We moved to Boston November of 2004. I was three or four months pregnant with our son and the girls were 3 and 1 year old. The job Ray took would require him to travel two weeks out of a month. 

Housing in Boston is not cheap and it can be hard to find a place "close" to work. It took us about a week to find what I felt like would be the perfect place for us to stay. It was a cute little Tudor style townhome tucked away at the back of the complex. $1500 for 1500 sq ft that had been "updated" - new carpet and tile and new paint and it was only 30 years old - that's new for Boston. Steal of deal there so we were excited to move in. 

Shortly after moving in Ray was off to travel the states to inspire dealers to sell his company's product. 

I don't remember how many days he had been gone but I do remember how loud the music was and that my lights were flickering and the chandelier over my table was shaking. The girls had been asleep but were now awake and crying because they were scared. 

There was a party next door. And not just any party apparently. They were literally going to bring the house down. It was midnight and I was trying to be patient. I thought maybe they had been watching a game and they were celebrating. Thirty minutes later I had enough. 

I marched my pregnant self next door and beat on the door for a good five minutes before this ginormous human opened it greeting me with the ever popular 'f' word. 

The house was dark and filled with people and smoke and the music was so loud I had to scream so he could hear me.

I told him that he needed to turn his music down because it was too loud. He screamed at me something I could not understand. I yelled back that he was going to turn the music down because my babies needed to sleep. He yelled at me again. And I yelled back "sweet, I will call the police and let them settle this then." He slammed the door and before I reached my front door the party was no more. 

The guys next door sat out front to smoke all the time. Cigarettes covered the sidewalk and we really didn't exchange glances as we passed each other in the parking lot. 

One day I was doing my dishes and I saw the ginormous one out front smoking. I stopped what I was doing and I went outside. I walked over to him and put my hand out and said 'Can we let bygones be bygones and start over?' We shook hands and I introduced myself. He apologized for being so rude and said he would blame it on being drunk but that wasn't an excuse to yell at a woman. 

His name is Sean and his roommate is Danny. They were both lifelong Bostonians and Sean actually is the son of an immigrant from Ireland. I would later learn that Sean's 21 year old son committed suicide the year before and he was just trying to keep his head above water. Danny was a marketing consultant. They both kept the beer and turkey leg industry in business because that is pretty much all they ate and drank. 

Sean and Danny eventually stopped throwing their cigarettes on the ground and they started watching their language around the kids. When Ray would go out of town they made sure to bring their extras over for the kids and me. They even joined us one Easter for dinner because Ray was out of town. 

I miss Sean and Danny. They weren't religious people - they were tattooed and very rough around the edges but they were loyal and kind and generous. 

In the culture of Mormonism there is this passionate unsaid rule that if someone is not going to church they must be converted and as fast as possible brought back to church. Not all Mormons feel this way. I don't. 

Sean and Danny knew we were Mormon but I didn't preach it. I wanted to let the conversations happen on their time - on the Lord's time. They did ask us questions about our religion and we did share our testimony, but converting them is not my job. They are not a conquest to be had. They are the Lord's children. My role is that of bearing testimony and being an example to them. The Lord's expectation of me is that I love them as he would so that when the day comes they will know him. 

We do not convert people. The Spirit of the Lord does. 

I know many people who have family members or close friends who for one reason or another no longer attend church. Desperate attempts are made to bring their loved ones "back" to church. They plead with the family member or friend to come back to so they can 'receive blessings'. They are told that not attending church cuts off the Lord from their life and that they need to feel of the Spirit at church. 

When the Savior was here on this earth he did not set stipulations on what a person needed to be doing to be healed. The ONLY requirement was faith in him. 

Sometimes he required that an individual physically come to where he was to be healed. Other times - more often than not - he went to them. He went LOOKING for them so that he could heal them. He didn't tell them that they had to go to church to be healed. He healed them right where they were. 

We claim to be Christians, to follow Christ. Then let's do that. Let's follow his example of loving one another. 

Stop setting or using mortal measurements for spirituality. We do not determine someone's spiritual eligibility based on their church attendance. Blessings are not necessarily withheld when someone stops attending church. What about the person with cancer, bedridden and unable to attend? What about the individual who is unable to attend because they do not have the means to get to the building itself? What about every other person, who for reasons that are not about being offended or not liking church, that cannot make it? 

Church attendance is not the equivalent to righteousness or evidence of spiritual strength. Sean and Danny had not stepped foot in a church since they were boys but they loved me and the kids and served us in their own way. In many ways they were more loving and kind to us than many active church members over the years. 

Your friends and family members will be okay because they have a Savior who knows them, personally, and he loves them. He does not need you to get them and to try and fit them your box, which is defined by mortal expectations. He needs you to love them right where they are. You do not have to sacrifice the efforts you make to be close to the Lord, but he does need you to seek to see them through his eyes. He needs you to pray to know how to love them the way he would. Pray to know what their spiritual and even temporal needs are. Pray to love them just as they are.

Church attendance does not guarantee a relationship with the Lord. People can look righteous and yet be evil. All of my abusers were active in the church. The uncle who sexually abused me had just returned from his two year mission. My maternal grandmother served in the temple and stilled smoked and was a wretched woman. She was not kind to her children or her grandchildren. 

People can look good on the outside and be hollow on the inside. 

We do not decide a person's worthiness or righteous based on what we see. There are some absolutely incredible people who change lives for the better every day that do not go to church. 

The Pharisee's and the Sadducees completely missed who our Savior was because they were so worried about the religious 'rules' he did not follow. They measured spirituality and righteous on outward obvious actions. Do not make this mistake with those around you. 

Each of us has the light of Christ within us. We can discern who is good and who is evil. Listen to that. Listen to what the spirit tells you. Do not miss an opportunity to love as Jesus would, to be His hands in someone's life because you limit yourself with your mortal mind. 

One day while loving someone in their difficult moment as they heal you will feel inspired to invite them back to church. Some people will come back, some people may never come back to church, but I believe more would if we took the time to love them and help them heal the way the Lord would.