I LOVED her. I loved writing those essays. I love her response to you.

I want to go see if I can find my essays….

This was a lovely, powerful post. Thank you.

Actually, I have two or three of them; women my five-year-old twins seek for and love to go sit by after taking the sacrament. All of them are empty-nesters who have enough love to share with our family. My 3 and 1 year olds are just clingy enough that they won’t let anyone else have them and just sweet enough that we don’t have to take them out much, but we’ve had many years of foyer sitting, and the twins were just two when they started seeking out their special friends. One of the reasons I love my ward is how many older couples and women are willing to serve and share without making me feel like I’m a burden to them. They genuinely seem to love my kids, and it is a great blessing.

As these comments have trickled in I’ve thought more about being in the foyer. Honestly the times I have been sitting on the bench, but have mentally been in the foyer (or parking lot) is when I’m critical. It doesn’t feel good but it seems to be my fallback when I feel weak, failing, and criticized myself. Which is counterintuitive. Knowing how wounded I feel when I am criticized, why would I criticize others?

It is amazing that when I am feeling critical if I stop and say a silent prayer asking God to help me stop, and push myself to look for the positive, I get so much more out of the meeting, out of life. I still stick by my original comment that service helps too. I see more of the whole picture of a person and understand their weaknesses in context, gaining compassion.

I have made a friend this year who has dramatically improved my church experience. I am 30; she is 48. My four kids range from 8 years to 7 months; her six are ages 26 to 11. While I spend most of my church time in the foyer, she has grown accustomed to feasting on the messages and feeling the Spirit. The thing that is unique about this friend is that she hasn’t forgotten what it’s like to be in the foyer. As our friendship developed, our families began to share a church bench. Now when my baby or toddler needs a break, my friend (or her husband!) takes the child so I can listen. She brings books and pens for my bigger kids and tries to entertain them. Her service has had a profound impact on the quality of my sacrament meeting and Relief Society experiences. There are many in my ward who notice and comment on how “full my hands are” or what an “active/crazy/difficult/mischievous” toddler I have — but this friend HELPS.

Being able to physically sit in a meeting and be somewhat less distracted allows me to occasionally enter a holy place at church. I’m so grateful for the friend who is making this possible for me. And you can bet that when I am able, I will look for the moms in the foyer and try my best to help.

I have feasted on your comments, all of them. Heidi, your insight about foyers and mothering really resonated with me (maybe it’s because we’re going on a week of full-time togetherness and I’m feeling less patient and engaged as the holiday wears on). I think we’re all hoping for more “holy place of motherhood” moments.

Lee, thank you for that reminder about the Book of Mormon and its challenge and nourishment. (Incidentally I wrote that paper after reading about Lehi’s dream and the people who partook of the fruit but were still ashamed. Lots to think and wonder about there.)

Terresa, beautiful comment about different foyers, different chapels for different people. And similarly, Jenny, I love your take on examining where we are in the building and how we move in and out of foyers and chapels as we progress (and backslide).

Go, Jen!
Christie and Natalie, thanks for your kind words and for chiming in. Happy new year.

Kathryn, CatherineWO, and Heidi I hadn’t thought about the impact that physically being in the foyer has on our feelings of fellowship and feeling the Spirit (it’s been several years since I bounced little ones out of the flowered sofa). Thanks for bringing that perspective to the discussion. I’ll look around more carefully next Sunday at those who in similar situations. Is there anything others could do to make it easier? (Sounds like making better adaptations and accommodations would be a good first step in Catherine’s case!)

When I first read this (& it was truly lovely, Annie. What a great look back to your 17 year old self! Priceless!), my thoughts immediately turned to a much loved aunt who *constantly* has to redefine her testimony when many of her children are in the chapel, saving her a seat and hoping to see her slide in next to them. I know she wants that too, but for her its hard. I feel grateful that for me, it has been relatively easy to have faith and to believe. I know it is one of the gifts spoken of in D&C, and I never take it lightly. My aunt has many, many gifts that I have not been blessed with. But as I have spent the last little while thinking about this analogy of the foyer I have been realizing and recognizing that *every one* has a foyer in their spiritual lives. We are all at different levels and places in strengthening our testimonies; our only comparison of growth and yes, sometimes a little back-sliding, should be with ourselves. If I feel *comfortable* and *secure* in the [my] chapel, then honestly, maybe I have quietly slipped into the [my] foyer. There is always an oportunity AND invitation to come even closer to Heavenly Father and the Savior. When I start feeling like I’m doing enough (which, because of the demand of my and my husband’s callings right now–it’s an easy thing to do!) then it’s time to re-examine where I am in the building. Does that make any sense?
This was a great post that I will be pondering for a while. Thank-you, Annie– and happy new year!

I think all the people who get a little “too smart” for the church have not really answered the intellectual summons of the book. Who has even scratched the surface? So there’s a foyer worth getting out of.

This is a simple yet brilliant analogy and will stay with me long after reading it tonight.