Exponent II's Blog, page 91

I Would Gift Us

These are the gifts I would give us, and this is the way I would gift them.

Bathsheba bathed and a king took her from her husband. I gift us rooftop gardens to bathe in, unmolested.

We’ve been taught that Eve suffered in childbirth for her transgression. I gift us the power to discern God’s curses from medicine’s failures, the spiritual from the biological.

Susanna bathed in a garden and male leaders assaulted her. I gift us Susanna’s powerful voice, and authorities who listen when we use it.

Miriam danced while she prophesied and a jealous Moses chastised her. This year, I gift us sacred prophetic dances free from patriarchal confinement. 

Jael saved all her people, warrior-like, blood on her hands, because men ran back and forth killing each other. I gift us nations that don’t need warriors, and a future free from bloodshed.

Huldah prophesied in the name of God, but her history has been silenced. This year, I gift us power like Huldah’s. I gift us true prophecies of peace and equity, and stories that outlive us. 

Delilah cut Samson’s hair. But a god she never knew, who never spoke to her, told Samson to slaughter her people and we’re told God condemned her for her loyalty. I gift us gods who speak to us, and history written by us, where our love and loyalty are celebrated.

Sariah left her home and friends, wandered without food, without fire, following her husband. When she thought her sons had died in Jerusalem, she mourned and was called faithless. I gift us people who hold us in our sorrow without telling us we’ve failed.

Jezebel served a goddess, one the Israelites also worshiped, but our stories vilify her. Elijah ordered the slaughter of Jezebel’s priests long before she raised a hand against his small religious sect. He built his political power from the ashes of those burned priests, on the back of Jezebel’s broken and dog-torn body. I gift us new ways of worshipping our Mother free from male violence. I’ll meet you in our sacred groves. We can paint our eyes with kohl and tell stories of our matriarchs.

Martha cooked and cleaned and, when she reached the breaking point, was told she had chosen poorly, and we tell her failure like a morality play. But Jesus didn’t divide the fish or loaves for her. No water was turned into wine to free her from thankless and powerless domesticity. I gift us the freedom to choose, really choose, and to know what all our choices are.  

Lot’s nameless wife loved her community and we’re told God turned her into a pillar of salt because of it. I gift us the knowledge that God knows our names and would not punish us for who or how we love.

Hagar fled abuse and was told by an angel to return or watch her son die. I gift us trust that God doesn’t value one life or one group above any other, and he would never ask us to live in an abusive relationship.

Ruth’s husband died so she became the multiple wife of a distant relative. I gift us fulfilling relationships free from economic constraints, no matter what those relationships look like.

Emma believed the rules of monogamy but we have a revelation demanding she celebrate her husband’s polygamy. I gift us rules that suit us as much as they suit men, and a god who isn’t fickle in his application of those rules. And I gift us pure revelations from the mouths of those whose voices aren’t heard over the pulpit.

I gift us new understandings of our old stories. Mostly, dearest friends, I gift us power: power in ourselves, power to be seen and known and safe and celebrated, power to make change. Merry Christmas.

“Open-Theme” – Spring 2023 Call for Submissions

SUBMIT YOUR WRITING & ARTWORK FOR THE SPRING 2023 ISSUE

Exponent II is always accepting submissions on any subject. The best essays start as everyday stories. Something happens to us that we did not expect, or we react to something in an unexpected way. We had a script in our mind as to how a scene would play out; then the story changed and we found ourselves in a completely different narrative. Notice these moments as you move through life; think about moments like these in your past life. These moments are the stories that spark interesting essays.

With one of these ideas in mind, ask yourself a few questions and jot down the answers.

• What was I expecting? How was I living in the world before?

• What happened that I did not expect?

• What were the details of the moment – what led up to this point, what was going on with the main players; what was the setting; what

were the reactions of the bystanders; what did I see, hear, smell, taste, and feel?

• How was the world different afterward? How was I different? How is it now?

We are seeking a balance of fiction and nonfiction through short story, personal essay, and visual artwork. 

Written submissions are due by January 15, 2022. Please follow the guidelines. Authors and artists should identify with the mission of Exponent II.

