The Painful Irony of Mother's Day

The following story was found on mormoncurtain.com and the original author is Ex-Lamanite. It was so good that I had to share it.

Within the LDS tradition, Mother's Day plays well into the whole "families are forever" theme, but for me, the irony was that Mother's Day eventually helped me to see the absurdity of Mormonism.

A lifetime ago, I was a young teenage convert who believed the Mormon message with all sincerity, but my parents remained unconverted. They respected my religious choices, but they themselves did not believe my new-found religion. Oh, I was a valiant little missionary who took every opportunity to preach the Gospel to my parents and to bear fervent testimony that our family could be eternal, if only they would accept the "truth." But sadly for me, my parents never joined the church. In fact, each of my parents told me in their own ways that they would never become Mormons, even if it were offered to them in the next life.

My parents' decision created a painful paradox. Every Sunday I sat in church and listened to the members, teachers, and priesthood leaders as they gushed on and on regarding the blessings of eternal family. Most of them came from multi-generational LDS families and would never know the pain of eternal separation from their loved ones, and more presently, they would never know that their words might create a miserable experience for the one lone boy in the congregation from the non-member family. But then again, most Mormons I knew cared precious little about the feelings of those who fall outside their narrow experience.

But I was still a young man, and I didn't see the church as the problem - I blamed myself. I thought perhaps that I had not been faithful enough, or that I had not prayed or fasted enough to be worthy of an eternal family. Even my patriarchal blessing said that if I was faithful, my parents would see my shining example and gain a testimony of the Gospel. When my parents remained steadfast in their denial of Mormonism, what other conclusion could I reach in my youth? I was the problem.

And this brings me back to Mother's Day.

Every Mother's Day, I sat alone at the back of the chapel and wept. While everyone else sang praises to their eternal families, I knew that I would be alone - I knew that my parents would never accept. The so-called blessings of the temple became a death sentence, an insurmountable wall that would one day separate me from everyone who ever mattered to me.

Eventually I went on a mission and married in the temple, still hoping that my faithfulness would convince my parents, but at some point, my eyes were opened and the absurdity of Mormonism became apparent. I realized that the whole "eternal family" doctrine was really a curse, not a blessing. It only works if EVERYONE agrees and submits to Mormon authority. But if one family member disagrees or "falls away," then even the faithful are punished and eternally separated from the ones they love. Suddenly I became deeply aware that I didn't want to inherit ANY kingdom, celestial or otherwise, where I would be forever deprived of my mother and
father.

To borrow a Mormon phrase, the scales of darkness fell from my eyes, and suddenly I saw misery all around me within the Mormon Church. I saw faithful LDS mothers weeping when their daughters marry outside the temple. I saw parents in agony when a child chose to not serve a mission. I saw wives in misery when their husbands leave the church, and young people feeling isolated and alone when one parent doesn't believe. I saw gay and lesbian family members ostracized and shunned. I saw divorced women in terror that they would spend all eternity ALONE. The Gospel is supposed to mean "Good News," but instead I saw that the teachings of the church bring pain and unhappiness to anyone who falls outside the Mormon ideal.

Worse yet, I realized that my obsession with converting my parents actually prevented me from having a close relationship with them. The church prides itself with being the champions of the pro-family movement, but for so many of us, they actually drive a wedge between families, in this life and in the next.

Once the illusion dissipated, I finally saw just how amazing and beautiful my parents ARE - and how deeply they always loved me. My "eternal family" is HERE and NOW.