonged to something bigger than myself. But I found that isn't true. Atheists are everywhere. Non believers make up about 16% of America, maybe more, which is more than the percentage of Mormons. And as much as it gives me comfort to know that I am not alone in my non belief in gods, and I know I have been able to pull knowledge and strength from online atheist communities, I was able to find myself in the loneliness. Which I find comfort in, because even though I knew the loneliness would pass, I found relief in the fact that a god never appeared through it all. The loneliness I felt was pure unadulterated loneliness, so as I walked through the darkened room looking for a sign of a higher being, I found myself.  

And I know that without the loneliness, I would never have learned to rely on myself.  Which is something I never learned how to do in Mormonism.

My Patriarchal Blessing

Every Mormon child looks forward to receiving their Patriarchal Blessing from their Stake's Patriarch.

To help that sentence make sense, let me explain. First, the word Stake. Think of a Parish; Mormons are divided up into Wards (congregations), which is based on geography. I attended Brea 1st Ward growing up. Some of the friends who went to school with me were in my Ward, but some attended Brea 3rd Ward, which met at the same building, but at a different time. Now Brea is a city in California and it had enough Mormons dwelling within city limits to warrant three Wards.

Now if you took those three Wards, plus a handful of others from neighboring cities, they make up a Stake. For example, the Brea Wards and the Placentia Wards made up the Placentia Stake.  Every Stake or region has a patriarch.  Still following? Good.

A patriarch is a man that is 'called of god' and is the only one who can bestow a Patriarchal Blessing. He is usually an older gentleman, who has been a Bishop before and possibly even a Stake President.  It's a big deal to get one, because you are promised that, if you live righteously and follow the gospel, the blessings that the patriarch promises you will come true.

A fun fact: The church used to charge $1 for the blessing back in the 1800s, and bumped the price up to $2 (which was like $50) before they forbid charging for them in the early 1900s.

Now, I know what you are thinking; maybe images of Tarot Cards or fortune tellers are popping up in your head. But allow me to reassure you that the church frowns upon those kinds of thoughts.  That stuff is silliness, this patriarch stuff is totally for real.

To be fair, the blessing is based upon Jacob's blessings to his sons. (Genesis 47:29-49:32) Though I am pretty sure Jacob didn't charge...

 The patriarch that gave me my blessing was Patriarch Ray Lowe. I was given my Patriarchal Blessing on November 15th 1994. I was 14. I was excited, and it was expected of me to go.



It reads:

"(My full maiden name), by virtue of the Holy priesthood vested in me and in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ, I gratefully and humbly lay my hands upon your head this night and pronounce upon you a patriarchal blessing. This blessing will be a means of comfort to you, be a guide, a source of strength and faith as you listen to the words that come to you through the power of the priesthood.

Your life here is an important part of your journey back to your Heavenly Father. Because of the setting and nature of our mortality we are faced with many decisions and with many temptations, but you will know that the Lord knows and loves you and knows the end from the beginning and thus those things which will come to you will be calculated to give you experience, to help you grow in your faith and testimony, to give you direction so that you will live the life that will accrue to you the blessing of those who are faithful.

Your existence in the premortal life has much meaning for you. You were found worthy and faithful and thus have the privilege of coming to earth in this important time when the Kingdom of God has been established in the last days for the last time, peopled with those who have the spirit of Christ within them and a desire to be teachable and humble, to be led and directed by the Holy Spirit to respond to those principles of righteousness that they may find joy in this life and be prepared and qualified to return to our Heavenly Father.

You are of the House of Israel and through this heritage you are rightfully worthy of the blessings of Abraham, Isacc, and Jacob, and especially through the lineage of Ephraim comes to you the privilege of being a member of the Kingdom of God with great responsibility to live your life in an exemplary way with great love for your fellow beings and with an understanding that what you do is important in building the Kingdom of God on the earth.

You have received many gifts from your Heavenly Father, not the least of which is a love for others, faith in the Savior Jesus Christ, a knowledge of the reality of your Heavenly Father and of His great purposes.So I counsel you to continue to study faithfully and deeply, prayerfully, that this great understanding may increase to fill your whole soul, that you may have the courage and strength to make the proper decisions as you go through this life.