(Photo by Jan Canty on Unsplash)

To Maxine Hanks, on the 30th Anniversary of Women and Authority

Maxine Hanks and her book, Women and Authority: Re-emerging Mormon Feminism

This month, December 2022, marks the 30th anniversary of the groundbreaking book edited by Maxine Hanks, Women and Authority: Re-emerging Mormon Feminism. The book includes essays by some of Mormonism’s top writers, scholars, and thinkers about issues of women and the priesthood, Mother in Heaven, women’s interactions with the institutional church and male hierarchy, and other feminist issues. It includes excerpts from both historic Mormon feminist discourse and modern discourse on the divine feminine. It is an essential text for feminists, scholars, and people interested in Mormonism and Mormon women. Recently, Signature Books released Women and Authority as an e-book available on Amazon.

To celebrate this significant anniversary, I asked some friends to write a message to Maxine or share what this book has meant to them.

Judy Dushku

As a founding mother of Exponent II in 1974, I cheered when Maxine’s book was published. I had written a paper on Mormon feminists of the 19th century, which became a chapter in our book called Mormon Sisters, edited by Claudia Bushman. That early edition was first published in 1976, by Emmeline Press Ltd. in Cambridge, Massachusetts, largely because no LDS Church affiliate would publish it. One response we got was, “Deseret Book wouldn’t touch that with a ten-foot pole.” Yet here was Maxine Hanks writing a whole anthology featuring papers, books, speeches, and diaries by many of the same women we celebrated in our book, and Signature Books was doing it. We were so glad to know that the sisterhood was national—even global.

Candle depicting Maxine Hanks as the “Patron Saint of Women and Authority,” made by Heather Sundahl

Heather Sundahl

I first “met” Maxine in the fall of 1994. We both belonged to ELWC, Electronic Latter-day Women’s Caucus, which I believe was the first online Mormon feminist forum. I was a 26 year old just out of grad school and while I knew a smattering about feminist theory, I didn’t know much about the women’s movement in my own community, but I gathered that many of the members I regularly chatted with were part of the “who’s who” of LDS intelligentsia. I met Maxine a few months later on a trip to LA. We met up at Lori Winder Stromberg’s house and I was immediately struck by Maxine’s warmth and lack of pretension. Is this the Maxine who wrote that book about women and authority that caused such a stir? I could not imagine why our church would shun someone who was so clearly on a pilgrimage for truth. 

We have stayed in touch over the years, and I am always reminded afresh of her bright mind and true heart. When I began working with Exponent II in Boston, of course they all knew Maxine and spoke of her many contributions to the cause. Now back in Utah, when I attend events having to do with Mormon women and history, Maxine is there. I come back to Women and Authority and marvel that it is still so poignant and powerful. I marvel at Maxine’s humility in returning to a church that felt so threatened by her work that they excommunicated her. She is a gifted scholar, a true disciple, and I am honored to call her friend.

Jeanine Bean

My husband, David, introduced me to Maxine in April 1993. We were in the Bay Area attending our very first Sunstone Symposium. David and Maxine had served in the same mission together in Florida.  I liked her the second I met her. Unfortunately, I met her after her session, but we bought the book and brought it home (without an autograph—something I still need to get…) The following September she was one of the September 6. Over the next few years when attending the CA Sunstone symposium, we would ask those running the symposium if they had updates on Maxine, but never got any meaningful information. In 2010, we attended our first Utah Sunstone Symposium. It was the last session and I was sitting in the back of a packed room. During the Q&A a woman raised her hand to make a comment and I knew it was Maxine. I remember silently tearing up in my seat as I waited for the session to end to approach her, not knowing if she would even remember me. She did remember me and we talked together with my husband for the next hour. Since then (until the pandemic hit), I made a point to meet with Maxine at least once a year when traveling to Utah. We have had many hours of deep discussion. She has provided me with such knowledge and perspective over the years as I’ve wrestled with my faith and my place in the Mormon religion. I have read and reread Women and Authority many times during the last 30 years. It has been both a balm and a frustration. The essays have given me hope, increased my self-worth as HER daughter, and have helped me realize the importance of the feminine divine in my life. The essays have also frustrated me when I think of what the world could/should be if we would only embrace her. SHE holds an important key in its healing.   

The value of Maxine’s friendship, wisdom, and writings have been an integral part of my religious education and spiritual development. I will always be indebted to Maxine.  

Caroline Kline

Women and Authority was my very first introduction to Mormon feminism. I found the book in the library when I was a second-year graduate student, and I was blown away—utterly blown away—by it. I had no idea there was a community of Mormon feminists, let alone Mormon feminist academics who wrote, theologized, and tackled difficult topics with such boldness and clarity. I had no sense of the history of Mormon feminism, and the lengthy historical excerpts gave me an understanding of how Mormon feminist thought developed over time. Women and Authority changed me forever. Because of that book, I finally knew that I wasn’t alone in my questions.

