Exponent II's Blog, page 172

Guest Post — My Hands: A Triad of Poems

By Dianna

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Human Hands

My hands

Are the way they are

For a lot of reasons.

Short-fingered

Because my dad’s genes.

Veins that pop out

Like my mom’s veins.

Nails I’ve finally learned

To not bite

Most of the time.

A cut or two here

From helping my

Mother-in-law

With her lovely

Roses.

A smudge on the left hand

That I write with.

Dirt under the nails

Gained gardening.

Dulled fingertips

From tasty nights

Flipping tortillas

On the hot griddle.

Cracked with eczema

Like my Grandmother’s

And her mother’s

And probably all the

Mothers in my tree.

Thank you, genes.

Calloused and tough

Because I took up gymnastics

Just last year.

I’ve grown so much

And love my new hobby

And my hands reflect that

Which I love.

Strong with the knowledge

Of kneading dough,

Scrubbing plates,

Turning wrenches,

Wiring fuses,

Building a home,

Comforting a friend.

My hands tell many stories

About who I am,

Where I came from,

What I do,

What I love.

I don’t see what makes them

Woman hands

As opposed to

Human hands.

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Woman Hands

How is it that my hands

Which have no breasts

Can only be used to

Nurture and feed?

How is it that my hands

Which have no womb

Can only be used to

Give of myself?

How is it that these hands:

The same shape,

The same strength;

Yet are not equal enough

To work side by side,

As hands are made to do?

If hands have sexes

Like woman and man

Why is it not clear

As our hands lined up,

Interlocked,

Perfect images of each other,

That women and men must

Be equal?

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Worthy Hands

If Mary’s hands were worthy

To prepare the body

Of Christ for burial,

My hands must also be worthy

To prepare the emblems

Of Christ for renewal.

If Hannah’s hands were worthy

To pull down a blessing from God

And have a promised child,

My hands must also be worthy

To place a blessing from God

And promise to my child.

If Mother Eve’s hands were worthy

To work and toil and teach

Alongside her helpmeet,

My hands must also be worthy

To carry and build and shelter

With my helpmeet

Equally yoked,

Equally joined,

Holding hands.

Dianna is a Utahn who likes to read, travel, and explore food from all over the world. She was raised in LDS Mormonism and cherishes its ideals of community, friendship, and human potential.

Three Books and a Quilt, #CopingWithCOVID19

[image error] My COVID captivity looks like this: work from home M-F, empty nest, husband retired, quiet house in suburbia, USA. I have time on my hands.  I vacillate between apathy and productivity.  During the past two months I’ve read a few books dealing with theology and loving, self-kindness.  (My faith journey has not been stifled by the pandemic.) In this post I share three mini book reviews and a quilt project that has soothed my soul as I remember my mother and grandmother. My intention is to share some of what I have been doing, in hopes that it might help you in your circumstances.

[image error]First book:Jesus’ Plan for A New World, The Sermon on the Mount, by Richard Rohr, published in 1996. In this quick read, Rohr lays a contextual foundation for the times and circumstances Jesus lived through.   One chapter called Table Fellowship in the New Testament was enlightening;  “…sharing food is a complex interaction that symbolizes group relationship and defines group boundaries almost more than any daily event.”  Rohr explains that so many of Jesus’ teachings took place over a meal where Jesus welcomed everyone. There was no worthiness interview in order to partake. That got me thinking about our sacrament rules of who can and cannot partake.

“He [Jesus] refuses to interpret the Mosaic law in terms of Leviticus’s Law of Holiness, in terms of inclusion/exclusion, the symbolic self-identification of Judaism as the righteous, pure, elite group. Jesus continually interprets the Law of Holiness in terms of the God whom he has met—and that God is always compassion and mercy.”

Rohr’s theology is expansive and inclusive.  He takes on modern religion, including his own Catholicism, with thoughtful open eyes, seeing the good and the bad.  His catch phrase is “both, and” rather than “either, or.”  I recommend this book if you are looking for contextual understanding of Jesus’ times and how Jesus was a threat to the status quo of his day.

[image error]Second book: Proverbs of Ashes:  Violence, Redemptive Suffering, and The Search for What Saves Us, by Rita Nakashima Brock and Rebecca Ann Parker.  This book is new to me, although published in 2001.  The authors come from divergent backgrounds and separately reach the same conclusions about violence and suffering as viewed through the Christian lens.  Both women developed a feminist theology, rejecting the valorization of suffering based on their varied personal and professional experiences.

This book deals with intense subject matter including childhood abuse, abortion, racial bigotry, abandonment, adoption, loss, divorce, homophobia, LQBT-identity, bi-racial identity, PTSD, war, sex, suicide, therapy and more.

The book’s chapters are written in three sections, corresponding to Lent, Pentecost and Epiphany. In the Lent chapter, Parker shares excerpts from sermons she delivered (as a Methodist minister) during the 6 Sundays of Lent. In each homily she tackles the atonement, explaining Substitutionary Theory, Liberation Theology, The Moral Influence Theory, and The Crucified God Theory. In each case she explains how these theologies valorize suffering at the expense of the victims. I literally took notes as I read these sermons. This is deeper theological water than I am accustomed to swimming in.  Both authors share their own stories of recovery from violence, offering insight to help others on the journey. They reach an alternative theology about what really saved them and offer that to us, as readers.

I recommend this book if you are interested in feminist theology or alternative atonement theories.  This book might be triggering for you If you have a history of trauma, violence and/or abuse in your life.

[image error]Third book: The Mindful Self-Compassion Workbook, by Kristen Neff, PhD and Christopher Germer, PhD, published in 2018.  This workbook is the text for an online group I’m participating in: Spiritual Practices for Pandemic.  The facilitator uses the book at a guide, while we each complete the exercises independent of the class.

The chapters are organized with reading content followed by exercises (questions to ponder and journal about), informal practices that can be done with a group or as an individual, and guided meditations. The book provides access to on-line audio files which can be streamed or downloaded.  In these files the authors talk you through the practices and meditations, making it easily accessible in either written or audio format.