You have a heritage from those who have gone before, even your parents, your grandparents, and so on and many of the things you enjoy this day come from them, through their faithfulness, through their desire to bring to their posterity a way of life, the way to life eternal.

You will be a leader among your friends and associates in your immediate surroundings. You will be and influence for good. You will lead them to do good and be an example of righteousness. You will learn that the calling that you have in the Kingdom of God is to prepare yourself to teach the gospel through precept and example and to prepare yourself to teach you very own, even your children, those who will come to you as gifts from God. You will have the privilege of going to the House of the Lord, eve the temple, there to receive understanding and learning and an increase in your faith through the gifts of the Lord to those who qualify themselves for those great priesthood blessings.

I commend you for your sweetness, that in your tender years you have been willing to comply with those commandments which the Lord has given, for being honest and upright and clean and pure, being willing to live the law of chastity. And now as you are at an age in preparation for seeking greater learning in your schooling, I counsel you to apply yourself well, to listen to the teachers and to discern truth from error, and to base your growth and your decisions upon righteous principles.

I bless you in your home that you may be kind and considerate. You will do your part to make it a place of love and peace. You will be a steward over many things both physical and spiritual. You will can for those things properly and do your part to have a home of order and love, a home of glory, a home of God.

I bless you that you may seek those who need friendship; be a friend to all. Live the principles of righteousness and by so doing you will be a blessing to those who know you. If you will continue to be teachable and to prepare yourself in all things, the Lord will call you to be an emissary in His name, to carry this great message to those who know it not. You can be in your own right, a savior on Mt. Zion. At this tender age you may also have the privilege of seeking out understanding and knowledge of those who have gone before, particularly those of your own line, to know who they are and if they have not received the blessing of life, the gospel principles, the saving ordinances, it will be your right to prepare those things necessary so they may receive this great gift from you through the blessings of the Holy Ghost and the power of the priesthood.

I bless you that you may learn the things that are important are those things which will help you to be a friend to others, to make that area of your life in which you will spend the most time, even your home, a place of comfort and cleanliness and joy, where the spirit of the Lord will bring light and warmth as each day begins and ends with prayer. And you will seek a companion who will be equal to you and possess the same righteous goals to be truthful to the principles of the gospel and to establish an eternal family. These blessings are great.

There are many ways in which we may serve. If you desire to develop your talents and abilities to do things for the blessing of others you will have great joy therein.

I commend you for the preparation in your life and would exhort you to be aware that the next few years are very important. If you will follow through and listen to your teachers, priesthood leaders and parents as they attempt to teach you by example and precept those things which are eternal, you will prayerfully seek obedience to those righteous principles which come to you. You will be strengthened and blessed to overcome all temptation of evil, you will be safe in the hands of the Lord, you will walk peacefully through this life on the pathway of righteousness, knowing that Satan will not have power over you greater than you have power to resist and that you will be able to fulfill your earthly stewardship here and rejoice in the peace of the Lord as you are called home to receive that great reward to be with Him.

I pronounce these blessings upon you knowing that you have much to do and you have been given the qualifications and the ability to fulfill all of these requirements-- going through this life peaceful and happy and content to know that the Lord knows you and loves you and desires all that is good for you.

I bless you that you may be able to listen to your teachers in seminary and institute and that you will seek the areas of understanding. God will bless you in all your desires in righteousness.

I send you forth with the blessing that all is well and that you will be able to find much strength in the knowledge that the truth is here, that God is in the heavens and that our Savior Jesus Christ has made that great sacrifice, the atonement that we will live again.

I seal upon you these blessings together with all others which are rightly yours through your obedience and send you forth in the name of Jesus Christ, amen."

Now, I was told to keep this to myself and not to share it, ever. The one exception would be my one day husband. It's hard to keep things mysterious and unique if it's out for the world to see. So there it is. My personal horoscope blessing. Generic? Maybe. Can apply to almost anybody? Sure. But trust the church when they say that, "the blessings' fulfillment are often conditioned on members' faithfulness to the church, helping keep members obeying the church leaders and blaming themselves instead of the patriarchs' accuarcy when the promises are not fulfilled." So if the blessing ends up being wrong or misleading, it's not the patriarchs fault, it's yours.