Nancy Ross

I turned 13 the month that Maxine Hanks was excommunicated and heard my parents speak about the collective excommunications in hushed voices. I grew up with Women and Authority on the family bookshelf and a stack of Dialogue magazines in the basement. I went to high school in New Hampshire and I was blissfully unaware of the problems in Mormon history, even as I was observing gender double standards and gaps in funding between Young Men’s/Scouting and Young Women’s. Eventually I would go looking for answers and analysis and Women and Authority was one of my first stops for information and resources as I sought to better understand the relationship between my experiences and Mormon history. For me, the book held both sadness and solace. My most memorable moment of discovery in that book was reading in a footnote that Joseph Smith had a shared vision of Heavenly Mother as part of the Divine Family, and that bit of knowledge was comforting for a long time. Women and Authority remains an important resource for those seeking answers about women, history, and theology in Mormonism. 

Jody England Hansen

This book was such an important part of my journey in writing and speaking about spiritual and faith experiences. I can’t remember exactly what it was that prompted Maxine to ask me to contribute to Women and Authority. I think she had heard me say something at Sunstone, or another gathering. But she was one of the first people, other than my dad, who valued my words enough to encourage me to write about them and submit them for publication. So I wrote several short pieces about some blessing experiences, and some spiritual feminist experiences, and sent them to her. She included them in Women and Authority. My contribution to this book is my first published work. I am so grateful to Maxine for being one of the amazing women who encouraged and helped me discover and practice using my voice—my words as a part of my own journey and also as I seek to make a difference for others. Thank you, dear Maxine.

EmilyCC

In 2001 when I was a divinity student studying feminist hermeneutics, I relied heavily on Maxine’s Women and Authority. While many of the articles were already published in Dialogue or Sunstone, it was so handy to have my copy with all my notes and all the authors’ footnotes to continue my research. It was a unique combination of primary sources and scholarly work that had not previously been done to that degree on Mormon feminism. It gave our field gravitas and was a handy primer I often gave as a gift. I have led so many workshops and discussions using that book, and my heart broke a little when I lent it to a friend and never got it back. Women and Authority had a profound influence on the women of my generation.

Kristine Haglund’s dogeared copy of Women and Authority

Kristine Haglund

My copy of Women and Authority has been dogeared, loaned to friends, dropped in the bathtub, thrown across the room, set on the teacher’s table during a Relief Society lesson as a mild act of protest, cried on, and consulted on innumerable occasions of distress, delight, and deliberation. It is one of my dearest treasures, though still less dear than my long friendship with its author.

Let her work praise her in the gates!

Danielle Calder

Maxine, you are a badass and an inspiration. I admire your strength, your bravery, and your craft. Thank you for your contributions to our community. We benefit daily from your contributions to Mormonism. 

Emma Tueller Stone

I’ve found it difficult thinking about the importance of Women and Authority because, in both my academic work and my personal life, the revelations in this text have become my default understanding of my faith. Thirty years on (and having been raised by a Mormon feminist mother who read this book in her own time), I’ve grown up in a world where we know that Eliza R. Snow was called a “prophetess,” that Mormon women cared about women’s rights, and that God is a Mother as well as a Father. My own research would make very little sense without the foundation that Hanks created in this text. And while I am intellectually aware that this book was groundbreaking, it feels almost more important to acknowledge that, now, many of these ideas feel like second nature.

In short: Maxine Hanks gave us a world in which Mormon feminists can simply assume that women had (and have!) authority within our faith. I cannot imagine my life without it, and I am viciously grateful for her work.

Millie Tullis

When I set out to write on gender in Mormon history and folklore, I found Women and Authority fast. When I grabbed it off the shelf in USU’s library, I was amazed at how well-read this copy was. The cover was soft and well-creased from the dozens of readers who had come before me. In fact, the book looked about ready to fall apart. I started to read, but didn’t finish the intro before I realized I needed to buy my own copy. This was a book I needed to mark up and dog ear; this was a book I needed to permanently have on my shelf. I bought one of the handful of physical copies remaining on Amazon and loved every chapter. I find myself constantly returning to Women and Authority in my footnotes. This was the book that made me want to enter the conversation. Or, this was the book that introduced me to the conversation I wanted to enter.

