That's It, Isn't It?

January 18, 2015

On a Sunday at 7:30 am my alarm clock woke me up. On a Sunday! At 7:30 am!! The good thing was that because of my nervousness I wasn’t tired at all.  My mother had allowed me to take the car, which was great because Buses aren’t really useful on Sunday mornings. I picked up my grandma and drove towards the church. It was cold and windy and I wanted to die because I was really scared. I don’t even know why.

A million of ‘What If’s were buzzing through my mind. Fortunately my grandma wasn’t nervous at all. If she hadn’t been with me I probably wouldn’t have stepped into the building.      

At the inside of the building there were many young men in dark suits with name badges. They looked like some FBI special agents. Had we just entered a church or had we entered a police department? Those special agents greeted us politely but I could see in their faces that they were confused because they didn’t know us. I told them that Sister Elsa and Sister Belle had invited us. Their eyes lit up immediately and one of them said that he would go and get Sister Elsa. These agents didn’t look a day older than me but according to their badges they were called “Elders”. Weird, weird…

I only met Sister Elsa for the third time that day but it was more like meeting a good old friend. She was – of course – smiling brightly and introduced us to some people. Oh how I like meeting new people! It’s absolutely not awkward at all! Okay, to be honest, it really wasn’t that bad. I mean, yeah, I was my socially awkward self but all the people we met were pretty much the opposite. They were super friendly, brightly smiling, talkative (!) human beings. Sister Belle was engaged in a conversation so we only exchanged friendly nods.

We were told that church on Sunday consisted of three parts; each one was about an hour long. The first part was called ‘Relief Society’ or something like that. It was for women aged 18 and older. Men and children were in different ‘meetings’.

They sang a lot during that part and talked about an author I had never heard of. Everything would have been totally fine if they hadn’t talked about husbands. Yeah, that’s right. Husbands. They had some words on a blackboard. I think these words were: children, husband, god, family, church, job, friends and hobbies. A woman was supposed to arrange those words in order of priority. ‘God’ was already put in first position.

The Lady arranged these words like this: God, husband, children, family, church, job, friends, and hobbies. If I have had to do it that day, it would have looked like this: god, children, friends, family, husband, job, hobbies, church. The lady’s order would have been fine with me too because I thought it was her opinion, but then the woman that led the ‘lesson’ agreed with her and emphasized the importance of the husband. Apparently the husband was the most important ‘thing’ after God. A wife was supposed to obey her husband. I was just sitting there…stunned.

That was an impossible thought for me. Let’s just say I don’t have the best experiences with men (though I personally have never been in a relationship before but shush!!) and ever since I can think I always wanted to be independent … I didn’t even have plans to marry. Obedience to the husband didn’t sound any better to me than getting hit by a car or cut into pieces. At that moment I decided that this church was not for me. Still, I wanted to ask the Sisters about it first … just to be sure.

For the next hour we went into a smaller room with only 10 people or something. (I didn’t count ‘em). I still haven’t figured out the actual sense of that part but it’s like a more specific lesson about a smaller topic. I think it was about what happens after death. We had already talked about that with the Sisters so it wasn’t that interesting. Anyway, I didn’t really listen because I was busy laughing at Sister Elsa’s Bible. It was the smallest edition of the Bible I had ever seen! Like seriously, you’d need a magnifying glass to properly read it.

The last act was the ‘sacrament meeting’. My grandma and I were told that it was the most important part but to be honest, it was the most boring part. I really had some trouble staying awake. Probably it was because I wasn’t nervous anymore and I could feel the tiredness now.

People prayed, sang, preached and passed around the sacrament, which consisted of blessed water and bread. Sounds weird, doesn’t it? I thought it was completely weird! But then something happened that really struck me.

A man announced that some missionaries would leave today to continue their mission in another city. Sister Belle was one of them. She would go to another city and then she would go back home, which was far, far away from Germany. I would never see her again. It was like a kick in the gut.

