The Great Secret of The Book of Mormon

Mormon Joke

Once two Missionaries decided to go pheasant hunting. Since they were inexperienced they just asked the sporting goods dealer to fix them up with everything necessary for a successful day. On his recommendation they bought shotguns, shells, hunting clothing, licenses, a bird dog, etc. Early the next morning the went afield with great excitement to pursue the elusive pheasant; but immediately encountered difficulty getting their new bird dog to perform. Finally one of them became so frustrated he said,

"I don't know what that guy sold us, but it ain't no bird dog! I've had it with this mutt; I'm goanna shoot him!"

"Wait! Wait", implored the other, "we paid $500 bucks for that dog, give him just one more chance."

"All right", said the first reluctantly. "You throw him up once more, and if he don't fly I'm goanna waste him!"

Overwhelmed

The eighth move went well. We got settled into a roomy townhouse just South of a very large airport. Convert got his workman's compensation and disability, and we all went on welfare. The church continued to get their 10%, and Convert and I kept our good standing in the church. Convert saw his doctor once a week in order to keep his workman's' comp. He started going to a community college, taking classes in heating, ventilation and air conditioning. I started a part time job to supplement the disability.
I came home from work one evening and the house was a mess and there were strangers sitting in my living room. Convert explained to me that this family, a man, woman and an infant, needed a place to stay for awhile. That place was my home. I didn't have a say in the matter, due to Convert being the Mormon authority in the family. To make things worse, he decided to start working on appliances in my kitchen (he'd pick up old appliances that people had thrown out).
By this time I was overwhelmed. Between the church duties, going to work, taking care of the children, Converts' so called inability to work, his going to school, his doctor's appointments, and these strangers living in my home... I had nothing left. I was exhausted. I needed some advice, some kind of comfort, a shoulder to cry on... something.
I thought back to when I was young. I was taught to go to the spiritual head of the family for guidance in all matters. Well, the spiritual head of our nucleus family was part of the problem.
I remember I went over to my parents home and sat down next to my oldest brother (the returned Mormon missionary). I gave him a short story of my situation, he advised me to go to the patriarch of the family. I got up off the couch and went to the dining room where my dad was sitting. I sat down next to him and explained what I was going through, and that I was stressed out over it all.
My dad looked at me and lovingly told me how he was well aware of the situation. He said he had been praying about what I needed to do in my case. I was attentively listening. He said I was to divorce my husband. He went on to tell me that I was to let him and my mom adopt my children. Last, I was to move back to Utah and forget I even had a marriage and two children. I felt violated.

Graduation!

I never thought that the day would come when I wouldn't have to go to school. I graduated with honors, short of requiring me to walk on stage. I knew that if I didn't have that major "burp [or move from Utah to Michigan]" in my life, I would have graduated with a 4.0. I went to graduation, my parents were there, then they went home. Me, I went to dinner with my brother, his girlfriend, and my boyfriend. Yes, I had a Mormon boyfriend! Of course it didn't last long.... He moved to Utah the next day with his family. Ironic? I dropped him off at his home and I left him, sobbing my eyes out. To make things worse, it was pouring rain that night. I don't know which was more wet, the car or my lap.
That night my dad told me that he knew the relationship wouldn't last. He told me that the power of the priesthood gives him the ability to discern many, many things, and that includes what happens in my life. I didn't think much of it at the time. I believed him, as usual.
I sat up that night on my bed and hashed over and over the events of the last year and a half. I thought of how there must be a Mormon man out there for me that God has chosen, and I had to find him. I was at the end of an era and now I was not considered young anymore. I didn't know really what to do with my life at this point. I had no prospect of marriage and raising a family. I kept thinking that that is what I'm to do. The church and my parents had trained me to be the best Mormon female they could possibly make me be. Marriage and having children was what I was trained in. That's it.
My mind shifted because my sister was snoring and I was tired. Instead of turning out my bedside light, I reached for my little pink box that contained stationary and addresses. These weren't just any addresses, they were addresses of Mormon missionaries that I wrote to all the time. I think I wrote to six or seven missionary men at a time. I grabbed paper and pen and wrote to one of the young men that I was in communication with. After that, I turned out the light and drifted off to sleep while thinking, I don't have to go back to high school ever again.

Adjusting

I got to the house that my parents had chosen for all us kids to live in and it was so small! A two bedroom house for nine of us in all, and the dog. My dad quickly built partial bedrooms in the basement. It's quite interesting to live so close to one another. My sister and I still resided together in the same room. How we got one of the main floor rooms, I'll never know. Plus, there was a small fenced in backyard that was as big as the sandbox back in Utah.
We all got settled in and each of us had to go to new schools. Me, I was so scared that I dove right into my school work. Now I'm in a high school that is all non-Mormon, with the exception of me and another kid. He didn't seem to care much about the school being almost free of Mormons.
I couldn't come to grips with the adjustment of being in such a large place. Not just school, but the city. I decided that the only way I'm going to deal with the whole matter was to get back into my church work. I got to know the church people quite well, and I started to get myself back into the swing of things in the church life. I held church callings and I volunteered to drive the female missionaries around a lot. I was becoming quite the missionary myself. I learned the discussions that the "called to serve" missionaries knew. I even got a binder of my own. It almost became a daily thing for me. And in the mist of all this I went to school and held a full time job.
My life seemed to be gluing itself back together, among tight quarters, and all was going smooth. I was so happy to know that I was still valued among the saints and I pulled rank quite quickly. The bishop was real pleased and so were my parents. I think.......