“Do you pray regularly?” asked the director. Never having been asked this in any interview before, I said the first thing that came to mind.
“I’m praying right now, sir.”
Where I live, plastic signs line the intersections. Elsewhere, these signs might advertise lawn care services, political candidates, or Avon representatives, but most signs in rural Virginia tell you where you can worship. One has a picture of Christ’s pointing finger, directing you to a Baptist church. Others indicate that one can enter “Our Father’s House,” praise within “Living Ministries,” or attend a Methodist, Episcopalian, Assembly of God or Catholic church all by turning one way or another.
When I began looking at preschools for my eldest son, the non-religious choices were slim. So, I picked a nice Methodist school with a contiguous cemetery, three playgrounds in the back, and a bright-faced, loud, cross-wearing teacher named Miss Betsy. I never mentioned to her or anyone else at the school that we were LDS. And in a place where so many religions co-exist, I somehow felt that being Mormon was something to hide.
I know that as a member of the LDS faith, I am distinctly peculiar. I know that I have the privilege to accept this peculiarity and share my faith anyway. I want to be more willing to stand out, stand up, and simply BE peculiar. However, until then, to those who doubt my belief or my faith, my answer is that I pray to God—and also, in fact, “I’m praying right now.”
What are your reactions to Melonie’s article?
How do you cope with being a peculiar person?
Have you ever had the literal or figurative experience, like Melonie, of being a Mormon crossing the threshold into the cathedral? What was it like? How did you feel?
Welcome to Segullah’s Blog!