Rosie Stevenson’s copy of Women and Authority

Rosie Stevenson

My new copy! Thanks for all you’ve done, Maxine! Congratulations on the anniversary.

April Young-Bennett

Women and Authority is one of the first books I read when I became active in the Mormon feminist movement. It inspired me to work as an advocate for women’s ordination and other woman-friendly church policies. I have referenced it often. It was such a privilege to come into the movement with such a wealth of resources already there at my disposal.

Katie Ludlow Rich

When I decided to pursue Mormon Studies and pivot from reading books and articles to writing them, Maxine Hanks was the first person in the field to tell me that my work was important and valuable. It meant so much to me to have her encouragement and support. Like many others here, Women and Authority was foundational for me in understanding the arguments and issues of Mormon feminist theology. So many of the issues in that book are the same key issues today. On several occasions, the book has acted as a compass and signpost helping me think or write through an issue. Its importance cannot be understated. Thank you, Maxine.

I Won’t Beg!

In the teen flick Bring It On: All Or Nothing Solange Knowles’ character Camille tells another that she is too hot to beg as she fawns over a cute male cheerleader on their team.

This quote has stuck by me throughout the years as I use it as my own personal mantra when tredging through the ruins of my love life.

Recently while hanging out with some friends, I cautiously mentioned that while in Utah, I had been dating a young man for a couple of weeks. Almost immediately, I regretted the words as suddenly the air was sucked out of the car and the space erupted into girlish laughter.

Normal conversation turned into a girly interrogation as I was bombarded with questions about our dates and my thoughts about him.

Boy meets girl. Boy goes on date with girl. Girl begs for boy. Wait! This isn’t how the story goes.

Before then, I didn’t have too many thoughts. We had a nice time. We laughed. In my opinion, any other thought process seemed premature especially since I was only visiting America for a short time and would be returning home following graduation.

Still, this conversation brings a very grim reality of being a young single adult to light.

Somewhere in LDS culture, it has been ingrained into the minds of young single adult women that our lives never truly start until we get married. Until then, it appears that we are to live in a perpetual state of limbo, jealously seething from the sidelines as friends, foes and floozies run off to the temple at the speed of light.

LDS culture directly or indirectly teaches young single adults to beg. It tells us that our singleness is a thorn which needs to be pulled from our sides as we try to navigate life. It puts a countdown on our lives, reminding us that we should marry quickly to avoid being a “leftover single”.

But for women in the church, this begging comes at a price.

Women are told to be meek, quiet and even subservient in hopes that it makes them appear more marriageable. Countless hours are spent picking apart their bodies, obsessing over the smallest pinch of fat between their fingers. Church voices are donned in hope that the quiet feminine tone of their voice arouses male attention. Seasonable blonde becomes a trend as every young woman channels a young Barbie doll in hopes of snagging their own Ken.

And when all else fails and none of these methods works, begging comes to the forefront.

Begging for attention …

Begging for validation.

We all want to feel special and validated. Still why was I begging for it? Why was I craving someone to tell me how amazing I was when I knew it all along?

 Begging to be seen and accepted.

 Begging to be considered…

Throughout the years, I believed that this need to beg was simply reserved as a Utah or American problem. Time after time, I had been on the receiving end of calls by girlfriends who throughout the years have struggled, won or had simply given up at the dating game as they vented their frustrations.

Somehow, they all seemed not to realize the power behind the beg. Still, I chalked it all up to living in Utah where marriage is at the forefront of every young adult walking around with a pulse.

It was only when I felt it myself while suffering through my own horrible dating experiences while still in Barbados that I realized too had fallen victim to the beg. I wanted to be seen. I wanted to be seen as pretty and gorgeous. I wanted someone to tell me that I was. I craved the attention and needed to be validated. I wanted to hear that I was a good person. I wanted to hear that I was a good member.  I needed to hear that I was a desirable person.

Most importantly, I wanted to be considered. I wanted to feel as though I was an option and not an afterthought. I wanted to know that I was someone’s first choice. And once I did, I wanted to know that I was the only one they wanted.

Now this toxic trend has been with me since the beginning of my membership where I was confronted by leaders who instructed me to return from trips with husbands or someone I could go to the temple with. It was repeated that I should make myself appeal to the male gaze so that I could slice off a piece of the celestial pie that everyone who was sealed in the temple would feast upon.