I mean yes, I had only met her three times now but I already really liked her and Sister Elsa. I was really sad to hear that she would leave. And she clearly wasn’t happy about it either. She had been in our city (let’s call it Arendelle to make things easier :D And yes, I LOVE Frozen!! ;P) for a few months now. She probably met some great people in Arendelle and that she had to leave seemed unreal. No matter how much fun I have had with Sister Elsa, I left the church with a really bad feeling that day.

I said my goodbyes, thanked her for everything and wished her all the best. There was nothing more you could do. 

And ever since that day I can’t stop thinking about it. I’m seriously so sad! Yes, I knew that missionaries don’t stay forever but I never really thought about what it meant. I’m the kind of person who quickly hates people or likes them. And if I like them, I like them a lot! Most of the people I talked to that day were missionaries. That meant most of the people I talked to and I liked would be leaving forever sooner or later. That sucked!

I found out that missionaries get a call that informs them if they will stay or leave every six weeks. If I decided to meet Sister Elsa and her new, still unknown colleague again, it would only be a matter of time until Sister Elsa would be gone too… and then the new colleague, and the next one, and so on. It’s an endless cycle of making new friends and loosing them again. Unfortunately, I’m absolutely no person for goodbyes. I cling to well known things. Months after graduating High School I still wish I could go back because I miss school so freaking much and I know that I will miss Sister Belle for quite a while. If I get to know Sister Elsa better and then she leaves in a few weeks … that would hurt! 

I do believe in God now. I do believe in the Bible. I won't stop looking for the right religion! But after the husband-thing and the saying goodbye part … I don't think that The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints would make me happy.

Skirt Alert

January 17, 2015

My Birthday was on Friday. It was a great day but I couldn’t really focus on anything. I was thinking about Sunday nonstop. The Sisters had told us to wear a skirt. My grandma immediately said that she wouldn’t wear a skirt but I wasn’t really game enough to do so… 

I never wear skirts! I’m a Jeans-T-Shirt-Converse kinda girl. Needless to say that I didn’t even own a proper skirt at that time. In addition, I had no idea what a ‘proper-church-skirt’ looked like. My mother told me that it - at least - needed to be knee-length. Great, the only skirt in my possession was shorter. 

I spent hours to search for church-appropriated skirts on the net. I ordered some, using the express delivery, but of course they didn’t arrive in time. On Saturday I begged my mother to go skirt shopping with me. I have no idea why she agreed because she had said that she wouldn’t support me with the whole Mormon thing, but she did. She even paid for the skirts we bought! Those skirts weren’t exactly pretty (and I look absolutely stupid in a skirt!!) but they would work.

Saturday night... I was so freaking nervous! I don’t exactly enjoy meeting new people (I hate it!) and a whole church full of new people was enough to completely freak me out. I tried on hundreds of outfits but I didn’t like a single one because, yeah, skirts just look incredibly ridiculous on me! And those long skirts made me look like an old cat lady!!

Nevertheless, with the help of my whole family I managed to choose an outfit that didn’t feel too weird. I listened to Taylor Swift’s ‘Shake It Off’ a couple of times and tried to shake off my nervousness and the thoughts of everything that could go wrong. It helped… at least until my alarm clock woke me up the next morning.  

        

Grandmotherly Companion

January 16, 2015

The sisters had asked me to read the introduction of the Book of Mormon and to pray for an answer to the question whether the Book was true or not. I really read the first few pages of the Book of Mormon and I also prayed. That felt incredibly weird. It’s one thing to pray when you believe in God…it’s another to pray when you don’t.

They told me that answers could and would come in different ways. The most common one, though, was a feeling; a feeling of warmth or love, peace or happiness, patience or goodness, etc.

I didn’t really believe it. I didn’t think that I would get an answer of any kind… and I was right. I prayed and nothing happened…I actually felt pretty ridiculous after praying. I was sure that ridiculousness wasn’t a feeling on their list. Nevertheless, I was looking forward to meeting them again. 

When my parents saw how enthusiastic and excited I was about the first meeting and the ones that would follow, they were pretty horrified. They thought that I would finally be ‘cured’ of my ‘Mormon-obsession’ after I had actually met some. But I wasn’t. The opposite was the case.