Making Priorities

 

I try not to dwell on the tender feelings I have about cutting ties with my family. Sometimes I want to blame them for everything, and other times, I feel like everything happened due to my decisions. I know that I am where I am due to a mixture of choices on their part, as well as mine. But sometimes the emotions just get the best of me.

Choices, no matter how trivial they may seem at the time, sometimes change the course of things so drastically, that there is no way to return to the course that was once planned.



My brother asked his girlfriend to marry him in May of 2008. I like to think that was an awesome decision. She was sweet, pretty, funny and loving. They were sealed in the Newport California Temple in September 2008.  I had the privilege of throwing her a Bridal Shower at a local Tea Parlor a few weeks before the wedding. (I made sure they had herbal tea before booking). 

The thing about his marriage to his now wife that broke my heart is that, even though I was Mormon, so was my husband, and so was my youngest brother, that we couldn't be present at the temple sealing. Heck, we weren't even allowed inside the temple.

My middle brother was able to see his older brother get married because he had served a mission and had temple garments, as well as a valid Temple Recommend. What is a Temple Recommend? Good question.

A Temple Recommend is require to gain entry to a Mormon Temple. You need to interview with your Bishop (he is like a pastor) and he determines whether you are worthy to enter into the 'House of the Lord', or as most call it, The Temple. If, lets say, you have had a beer and a few packs of cigarettes, he may decline to give you a Temple Recommend, or lets say that you killed your brother, he may also find you unworthy for the temple. Or in my parents case, they were behind on paying the church their tithing, so the Bishop told them that he would not give them a valid Temple Recommend to see their son get married until they caught up.

I am sure most people are familiar with the word tithing. But in the Mormon church, you are required to give 10% of your income to the church. I remember sitting in the Clerk's office at the end of 1997, as a 17 year old, going over my tithing receipts to be certain that I had paid at least 10% of my $4.25/hr pay to the church.

So when my brother got engaged, and once they had set a date, my parents knew that they had to get their tushies in gear to catch up on their 10%. The thing that still resonates with me is that, instead of paying their mortgage in August and September, they decided to pay their 'back tithing' to see their son get married.

Now I am not saying that I wouldn't kill small gutter snipes to see my children get married, I would. I would have probably made a similar decision in their situation. The part that bothered me then and still bothers me now is that they ended up losing their home and the two months they went without paying was the start of a snowball effect, in which they never were able to catch their mortgage back up. When they made the decision to 'pay god first', they kept saying that it was okay, that god would provide. They knew that if they were righteous and made righteous decisions that everything would be okay.

Well, there was no doubt in my mind that everything would be okay. My parents are resilient, I knew that even if they lost their home that they would be okay. My dad is a very hard worker, he loves his job as a nurse at a children's hospital.  But the fact that their religion put them in a spot to choose between their son or their home, didn't sit well with me.  It still doesn't.  The fact that their priority was seeing their son get married isn't the issue, it's that the church put them in a spot where two things that had nothing to do with the other became a conflict.

I didn't get to see my brother get married because my husband and I didn't get married in the temple and hadn't done what the church requires for us to have taken out our endowments. My youngest brother didn't get to see his brother get married because he had not gone on a mission due to health reasons. We all stood outside the temple waiting for them to come out after they got married.

It still is a painful reminder of the mentality of the Mormon church, how my parents were put in a place to make such a ridiculous decision.

Granted, 5 years earlier when my husband and I eloped to Vegas, and we invited my mother and father to come along and see us get married, they graciously declined. I guess if it's not in the temple, it's not worth rearranging plans for.

(photo) Me and my husband on our wedding day in Las Vegas, Nevada 2003.

Burning Down the House

A beautiful house on our block burst into flames on a random Wednesday last month. The flames were so large and intense the local FD fought the fire from around 2am until after 8am.

The scariest part for me, as a mother, was that we live just 4 houses down on the same side of the street and my entire family slept through the sirens, the ruckus and the multiple shifts of firefighters for the full 6+ hours that they were just a hop, skip and a jump from my sleeping sweeties.