It was drilled into my brain that I would be nothing without a man. That my life would not start without a marriage or babies running around my feet. And at each failure, I was reminded of my unworthiness until my confidence was an evaporated puddle against scorched earth.  I was reminded that I would never marry. That no one would care. And that if I wanted love, I would have to beg.

Slowly I’m coming to the realization that I can throw away the map people have set for my life and live life on my own terms…whether or not its a popular choice

In the years since, I’ve been unlearning begging. Still, it’s difficult. My singleness is worn as a badge of dishonor each and every Sunday for all the world to see. Married friends now judge from the sidelines as I refuse to beg or lower my standards for the sake of celestial applause. The comments have been muddled, ranging from genuine concern to those who tell me I am a bad person for delaying marriage while I focus on my educational goals.

In recognizing my own strength as a woman, I surround myself with happiness in whatever form it looks like, living a life on my own conditions and rules while existing in a church that believes that marriage is the greatest joy in life and the one which should be pursued at all cost.

I trust myself not to beg…not to bow down for the sake of bowing down. I trust myself to live in the moment, holding on to those relationships that add value to myself instead of the ones who take value away.

I won’t give me up just to be the perfect LDS woman or to attract the male gaze.

Instead, I choose me, my happiness and whatever path the Lord takes me on to whatever destination he leads me to.

Vol. 42 No. 2 — Fall 2022

COVER ART — “Spontaneous Choreographies” by Ashley Thalman
“Spontaneous Choreographies” was created in the Summer of 2020 as a collaboration between me, my partner Matthew Peterson, and A Duet — a project started by our friend-client dancers Haleigh L armer and Megs O’Brien. My statement is my work and what you see, or don’t see in it, is it. I experience my work for creativity’s sake; its highs and lows, its shape-giving energy, and its expressions found in the mundane and extraordinary of everyday life. I love, parent, friend, write, co-create images, and paint large format backdrops for photographers, designers, and other creative souls.” ashleythalman.com | @ashleythalman

LETTER FROM EDITOR “An Unabashed Love Letter” by Rachel Rueckert

ESSAY “Proximity/Affinity” by Lorren Lemmons

POETRY Excerpt from “Contradictions of Friendship” by Aubrey Johnson

FLANNEL BOARD  “Compassionate Conversation: Tips and Techniques” by Orinda Darling

POETRY “After We Spoke” by Marni Asplund-Campbell

ESSAY “Tripp” by Kate Bennion

BOOK REVIEW of I Spoke to You with Silence by Katie Ludlow Rich

ESSAY “Georgia On My Mind” by Heidi Naylor

BLOG FEATURE by April Young-Bennett, Natasha Rogers, Trudy Rushforth

SABBATH PASTORAL “Friendship with Christ” by Andrea Porras

BOOK REVIEW of Book of Mormon for the Least of These, Vol. 2 by Kirsten Campbell

POETRY “Mary, of Magdala” by Elizabeth Pinborough

ESSAY “Best, Worst, Weirdest” by Whitney Bush

THEOLOGY “Called to Love” by Rin Butler

ESSAY “Can I Get a Witness?” by Heather Sundahl

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EDITORIAL STAFF

Editor-in-Chief Rachel Rueckert 
Managing Editors Carol Ann Litster Young
Art Editor Page Turner 
Managing Art Editor Natalie Taylor 
Layout Designer/ Editor Rosie Gochnour Serago 
Women’s Theology Editor Eliza Wells 
Sabbath Pastorals Editor Fara Sneddon 
Poetry Editor Abby Parcell
Blog Feature Editor Katie Ludlow Rich
Subscription Manager Gwen Volmar 
Proofreaders Kami Coppins, Cherie Pedersen, Karen Rosenbaum 
Additional Staff Caroleine James, Sandra Clark Jergensen, Karen Rosenbaum 

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EXECUTIVE BOARD

President Lori LeVar Pierce
Treasurer Jeanine Bean
Secretary Kirsten Campbell
Members Crystal Adams, Zannah Bingham Buck, Andee Bowden, Tirza Davis, Lindsay Denton, Carol Ann Litster Young, Rachel Rueckert, Heather Sundahl

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SPECIAL THANKS

Thank you to Ashley Thalman, Claire Forste, Paige Payne, Sofia Augustine-Adams, Kristin Gibby, Madeline Rupard, Samantha Zauscher, Kathleen B Peterson, Rachel Henriksen, and Melissa Tshikamba for allowing us to publish their artwork. We are also especially grateful to Jolynn Forman, who illustrated artwork specifically for the essay, “Tripp.”