I also told my grandma about the missionaries and when she heard how excited I was, she decided that she wanted to meet them too. It was a relief that she didn’t immediately try to dissuade me from meeting them again.

So, my grandma joined the second meeting. That one was way more interesting than the first one. Why? Because on the one hand the main topic (Where do we come from and what happens after death?) was more interesting, and on the other hand because my grandma, knowing quite a bit about the Bible, could discuss things with them. The girls did a very good job though and could clear away many of our doubts.

At the end of the meeting I was asked to pray again. Fortunately, I was mentally prepared this time. Being prepared was useless though… it was at least as embarrassing as it was the first time. Still, the missionaries invited my grandma and me to church on Sunday and we agreed. Sucking at praying was apparently no reason to ban somebody from going to church.

That night, before I went to bed, I read another few pages in the Book of Mormon and I prayed for an answer. I know, it’s completely insane, but I swear, when I finished my prayer I felt a sudden wave of excitement. It was incredibly strong. It was as if someone had just told me that there would be a Frozen-sequel! Well, ok…maybe not that strong, but it was clearly there and I had no explanation for it.

Normal Humans After All

January 15, 2015

On Monday evening (January 5, 2015) I realized that Mormons were indeed pretty normal human beings. At least “my” missionaries were. I liked Sister Elsa and Sister Belle (remember, I changed their names ;D) from the first moment on. Sister Elsa was only 19 years old and Sister Belle 22. I was still 18 that day but both of them looked way younger than me. They were from pretty cool places around the world and German wasn’t their mother tongue. Still, we could communicate in German…and that really impressed me.

We did some small talk before they carefully started to move on to the actual topic: their religion. They wanted to know where I had heard about Mormons. I truthfully explained that The Piano Guys were to blame. To my surprise, both of them didn’t only know The Piano Guys, they were actually pretty fond of them! Yes okay, I admit it, at that point they had already kinda won me over.

They were incredibly friendly and polite, smiled all the time (can you get sore muscles from smiling all the time?) and never disagreed with me, even though I’m pretty sure that most of the stuff I said was nonsense. They gave me a Book of Mormon and a brief summary of its content. They only asked easy questions, like e.g. “Which role does religion play in your life?”. Well, that question was easy for me to answer at that moment because a simple “Actually no role at all” did the job. If they asked me again today…oh man, that would be extremely difficult to answer!

Their incredibly sweet English accents made them even more likeable to me. I’m obsessed with the USA and the English language! (Even though I really don’t enjoy talking English because of my good, old frenemy “th”) I was absolutely impressed by their great German speaking skills after only a few months of being in Germany. If you sent me to France, and I learned that language in school for almost 7 years, I’d be totally lost. They didn’t learn German in school before they came here and still we could talk in German. Those Mormons must be linguistic geniuses!

What strikes me most, though, is that I seriously prayed at the end of the meeting. For the first time in my life!! It was 110% embarrassing and I had no idea what to say or how ‘prayers’ work, but I did it nevertheless. I’m sure it was the worst prayer anyone had ever spoken and you probably can’t even call it a prayer, but still, it was a pretty formative experience.

Before they left we made another appointment…the journey has just begun. 

(Yes I know, I already used this video for the "Who Am I"-Page but I just really love this song and it really fits this post … actually it would fit every post but yeah, I really like it, so deal with it! :D) 

I'm A Weird Person

January 14, 2015

January 1, 2015, afternoon:

My cell phone rings. It’s an unknown number. I’ve got a friend… she’s extremely annoying and always calls with an unknown number. I think it’s her and don’t answer the phone because I don’t feel like talking to her right now. A few minutes later my mailbox informs me that someone left a message. I never check my mailbox. I want to put my phone away, but for some reason I can’t, and I call my mailbox to listen to the message. I’m honestly surprised when a woman explains that they are missionaries of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (Wow, so many ‘of’s in that sentence) and that I should call them back. Why I’m surprised? Not even 12 hours have passed since I filled in the form! I really didn’t expect to hear from them that quickly. And it’s New Year’s Day! It’s a holiday, isn’t it? Aren’t they celebrating with their families and friends?

