Posted by:
Queen of Denial
(
)
Date: October 22, 2010 04:13PM
Here's the scenario:
My little family moved earlier this year from southern California to northern California, just months after I finally had the courage to stop attending church. DH had not been in years. I thought the move was mighty convenient in that it might help aid in fading into the abyss of non-actives. I won't resign until my mom passes. It would break her heart and she's already super stressed about my falling away.
We've been here for six months now and I was feeling pretty confident that we wouldn't be approached by the local ward. I'm so naive...
Last Sunday we came home from a visit to the local pumpkin patch, with lots of orange orbs in tow, to find a little note left by the missionaries. They must know the code for our gated community. I read the note and silently thought us lucky that we were out.
I left shortly afterward to run some errands by myself, leaving DH and boys home to play Candyland. I came home late that night to find out that the missionaries had stopped by again. DH was very nice and explained that he would let them in except that he was in the middle of getting the boys to bed. He told them they were welcomed to come back another time.
I was very uncomfortable with DH's invitation to return another time. My oldest turns eight next week, and even though I had to drag him to church kicking and screaming, friends and family have filled his little head about questions of god, etc and it really stresses him. I don't want the missionaries here. DH says he just remembers practically starving on his mission for food and for social interaction. I compromised and said they could come, but they had to leave religion at the door. No praying, no scriptures, no spiritual thoughts. I do feel bad for them and have no problem feeding them. At first, DH agreed, but then changed his mind. He said he felt like the boys need to be exposed to religion so we can discuss it with them. I agree, but not right now. My oldest is in a very raw place; we just moved, he left all his friends, and he's at a new school. I feel like there is oodles of time to talk about religion. I really put my foot down. I couldn't believe we were arguing over it.
The next day, Monday, I had just returned home from taking the oldest to school. The place is a mess from breakfast. I am not showered, in my pj's, no bra, no make-up and there's a knock on the door. I shush my youngest and sneak to the front door to spy through the peep hole. Sure enough, there's two nice looking RS women at the door. I pretend I'm not home. I'm a mess!
I go out later to find a little journal and pen with a silk flower taped to it. It's all packaged up with a pretty red ribbon and a sweet note welcoming us to the ward and contact information.
I don't really care who gave them our address, nor am I surprised. I know my friends and family are thinking of our best interest, even if I don't agree with what they think is best.
So, I'm thinking I should write a nice letter to the bishop requesting no contact. It's either that or feeling like a burglar in my own home, hiding out each time the door bell rings.