Uh oh...she mopped and mowed yesterday. That means she had a lot of time on her hands to think. Grumpy thoughts, mostly.
So here's the thing. I'm struggling. I'm struggling with well meaning, loving people. I'm struggling with caring people who want to help.
I love my Church. I am an adult convert to the LDS church which means as a mature adult, I chose the life I lead. Being LDS is not a Sunday thing, it's a daily thing. It governs how I dress, what I say, what I take into my body and how I conduct myself.
We raised our children in the Church. It has been a good thing. I have 3 wonderful children. All 3 believe in God and none of them drink, smoke or use drugs. All 3 graduated from Seminary. Two of them attend church regularly. The other one attends church occasionally. None of them are doing anything that general society would consider less than exemplary.
Our daughter has a testimony of God. She doesn't attend church regularly. She is a very good person and I'm very proud of her.
Our oldest son served a full time mission for two years in Washington state. He attends church every Sunday and serves in a calling in his congregation. We are very proud of him.
Our youngest son has chosen not to serve a mission at this time. He's 20 years old and is a EMT/Firefighter. He attends church regularly and serves in a calling in his ward. We are very proud of him.
So what am I struggling with? It's my youngest son. Not because he's chosen not to serve a mission right now. I struggle with well-meaning, loving people who have lost sight of the very basic precept of our religion which is free agency, or the freedom to choose and accept the consequences associated with our choices.
My son has chosen not to serve a mission right now and I'm at peace with his decision. It's not because he doesn't know that it's expected of all worthy young men. He knows about it. We've told him. And well meaning, loving people tell him too. Every Sunday. Two or three times, by five or six people. It's not because he's not worthy either. He is one of the most worthy young men I've ever known.
But what these well meaning, loving people don't know, is that the decision not to serve has been a difficult, painful decision. They do not know the agony, the suffering, the heart wrenching struggle he has been through to arrive at this decision. Every time someone mentions it at church, it twists the knife he carries in his gut for his decision.
Maybe it would have been better had he gone out on a mission and return after a month or so because he wasn't ready to serve this way. No one would say anything or harp on him a church because we would all want to seem loving and accepting. We know what would be said privately among families in the ward. But he would be spared the constant pressure.
Perhaps he should marry his high school sweetheart. Even though he feels too young and immature to marry and support his wife, he would fare better at church because they would be such a cute young couple.
How long will he be able to faithfully endure the constant pressure of the question, "When are you putting your mission papers in"? Will he cave to the pressure and agree to serve a mission? No, but he may get so sick of hearing it and conclude that the doctrine of free agency doesn't really apply to all of the Gospel and stay away from the torment of those well-meaning, loving people.
Thank you for loving my family. Thank you for caring for my son after we moved. Thank you for being such well-meaning, loving people. I mean this with every fiber of my soul. One of the best things about being part of our church is that we really do care about one another.
So what can you do to help if you really love my son? Continue to love him. Ask him about the 15 units he's carrying at the JC. Ask him how he's progressing in his Paramedic training. Ask him how he likes his firefighting job - both paid and volunteer. Ask him to dinner or family home evening- both of which he has a hard time providing for himself.
Should he decide to serve a mission, I promise, you all will be the first to know. You won't even have to ask.