During stress we often revert to our most primitive style of coping.  Understanding and regularly practicing self-compassion will allow higher-level coping skills to be more present to you on a routine basis.  I view it as ‘more tools in my tool-belt’.

For example, take the stress responses of fight, flight and freeze. Stress, responded to with self-compassion results in self-kindness, rather than self-criticism (fight), common humanity rather than isolation (flight), mindfulness rather than rumination (freeze).  The concepts are explained in plain language that make sense. There are multiple practices throughout the book that allow you to access varied options to be kind to yourself.  I’ve taken notes on my phone and review the strategies once a day to help me be aware of positive ways to respond to stress.

I like this workbook very much.   The first gem was an explanation of the difference between self-compassion and self-esteem.  The exercises ask for thoughtful reflection, which helps get to the heart of how you respond in stressful situations.  It is a choice to be self-critical or self-kind.   I like the option of guided meditations and it’s nice to hear the content in the authors’ voices.  I recommend this workbook to anyone who is feeling stressed right now.  The tools can be easily learned and then shared with your family members and friends, as needed.  I’ve already gifted a copy to someone special.

[image error]Lastly, I wanted to share a patchwork quilt I’m working on.  I come from a heritage of quilters.  My mother was prolific with beautiful, patterned quilts.  My grandmother made patchwork quilts from fragments of fabric.  When dresses wore out, they became aprons.  Pants became shorts, gowns became priestly vestments.  When there was nothing wearable to make from the fabric, they became patchwork quilts.

I have a collection of fabric also, fragments of left-over projects. I’m making a patch work quilt like my grandmother’s.  The colors don’t match.  The corners don’t align.  The squares aren’t always square or the same size.  The top, now completed, is big enough for a queen-sized bed.  I am sleeping beneath this unfinished project because it feels and looks so good (to me) with all the strange materials and mismatched squares.  It is so imperfectly perfect.  I see material from clothing I’ve made, pajamas I’ve loved, quilts I precisely pieced in the past. This time there is no precision.  I did what I wanted.  No rules. No one saying what I could or couldn’t do.  I just needed to do my own thing without rules.  It is a statement, rebelling against the current rules that confine me.

Perhaps I also wanted to connect to my mother and grandmother who were so influential in my life.  I’m quilting (sewing the top to the bottom) slowly, by hand, while it lays on my bed.  I sit at the bedside tending to the quilt like a loved one lying beside me. It’s comforting.  It feels like home.  I feel immense peace, running the thread through layers, binding disjointed pieces together in a one great whole.

Happy Mother’s Day to those of you who celebrate this holiday.

May we be safe.

May we be happy.

May we be healthy.

May we live with ease.

May we be free to be who we are.  May we color outside the lines. May we sew outside the patterns.

May we wander outside the captivity, soon.

 

Musings on Mother’s Day: Fertility Privilege in Mormon Systems of Power

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I’ve written before about how Motherhood may be hazardous to a woman’s health.  In this post I’ll discuss how fertility privilege functions in Mormon systems of power to disadvantage childless women and what we can do to change it. Fertility privilege is tangential (but related!) to marriage privilege in Mormon contexts, as childlessness in Mormonism happens to married and single women alike.

Home-church 2020 marks the first time in my lifetime that LDS women have not endured a Mormon Mother’s Day celebration at church.  Some mourn this as a loss; others are relieved. Mother’s Day is not marked on the liturgical calendar as a sacred day, but it has come to be observed by tradition in Latter-Day-Saint congregations as the dedicated occasion where members speak about their mothers, the mothers of their children, and motherhood in general. Primary children sing, and the youth or Bishopric bestow gifts of chocolate or flowers to all the women in the congregation, regardless of motherhood status. Rarely do we hear discourses about Heavenly Mother, but rather remarks that put earthly mothers on heavenly pedestals.

For some mothers, this might be the only day of the year they feel noticed and thanked for their work in the family and with their children, or they may experience pain at feeling mistreated or unappreciated on a day that was intended to honor them.  For others it may be a sad reminder of their own strained relationships with parents or children, or in feeling unsupported the rest of the year in their parenting efforts.

For childless women, it serves as a stark reminder of the presumed church doctrine: that Motherhood is revered and venerated as a woman’s highest and holiest work.  All female members, single or married, with children or without, are taught that motherhood is a defining essence of who they are as women. Though not a key point of the gospel as taught by Jesus Christ in his day, modern church leaders have spoken at length about the doctrinal role of women as mothers in this life and beyond.

“ Since the beginning, a woman’s first and most important role has been ushering into mortality spirit sons and daughters of our Father in Heaven.” ETB The Honored Place of Women

“Motherhood is more than bearing children, though it is certainly that. It is the essence of who we are as women. It defines our very identity, our divine stature and nature, and the unique traits our Father gave us.” Sheri Dew, “Are We Not All Mothers”

These categorizations of women and the descriptions of their roles in life were not teachings reinforced by Jesus Christ during his day. To the women in his life, he encouraged them to repent, to choose the good part by learning his words, to share the good news of his resurrection. He did not focus on their fertility or child-raising when determining their role or place in his gospel. We should follow more closely the example of Jesus Christ when encouraging women about their contributions to the Kingdom of God.

The modern church teachings on divine gender roles puts childless women in a disadvantaged position where few other life accomplishments measure up to the worth of child-raising in the perspective of church leaders or members.  Absent children of their own, childless women are called on to act as mothers and nurture those around them. Childless women are told, in effect, “your life’s main worthy purpose is to be a mother. If you’re not a mother, you should WANT to be a mother and should try to nurture the people around you with your innate mothering essence.”

Some women are childless by choice, others by circumstance. The circumstances surrounding childlessness may be deep points of grief for single women, infertile women, those who have experienced pregnancy loss, those who may have had failed adoptions, and more. Creating a power hierarchy where privileged status and divine favor revolve around a woman’s motherhood status is unhealthy and inequitable to all women, but especially to childless women. It creates a culture of false scarcity and competition by separating mothers from childless women and heaps praise and privilege on one but not the other.