I cannot put into words how grateful I am. If it weren't for the speed and dedication of our local fire department, who knows how many houses the fire would have engulfed. We didn't even know it had happened until we drove by it when we dropped the girls off at school.

The experience brought up a few reactions that I know are linked to my religious upbringing. The first words out of my mouth were, "Oh my god." Then I let the words, "Thank heaven" slip past my lips. Granted, being raised Mormon I would have never said Oh my god, that's just rude and taking gods name in vain. But the fact that the first words I said were religiously skewed, made me think. I thought about how years ago I probably would have knelt down to praise and thank god for not letting the fire get to my house. How selfish that would have been. Being grateful that their house burnt down, but mine was fine. And how odd that would be, thanking god for having put out a fire that he himself could have prevented.

As I was trying to shut the door on the selfish skeletons in my closet, I started thinking about what I could do to really show how grateful I am that the fire didn't spread throughout the entire neighborhood.

The first thing I did was talk to the older couple who live next door to the house that caught fire. They are the only neighbor, as that house is on a corner, but their house is only about 10 feet from it. I spoke to her about the ordeal and she told me how they were woken up by police banging on their door a little after 2am that morning, how scary it was, how high the flames were, how she cried and cried worried that she was going to lose her home, how the police wouldn't let her back in her home, and how she is so grateful that embers didn't cause her house to explode in flames.

I let her vent about how scary it was and I offered her my understanding, empathy and sympathy for her feelings and fears. I then offered my phone number and pointed to my house, just in case there was anything I could actually physically do for her and her husband. 

I then wanted to do something for the people who lost their home in the fire, only to learn that house wasn't lived in currently. Which on it's own is something to be so grateful for. No one lost their lives, or anything of sentimental value. The house itself is a total loss, but it could have been so much worse.

I then decided the next logical step was to thank the firefighters. I had my daughters write them thank you notes and had them draw the firefighters pictures. We then worked together to make them a perler bead magnet for the firehouse fridge. I also decided that treats and a picture (above) were in order as well. Nothing says thank you quite like sweets.

Being non-religious made me look for ways to actually show my gratitude, rather than give it to an imaginary being who, in a round about way, actually caused the problem in the first place.  I know that many religious people would have done the same thing I actually did. But I also know that often times religious people use prayer as a crutch, to offer something without actually offering anything.  I found that I can no longer utilize that crutch. Being non-religious means that I actually do something, or nothing at all. And I knew that I had to choose the option that would give my gratitude the proper outlet.

Being non-religious has made me a better person because I use my logic, reasoning and heart instead of blindly following a prophet or ancient text just because my invisible friend says so.

Crafty like a Mormon

Every Tuesday night, while I was young, my mother would to go to a weekly event called 'Home Making'. Home Making Night was when the women's group, referred to as The Relief Society, would meet at the church to learn new crafts and homemaking skills together.

As a female in the Mormon church, you are valued, even though it may never be said aloud, by your homemaking abilities.  My mother always kept her house in pristine order. You never know when the missionaries will knock on your door asking for water, or when your Home Teacher will want to stop by unannounced to check in on your family. Even with four children all spaced within a 5 year period, she kept her home in order.

Growing up in the Young Women's group I learned to crochet, cross stitch, make jam, make taffy, sew and play the piano. I know the importance of having the appropriate amount of food in my pantry at all times and how to store water. I know how to preserve and can my own food, how to mend clothes and I know how to Spring Clean. I've had the knowledge and skills to do all that before I was 14. I gained these skills and practiced them because I wanted to be a good wife and an awesome homemaker.

I remember going with my mom to special Home Making Nights where the ladies in Relief Society were encouraged to bring their female offspring with them to come and learn together. To help build the mother/daughter relationship and to help raise good little peacekeeping homemakers. I loved it. I loved the positive reinforcement and I loved how it made me feel more valuable. I never once thought of it as improving myself as an individual, I always viewed it as upping my value as an eventual wife.

There is a silver lining in this somewhat depressing, sexist cloud. Even though the skills I learned as a Mormon child didn't add value to my proverbial dowry, I have used them to bond with my daughters, to make homemade yummies and needlepoint curse words to send to friends.