Exponent II (ISSN 1094-7760) is published quarterly by Exponent II. Exponent II has no official connection with The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Articles published represent the opinions of authors only and not necessarily those of the editor or staff. 

Copyright © 2022 by Exponent II, Inc. All rights reserved.

“‘Substantive doubt’ is part of the life of faith.”

Photo by Pablo Heimplatz on Unsplash

I have always wrestled with my faith and when my husband suddenly left our fundamental religion six years ago, stumbling from Mormon to Christian to agnostic to atheist over the course of a year, we both found ourselves in the depths of doubt and uncertainty.

In the beginning, with stories of divorce and infidelity, I kept hearing and reading the phrase “faith crisis.” The word “crisis” made me think of eminent peril or some life-threatening condition that we were not equipped to “fix,” something that would trick us into betrayal and affairs and make us not ourselves.

In time, however, I was led to the book Stages of Faith by James Fowler. I cannot express how this book healed, changed, and empowered me. It helped me re-image faith and realize that faith is ever-changing and evolving just like our emotional, relational, and sexual development. It helped me realize that faith is a human phenomenon; it is the search for profound and ultimate meaning and how we choose to express that meaning. Just as we transform through human development, our faith transforms and evolves through faith development. In the book, Fowler uses the human development models of Erikson, Piaget, and Kohlberg to better understand and identify faith by stages. I realized that Steve and I weren’t having a “faith crisis,” but a natural faith maturation.

Fowler’s research demonstrates that “when our deeply invested henotheistic ‘god’ fails us or collapses, it results in dislocation, pain, and despair. Only with the death of our previous image can a new and more adequate one arise. Thus, ‘substantive doubt’ is part of the life of faith” (31). In other words, when our childhood faith fails, when the ‘god’ we were given by our family and tribe dies, we grieve and then build something new, something that makes sense to us with the doubt that collapsed our faith. Therefore, doubt is not only normal, it is vital in development. This book was clarifying and validating and gave me language that had been missing from my lexicon.

Doubt, as a word, transformed into something new and beautiful. And not just a beautiful and necessary part of moving from one stage of faith to another, but the means of movement. This perspective helped me realize that my husband and I were not going to unknowingly divorce because of our doubt, doubt doesn’t take our choices from us, it illuminates the possibilities and opportunities that we have. With our faith transitions, our relationship changed; our doubt moved us into a place with more choices and more freedom. Divorce was definitely an option but not one we wanted to make. This faith transition gave us the opportunity to choose each other again and again; certainty had trapped us with one option but doubt gave us infinity.

Not only were we re-imaging faith, but we started re-imaging our relationship and ourselves. There was “dislocation, pain, and despair” as we let go of our past, and embraced creativity, healing, and freedom as we moved forward. Surprisingly, doubt brings deep meaning to me personally. It allows me to be creative in where and how I find meaning; it encourages me to be active and learning; it invites me to explore myself and my world and the people I love. I’m not afraid of doubt anymore: doubt is our inner self searching for truth, questioning what we’ve been given, and trusting our soul to follow a path that is our own. Doubt has taught my husband and me to listen to and love ourselves, and by extension, each other. I am no longer afraid of my doubt or anyone else’s.

Contrastingly, nihilism is the thought that life is void of meaning. Fowler argues that nihilism, and not doubt, is the opposite of faith. When I heard “faith crisis,” I thought there were only two endings: going back to where we had been (impossible option), or the death of faith: nihilism (tragic option), but I was wrong. Steve and I both created something meaningful and different in the debris of “our previous image” of faith because “only with the death of our previous image can a new and more adequate one arise.” We didn’t absolve all meaning because we explored our doubt, we found more.

Steve and I are different in so many more ways than just faith. The phrase “faith crisis” made us fear our differences and how we find meaning in different ways, but through our doubt, we have learned to celebrate them: I believe in the human magic of language, nature as a teacher, and the power of women; Steve finds meaning in laughter, sex, and the immense power of his body. We are learning to love and explore our differences and allowing each other to find meaning in our own ways: I can choose to attend church and Steve can choose to have his name removed from the records.

The phrase “faith crisis” made us believe that our doubt would create a cavernous gorge in our marriage, but it didn’t. It made a slight avalanche, maybe an earthquake that changed the landscape of our relationship and our faith, and it also allowed us to acknowledge our differences and choose each other, know each other, and listen to each other for reals.

