Posted by:
Lost
(
)
Date: May 01, 2011 04:00PM
In another thread, MIB was talking about the pressure for young men in the LDS church to go on missions. I posted about my Family’s horrible reaction to my deciding to go into military service in that thread. MIB made a follow up comment that it’s important for people to grasp just how tough it is on young men, especially those that just not to go. I agree.
So I thought I’d share my story so that perhaps those lurking will appreciate just what kind of stuff goes down when a young man chooses not to go on a mission.
For me, Lost, my misery started when I was 19 years old. I was held back a year and so I was a Senior in HS. All during that year, I constantly heard about the need to go on a mission. There was some concern about what Lost would do, because basically I was the ward loser. I had only achieved Star Scout Rank in Scouting, I had never been a leader or in any presidency. I was never much of a success at Scripture Chases and was just plain average. To be honest, I was a pretty ugly boy/man-child.
So there was a lot of gossip, which my mother in particular did nothing to help. Just to illustrate how messed up she was, she thought nothing of bearing her testimony telling the ward that her son had a problem with bed wetting and that through prayers and the guidance of the holy spirit, this was resolved. Actually it was resolved when I outgrew it, but hey since when has truth ever mattered when it come to faith (self) promoting stories? It was, however; grossly embarrassing and never forgotten: I was the guy who had pissed his bed. Gee, thanks Mom.
The bishop had droned on and on as had my parents about how I must go on a mission. I didn’t want to go to college; I needed a break from school. What I really wanted to do was travel the country and see things, but that was impossible. I didn’t have any money and zero support. I was going to go on a mission, except that nobody asked my opinion. Or more accurately, didn't listen to it because it wasn't what they wanted to hear.
I had two fantastic uncles on my father’s side who were both military men. My one uncle, who I will call John (not his real name) was a SEAL. He was the one who I confided in, who taught me how to defend myself and basically listened to me. I have a lot of wonderful memories fishing, hunting for gators and just having a grand time with him. I'll always consider John my surrogate father, because he ACTED more like a father than my real father did. John did not believe the LDS church. He told me that he believed in God, but that ultimately once on earth, its up to us. God doesn’t interfere and you’re on your own. Later in life, I now really respect that opinion. John told me great stories about his military service and I wanted to serve as well. I knew I’d never be a SEAL, but I liked the idea of getting into physical shape, having a job and seeing the world. So I decided I wanted to go into the military. I really looked into it, so this wasn't an off the cuff decision.
All holy hell broke loose. My family unloaded all manner of crap on me once I told them my decision. All kinds of threats, punishments, and tons and tons of verbal abuse we heaped upon me. If there was a name to describe me, I was called it. Interviews and whispers at church. I was blacklisted. I was shunned. I wasn’t allowed to date any good LDS girls. My girlfriend at the time broke up with me, because she would only date someone who, “ Wanted to marry in the temple.” I wanted this too, but since I wasn’t going on a mission, it wasn’t likely to happen. All manner of nasty whispers and viciousness occurred. Vandalism, etc. Unpleasant. You would have thought I was a murderer.
During this mess, I became a man. I discovered deep inside myself steel that I didn’t know I had. I was going to decide what I would do with life and that was final. My uncles were both away serving, but their survival lessons really got me through it all. I simply hunkered down and weathered the storm. Despite all efforts, my family and ward couldn't break me or change my mind. They couldn't buy me off either. The bishop even offered to make me 1st Assistant to Priest's Quorum if I would just commit to going on a mission. Serious stuff for a 19 year old to deal with. But I knew what they were up to and wasn't buying it.
In desperation, my parents turned toward the Bishop and Stake President claiming I had an evil spirit. I repeated over and over that I felt a mission wasn’t right for me. I wanted to serve my country. "What did I know?," the adults would say? "I’m only 19 and a fool." The military was full of drug addicts and sex maniacs. I was throwing my life away. Hmm.
How could honorable service to my country be throwing my life away? I was getting experience in a trade. I was seeing the world while getting paid. At the end of my service if I didn’t stay in, there would be money for college. It was perfect for me, I felt. No, you fool—only a mission will do. But I would have none of it. Once my military service was over, if I wanted to go on a mission then, I could do so. At least I would have the money to pay my own way. Not acceptable. You will go at 19 on a mission, period. Mission calls are not granted to young men over 20.
Finally, all the screaming and shouting culiminated with a command appearance before a GA. I won’t give his name for privacy reasons, but he was well known. He was pompous, arrogant, bombastic and a complete jerk. He kept calling me “son” trying these little power head games. I calmly and rationally told him that I felt going into military service was the proper thing in my life. He disagreed. I was disobeying the prophet. God would punish me if I went into military service. There would be a mighty battle (after all-Jesus second coming is right around the corner) and I would die horribly. He went on and on about the wounds I would suffer and how someone would castrate me! Un-frickin-believable. However, if I went on a mission I would be transformed. I would become handsome. (Gee Thanks, dude) I would baptize many many people. I would return from my mission and marry a beautiful daughter of Zion. She would be so beautiful that the heavens would weep. (I kid you not, he said this) He wanted to give me a speshul blessing right on the spot. I told him, “No-Thank you.” I appreciated what he had to say, but I had made my decision and I was sticking to it because it was the right thing for me.
My family went ballistic aftwards as did my ward. I was shunned. My parents refused to talk to me. My sisters ignored me. My maternal grandparents ignored me. Gossip at church was flung high and low. School became hell. But they had seriously underestimated me. I was going to serve my country.
Many more visits and interviews occurred. Many sad faces and head shakes. Finally my father threatened that if I went into the military that I would be unwelcome to return home.
Fine, I said. “That is your choice.” No, he said. “It is your choice for choosing this wicked path and not following the advice or your parents and elders. “ “Your mother and I have failed, but sometimes there is nothing good parents can do.” Then he hit me and left. As I stood there bleeding I knew that I would never return to my parent’s house again once I left.
Is this a Forever Family? Not a chance.
Finally, it was my day to report for service. I was excited and nervous. Basic training was reported to be tough and my uncles had prepared me with pretty much what to expect. I had been working out and running a lot, so I felt prepared. Then came the last little hitch from my parents. They refused to drive me to the induction center. I had to walk the 30 miles on foot. I didn’t have cab money. So I started walking and fortunately a good Samaritan gave me a lift so I made it on time.
Basic training was tough, but considering what my home life had been, it was a breeze. Then came mail call about 10 days into basic training. It was a letter from my family. I was certain they had finally accepted that I was serious about serving my country. Yep--Unfortunately for me.
They had held a family court of love in absentia.
I had been excommunicated from my family.
Wow. My Family had all signed the letter (those that could sign it) and I cried.
Even though life had been miserable growing up a mormon-they were family and I loved them. Now they were gone. I never saw them again to this day. (I saw them, but they acted as if I was dead)
My squad mates in Basic Training were terrific and I had a lot of support.
A Forever Family???
Only if you do exactly what you are told: Pay, Pray and Obey.
Every young man MUST go on a mission.
Otherwise, you may lose your family.
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