The Problem with Tank Tops

Growing up as a child of Mormon parents is a very unique experience that many people never escape from. Meaning that when you grow up in a Mormon household, chances are, you become a Mormon adult and never get the opportunity to take a step back and view the experience from a viewpoint other than one tinged in the noxious muck of it. It's tough, I know because I lived it.

One quirky aspect growing up was the issue of sleeveless clothing. This wasn't an issue of modesty. I was never ever under any circumstance able or allowed to wear a halter, tube, strapless or spaghetti strap top. That crossed over into being indecent and slutty.

For example, back in 1997, I was in the Miss Brea pageant. My Mormon grandmother bought me a strapless dress to wear for the gown portion of the pageant. It was a beautiful, floor length empire waist burgundy gown with boning and a shawl that matched. It was beaded and fit so wonderfully. I couldn't believe the amount of money my grandmother spent on it and I knew I could wear it to my next formal dance, so it wouldn't be wasted on just one event. I loved it.  I tried it on for my mother to see how beautiful it was and I will never forget the look of disgust on her face. I thought my mother was going to lose her shit over it. She was livid that my grandmother would purchase such a inappropriate dress for her 17 year old daughter.  I was heartbroken that the experience of choosing a dress with my grandmother and the excitement I had felt up to that point was ripped apart with one look from my mother.

It was my no means indecent. My back and shoulders were covered with the shawl. My cleavage was fully covered and the dress touched the floor. Even as a young daughter of god, I thought the dress was nothing short of epic and I couldn't believe that I driven to tears over something so simple. But with how my mother was, it had been a long time coming.

All my swim suits had been one pieces my entire life. Bikini's or even a tactful two piece were always out of the question.  Even some of the other Mormon girls or my quasi-Mormon cousins were able to wear bathing suits with push up bras or cut outs. Not me. At the time it wasn't a big deal. I wasn't much of an outdoorsy or beach type girl. I rarely found myself in a bathing suit anyway.

But the Miss Brea pageant mattered to me. It was important because I wanted to show my family, mostly my mother, that no matter what she found wrong with me, that I was pretty enough. Silly teenage thoughts, I know, but at the time it mattered.

Looking back, I realize now how silly it was. I know my mother didn't believe that wearing a strapless dress to a pageant would turn me into a slut. I think she was more concerned with what the other Mormon mothers would think of her letting me wear something that I couldn't wear with garments. That was the problem with tank tops, that I couldn't wear garments with them.

Now, for those not 'in the know' about garments, they are the items of clothing every Mormon who gets their temple endowment receives. They are to be worn against the skin, under your underpants and/or bra and some people outside of the religion refer to them 'magic underwear'. Mormon men, and sometimes women, usually get their garments when they go on a mission. (Mission = Garments) Mormon women, and non-missionary men, usually get theirs a little before marriage in the temple, which is usually called a temple sealing. I never received my endowment, so I never received garments.

Why wear tank tops if you couldn't always wear them? Why buy them as an adult if one day they wouldn't be usable in your wardrobe? Why get into the 'habit' of showing your shoulders if that wasn't decent enough for god?

So I wore a long, simple, dark blue gown with a velvet top and satin bottom. I didn't win the gown part of the pageant. Hell, I didn't place in the pageant, which was okay with me; I went up against some really smart, beautiful college girls. I did win the essay competition though, which for me, was enough.  I tried my hardest, was walked down the stage by a Marine, and won a massage. And I learned a very important lesson about my mother.

It's the Little Things

When looking at my overall experience as a mother, and thinking about how my atheism has affected the way I raise my children, I am kinda surprised by my own established misconceptions. In the beginning, I felt that being an atheist would drastically change motherhood all together, but I can't help but notice how on a day to day basis, nothing really changed.

Granted, I became an atheist really early on in my children's lives. Little K was 3 and Little M had just turned 2. So I hadn't had much time to start to brainwash them into Mormonism. And I hadn't been very religious in over 8 years when my first little kumquat was born. So we never said prayers other than when we would go to my parent's house for dinner. I hadn't told them any Bible stories or really had gone to church more than a handful of times.

I honestly feel that with or without church, I would be raising my children, day by day, very similarly to the way I do now. 