Talking to Heavenly Mother in the Pre-Op Room

[image error] Photo by Bret Kavanaugh on Unsplash

I’m thinking about my mom today. Tomorrow would have been her 60th birthday. Instead, she died ten years ago from primary peritoneal cancer, the twin sister of ovarian cancer.

This morning I was interviewed by a reporter from a national outlet about my essays on Heavenly Mother. In preparation for this interview, I re-read my essay from here, “Elder Renlund: Heavenly Mother is Not a Weapon,” and my essay from Dialogue: A Journal of Mormon Thought, “Mothers and Authority.”

When the Dialogue special issue on Heavenly Mother came out, I was invited to be on a podcast discussion with several of the contributors. I was grateful for the opportunity and enjoyed the experience, but found myself drained at the end. Some of that was my introversion and post-performance anxiety, but some of it was that my Dialogue essay discusses how my Mormon feminist awakening is intertwined with my mom’s cancer and death. Though I submitted the essay about a year before its publication, it ended up that the podcast was recorded the week of the 10-year anniversary of my mom’s death and a week before Mother’s Day. My mom was buried the day before Mother’s Day in 2012, which happened to also be my first Mother’s Day as a mother myself. My grief was higher than usual that week and had followed an intense two months in the lead-up to and aftermath of Elder Renlund’s general conference talk.

The death of a loved one creates a personal liturgical calendar of grief—dates on the calendar that take on new meaning, that may bring a renewed grief, or just demand reflection. Some of these dates for me include the anniversary of my mom’s death, Mother’s Day, my birthday, and my mom’s birthday.

This year not only is a significant anniversary of loss—ten years—but is also the year that I had a hysterectomy/oophorectomy in an effort to prevent the cancer that killed my mom. Six years ago I underwent genetic testing and learned that I am BRCA1 positive, meaning I have a genetic mutation that gives me a high chance of breast and ovarian cancers. My doctors recommended that I have this surgery by about age 35, and wanting to wait until my kids were just a bit older and in school more hours of the day, I ended up scheduling it for the month I turned 35.

I am six weeks post-surgery today. On Monday I had my follow-up appointment with my surgeon. After an internal examination, she said that I am healing, but on the slower side, as is typical of her patients who are parents of young children. She said everything looks good with my internal stitches, and there is nothing medically that needs to be done, but that I need to be on restrictions for physical activity for an additional two weeks. I left the office discouraged. With the help of my husband and friends, I felt I had gone to great efforts to take it easy. I slept, napped, watched TV, and avoided laundry and cooking. The “work” I did mostly entailed reading and sitting at a computer, with frequent breaks. I wanted to get back to the gym and start walking my dogs again. I wanted, if I dare admit it, to be in charge of the laundry again. Alas, it will have to wait. Healing is not linear, and healing takes time.

It seems like a poetic bookend to this year to have my interview in the same week as my mom’s birthday. It was nice to reflect on my mom and on Heavenly Mother.

After my interview, I went to work going through issues of Exponent II for the book I am co-editing with Heather Sundahl to celebrate the upcoming 50-year anniversary of Exponent II. Our book will come out in the Summer of 2024 with Signature Books. I read through and took notes on five issues today, marking some essays that I want to pull for the selected works section of our book. The last issue I read today included three essays by women with cancer—one woman with leukemia, one with ovarian cancer, and one with retroperitoneal sarcoma. Peritoneal cancer is rare, so I was amazed to encounter this essay. It was a gift to read these women’s stories. Though I will say, that the reflections on Helen Andelin’s Fascinating Womanhood that followed the cancer essays were good comic relief for me as some friends and I performed a skit with dramatic readings of that book for the variety show at the Exponent retreat this year (long live the Lakeview Relief Society!). If that blend of serious and meaningful with lighthearted and comical isn’t a perfect encapsulation of my experience with Exponent, I don’t know what is.

As I’ve spent these months reading through the backlog of Exponent issues, I’ve realized it is very possible that I’ve never had an original thought in my entire life. I joined Exponent as a 30-something with a graduate degree in English who was also a stay-at-home mom of several children who wanted to write about the intersections of Mormonism and feminism in her life. How many other women have had a nearly identical experience with this organization? Many. How many others have written about Heavenly Mother? Many. I’ve decided I’m okay with not being original when I’m in such good company.