My family wants to know why I look as if I’ve just seen a ghost. I tell them about the unexpected call and they laugh. That doesn’t help! I have no idea how I should react to the call. Should I call back? Do I really want to meet these Missionaries? Maybe I made my decision too fast. I should just ignore them, shouldn’t I?

Instead of helping me my family scares me and tells me horror stories about sects and that I will never be able to get out again, once they caught me. In addition, my mother says that if I really want to meet them, I have to meet them somewhere else. She doesn’t want any “sect-people” in her house. I feel a little sick to my stomach and decide to ignore the call. But I have a feeling that it won’t be the last call…and I’m determined to answer the next one.

January 2, 2015, evening:

I’m currently watching “Lost” with my mother. My phone rings. Unknown number. This time I know immediately who’s at the other end of the phone. “The Mormons are calling!” I say wide-eyed. My mother tells me that I should answer the phone because they won’t give up, but I’m too afraid.  Again, with a strange feeling in my stomach, I ignore the call.

January 3, 2015, at noon:

It’s Saturday. I pretty much just got up after staying awake half the night. The doorbell rings. I think it’s the postman and I’m about to open the door, when my mother says, that it’s probably a Mormon. I look at her in shock and beg her to tell them I’m not home. I look absolutely shitty and am not even fully dressed! She doesn’t say anything in response and opens the door. Those are really the Mormons. I hear them ask for me. It’s so weird, but I seriously feel like a serial killer who’s wanted by the FBI.

Of course, my mother being my mother, she completely ignores my plea and calls me. No kidding, for a second I look for places I could hide. Maybe the curtain? Or behind the sofa? If I’m quick I could also take the back entrance and run away. My mother excuses herself for a moment and closes the door. I give her my best “What the heck?”-Expression. She shrugs it off and tells me that the Mormons were two young girls of my age with long skirts who looked just like Jehovah's Witnesses. I tell her that I don’t want to talk to them right now. We have a short discussion. I win. “What should I tell them?” my mother asks annoyed. “I don’t know! Just say I’m taking a shower or something,” I answer. She rolls her eyes. “Tell them I’ll call 'em back!”, I add before she opens the door again. The girls politely leave a card and go. I feel sorry for them but I really couldn’t get myself to talk to them at that moment.

Once again I’m left with a terrible feeling in my stomach and don’t know what to do. I don’t even know why the thought of speaking to them makes me freak out so much. It was my decision to fill in the form, wasn’t it? And I wanted to talk to Mormons for months now, didn’t I? So what the heck is my problem now?

My father comes downstairs and wants to know who it was at the door. When we tell him who it was and that I refused to talk to them he tells me that I am stupid. I should just talk to them already so that I finally accept that Mormons are at least as crazy as Jehovah’s Witnesses.

I am pulled back and forth. One thing’s sure though: I have to call them back now because they will definitely come back, and my mother won’t lie for me again. I ask my parents for advice but they just say that I have to decide it myself. I had gotten myself into this situation… I am on my own.  

I hate to talk to strangers on the phone - I know, I’m a weird person - I just never know what to say. Their number on my phone is a cell phone number. I want to text them but I don’t know if their cell phones can receive text messages. Do they even know how to write a text message? And if I text them…should I ask for a meeting or should I just tell them that everything has been a huge misunderstanding? I could say I was drunk or something and my friends forced me to fill in that form. No, that’s too rude. And I shouldn’t lie anymore.

Hours later:

I finally decide to send a text. Well, it’s more of a tiny, but very formal e-mail. I ask them if they’d be free on Monday evening for a talk. (I even used a complimentary close!). They answer almost immediately. Very informal and with a smiley! A smiley!! Like seriously, I thought they wouldn’t know what a text message is, but they even use smileys! Maybe, against all expectations, they are normal humans after all.

Anyway, after a few more texts the meeting is set up. And they would be coming to our place on Monday because my mother decided that it was safer for me to meet “sect-people” at our house than somewhere else. I can barely sleep the following few nights.

To be continued…

(Okay, the present tense thing doesn’t really work for me. Gonna write the next parts in past tense again :D)