My day as a Mormon

I often hear the question, “Why do people say you’re not a Christian?”

And honestly, I don’t really know the answer. I don’t know what they think Christians do or don’t do that conflicts with being a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, sometimes called “Mormons.”

I wake up in the morning and kneel inside my covers on my bed, maybe a better Christian would kneel on the side of the bed, but it’s too cold up here in North Dakota. I pray in gratitude for our home and for protection through the night. I thank the Lord for health and pray for strength through the atonement of the Lord Jesus Christ to get me through the day. I pray for guidance for my four children eight and under. I pray for the protection of my husband as he serves in the military. I pray for family members who are struggling with their own unique challenges. And mostly I pray for the constant guidance of the Holy Ghost.

Then it’s time to wake the kids. I hate to do it, but if we don’t have scripture study in the morning it becomes an all-out rumble at night. We gather around our kitchen table and sing a hymn and have a prayer and the kids begin to eat their breakfast, while Greg, my husband, reads aloud from the Book of Mormon or Bible. The Book of Mormon is a record of people who believed in Christ and how He chastened them and led them and loved them. We only make it through about a page a day; maybe a better Christian would be able to do more.

After the kids are on the bus, I exercise and shower and play some games with my two year old. I listen, hopefully with compassion, as a friend drops by and needs to unload some doubts and fears and insecurities. Maybe a better Christian would know how to offer more comforting words. But as it is, my friend has me, so we joke a little bit and cry together a little bit. And then we hug each other and take a deep breath.

When afternoon comes around my kids come home exhausted, and I try to make peace between them as they bicker about which television show to watch and beg for me to pop some popcorn. Perhaps a more Christian mother could end the bickering with a kind word, but I snap at them. And then I apologize. And then I make the popcorn.

By 6:00, I’m ready for the day to end. But it’s family home evening. Once a week we have a lesson on either a gospel principle like faith in Christ or prayer, or just another topic that we feel like our kids need to hear about like bullying or even the infamous lesson, “Hygiene—it keeps me clean.” You can imagine what the content was for that lesson. Greg pulls aside one of the kids to help him teach the lesson and I pull aside another to choose a treat and be my helper in the kitchen. It’s divide and conquer to create unity.

We joke that family night is the only argument that begins and ends with a prayer. But this lesson goes by rather calmly and serenely. For just a moment I feel like they’re getting it. Like they understand that Christ is everything. That we can turn to Him no matter what. Maybe other Christians have more of these moments.

And then the moment’s gone, and it’s time for a rousing game of duck, duck goose. They gobble their brownies and milk, and I usher them into the bathrooms to brush away the sugar bugs. My kids change into their pajamas and climb into bed where I see them kneel under their covers to pray. They’re cold too. I wish I could show them a better example. But maybe with Christ I’m enough.

Article was written by Miranda H. Lotz

Miranda H. Lotz is a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, a U.S. Air Force wife and mother. Miranda is involved in musical theater, sings, sews, writes, and serves in the children’s “Primary” organization in her local Mormon congregation.