We wake up around 7am every morning, the girls get dressed for school, watch a little tv, I make sure they are dressed for the weather and we head out to school. Warm days we walk, chilly days we take the car and they are at school on time every morning.  I am pretty sure that sounds like most mornings in most households with elementary school children.

If I was religious, maybe we would say a family prayer before leaving for school, but in my childhood home, we rarely said a morning prayer. It happened on occasion, but it was never a constant.

I work full time. My husband is a stay at home father. He loves his children and he picks them up from school each day. He sits and does their homework with them, then will play xbox games with them for little while. Viva Pinata is one of their favorites. When I get home from work, either my husband or myself make dinner. We watch The Simpsons, the girls hop in the bath and then it's time for bed. Maybe short of a prayer or two, I know it would be exactly the same with a religion to follow.

All the little things are the same; same day to day behavior and love. Maybe if I was still religious I would shove prayer in where ever I could, maybe a little Bible study too. Church would be a mandatory thing, instead of something we do when I have the energy, the gas and no other plans. (We sometimes go to our local UU church.)

But as much as the little things haven't changed, I know that there are a lot of little things that have changed drastically.

I know that if I was still religious, I wouldn't read the bedtime stories that I do.  My daughters love excerpts from The Magic of Reality by Dr. Richard Dawkins. I know that would not be a book on my shelf had I clung to the fleeting mesh of lies that is Mormonism. I would answer their questions differently. Instead of giving a basic brief explanation of where babies actually do come from, I know the words "Babies come from heaven" may have slipped past my lips.They wouldn't have a basic understanding of evolution or science. Maybe I would be a parent who spanks, maybe I would be a parent who would try to shove them into 'appropriate' gender stereotypes. I hope not, but that may just be the 'new' me talking.

So whether it be the little things that haven't changed, or the little things that have, when I take a step back and ponder my feelings about motherhood, I know that if it weren't for these two little critters that came into my life, nothing would have changed, and that's a really big thing.

Raising children of atheist parents

A certain awesome man named Richard Dawkins once stated that there is no such thing as a Christian child, just a child of Christian parents.

Most understand his statement as saying that children are much too young to have the advanced reasoning skills to decide for themselves the origin of the universe, or the meaning of life.

I understand it as they are too young to doubt the black and white answers their parents or guardians give to them. They aren't too dumb to understand how things really work, they are just too young and even fearful to doubt their parents. And I can agree with that. I was raised as a child of Mormon parents. It took 28 years for me to have the strength to stomach the guilt that comes with doubting the black and white answers I was force fed as a child.

I know plenty of freethinking parents who apply the same logic to their children. They have respect for their children and don't want to 'brain wash' their children in a similar way they feel children of religious parents are being brainwashed.

I was in that boat, actually I may still be in that boat at times. I am an agnostic parent, in the sense that I am never really sure I know what I am doing as a parent, a lot of the time I feel more like a teacher/cuddle bunny, mostly because as a mommy, that's what I spend the majority of my time doing... you know, teaching and cuddling.

I don't ever want to squelch my children's curiosity. I want them to feel comfortable doubting me, questioning me (even though that gets annoying quick at bedtime), and I want them to always be skeptical of what they are told, especially if it doesn't add up.

But there are times when I really want to raise my skeptical, freethinking children to be strong atheists. There is no evidence of unicorns, why would I need to present my children with that 'theory'? I know they will have times when they will believe monsters are real, and the same is probably true with a variety of things, but the more time I spend as a mother, the more I realize that my children are capable of detecting bullshit, and they will need that in this world. Even at the young ages of 6 and 4 they will call you out on an obvious lie.

I know the dangers of religion, I see the way others' twatwaffle beliefs get written into law. Laws that hurt others. And I never ever want my children to be on that side of hate, bigotry and ignorance.

The more I think about how to raise myself a great set of little heathens, the more I realize there is absolutely nothing wrong with it. My children may be too young to really decide for themselves if there is or isn't a god, but they are also too young to really decide if there are unicorns somewhere or if there is a teapot caught in the Sun's orbital gravitational pull.

