2000 August 6 Sunday

"I don't particularly care whether I'm a member of a family ward or of a singles ward. I just want to be a member of a ward." For once in my life, the right words arrive at the right time.

In moving across the river to New Jersey, I never realize I move out of the New York New York Stake and therefore out of the Manhattan 8th Young Single Adult Ward. Until I mention my Edgewater, New Jersey, apartment to Bishop Johnson.

I attend the Manhattan 8th Ward for three months already, and I find my New Jersey apartment on the ward housing list.

Whenever I tell anyone at church or work where I live, the person makes the same grimace I see when I tell BYU people in Provo that I live in Sandy. A commuter is an alien.

I want to cry when Bishop Johnson says I can't be a member of his ward.

I keep my composure.

I am angry. I do not want to be a perpetual visitor.

Where will I pay my tithing? Who will sign my temple recommend?

I am a rock. Wherever I am, I will go to church on Sunday.

The Church is my life. The thought of not being able to actively participate over an extended period burns.

I walk in the rain to cool off.

"Heavenly Father, what should I do?"

The solution is simple: I write my Madison Avenue office address on my fast offering slip.

As I type this 20 years later, the New Jersey location where I live then is now within the boundaries of my current New York City Single Adult Ward.