By pedestalizing the motherhood role with such specific descriptions and divine design, church leaders have simultaneously created the vacuum where childless women experience loss and disfavor.  They are told, “all women are mothers!” as some sort of encouraging consolation, but which actually gaslights their lived experience and functions to diminish the influence they have in other spheres. If a woman does not have children, why insist to her that she is also a mother?  This logic depends on all women being lumped together according to their fertility and reproductive prowess first, and not as individuals.

Many women who wish to have children are unable to have them. Many women who have children don’t always wish for them. Attributing a woman’s worth to humanity and the credit of her life’s work to her motherhood status lessens the scope of the impact of her other good works. Whether a woman desires children or not, the worthiness of her life’s work should not be in question. Her highest, holiest work is whatever work she is called to do, which may include motherhood and a myriad of other pursuits or relationships. This is the same for every woman.

We see how the elevation of motherhood as a primary status of divine role and essential nature, and the secondary status of childless women is another unhealthy way benevolent patriarchy functions in LDS doctrine and culture.

In 1760, Jean-Jacques Rousseau said this: “The woman’s entire education should be planned in relation to men, to please men, to be useful to them, to win their love and respect, to raise them as children, to care for them as adults. These are women’s duties in all ages, and these are what they should be taught from childhood.”

 In a similar vein, when church leaders praise mothers for their child raising, and encourage non-mothers to also participate in nurturing children, they telegraph the message to women that their lives and roles are not their own to live, or theirs to live in unique ways in the Kingdom of God, but to be lived in service and nurture of the children around them. Specifically in raising the male children to be actors and individuals in life and female children to be future-nurturers of more male children.

Even when encumbered by the many personal challenges with motherhood, Latter-Day Saint women with children need to be aware of these power dynamics and the ways their childless sisters are relegated to lower status in church hierarchies.  We can speak out against language that unnecessarily privileges mothers over childless women. We can be more aware of how we speak about our own motherhood in the context of relational privilege in Mormon systems. We can encourage honoring all women on International Women’s day (March 8) instead of co-mingling womanhood with motherhood on Mother’s Day. We can avoid wishing childless women a “Happy Mother’s Day!”

We can provide ongoing, year-round support to mothers (like paid maternity leave, education, affordable health care, child care, family unifications for refugees, building partnership marriages, reducing domestic violence perpetrated against women, reducing the gender wage gap to name a few) and not just one day of lip service every May.

We can recognize the contributions of women in any sphere, motherhood included, without striating which pursuits are more worthy than another.

To my sisters who celebrate Mother’s Day as a day of joy, I rejoice with you. To my sisters who grieve complex feelings on Mother’s Day, I mourn with you. To my sisters who become more keenly aware of inequitable systems at work that disadvantage women on Mother’s Day, I offer my heart, hands, words and work.

 

What ways do you see fertility privilege at work in LDS systems? What suggestions do you have for changing toward a more inclusive rhetoric about womanhood and motherhood? 

Guest Post: A Poem for Mother’s Day

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by Laura Riddle Parry

I watch my mom cradle my newborn baby.

She is so gentle, exquisitely gentle,

as she lowers the babe from her shoulder

to gaze into her eyes.

She coos and rocks, rocks and coos.

In a way that I’ve felt, but never seen, until now

I know my mom was gentle, exquisitely gentle,

with me, when I was her baby.

That she gazed into my eyes,

and cooed and rocked, rocked and cooed.

I cradle my own baby

with the gentleness she gave me

before my memories begin.

Like all impressions left on the soul, not the mind,

I sense the same whisperings about my first mother,

my Heavenly Mother.

Who spiritually held me,

and cooed and rocked, rocked and cooed.

She would have gazed into my eyes;

known me as Her daughter,

and held me while I grew.

Though I don’t remember,

traces of Her are a part of me.

A spiritual coo. A spiritual rock.

I cradle my own baby,

and the gentleness She gave me,

is passed on.

Laura is a licensed clinical social worker specializing in postpartum depression and couples counseling. She lives in Utah with her husband, three children, two cats, and one dog. 

Singing Redeeming Love

I wrote this poem a few years ago at a very tumultuous point in my relationship with the church. With Mother’s Day coming up I have reflected again on how meaningful building a relationship with my Heavenly Mother has been to me.

And now behold, I say unto you, my brethren, if ye have experienced a change of heart, and if ye have felt to sing the song of redeeming love, I would ask, can ye feel so now? Alma 5:26

Are you mad at me?

I used to hear you all the time.

At church

Reading my scriptures

During my prayers.

Remember that one time

I sat in the car with Kerri?

She was in a really rough place.

But you were there.

You let me know how much you loved her,

And how much you loved me.

And now…

And now?

Maybe you won’t talk to me

Because you sense my disdain.

Maybe I can’t feel your love

Through all the anger swirling around.

It’s not anger for you.

Really, it isn’t.

I know all the proscriptions

Of how I should pray

Of how I should worship

Of how I’m allowed to feel

And access your redeeming love

Aren’t from you.

And yet I can’t help

But be mad

When I hear them say,

“God says this” or

“God says that”

I get mad even if they just say your name.

Why do they have to cut mom out of everything?

Can I talk to mom now?

Hi mom.

I’m sorry I’ve been silent for so long.

They told me I couldn’t talk to you.

They told me I couldn’t talk about you.

I guess that’s why I didn’t recognize

Your redeeming love at first.

Your majesty.

Your power.

Your glory.

Oh how you sustain me.

In that void where dad once was-

In all the “right” places.

Now I can sing of your love.

Now I can see you’ve always been there.

Was it you whispering to me

On the breeze through the leaves?

A wise friend told me to look for you

Hidden in the symbol of trees.

Remember that tree on the corner

Of Chapman and Hawthorne?

It was such a busy street

But I loved that tree.

