The Plight of most Mormons

Before I begin I’d just like to tell you all I’m a sinner. Not just any sinner, but a Mormon sinner. In today’s world of events most people don’t consider themselves a sinner, I mean, if you live a life without killing someone or stealing from someone else in the eyes of the world you are not a sinner. This doesn’t go to say that you contribute to society or that you’re a good person, just that you are not going out of your way to cause destruction – so you’re not a sinner. It doesn’t matter if you believe in God or not, in the eyes of society (at least in America). No one goes out of their way to condemn an atheist, they might shun them, but they surely do not condemn them. Additionally one might consider an idol worshipper, what makes them different from someone who believes in God? They have to see what they are praying to. A God believer would claim they have no faith. I’m not an atheist or an agnostic, and I don’t worship to idols, I do believe in God. In this belief therefore there must be some guidelines a God believer must follow. If there weren’t guidelines everything would be amoral. Which I might add, swearing is amoral. I personally believe they go deeper than just not stealing and not killing. One such issue is not having sex outside of marriage, that linked article is good btw I suggest you read it. God believers must also consider that if they believe in sin they believe in mercy and justice. The scales must balance, and alone no one could ever balance them, that’s the purpose of Jesus Christ for us Christians. Lucifer, or Satan (the devil), had an alternative plan to God’s. He wanted there to be no laws here on Earth, so there could be no sin, so we would all come back to God (No one goes to hell). This would mean there wouldn’t be any laws to break, no speed limits on the free ways, massive chaos etc.

When a Mormon, or member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, sins, they go through the process of repentance. Granted most of you Christians out there know the belief of the atonement, Jesus pays the price of sin so you can be whole again. Whole again in the sense that you repent, Jesus atones for you, and you achieve perfection. If you don’t achieve perfection, you can’t be with God again because as the Bible says, “No unclean thing may be before God.”

    So as a Mormon this process of repentance is:
  • Admit I’m sinning.
  • Feel bad that I’m sinning.
  • Confess to God and my bishop that I am sinning.
  • Receive forgiveness and never sin again. (Please note: Time is required here, and accordingly God’s time is different than ours)
    • Here in lies the plight of most Mormons, they sin again.

Most Mormons who choose to repent do so because they feel guilty. I won’t go into the Utah environment, nor the forced pressures or forced repentances. Sure, they exist. Perhaps parents raising their child give no choice to their child, their child simply believes as they do – that’s how they were raised. I will strongly argue though that there comes a time in everyone’s life, that they figure out they either believe or don’t believe in their parents religion, and maybe they figure out what they believe in if they don’t believe in their parents religion.

That brings us to here:
Guilt. I have a mighty big confusing case of it. I believe in my parents religion, the church is true, as they say. It is my religion. A couple years ago I met the most psycho girl I ever got to know, she was good for me and she was bad for me. She had a pseudo seizure on December 21, 2004. One of the things that was bad for me was her continual lies, she knows I believe her to be a habitual liar - even if she doesn't agree with me. She took my virginity early in January. If my friend hadn't have shown me how to use a rubber I might have gotten her pregnant. All for what? She says, “Make love to me,” and I did. A week later I couldn’t stand the guilt, I had to get that burden off my back. I went and saw my bishop, a great man who is now a mission president down in Mexico City. I had sex with that girl two and a half times (don’t ask), and I wanted to stop and I knew my bishop could help me. He counseled me and did a great job I might add, the counsel I couldn’t follow though was to stop all and complete contact with the girl I had fallen in love with. I don’t know how long it was, because I don’t remember the day I lost my virginity. Maybe a month or a month and a half went by, and I went back to her and it was February 14, 2005. March 23, 2005, I remember that day because March 23rd was the day I got my first kiss, not to mention my previous girlfriend’s birthday, I went to see my bishop again. I finally severed contact with that girl and never had sex with her again. I had repented, I went without taking the sacrament for over half a year. I never went back.