My Dialogue essay starts out with me crying out to Heavenly Mother from the shower floor in the midst of caring for a colicky newborn. The reporter today asked if I still talk to or pray to Heavenly Mother. I thought back six weeks to my time laying in a hospital bed in the surgery pre-op space before heading to the operating room. Yes, it was Heavenly Mother I reached out to then, and though I did not have a rosary with me, I said Hail Marys as well.

Tomorrow I will pick up some chocolate cheesecake—my mom would surely agree that there are few better ways to honor her memory. Then I will read more essays from Exponent II and take comfort that nearly every challenge I face has been faced by people before me. And I will rest because that is the work that my doctor and my efforts to heal demand.

“An Unabashed Love Letter” by Rachel Rueckert

I’m writing this letter fresh off the annual Exponent II retreat in New Hampshire, where members of our community have a chance to gather in person to share stories, listen, learn, and connect. There among the tall pines and fresh breeze, I soaked in the strength of wonderful souls while also missing those who could not attend this year.

I wish I could adequately capture in full what friendships mean to me, I really do — perhaps the reason why I selfishly pitched this theme on “friendship” months ago. Though difficult to describe the power of friendship, I think it has something to do with this:

All of my life, I’d been told what family was supposed to be like, what marriage and children and church activity and temple service and so many other things would look and feel like (all with mixed results and plenty of surprises). But nothing — no one — had prepared me for the greatest balm of my life, that of my friendships. They have strengthened me. They have saved me. They have been there when all other narratives came crashing down. They have mirrored back who I was when I forgot. They have seen my best and my worst and carried me anyway. They have been one of the sweetest parts of my journey — a home and a refuge beyond scripts.

Our church culture stresses the importance of family. Many of us have also experienced larger cultural messages that privilege romantic partnerships. Without minimizing or overemphasizing these relationships, we wanted to make space in this issue to center friendship as an essential part of our lives.

. . . we wanted to make space in this issue to center friendship as an essential part of our lives.

Joseph Smith said, “Friendship is one of the grand fundamental principles of Mormonism.” In this issue, we see this highlighted across art, features, and essays. From Whitney Bush’s “Best, Worst, Weirdest” about long-term friendship to Heidi Naylor’s “Georgia on My Mind” on ministering, from Lorren Lemmons’ reflections on distance and relationships in “Proximity/Affinity” to Kate Bennion’s puppy champion in “Tripp,” we see different elements of friendship examined and celebrated.

The exquisite poetry and vivid book reviews in this issue also follow this theme. Katie Ludlow Rich’s review of I Spoke to You with Silence discusses silence and community, and Kirsten Campbell’s review also underscores beloved community in Book of Mormon for the Least of These, Vol 2. Rin Butler’s theology feature “Called to Love” and Orinda Darling’s tips for compassionate communication discuss some ways forward, while Andrea Porras’ Sabbath Pastoral highlights cultivating Christ-like friendships. Across the span of offerings, and in the stunning artwork, there is an anthem of truth.

Like Heather Sundahl in “Can I Get a Witness?” I have abiding gratitude for friends. No one warned me about how beautiful friendship would be. And for that, I am deeply grateful. I have — like the contributors in this issue — had the chance instead to make friendship truly my own.

ARTIST STATEMENT

“Falling Women”

Falling Women is a play on the words “fallen women,” but with more of a comment on how we are all falling in one way or another. Our changing world and our changing circumstances remind us life is never really static.

Kathleen B Peterson
kathleenpetersonart.com | @kbpeterson1

“Proximity/Affinity” by Lorren Lemmons

The first time I met Stephanie, I was exercising. I was dripping sweat, my face flushed and red, when I heard a knock at the door. I paused my dance video to see a family standing on my porch. “We just moved in and heard you were in our ward!” the husband said. “Sorry, I’m […] To access this post, you must purchase Subscription – Digital, or Subscription – Print + Digital, United States.

Excerpt from “Contradictions of Friendship” by Aubrey Johnson

II. Remnants Leaves alight with flame from dying rays split by rocky silhouettes. Another world nestled amongst clouds, guided by a one-way road. Wind whips through our hair as unfamiliar music shouts and you laugh without reservation. I’m holding on to beautiful moments, Cupping them gently like water liable to leak away, Anticipating the physical […] To access this post, you must purchase Subscription – Digital, or Subscription – Print + Digital, United States.