It had the perfect crook to climb into.

It was my refuge.

It must have been you.

Now I see you everywhere.

Thanks for waiting for me.

Thanks for not being mad.

I know dad’s not mad either.

Can you tell him I say hi?

One day I’ll sing of his love too.

Right now I don’t feel it.

And I guess that’s ok.

I’ll turn to you for peace.

Thanks mom.

Thanks mom.

Women Claiming Power in Dialogue

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The Dialogue issue guest-edited by Exponent II came out recently. I feel so proud of the dozens of women who organized, wrote, and edited this beautiful collection. Like the “pink issue” of 1971— the first time Exponent women guest-edited Dialogue— I believe that this issue will stand as an historical marker of Mormon feminism. As the editor of this issue, I wanted to share what stood out to me about each article. I also want to recognize and give huge thanks to Nancy Ross, who edited the academic essays; Dayna Patterson, poetry editor; Mette Harrison, fiction editor; and Hannah Pritchett and Tania Lyon, book review editors.

ACADEMIC ESSAYS

Multiculturalism as Resistance: Latina Migrants Navigate U.S. Mormon Spaces 

By Brittany Romanello

This is social science academic writing done in the best way: with ethnographic details woven through, bringing the overall thesis to life. Through extensive interviews, Romanello tells the stories of Latina women inhabiting the mostly white American Mormon spaces and how deeply they rely on their Latinx communities to navigate that world. Through amplifying the voices of Latina Mormons, Romanello has created a must-read piece for anyone interested in how the Church can assist those who “face intersecting societal disadvantages.”

The Other Sin: Abortion and Contraception in Nineteenth- and Twentieth- Century Utah

By Amanda Hendrix-Komoto

If you ever believed that LDS women have had a consistent or unified stance on abortion, this essay will blow your mind. Hendrix-Komoto looks at the general understanding of what a fetus was in the 19th century and examines advertisements from Mormon men who sold abortion pills at the time. The way we understand pregnancy—what pregnancy is, when it starts, and what it means—has fundamentally changed over the decades. In order to have productive, vigorous conversations on the topic now, we need to understand those changes.

Women’s Lived Experience as Authority: Antenarratives and Interactional Power as Tools for Engagement

By Emily January Petersen

Emily January Petersen uses the idea of antenarratives, or “fragments of experience” that push up against dominant narratives. People whose lived experiences contradict that dominant narrative may find intense social or institutional power pressuring them to remain silent. However, the employment of antenarratives is a powerful way for individuals to challenge the norms that marginalize them.

PERSONAL ESSAYS

The Blessing I Took

By Lindsay Denton

Denton tells the story of first asking for permission, and then insisting on her own personal authority to hold her infant son while he is blessed. This has been a recurring topic within Mormon feminism for many years, but Denton’s poignant writing makes the issue particularly powerful. Readers follow her personal journey of claiming authority and are also left to ponder the question she asks: Do we believe that a mother’s touch will invalidate a blessing of God?

The Power of an Unbroken Woman

By Joy Sitawa Richards

This essay tells the heartbreaking and hopeful story of Richards’ path from a young woman, to a wife and mother suffering from severe domestic violence, to immigrant, survivor, and college graduate. Richards candidly shares how her personal power is rooted in faith and family and how those things carried her through “the great storms of [her] life.” 

The Stories We Tell—And What They Tell Us

By Heather Sundahl

Sundahl has long been famous in the Exponent II organization for her storytelling. In this piece, she explains how the way we choose to tell our own stories has direct implications for our health and happiness. There are many ways to tell the same story and what details we choose to focus on will change our lives. 

The Order of Eve; A Matriarchal Priesthood

By Kyra Neipp Krakos

When biology and Mormon feminism mix, the result is an essay that explains how mitochondrial DNA give women the right to perform blessings. Krakos’ piece is both funny and moving as she describes the science and theology that led her to give her mother a blessing of comfort.

For the Power is In Them: Leonard Arrington and the Founders of Exponent II

By Laurel Thatcher Ulrich

Leonard Arrington played a vital role in the rebirth of Mormon feminism in the 1970s. In this essay, Ulrich gives a history of his support for the early Exponent II founding mothers and also lays out how his private diary documented the work of women during that time. 

Women in Dialogue

By Claudia Bushman

Bushman edited the “pink issue” of Dialogue in 1971 and has long been personally involved in both organizations, making her well-positioned to write about the relationship between them. This essay documents the making of that issue and looks at the potential future of Mormon feminism moving forward.

INTERVIEWS AND CONVERSATIONS

Mormon Women in the Ministry

Edited by Emily Clyde Curtis

This roundtable interview is one of the most extraordinary pieces I have ever read in Mormon feminism. Clyde Curtis brought together Mormon women who have been ordained and discussed what called them to the ministry and what it looks like in their lives. Included are women who have left the LDS Church in order to become pastors, one woman who is simultaneously active and engaged in her local LDS congregation while also working as an Episcopal chaplain at the National Cathedral School, and a woman who left her career as an Anglican pastor in order to be baptized into the LDS Church. 

Women in Workplace Power

Edited by Barbara Christiansen

As working outside the home has normalized for Mormon women in recent decades, we find ourselves with the first generation of Mormon women who are acting in roles of institutional power in their careers. This group of women discuss mentorship, engaging comfortably in positions of power, and how leadership roles in their careers have affected their religious lives.

POETRY

The collection of poetry in this issue forms a satisfying arc of Mormon feminist theology. Editor Dayna Patterson brilliantly brought together individual pieces that shine on their own and also contribute to a broader whole. Rather than attempting to describe each one separately, I’ll just strongly encourage you to read through them all and in the order printed.

FICTION

The Garden of Babel

By Luna Flesher

It’s hard to summarize a piece set in the multiverse, in a land governed by a woman and including a conversation with Heavenly Mother that explores agency, adversity, and the Problem of Evil. Flesher’s brilliant writing made this piece one of my favorites. Read it.