Recommitting the same sin
Until Saturday morning, on September 9, 2006… I’ve been trying not to use names but I want to make it clear it wasn’t the same girl. I met this girl in my Intro to Mass Communications class. She handed me her MySpace name. Instant hit, three days later I spent the night at her house, and although I didn’t get much sleep all we did was cuddle. One week later was that Saturday morning. I want to go see my bishop again, and stop having sex all over. Am I more of a sinner now that I’ve repeated this sin? I don’t know. All I know is that guilt is back. My clarity of thought is gone. The spirit dwindles. Trying to fix this is hard. I have to go talk to my bishop again, I barely know this particular bishop, in my Single’s Ward. For those of you who don’t know, there’s one bishop per ward and wards vary in size but typically have 300-400 people – at least in Utah where the church is dominant.

I came home last Sunday night to my parents. I did like five batches of laundry and had dinner over there, and my best friend took me out and I had chai for the first time in my life. Throughout the night my parents asked me how I was doing and questions – the like. They then asked me if I was getting serious with this new girl I told them about. I was. I told them so. They asked if I was having sex with her. I wonder, this probably isn’t a typical question outside of Utah, but here it’s common. I admitted I was. What sticks out in my mind the most is when I said to them, “She’s a good girl, you’d like her.” My mom huffed and puffed and then blaringly exclaimed, “Then why did you defile her!?” and she walked out of the room and finished my last batch of laundry.

Can one really achieve true repentance?
Having sex prevented me from serving a mission, a two year dedication where I preach the gospel (likely in a foreign country). I wanted to serve, but I can’t imagine anyone who doesn’t follow their own church guidelines able to preach in a correct and positive way. I’d wager that sex is the most prevalent sin in the LDS church, and just as related – pornography. I sometimes can’t help but think that marriage is the solution to sex outside of marriage. Additional problems might be divorce, and loyalty. I don’t really know though. I thought I was over the sin until it happened again. I guess that’s how life works. Then again if you think about it, God doesn’t inherently trust you until you trust first yourself, then Him, then he trusts you.

October 22, 2006:
I saw my bishop and stake president today. I feel uplifted and changed. My clarity of thought is returning. I went fasting into my meetings this morning. Having gone to these dedicated men who are here to help me by acting as the Savior, I feel my spirit beginning to feel happiness again. I am not perfect, but I am on the way to becoming whole.

We’re all sinners in our own way.

If you read this node, I enjoy feedback or speculation.

November 2, 2005 update:
The girl I "lost" my virginity to emailed me today. She wanted me to correct some facts. First, I didn't lose my virginity to her, I "gave" it to her. "(I'd like you to correct some things) The fact that I'm psycho and that I took your virginity. Because as I remember correctly, you gave it to me, as I gave you mine." I'll post her entire email in a the new daylog November 2, 2005 but couldn't not post that portion here. She made me cry. She often did that to me.

It's like waking up to a bad dream

It's nice, to know that things might be put to good use when I am done with them. Dropping off the load of old but still useful stuff to the thrift store felt like I was lightening my life by as many pounds. The clothes and things were gone, but not to take up space in some landfill - at least for now.

Leaving, I pulled my car around the back of the drive in a long, slow arc. I glanced over, half-interestedly, at the RV and boat storage lot languishing behind the secondhand store. Taking note of details, I saw the lot was packed with vehicles in varying conditions. The fence that surrounded them was topped with barbed wire and razor wire. It would take some amount of determination to get over.

What the fuck?

Somewhere in my tired mind, a switch flipped on. The space began to fill with anger, a burgeoning steady anger joining my realization. Why the hell do we need fucking razor wire on a fence around a dinky little storage lot?!

I can understand the fence. The owner has to demarcate the property, to keep people from walking through and so on. The only reason, though, for fortifying that fence with shit that will rip your ass off is if there are people who earnestly want to get in there and vandalize or steal someone else's property.

I don't consider myself to be an exceptionally good person. I have my ethics, and I generally follow them. I would never, ever set out to take or damage things that don't belong to me. Who the hell are the people that think such actions constitute a good time?! Where do they come from?

People are essentially benevolent. They love, they feel compassion for their fellow human beings. There is nothing to change that. How deep, how far must that essence be buried for someone to feel justified in smashing a car window to take something? And for what?