Hell, I tell my children that monsters aren't real, and I go through the logical steps to prove it. (And I do it with the whole god/goddess question too.) I don't believe my children are too young to require evidence, they aren't too young to doubt nonsense. So as much as I tried to stay neutral, it's no longer on the top of my importance list as a parent.

The rules I set for myself in regards to raising my atheists to be the beautiful young ladies I want them to be are simple and more like promises or vows than rules. To raise atheist children all you need is logic, reasoning, bunches of patience and love and at least one child. (Don't go all quiverfull though, that's just irresponsible.)

I vow to never lie to my children. If I don't know the answer, I say so. There are no circumstances that exist that I will ever tell them something that I can't prove, or has not been shown to work by a double blind peer reviewed scientific study. (The Bible doesn't fall into that category, sorry folks.) Or that I can't prove by the magical wonder of Google.

I vow to love my children unconditionally. That means there are no conditions or circumstances that exist that I will ever kick them out of my home, ever disown them, or pile on vast amounts of unforgivable guilt.

Got pregnant out of wedlock? No worries.

You fell in love with a woman and want to get married? Awesome!

You want to vote Republican?? Oh Damn... um... Let's have a little talk about women's rights, human rights, and ethics my darling daughter... (Unconditional love doesn't mean that I will turn a blind eye to glaring mistakes and bad decisions.) I should know, I was a Republican once.

I vow that as for me and my house, we will serve. (It's tough not to finish that sentence with 'spaghetti'.) But seriously, serving our fellow humans and our planet is very important. It is especially important to atheists, considering we do not believe super magic Jewish zombie Jesus is coming back to destroy it anyway. Teaching my heathens to give to others, to love others, to accept others and to treat this planet as the only one we 'get' is vital to beauty and happiness. We will recycle, we will donate our money, resources, time and talents to others.

And... well, you know... that's it really. What more could help create perfect atheist young ladies? 100% honesty and 100% unconditional love and 100% serving our fellow humans.

So do I push aside the common knowledge that atheists do not raise their children as atheists? It seems more honorable in atheist parent circles to raise freethinkers.

They were born into this world as atheists, how does me raising them as such do damage? It brings me joy when we are doing Brain Quest trivia and the question, "When might the tooth fairy pay you a visit?" is answered with, "Never, the tooth fairy isn't real." That's right my skeptic little girl, that's right. There is too much beauty and 'magic' in the natural world to ever have to believe such poppycock.

So as much as I know that I am raising two freethinking children, I also know deep down in my heart that I am raising two strong smart women, two awesome atheists and two beautiful, graceful ladies.

And if one day, one of my beautiful young daughters decides that she believes in some religious poppycock, I'll just refer back to my second rule.

My very first post! Is it natural to be nervous?

Hi. My name is Leilani and I am a Mormon.

I was born into The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints on July 10th, 1980 to an unwed mother.

I am blogging to share my journey, in the hopes that other LDS folks might find the strength to leave the church from my experiences, or at the least take away some information that will help them with their doubts.

I state that I am Mormon because I have not yet written my resignation letter. Until I mail that letter in, I am a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. Even though I would be considered a Jack-Mormon. I consider myself a recovering Mormon.

My journey to Atheism started before I was even aware of the complexities of religion and the lack thereof.

I was blessed into the church by my Grandfather as a baby (as I had no father) and was baptized at the age of 8 in September 1988. I attended 4 years of seminary and was the champ of The good old Scripture Chase... I kicked ass during the lightning round. I had a testimony. During many Fast Sunday Sacrament Meetings I stood before the congregation and bore my testimony. I attended the single's ward after high school and have considered myself Mormon until November 2008.

I walked away from the Mormon church after I came to understand how big of a role they played in the Prop. 8 vote in California, where I lived at the time. I could no longer ignore the biggotry the Church promoted. And the more I found out about the church, the angrier I became. And the more I realized how much of a judgmental shrew I was growing up because of my beliefs, the more I knew I couldn't raise my children in that religion. Even though I turned out okay from being raised Mormon, I couldn't do it to my children after realizing all the flaws the Mormon church has.

I started my journey of pulling away from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints last November. I hope to be able to share my journey.


If you are ready to leave the Mormon church, please visit www.mormonnomore.com to find out how to get your name off the church records. It helped me immensely.