The Nape of the Neck

By Keira Shae Sholz

What does it mean for women to claim authority over their own bodies? This story subtly explores the restrictions placed on women’s bodies and invites women to consider defying them. The story also looks at the role of the human body in art and how we need to rethink shame.

BOOK REVIEWS

Editors Hannah Pritchett and Tania Lyon wanted to do this section a little differently and chose to broadly explore the theme of women claiming power through reviews of fiction and non-fiction books. As they write, “Our book reviews explore the theme of women negotiating imbalances of power as well as claiming power in their lives and in their narratives. The reviews deliberately venture into genres that are popular with readers but less represented with reviewers, take a broader view of a field, or re-examine older publications with a new lens. The results are often unexpected, both in the effects they aim for and how they choose to achieve them. While some women use power to control, others use it to forgive, to fall in love, to follow freedom, or to find faith.”

ART NOTE

Symbols on Canvas

By Lita Little Giddins

The art that graces the cover of this issue of Dialogue is jaw-droppingly good. Michelle Franzoni Thorley is one of the rising stars of Mormon art. In this piece, Giddins examines Thorley’s artwork “Family History and Temple Work” through the lens of being a fellow female Mormon artist of color. She describes the immediate connection she had with Thorley when they met last year and how the symbolism that Thorley uses in her art convey particular meaning for her. Having been lucky enough to have spent some time in a room with Giddins and Thorley together, I strongly recommend getting a peek at the brilliance that emerges from these two women.

FROM THE PULPIT

The Gebirah and Female Power

By Amber Richardson

There are a few pieces I’ve read over my years as an editor that make me cry every time I read them, even after dozens of read-throughs. This is one of them. Richardson boldly reviews the story of Bathsheba and what happened to her after her infamous first encounter with David. Richardson doesn’t limit herself to defending and exonerating Bathsheba, she also uses the Song of Solomon to acknowledge Bathsheba’s spiritual power. While this piece will particularly resonate with anyone who has experienced sexual violence, it is also a must-read for all Mormons who care about how we talk about women in scripture.

Again, I want to express my gratitude for the many women who worked so hard on this issue. I’m extraordinarily proud of it. Go read the whole thing (for free!) at www.dialoguejournal.com.

Becoming the Least of These. #CopingWithCOVID19

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It was a few months ago…or maybe a few years ago…when the dismantling of life as I knew it seemed to accelerate.

Now, every day, almost every moment, the security of living in a world that, however slowly, bends toward justice, erodes away.

The number of actions and words which I once could not imagine happening, accelerates at a rate similar to the numbers of diagnosed virus cases, and deaths.

Many of us fear losing the things we have attached to our life. There is a terror of losing normalcy. Some are so desperate to return to their past life, they are willing to risk the safety of their loved ones, and themselves, as they dress in combat costumes and wave their guns to demand that the world realign with their paradigm of security and privilege.

Death seems, to some, less threatening than change.

For me, all change involves a type of death. All transformation, shifting, awareness, inspiration, epiphany – it all involves an end, a letting go of a past life, a past way of thinking or believing.

I have been thinking of Garden stories.

I often speak of the story of Adam and Eve in the Garden, and how it is the story of each of us. We are each Adam and Eve. We are each constantly confronted with the choice to either cling to what we already know, to what is predictable, to what we are told – or to step into wisdom, complexity, the place of choosing to be and creating our own path.

Now I think more often of another Garden story.

It is also about each of us.

Did Christ know the Garden is where his words and actions would lead?

In asking people he loved to follow him, did he, did they see it would lead to death?

He had spoken of bringing a new way, of completing and doing away with the old.

His actions were radical in showing how completely the law of love could transform us.

His last parable spoke of there being no divisions, no “other”. God is the least of these. The least of these is God.

Was he already becoming that, even before the pleading, the sweating great drops like blood?

Is the Garden where he descended below all? Is that where he experienced the death of deep self, letting go of any barrier? Is it there where he was most vulnerable, where he would not resist any part of us?

How could he feel what we feel, be one with us?

God, how is it done?

In my moments of deepest despair, fear, loss, grief, confusion – I hear them… “I am here. I am with you. I am sorry for the pain. No matter where you are, I am with you. I am you.”

There is no barrier. No condition to this most vulnerable act of love.

And I am in the garden, where God removes all barriers. There is no resistance to being one.

Was this death of self the bitter cup? More bitter than the physical death on the cross?

I don’t know how it is done.

And somehow, death brought us a new God.

A God who connects us, and brings us into new life. Not through force, or fear, or guilt, but through the complete one-ness of unconditional love.

I consider those moments after the tomb had been closed, and there was loss beyond description. How did Christ rebuild himself? Did he learn how to breathe deeper, and step into a new life in the same way we did from our Heavenly Parents? We became new beings when they inspired us to live more completely, and to create new worlds, and ourselves in new ways. Once again, was he showing us what was possible, because he loves us so?

I do not sense there was any desire or need to return to his past, to what he had been. He created himself again, appeared because he loved us, and showed us what that love made possible.

Over and over again.

How many times have I faced the end of all things?

I am navigating this time of isolation from a place of privilege.

I am in my comfortable home, with my profoundly good and kind husband. We can, for now, find ways to provide for our needs and help our adult children endure loss of employment and income. We have access to reliable information and education, as well as resources for safety and healthcare.

Our age and health history put us at risk. Every exposure to anyone is a concern. My work in suicide prevention has been interrupted at a time when the need is greater than ever. New training and creative use of technology make it possible to continue. Since I volunteer my time and resources for this, I have no loss of income. It is my concern for those who are in despair that weighs on me. My helplessness to make a difference while confined consumes me. My worry for loved ones is constant.

And I am mourning. I mourn the loss of physical connection. I want to sit next to my mom, and visit, and help her make art, and talk with her without a mask muffling our voices.

I want to meet with friends, celebrate good days, or weep together through heartache. I want to visit those who are sick, hold their hands, and feed them homemade soup.

I want to hug my kids.