I pity the person who, last Friday, broke into my car. I can call my insurance company, and with minor inconvenience have the window repaired. Then I move on. That individual cannot ever undo the choice to sacrifice his soul. There won't be a check coming in the mail redeemable for "one shred of dignity."

The world is not as I would have it. But then, it never was. Sometimes it's just a little hard to take, the knowledge that everything is spoiled.

Note: What follows is cutesy baby stuff which tends to make non-baby toting people want to gack. I know, because I haven't had a baby around for the last 16 years and that's generally what things like this did to me. Now I'm writing cutesy baby stuff. *sigh* All I can say in my defense is, well, she IS really cute...

Daddy Learns to Change Magdalena


Once upon a time there was a new Daddy. He was a very new Daddy and he had a very new baby. The very new baby was a very beautiful little girl. She was the most beautiful girl in all the land. Her name was Magdalena.

One day, the new Daddy met Magdalena at the park. Even though Magdalena was a little baby, she was not only the most beautiful little girl in all the land, she was also the brightest and the smartest.

It was absolutely not her fault that the grown-ups of her world had not yet figured out ways to take care of all her needs instantly and understand her language completely. This caused occasional complications.

After all, she knew what she needed to do and what she wanted at all times. These large people that surrounded her were obviously slow. It was very, very hard for Magdalena to be patient. Who could blame her if sometimes she became cranky with them?

But back to our story:

At the park Magdalena found to her dismay that once again, she needed to be something that the large ones called ‘changed’. This made no sense. She knew perfectly well she was perfect just as she was and didn’t need to be changed into anything else. All she really needed was for someone to get the wet yucky piece of cloth off of her bottom.

“Take this wet yucky piece of cotton off of me right now you big people!” Magdalena demanded, perfectly clearly.

“Wahhhh! Grrrrgg! Arrrrrr! MMmmmaaaa!” Big Daddy heard Magdalena say, perfectly clearly.

Magdalena saw her Daddy looking at her with that dopey look on his face that most of the big people tended to get around her and settled in for a long, damp wait.

Why they couldn’t figure out a way for her to accomplish this “changing” all by herself was beyond her, but if you took into account the way this "Daddy" was looking at her, she guessed it all made a certain kind of sense. He didn't look very bright.

She tried again: “I said, I’ve got a wet diaper here!!! A little help please??”

Her Daddy heard: “Ggggrrrrryyyg ammmmmrrrr! Wwwwgggg?!! And promptly picked her up and made funny faces at her and patted her back. Magdalena sighed to herself. Time to break out the big guns.

“Diaper! Diaper! Wet! Wet! Diaper! Wet! Can’t you understand ANYTHING??? (Repeat, repeat, repeat, etc.)

Finally, after being passed around from Daddy, to Tamar, then to Mommy, someone finally figured it out. "Thank goodness", thought Magdalena. "Sheesh."

But then, it seemed it was Daddy who decided he wanted to “change” her. This was slightly worrying. Mommy had managed to change her many times, and she always managed this delicate process without changing her into a toaster or a frog or a tomato. This Daddy person didn’t look too sure about this whole operation. What if he changed her from a perfect little girl into a telephone pole or a carrot?

The maneuvers commenced. Magdalena decided she would give him the benefit of the doubt. He was her Daddy after all. Plus, there seemed to be much hilarity going on between Mommy and Tamar at his efforts (and they didn't even like each other) and she was sure that one or both of them would turn HIM into a pile of poop if he even looked like he was going to change her into an armadillo.

“Gawd”, Magdalena thought to herself. “This is taking FOREVER.” He seemed to be doing okay, though. She kept looking at her arms and hands and feet and they seemed to be going through the ‘change’ okay. They still looked like the perfect little girl pieces she knew she had and not pieces of a police car or a fire truck.

Finally, Daddy was done and she was nice and dry. All this had worn her out, frankly, and she decided she would take a nap. Training grown-ups was hard work.

“It’s been real you guys. I’m glad you didn’t change me into an elephant” she told everyone present.

Daddy heard “Wooorgle wooooh bahhhhhhhh! Gllllgggggshhh!”

Magdalena promptly fell asleep.

The End

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