Church-tales, woo-oo!

My nephew is going on a two year mission for the Church of Latter Day Saints to Zurich, Switzerland. His farewell (where he is invited to speak in church before leaving) was Sunday. After church we gathered at my sister’s house and ate food and told some of our favorite church-tales. There are too many to write in one post but here are some of our favorites.

Amy was at the farewell too. Her ward provides some of the best church stories. I went with Amy to a primary program in her ward. It was unlike any primary program I've ever been to. All the kids were seated on the stage. One girl did leg lifts over her head, white tights flashing, while the boy next to her blew snot bubbles. At one point a mom pulled a microphone out of the stand and accidently smacked a kid in the face – the congregation winced in sympathy during the two seconds of silence before the kid’s banshee wail echoed through the chapel.

Years ago in their ward's fast and testimony meeting a young boy, about seven years old, shared his experience with prayer. He began, “I lost by teddy bear a few days ago and I couldn’t find him. So then I prayed. And I turned around and there was the little S.O.B. sitting right there!” Except he didn’t abbreviate. His parents shrank in their seats.

In the same meeting another young boy stood up to share his testimony. He stood with his hands on the pulpit and the bishopric lowered the pulpit to his height. He began with the classic opening, “I’d like to bear my testimony,” but it quickly crescendoed into something else. It sounded like this: “I’d like to bear my testimonyow ow ow OW OW OWIE OWIE!” The bishopric lowered the pulpit onto his hands!

Tiffany, my sister, dry heaved in church when we saw a larger youth hike his shirt up a bit, dig around in his belly button, and eat what he scavenged. We still shudder anytime we talk (or, turns out, type) about it.

My neighbor, Carly, got shooed out of sacrament by her mom one time because she started laughing so hard. It was Father’s Day and the primary children went to the front to sing the primary song “I’m so Glad When Daddy Comes Home.” The song goes, “I’m so glad when daddy comes home, glad as I can be! Clap my hands and shout for joy and climb upon his knee. Put my arms around his neck, hug him tight like this, pat his cheek then give him what? A great big kiss!” Well, one boy's dad was in a wheelchair. At the song’s end the boy yelled, louder than anyone else, “Give him what? A great big KICK IN THE PANTS!”

Kids in church are the best. Although grownups can be great as well.

I was sitting in between my sister Sabra and her husband and my mom and dad in a sacrament meeting a few years ago. Sabra’s husband got up a few times and walked out. After one exit my dad leaned forward and in a teas

ing whisper said to Sabra, “Incontinence?” She leaned forward, looked puzzled and answered what she thought was the question, “Africa, Asia, South America…” Mom and I couldn’t stop laughing.

One time, we arrived at church a little late and there were no available seats. I had on a pair of new high-heeled boots. As I tiptoed through the cultural hall with three metal chairs I slipped and fell. Metal chairs banged against each other and clattered to the gym floor with a resounding echo. It seemed like everyone turned around to see what caused the racket. Knowing that only people seated in the back would be able to see me on the ground that's where I stayed until people turned back around.

Erin and Liesel, friends and old co-workers like to retell the story of their friend who was in church during a baby blessing. Everything proceeded as normal until the nervous father gave the baby the Melchizedek priesthood instead of a baby blessing. He stopped, looked up, mouth open, eyes wide as he realized what he had said. He looked around, bowed his head, waved a hand in a circle over the baby as he said, “UNDONE!”

Church is typically more spiritual than entertaining, but sometimes its definitely more entertaining.