This is Not Really About Prop 8

I have never been so glad to not live in Southern California as I have been this past year. And I thought I was REALLY glad before. Prop 8 has turned a corner, and people are getting ugly. I am blessed to have friends and family who are much smarter than I about politics and issues that don't involve Top Models, and these friends keep me informed and in the loop. (So much so that I steal many of their words and pretend to be all knowledgey and votable.)Now, y'all know that I am lazy. (I mean, I just used a Texas contraction. THAT'S laziness, people.) And I don't have a lot of time for outrage. (Because it cuts into my ANTM obligations.) I let Queen and Ames be outraged for me and then I comment and say "Amen, Sister!" (Because then I don't have to formulate sentences.) But, recently, Queen was accosted on her facebook page by some friends calling her her a bigot. (Which I am sure they would say that they didn't mean, but that they meant that people like her were LIKE bigots, but they would never say that to their faces.) That made me sad. But you know what made me more sad? The following .sentence:

"I have never been so ashamed to be a Mormon."

Forget, for a moment, that I don't know with every fiber in my being that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints is God's true church on this earth, and that Joseph Smith saw God the Father, and his Son, Jesus Christ, and restored His gospel, and that Thomas S. Monson is a true and living prophet of God--the only one on earth right now

What a wasted amount of energy this girl has. Seriously. If I am ashamed of something, I stop doing it. I quit and never look back. Case in point: I no longer watch "Wife Swap," because it makes me feel ashamed to have eyes. And when I started to feel shameful I stopped reading that second Flowers in the Attic book. (Felt no shame on the first one, though. MAN, was that a smutty book. I can't believe I read that when I was twelve. I would beat Jooj if I found her reading that at any age. I wonder if it is as smutty now as I recall? Maybe I will have to revisit that...)

My point is, being a Mormon is really, really, really, really, REALLY labor-intensive. First, we have three-hour meetings on Sunday. And we don't have stadium seats or gift shops or coffe bars like some of the other churches around the EP have. And we have to get dressed up and be all respectful. And sing. And then we don't even get to go home and knock back a cold Colt 45. Not even if Lando Calrizian stops by. NOT EVEN THEN. Add to that the fact that every church position is unpaid, and we end up working our little bunsies off the whole rest of the week running the show. Plus the quilting, bread-making, large-hair-styling, and dowdy-dress making. And don't forget the blogging. SO MUCH EFFORT goes into being a Mormon!

So, if I were ashamed of any bit of it, I would stop. Because (and I have said this before, but I know you may have not believed it) I AM LAZY. And don't have time to be ashamed of things. And I would start my own church. And there would be Polynesian Sauce from Chic-Fil-A instead of some type of Eucharist.

"For the Temple is a House of God; a Place of Love and Beauty"

**All Pictures from www.lds.org.

Twelve Years and Five Days ago I was in Boca Raton Florida, on my way to the Orlando Temple with my future in-laws and my future husband. It was a long, long drive, and it was really, really early. I remember eating a bagel. And being kind of nervous to enter the temple--a place I had been preparing to go my entire life.

I was the only newcomer during that temple time, and the matrons were so excited and cute--they let me put on a fancy dress and gave me a hand-made holder for my temple recommend.

I think that I disappointed CayCay a little because I didn't cry. But I was just so Happy To Be that I didn't have room for tears. She didn't know me well enough then to know that I only cry out of sadness/anger/mushy movies/and, apparently, adopting a baby.


In Twelve Days it will be three years since we were in Provo, Utah on our way to the Provo Temple with our newly-adopted, officially OURS daughter. It had been a long, long, time coming, and we were surrounded by family, friends, and birth-families and friends. I remember being nervous about time constraints, and relieved that she would finally be sealed to me forever.

We were the only family during that temple time, and the matrons in the nursery were so excited and cute--they fussed over Jooj and put her in her fancy dress and gave me a little card with the date and their names (Kay Frisby and Arlene Smith) to keep.

When they brought Jooj into the sealing room she was just happy as a clam. I started to cry--relief and happiness and joy. But there was some sadness, too. In the room with us were her dear, dear birth-grandparents who I know were thrilled for us, but with a breaking heart. I felt such love and gratitude for them and for her sweet birthmother who was waiting in the garden outside for us to meet her after the ceremony.

When they told us that we were officially sealed, Jooj blew a huge raspberry. It couldn't have been more Official after that.


Yesterday I went to the Ciudad Juarez, Mexico temple. It was a pretty quick ride, no traffic, and not too many crazy drivers. Only two guys juggling fire on the side of the road. I was not special, I was not alone, and I was not fawned over.

And yet, the Spirit testified to me, just as has happened three years ago, that I would be soon starting this cycle again. And that I would be ready, and that it would be good. That the road would be hard but, by the time I could celebrate anniversaries, I would remember the good and the joy and the tears. And I would be in the temple.



If you want to know more about the temples of the LDS church, or how we are, as a family, able to be together after we die, I encourage you to visit Mormon.org. It is all true. Serio. And if you want to listen to a living Prophet of God, check out our General Conference Broadcast this weekend. It will be the heat! (And if you are in the EP area, we will be eating brownie pancakes while we watch. Stop by!)