I want to take off the masks, and the gloves, and feel the wetness of tears when someone is crying on my shoulder, or the gentle touch when someone wipes away mine.

During this time when we need to have more physical distance and barriers between us, I think of my God who has none. No distance, no barriers, no resistance.

As I create a new life, what will I learn from the vulnerable, unconditional love that Christ revealed in the Garden, and every moment since then?

Even with masks, and isolation, and different views…

Love is only love when it is unconditional.

Remove the barriers.

There is no “other”.

We are all the least of these.

We are one.

Now is the time to create a world where I live this.

The Gospel of Harry Potter

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Home church is a new prospect for many of us. Maybe your whole family sits reverently while you read from “Come Follow Me.” Maybe you are a congregation of one and are trying different ways to engage in the gospel. Maybe your family is like mine and the variety of ages, interests, and degrees of commitment to Mormonism make it hard to agree on any kind of service. One of the few things we can all agree on is that sourdough is the best bread, and the Harry Potter series is amazing (but whether or not Cursed Child is cannon is another story altogether). If you are looking for some Hogwarts theology to spice up your Sunday home service, I offer up a few suggestions. Brigitte Madrian gave a fabulous BYU devotional all about the Boy Who Lived.  “Harry Potter and the Sacred Text” is a lovely podcast by two Harvard Divinity School grads. And finally, below is a talk I gave in sacrament meeting a decade ago.

Four Gospel Lessons I Learned from Harry Potter

Growing up in a household of hardcore readers, I often heard the following: “Seek ye out of the best books words of wisdom; seek learning, even by study and also by faith” (Doctrine and Covenants, 88: 118). My parents took this to heart and, in addition to studying scriptures, they also strengthened their minds and faith by reading vast quantities of books and encouraged us to do likewise. It has been a blessing for me to pass this truth on my family. As a mom of four kids ages 12 and under, the books I have spent the most time with in the past decade have been the Harry Potter series by J.K. Rowling. I have been amazed by the spiritual discussions these books have inspired. My daughter Georgia (now ten and on her second round with the series) and I agree that there are four gospel lessons that stand out for us. (I will avoid any spoilers!)

1 .Charity Never Faileth–Especially a Mom’s

For those unfamiliar with the Harry Potter novels by J.K. Rowling, they tell the story of a young wizard and his adventures battling evil and championing good. His nemesis is Voldemort, the Supreme Evil Being who seeks to kill baby Harry. Harry’s mother, Lily, dies trying to shield her young son, and this act of sacrifice creates a protective charm on the boy that Voldemort cannot penetrate.

Albus Dumbledore, who serves as a mentor and friend to Harry, explains it this way: “Love as powerful as your mother’s for you, leaves its own mark. . . . To have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give us some protection forever. (Book 1, pg. 216)”

We are buoyed up by the prayers and love of those around us, especially our mother’s. Speaking of the Harry Potter novels, Jeffrey Holland echoes this: “But fundamental to the message of the books is the idea that children don’t — indeed, can’t — fight their battles alone. In fact, the one gift that saves Harry over and over again is the love of his mother, who died protecting him from evil.” (“Let There be Light,” May 2006)

In Harry Potter, as in the Gospel, we are not only blessed and protected by the love of those around us, but also by our ability to love others, according to the second great commandment. Dumbledore is repeatedly reminding Harry of this: “You are protected, in short, by your ability to love! . . . The only protection that can possibly work against the lure of power like Voldemort’s!” (Book 6, pg. 511). “That which Voldemort does not value, he takes no trouble to comprehend. Of house-elves and children’s tales, of love, loyalty, and innocence, Voldemort knows and understands nothing. Nothing. That they all have a power beyond his own, a power beyond the reach of any magic, is a truth he has never grasped.” (Book 7, pg. 709)

The apostle Paul knew that all abilities pale in comparison to the gift of reflecting Christ’s love: “Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal. And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not charity, I am nothing. . .Charity never faileth.” (1 Cor. 13)

To love, and be loved, is a powerful gift.

2. Agency Rocks

Another important theme that Rowling explores is the importance of choice. As Mormons, the two stories we tell about our beginnings center on our agency. The War in Heaven was a battle over two plans. Satan’s version guaranteed our compliance with the Gospel. This plan would have taken away our ability to choose wrong. But if one can’t make a bad choice, then one can’t truly choose the right either. In contrast, the Savior’s plan allows us to learn and grow and hopefully make the decisions that will bring us back to our Father.

Likewise, our creation story also centers on the blessings of choice, even when they bring us pain. I love Eve’s testimony of agency in Moses 5: 11: “And Eve, heard all these things and was glad, saying: Were it not for our transgression we never should have had seed, and never should have known good and evil, and the joy of our redemption, and the eternal life which God giveth unto all the obedient.”

In the Harry Potter novels, Rowling explores the idea that our choices greatly define us. When Harry is discouraged by the limitations of his magical knowledge, Dumbledore wisely assures him, “It is our choices, Harry, that show what we truly are, far more than our abilities.” (Book 2, page 333)

Even with Dumbledore’s advice about agency, Harry is haunted by a prophecy that declares Harry to be the Chosen One and pits his life against Voldemort’s. He is often resentful of what he feels is his foreordained lot. But over time, he comes to understand that he always has a choice. He may not be able to choose his circumstances, but he can always choose how he reacts to them. By the end of the sixth book in the series, he knows what he needs to do, not because it was prophesied, but because he chooses to act. He has agency, and it brings him courage as he envisions doing battle with the Dark Lord: “It was, he thought, the difference between being dragged into an arena to face a battle to the death and walking into the arena with your head held high. Some people perhaps would say there was little to choose between the two ways, but Dumbledore knew—and so do I thought Harry, with a rush of fierce pride, and so did my parents, that there was all the difference in the world.” (Book 6, pg. 512)

On this idea of agency, let me add the advice Dumbledore shares with Harry and the other students in Book 4. Difficult times lie ahead. Soon we must all make the choice between what is right and what is easy. Even with this good advice, we sometimes choose wrong, which leads me to my next point:

3. People Deserve Second Chances

Rowling’s novels, like real life, are peopled by imperfect souls in need of redemption. There’s Lupin, the gentlest man around, until the moon is full; the Potions teacher Snape, who is haunted by an act of disloyalty that caused the death of his truest friend; Hagrid, the game keeper who can’t quite keep a secret; and Slughorn, who is desperate to never share his. These are but a few of the troubled souls to whom Professor Dumbledore gives second (and third and fourth) chances. Even Draco Malfoy, Harry’s classmate nemesis, is offered compassion, and when his actions take him down a dark path, Dumbledore is willing to make great sacrifices to ensure that Draco does not make mistakes that will damage him permanently. In the final novel, we learn that Dumbledore himself, the great dispenser of fresh starts, is not without flaws and knows the value of forgiveness because he is also looking for grace. Like good people everywhere, he has learned to grant others what he most desires.

Another subheading for this section could be “I believe in the Atonement.” I love reading the New Testament. Just about every person that Jesus comes in contact with needs healing in one way or another. He heals the lepers, raises the dead, and forgives the sinners. He gives second chances to those that ask—and those that don’t. I love these stories, yet I must admit there are recipients of his forgiveness that I begrudge. The soldiers who seem to take pleasure in Christ’s suffering don’t deserve forgiveness. But they need it. The truth is we are all of us saints and sinners, wizards and werewolves, and in need of second chances.

4. Don’t Leave Anybody Behind

Anyone who has read the novels or seen the movies knows that though Harry is the title character, his friends Ron and Hermione are indispensable to the stories. When Harry is literally locked into his room by his uncle and aunt, Ron and his brothers arrive to break him out. When Hermione has hidden in a bathroom because the boys hurt her feelings, they defy teachers’ orders and battle a mountain troll to go after her. Friends stick together. It’s hard to imagine Harry accomplishing much without the aid of his friends.

In every book there are instances where characters risk their safety to go back for someone in need. What touches me most is that many times the person they go back for is a stranger, and, sometimes, even an enemy. I love in the fourth book when Harry is willing to risk losing the tournament to go back for Fleur Delacouer’s sister, whom he has never met. We learn in the third book that James Potter saves his enemy Snape from a werewolf. And when a dark wizard refuses to let his house elf die for the Dark Lord, I got a little teary. Rowling’s novels remind me that loyalty and sacrifice are important and that no one should be left behind. Nothing justifies turning one’s back on a fellow human being (or Kreacher, as the case may be).

This idea that we are responsible for each other pervades the novels. In speaking about the invisibility cloak that Harry inherited, Dumbledore reveals that its “true magic…of course, is that it can be used to protect and shield others as well as its owner.” (Book 7, pg. 716) I learned about the importance of taking responsibility for others while on a study abroad in Israel.

We were climbing Mt. Sinai in January in the middle of the night, trying to get to the top in time to watch the sunrise. The early risers and fast climbers were already at the top; the rest of us were scattered up and down the steep mountain. I didn’t start out caring if I made it in time for daybreak, but as I climbed I changed my mind and started to kick it into gear, determined to see the dawn. As is often the case, when the terrain got tough, I started to pray. The trail got steeper and when I looked behind me to see how far I’d come, I was surprised to see so many of my classmates behind me. It was early in the semester, so most of them were just faces to me at that point. We were all cold and tired and trying to get to the same place. My heart swelled and as I resumed my climbing, my prayer shift-ed from “Help me make it” to “Help us make it.”

That small shift in pronoun, from the singular to the plural, transformed my ascent. I felt revived and started to make some real progress as the sky went from black to pink. But my own desires didn’t mean as much to me now. I turned and started to pass on words of encouragement to the people below. We started a relay of advice: “Rocks loose on left, stay to the right.” or “Watch out for the ice on this spot!” And sometimes simply, “Keep going!” The sky brightened as we literally crawled our way to the top. I made it up with time to spare and several of us helped the last climbers make the as-cent. Twenty years later, I can’t recall the sunrise from Mt Sinai. I’m sure it was beautiful, but not as beautiful as the faces of my new friends. We are all dependent on one another.

Sometimes I feel a little bit guilty that my family does not take as much pleasure in reading the Book of Mormon as it does in reading Harry Potter. Over the years during scripture study, nobody has ever said, “Come on Mom—just one more chapter, please!” But as the Thirteenth Article of Faith proclaims, we are to seek out the things in life that are virtuous, lovely, and praiseworthy. And I know that in our discussions on charity and repentance and agency and inclusion, we have learned more about being Christ-like, bonded as a family, and strengthened our testimonies. It’s been like magic. Only better.

Let us all press on- Lessons I have learned on the journey to becoming me.

I can still smell the stale fabric samples and see the stained yellow curtains in my home -economic class. I can still hear the teacher’s drill sergeant tone  as she held up a copy of a “ladies” magazine and instructed us on how to keep our home and husbands happy. I began to memorize how to lift stains from carpets, to cook a perfect roast and  to perfect a  hem.

I recall sitting in various houses of worship and being told that my calling in life was to be a servant to men.  My heart still beats extra fast when I think of the lessons I was taught and even more the shame that I carried throughout my life. From an early age,I was groomed by society, my education system and religion to believe that my purpose was to become a base in someone else’s foundation.

Twenty-Seven years later , I am finally starting to realize that I am so much more than that.  I have learned that I am a complex human being that has dreams that are worthy and sacred. In the last year, I have learned that each  of us is on a journey to become the greatest version of ourselves. The greatest version of ourselves is not perfect,without emotion ,devoid of anger or avoids confrontation. The greatest version of ourselves is one that includes  authenticity, self-advocacy, allyship and self-love. 

The process to obtain this kind of life has not been easy for me. I wake-up every morning and go to bed every night with self-doubt, insecurities and at times wishing to have someone else’s life. I do not claim to have the answers ,the questions or the response for what we should be doing to become the greatest version of ourselves. I can only speak from my truth through the lessons I have learned in the journey to becoming me.

