It’s nearly a mile to the nearest house next to mine and I’m not used to hearing knocks on my door. When I heard my neighbor knock I almost hit the ceiling. I thought about hiding, but I saw it was him, so I felt safe coming to the door. (more…)

Dear Royle,

You don’t know me, but I have to tell you what I think before I hurt someone. I wouldn’t even know who you are if my mom hadn’t sent me the new church manuals this year like she does every year. She figures if I don’t go to church I might read them anyway and while browsing through the manual about your father I read about your death. (more…)

Has it come to this? Have the forces of repression and guilt so gripped us that a post like this is even necessary? Is romance on its deathbed. I’m afraid so. (more…)

The other night I was over at my neighbor Dale’s house listening to him talk about his life again and drinking some more cool-aid. That’s how it usually goes. He talks and I listen. Out of the blue he asked me if I was religious. (more…)

In the last month. (more…)

This is the first installment of The Banner Mailbag, a regular feature where Banner readers get to ask us whatever questions you want. (more…)

I just woke up after going to bed before dark. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I woke up and felt the stitches in the side of my head and remembered it wasn’t a dream. I was in the hospital.

Last night after going to bed I was trying to relax and see with my eyes shut. The room lit up bright and I opened my eyes and my bedroom was dark. I got up out of bed and looked around the house. Every door that I had shut before was open. I heard a noise like a scamper but when I went outside it was totally quiet. I walked into the field behind my house. When the ground started to vibrate under my feet I just started running. That’s the last thing I remember.

Dale says he found me hung up on his barbwire fence.

My head hurts. My hands are shaking and I feel dizzy and like I might throw up. I don’t know if it’s the concussion or what. Dale says I need some kind of counseling. I’m scared. I don’t know what’s happening to me.

Yesterday afternoon I went to a local mental health center for an assessment interview. (more…)

I don’t even know why I answer my door anymore. I probably should stop all together, but if I did I wouldn’t have anything to post about and then where would I be? (more…)

Don’t say I didn’t warn you. This is me if I was a Dungeons & Dragons character. (more…)

I know I’ve posted too much this week, but yesterday was one of the worst days of my life. The sisters came back but I didn’t even go to the door this time. I was plastered to the couch lying still, hiding, thinking I might die. (more…)

It is my pleasure to announce that another great guest blogger will be joining us and following in the footsteps of Dave. Let’s give a warm welcome to Mr. Ned Flanders. Ned’s skin is a bright yellow color and he wears a bushy mustache and glasses. He lives in Springfield with his wife Maude and two children, Rod and Todd. His blog is called Viva Ned Flanders and you should all visit it if you haven’t already. (more…)

Yesterday the sisters came back. I let them teach me the first discussion and I didn’t tell them I was a member. (more…)

Even if my mother hadn’t sent me last month’s Ensign with President Hinckley’s message tagged, high-lighted, foot-noted, and underlined I still wouldn’t have been able to escape the fact that we’re supposed to be reading the Book of Mormon.

Book of Mormon mania is taking over the bloggernacle; it’s here, here, here, and even here. It’s everywhere.

What a lot of people don’t know about me is that in spite of my attendance record I love the Book of Mormon too. And I didn’t want the Banner of Heaven to be left behind, so I made a list: THE TOP TEN BADASSES OF THE BOOK OF MORMON. (more…)

It’s unprecedented I know. But it’s a move whose time has come. (more…)

I know I shouldn’t post three days in a row, but those were really silly posts, and the Sisters came back, and I have to confess what happened to somebody before I get struck by lightning.

This time I was out back trying to keep the roof of my shed from falling off when I heard cars approaching. Two cars. I heard the doors shut. Four doors. My blood ran cold. I should have known. The Elders had come to poach me away from the Sisters. (more…)

The last post I wrote, the thirteenth comment was by Rosalynde Welch P.H.D. It really got me thinking, and as I tried to write something smart that would impress a bona fide bloggernacle celebrity my comment grew embarrassingly long and I decided to just make it a post instead. (more…)

I have this hobby. I look up diseases and conditions on the internet and check-out the lists of symptoms. As hobbies go, I can not really recommend it. (more…)

I’m beginning to wonder if the sisters are ever coming back. If they don’t I can’t really say I blame them and here’s why:

Last Saturday, not Labor Day weekend, but the weekend before that, I had Dale over for some Dr. Pepper. I’m trying to broaden his horizons beyond beer and kool-aid, but that’s beside the point. We were sitting there looking at the lay of the land, not saying a word to each other the way we usually do. Out of the blue Dale turns to me and asks me if I want to dance, which threw me for a loop because I had him figured for a heterosexual. (more…)

This isn’t exactly what I wanted to post about, that might have to wait a day or two, but it’s suddenly become important to talk about it. I guess I was naive to think when we started this blog that we’d never have to ban anybody. (more…)

I think we should all pray more. Most of you probably pray all the time I bet, so maybe you should pray less, but just with more real intent. I only say that because fewer prayers, but really meaning it, that’s what’s worked for me. I’ve recently had some prayers answered. (more…)

Greg, you’re a good kid and I love you like a brother, but you’re way off base with this, and I can only hope those were your words and not Miranda’s. DKL doesn’t need to get banned, all he needs is a big hug. (more…)

I woke up this morning and had a panicked thought. Of all the panicked thoughts I’ve had, I’ve never had this one. It was that I don’t have a thing to wear. I guess I could wear my Ramones shirt if I had to, but it still smells like beer, smoke, and country music. Pretty foul. (more…)

Never leave the house in the morning without checking your blog. Otherwise you may end up standing in the middle of a deserted church parking lot, after driving for an hour, feeling like a chump. (more…)

I should have been prepared for it, but I wasn’t. I should have seen it coming, but I didn’t. (more…)

Don’t ask. I don’t even want to talk about it.

I like to tell myself I don’t like to argue, but I don’t think it’s true. I got into two arguments this weekend and I think it’s true what they say about contention: it’s of the devil. Arguing with a Sister Missionary probably doesn’t score you any points with the Almighty. (more…)

I was really nervous to go to church this second time because I knew she’d probably be there. And she was. And I got in a fight with her, like I thought I might, but I had a plan for it. I’m good at plans. (more…)

For those of you who are convinced we aren’t real people, or have your doubts, we invite you to comment away with the others here. Please, please, please go there to tell us we don’t exist, because we are sick and tired of hearing about it. (more…)

I spoke to my daughter on the phone yesterday. It was the first time in a long, long time. (more…)

I recognize that I harmed this community and I want to take responsibility for that and apologize to it collectively. It’s a resilient place that I’m sure can withstand the harm that I’ve caused and heal itself and move on, but it’s resiliency isn’t in any way an excuse for what I’ve done, which has been a huge error in judgment on my part and was wrong. (more…)

Dear Sister Tidwell,

If you’re even just reading this sentence I am so lucky. Please don’t stop reading. Please, please, please just give me a chance to explain. Let me at least ask for your forgiveness. You don’t have to give it. Ever since my baptismal service I’ve wanted to talk to you, but you went home just a few days later, and I was so ashamed I couldn’t even get off my couch. (more…)

His house was really quiet and I knocked on the door a couple times and there was no answer. (more…)

And I started thinking horrible things, Sister Tidwell. Very bad things. (more…)