I hated it. I never knew what I was supposed to say as I am a very private person. I had church leaders every step of the way correcting me; making me feel inferior to my peers. "Next time Johnny prays, pay attention to how he prays and what he says."

I often said funny things during my primary picnic years like: Please keep the flies and meat bees away from watermelon and sandwiches. Or may the prophet live to be 500 years just like Moses. My peers would bust out laughing and the Primary sisters would be screaming for everyone to calm down.

I often forgot what I was praying for. I would ask to bless the hot dogs when we were eating hamburgers. Sometimes I suffered a complete mental blackout~ I had no idea where I was so I ended a lot of prayers in the name of Spencer W Kimball. Leaders were always going to my Mom, who usually thought that I was being funny so I got spanked often.

Every year in the Aaronic PH quorums, I served as the secretary during my deacon and teacher years. We had lots of quorum meetings. I do not exaggerate when I say that I was picked to open and close those leadership meetings. I also got called to say prayers during Sunday school as well as the priesthood quorum meetings. Throw in prayers for scouting, mutual, service projects~ you get the idea.

I suppose my favorite prayer story was being asked to say the invocation (opening prayer) by a sloppy 2nd counselor in the bishopric. I was a primary teacher coming late out of the classroom with an easel, skill box in tow. I really needed to hit the can before SM. He didn't give me a chance and the ward was already singing opening hymn. So here I was in the men's restroom busting my gut and the organ/singing stops. An eerie silence. The one who asked me without waiting for an answers shouts: Will Brother Goop please come up and say the opening prayer!!!

I'm still on the pot in the restroom and my poor Dad must have been bewildered. He goes to the podium and starts saying one of his loopy style prayers: blessing the flowers and squirrels and every part of Mother Nature (they really hated that) and also that his favorite football team (49ers) would not fumble the ball with Brother Young. Yes, my Dad really prayed that way.

I never prayed in flowery language like everyone else did. I always thought prayer was from the heart and not to show off our skills. The bishop of the ward we were in when we got married told me I needed to practice praying so I could do it in public. I thought that was ridiculous.

My roommate and my future husband decided to play a joke on me and she was RS president in the singles ward. She called on me to give the prayer and I did. I was not happy about it.

My dad gave a prayer once that was the most sincere public prayer I ever heard at his father's funeral. It wasn't flowery and "spechul" like all the mormon prayers are. I always thought that is how you should pray--from the heart.

mormons should stop opening their prayers with "dear heavenly father" and start saying "pay lay ale".

It is the true order of prayer after all. I'd like to see how that would go over in sacrament meeting.

My parents were converts, they prayed using you and your(s). A very big no no according to the leaders/profits.

There would be a Sunday school lesson about showing respect with that flowery language: thou thee thine thy

And then my Mom (they wouldn't dare ask my Dad because he would say whatever came into his mind) would pray in Sacrament~ I think it was the closing prayer because the church had a silly rule about ph holders only being permitted to open the meeting with the all mighty mouse priesthood. Of course, they wisely never told her anything.

I hated sitting still for really long prayers either about nothing or about super personal crap. Nothing tested my ADHD quite like being forced to sit with my head bowed, eyes closed, waiting for someone to finish their personal convo with god about stuff that wasn't relevant to the class or event.

Funnily enough, I don't think I felt insecure about my own prayers. One time my grandfather tried to get to me about saying a by rote blessing for a meal(you know the one, I don't even need to type the words out, because I'm positive you've heard the signature terms in it). But then I noticed that even though he didn't use the same typical Mormon food blessing language I did, his food blessings were very similar every time he said them too. What a load of bull.

I honestly thought when being "taught" the true order of prayer in the temple, that this special way of praying was going to clear up my confusion. I was so dense that I thought that this "correct" way of praying would be secretly uttered when a small group of endowed members would congregate.

Before I had a chance to embarrass myself at the MTC, another elder who was equally confused stood up and began to call out "Oh God hear the words of my mouth" (they had just changed it from pay lay ale ~1990). He had been asked to pray and he was using his new "knowledge" from the temple ceremony. I didn't know whether to laugh, cry or wince. The MTC branch president had a heart attack trying to get him to stop.

This is hilarious!! He made the disastrous and fortunately rare mistake of actually believing the nonsense in the temple.

The Lafferty brothers made a similar mistake, actually believing the nonsense about the throat slashing penalty. That was not hilarious.

I never liked being the pray-er in church. But almost as bad was listening to a retired Seminary teacher in the last ward I attended. He was called on to pray often and felt he had an obligation to teach a sermon in his prayer. "Father in Heaven please help us to remember what Nephi said about Father Lehi's dream in the Book of Mormon so that we will strive to hold to the iron rod" or some similar drivel.
He always made sure to impress everyone with his vast knowledge.

I may have been called once to say a prayer. Hated it. I don't pray to this day. Waste of time.

When I was 16 praying over the bread and water, I had a bishop with an axe to grind because he couldn't stop me from listening to heavy metal music. Found fault with everything I did from the length and color of my tie to the way I walked and everything I between. He was a stickler for perfection in those prayers, not just perfect wording but flawless, fluid recital. A pause, stutter. Cough, clearing of the throat, and it was to be redone.

Bishop Asswipe would assign who does which. 1st time was bread. I repeated 2x. Next week water, 6x repeats, followed by a trip to the bishops office after meeting where I was chastised repeatedly that I wasn't taking it seriously and the lord would cause me to faulter as consequence for sins and my music.

Week 3, I was assigned bread chant. Once....wrong twice wrong....3 nope, 4 nope, 5 nope. I lost count. I asked the good lad to my side what I was doing wrong, and he shrugged shoulders. I gave it one last try. Slowly, dead pan, word for word. 3/4 of the way through, he used the nice controll panel to the side of the bishops chair and cut the Mike. I was asked to sit down and gladly did. He then had his son 1 year my elder recite the incantation for the mormon version of transubstanciation (oh I spelled that good) he only stumbled and corrected himself twice, but it was good. The spell took hold, and the mid meeting snack was passed.

This was then followed by a pulpit tirade from bishop asswipe about the seriousness and sacredness of the sacrement. This was the last time I blessed anything.

I hated speaking in church. I hated praying in church.

The question is, why did I keep going??? Not sure. I KNEW it was bunk. At times I tried to convince myself, but the mental gymnastics were too great. I read the book of moron, doctrine of lies & pearl of great swine repeatedly. No witness, no burning feeling. My prayers gave my the negative answer. But I kept going.

Occasionally still do. But for my own anterior motives. Politics and family reasons.

When they ask you to pray in church and you repeatedly, consistently say no, I'd think they would get the message. No, they just ask more.

You could learn public speaking in a Mormon church for only 10% of your income, or you could go to Toastmasters for almost nothing.

It has become a joke!!
Offered by people who are not asked to speak it gives oportunity for a brief, and sometimes not so brief, sermon



Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 12/13/2021 12:11PM by thedesertrat1.