Mormon No Mo Yo

PILAR: Although Juliet opined that “a rose by any other name would smell as sweet,” Anne of Green Gables disagreed and memorably said, “I don’t think a rose would be as nice if it were called a thistle or a skunk cabbage.” I’m not sure which character I agree with more, because they both make valid points.

This week, Russell M. Nelson, president of The Church, announced that the  Lord “has impressed upon my mind” that God doesn’t like the use of the word “Mormon” for this, that, and the other thing. No more Mormon or LDS Church. Strictly The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, unless you use the so-called shorthand “restored gospel of Jesus Christ.” Continue reading “Mormon No Mo Yo”

A Form Letter of Appeal in Support of Let Babies Eat

SISTERS QUORUM: The writers at Sisters Quorum stand in support of the Let Babies Eat initiative and its letter writing campaign, which encourages The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints to establish a policy that supports breastfeeding families, particularly mothers who openly breastfeed on church property. The initiative’s complete list of goals and suggested actions can be found on the Let Babies Eat website, including general advice about how to write a letter of appeal.

Because SQ understands that some supporters of Let Babies Eat are uncomfortable writers—and because we believe that the volume of letters will speak as loudly as the content—we offer our readers a form letter that can be easily copied, adapted, and sent to the female general auxiliary leaders or other general authorities of the Church. The form letter will fit nicely on a single, standard piece of paper with either Times New Roman or Calibri 11 pt font.

Continue reading “A Form Letter of Appeal in Support of Let Babies Eat”

Wedded to What?

HILDEGARD: Shortly after I married my husband, I had a troubling dream. In that dream, I had been carrying on an affair with an anonymous priest—an unknown man wearing a clerical collar. Waking up to wracking sobs of guilt, I felt like I’d been disloyal to my husband, like I’d betrayed him without even trying to.

I had no real understanding of the dream world, and I was new to the world of sexual activity. I felt the need to confess to my husband, so, as hives erupted on my body to accompany my tears, he listened and consoled me that it had just been a dream, and I’d done nothing wrong. Even my horrified reaction was a testament to my loyalty. We talked and laughed and mentally filed it away under “Weird Dreams and Learning Experiences.”

Now, more than fifteen years later, I think there was a message in that dream.  Continue reading “Wedded to What?”

Enough

LEAH: My heart is racing. I can’t believe you’ve done it again.

The card in my cold, shaking hands is addressed directly to my seven-year-old daughter. It wishes her a happy birthday and is signed, “your Primary presidency.”

You’re not her Primary presidency. You don’t even know her. But you and I know that this is far from the first time our name has been on your ward council’s agenda. This isn’t just a card. This is the beginning of another exhausting series of intrusive confrontations with you. Continue reading “Enough”

When Leaders Choose the Wrong

SERENA: A recent story I read online has caused me to wonder where I can turn for peace when a church leader is exercising unrighteous dominion. The story involves a mother who was told by her stake president that if she didn’t refrain from nursing uncovered in a foyer during services, she would be denied a temple recommend. To further add insult to injury, her husband was told he had to choose between his church and his wife, and the leader implied that he should be able to control his wife’s will. This couple reportedly took their case to an area authority who sided with the stake president.  The story caused me to wonder how someone who is being bullied by a leader gets justice when the area authorities are lockstep with whatever a stake president decides. Continue reading “When Leaders Choose the Wrong”

When Ten Billion Roads Converge

MIRIAM: Sometimes it’s just too much.

Our family’s kitchen has two entrances, and the traffic between them is often busy, seeing as many of us pick through leftovers and prepare our own meals. It was one of those soul-tired, spirit-weary days when I had no fresh cooking planned. So when my oldest daughter asked me to make her favorite dish of roasted potatoes and onions, I could feel my universe starting to collapse onto me.

It had been a hard year, one of the hardest in my life. The last few months had tested my courage for the future of my marriage.  I felt like I was walking alone, without my husband.  He was there, but I didn’t feel him with me. The emotional distance between us felt like a cold weight pressing constantly on my chest.

It had been a difficult week, full of all the normal busy stuff and work drudgery, but it had also been traumatic for people I loved. I had spent days trying to help the traumatized. Yet those who caused the pain were resistant to the cries of the wounded, and I felt thoroughly discouraged. The world felt dark and suffocating, and my daughter wanted me to cook on the one night I thought cooking would kill me. Continue reading “When Ten Billion Roads Converge”

To the Sister Who Made this Hygiene Kit

READER POST: Dear Sister,

I was there. With you. Just a year ago.

We assembled hygiene kits for the local women’s shelter. We laughed. We ate chocolate chip cookies and drank pink lemonade. We talked about our kids and our next vacations.

One shampoo, one soap, one toothbrush, one toothpaste. Some get dental floss if there is enough. Sealed in a Ziploc bag. Toss in the bin with the others. Forgotten just as quickly as it was assembled. Continue reading “To the Sister Who Made this Hygiene Kit”