There is NO wrong way to turn – I have learned that my life is not a map or gps system.  I cannot simply follow a certain set of directions and be guaranteed the outcome.  No matter what direction I go in, I will be the recipient of learning and developing myself.  No matter what experiences I am having ,I can choose where I will go and how I will get there. In other words, I have to realize that there is  NO wrong way to turn.Turning my yearning into earning – I have spent so much time throughout my life  yearning for what I did not have . I did not realize that I had the power turn my yearning into earning. I understand now that it is ok to want things in the future and to even set goals.  What is more important for me is to focus on  turning my yearning into earning. I want to have a family and partner. Right now ,I do not have either and so I am working on myself so that I will be a recipient for those things in the future. I have learned that you cannot pour water in a broken glass.  Likewise, I cannot expect a direct deposit from others if I am not willing to first open a personal account. I no longer live waiting for what I don’t have ,rather I live with what I do have and enjoy the journey.Just because someone is related to you doesn’t mean they are family-

 Many years ago, a therapist on a talk-show said something that shook me to core. She said “Just because someone is related to you doesn’t mean they are family”. I have many ,many relatives but a small circle of those in my family. My family includes those connected to me by love and acceptance. If I truly love,accept and honor myself I can only be around those who do the same to me.  Just because someone is related to me doesn’t mean they have the right not love,accept or honor me. One of the hardest things I have to do is to let go with love.  Once a relationship is toxic ,the toxicity spreads into the other parts of myself and I can no longer live the best version of my life . It is not failure to let go with love, but rather healing separation.

I was always ok all along – I have spent much of my teen-age years and my adult life wondering what I did wrong to be treated so poorly. I wanted so badly to find the solution to this mystery that it completely consumed me. The solution I found was to build my life like the blueprints of those around me.  On the outside ,my structure and frame matched the measurements I was provided. On the inside, everything in my soul was broken, empty and gutted out. A few months ago, I began to create my own blueprint and burned the other plans I had failed to copy. As I rebuild myself, I now know I had the power all along to create a beautiful masterpiece. I was always ok all along but I got blindsided by the cruel injustices that plagued me. Today, I no longer let the  judgement of others sentence me to death. It’s ok to put it down,walk away and let it go-  I am a survivor. I am surviving trauma from religion,racism,abuse and homophobia and more. I carry so many weights on my shoulders that at times I find myself stumbling through life. I find myself in despair and  in clouds self-doubt. These weights keep me in a constant cycle of entanglement and pain that nevers goes away. I cannot free myself.  I cannot do it alone. Therapy has taught me  the skills to put it down ,walk away and let it go. It does not mean that I  should forget what has happened or that it was justified. It means that I can find healthy ways to cope with my emotions and heal from the inside out. It is a life -long process that brings peace to my life and has restored my sense of being.Stop living a photoshop life– I no longer keep with the Joneses.  I no longer try to present the world a photoshopped version of myself. I no longer feel guilty when dishes stay in the sink too long, if I don’t meal prep and order pizza or I take time for self-care . Tomorrow is promised to no one and I intend to live my life regardless of others  approval. I no longer want to live in deceit ,I will  live only in my truth.

Becoming the greatest version of myself is not easy, is not instantly gratifying and not without sacrifice.  These self-realizations are but a few steps in the vast journey that is my life. I cannot wait to add to my blueprint  and to create a new foundation of freedom.  I am on the journey to becoming me.

Knitting, Un-Knotting #CopingWithCOVID19

[image error]A pile of yarn balls in different colors

My name is Abby and I love to write. I’m thankful to be here, to have a place to put some of my words. I’ve written guest posts before, and I’m excited to share my thoughts with you on an ongoing basis as a perma blogger. I’m a writer, or I’m trying to be. I’m a mother, though I’ve never given birth. I’m a wife and a sister and a daughter and a friend. Right now I’m an active member of the church, though my relationship with my faith and with the church as an institution have changed over the last two years. Washington state is my home, whether I live there or not, though I do live there now. I wrote this piece a couple weeks after schools here shut down because of the COVID-19 pandemic. I hope it speaks to you. 

I made a little yellow dish cloth on my knitting needles this week. I found a buttery yellow ball of cotton yarn in my stash; I made a slipknot, placed it on my needle, and started knitting. It’s a simple cloth called a granny square. It’s made entirely in garter stitch, so there’s not a lot of counting or pattern consultation, no tricky stitches to look up on YouTube. Garter stitch creates neat, even rows of bumps. The edges, made by the tiniest deviation from the garter stitch rows, come out looking as if I’d put more work into it than I have. It’s simple, easy to make. Something your grandma may have had on hand. Something a farm wife might have made a hundred years ago and used as a dish cloth, trivet, hot pad, whatever she needed. 

With life being in this strange, quiet chaos, my fingers were longing for the repetitive motion of simple knitting. My mind yearned for the back and forth, back and forth sway of the needles in a mindless, soothing rhythm. It’s like the needles are rocking my brain back and forth, calming the parts that are anxious and scared and tired. Somehow it works. 

My husband refers to knitting as witchcraft because I take a piece of string and make it into a whole piece of cloth, a whole hat, a whole sweater. My eight year-old, having tried and quickly given up at learning to knit on a pair of needles, watches me in awe. It’s amazing to him the way my hands move deftly, effortlessly through the stitches. His eyes get big when he sees that after only a few minutes I have a neat triangle hanging from my needles. To his mind what I am doing is pure magic. It’s pure magic to me too, but in a different way. I understand how the stitches are formed, how the yarn loops together. I remember those first attempts—how hard it was to make my hands do what I wanted them to do, like a kindergartner learning to tie her shoes-—but since I’m the one who put in that effort, the muscle memory does not surprise me. What does surprise me is while I work this yarn into a series of knotted loops, somehow, at the same time, the knotted loops inside of me untangle one at a time. Just like magic.