READER POST: For seven years next September, this American has lived in a tiny European village.
Where I live now is home to 550 inhabitants and is named after the brook it nestles. This village is quiet, surrounded by fields of corn, hay, and the bright yellow flowers used to produce canola oil. The noisiest sounds are the traffic on the main road.
We live in an old farmhouse on the left, just after you cross the bridge into the village, coming from the nearest city. Our house is directly under the flight path of storks passing from the river to their high treetop nests.
Although our village is small, it does not feel isolated. Very typical of many European countries, it’s one in a network, one village accessible to the next by a short walk. So although the closest thing we have to a grocery is the corner bar-restaurant, which is mostly a bar, it’s still only a two or three minute drive to arrive there.
With a large family that requires plenty of shopping, I visit my favorite grocery store several times a week, sometimes several times in one day. I can reach it by travelling either way on the main road. Continue reading “A Lovely Road”
What Comes Between My Husband and Me
READER POST: I sat in the Bride’s Room, listening to the temple matron, feeling very aware of my first pair of silky garments beneath my temple gown. The bottoms felt baggy, but the top fit well, except for a seam that cut right across my breasts. It felt a strange, having a bra on over the garment top, especially with that misplaced seam. I focused harder, trying to feel the spirit of what was happening. The temple matron quickly taught how to launder garments and told us when and when not to wear them. “Of course,” she said, “you’ll remove them for intercourse, but replace them right afterwards and always wear them overnight.”
I did a double take. What did she just say? Continue reading “What Comes Between My Husband and Me”
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You Are as He Meant You to Be
READER POST: I stand at the bathroom counter brushing my teeth. Three of my four children are in bed and the oldest, a 15-year-old girl, is on her way home. Our house is locked, the windows drawn. I feel at peace, knowing that this day, I have successfully checked off all the religious to-dos; prayers have been said, scriptures read. My temple recommend is valid, my faith strong. While we are not perfect as a family, I feel God is cognizant of our efforts and pleased with our work.
I hear the front door unlock, footsteps on the stairs, and the bathroom door opens. My eldest daughter, the one we prayed to have, the one we were blessed with after a miscarriage and years of trying, stands, not looking at me, defiant and, I see now, scared.
“I’m bisexual and I don’t want to talk about it.”
Continue reading “You Are as He Meant You to Be”
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Lamb
READER POST: And one shall say unto him, What are these wounds in thine hands? Then he shall answer, Those with which I was wounded in the house of my friends.
-Zechariah 13:6
Two thousand years ago, our Savior made his victorious entry into Jerusalem. His people looked to him as a living prophet and Son of God, the messiah who would save them in victory and power. I try to imagine shouting “Hosanna!” and laying palm fronds before Him. What would it have been like to be so near my Savior, to give Him marks of His kingship?
But Christ’s kingdom was not of this world; it would not be founded in the powerful structures of men. His lack of military or financial power disappointed many followers. His social and spiritual might was taken as a threat to the powerful institutions of his day, especially the high priests and scribes, who laid plans for his painful and humiliating death. Continue reading “Lamb”
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Need
HILDEGARD: We all have days when one. more. demand. could be the straw that breaks us. Being needed is good, even necessary to our well-being and community; but being needed can easily cross the line into too much of a good thing.
Demands come from our families, friends, schools, communities, and places of employment; and if you’re LDS, infusing all of these is a constant, compounding need from the church. Continue reading “Need”
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Faith, Priesthood Blessing, and the Unhealed Child
DEBORAH: One of my children suffered a birth injury that left her partially paralyzed in one arm. My doctor initially told me she’d recover in six months. When six months came and went without much recovery, I was bursting with concern and dread. Apparently, most babies with injuries at C5 and C6 do recover, but mine did not—not even after much faith, prayer, fasting, and priesthood blessings that promised a full recovery. By her ninth month milestone, I realized I’d have to accept that, for my sweet baby, a poor recovery was her “full” recovery. Continue reading “Faith, Priesthood Blessing, and the Unhealed Child”
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Life Bi the Closet
LAURA: When I was a kid, my grandparents lived in a house with a closet that had stairs and a hidden cubby inside. It captured my imagination (imagine! secrets in a closet!), and I loved to play in there. Now, of course, I’ve grown too big to fit inside, and even my very best imaginations can’t make me believe that a closet really is another world. I miss that sometimes–being able to make my real world disappear and let my play one be real for a while.
Continue reading “Life Bi the Closet”
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Are Not We All Prisoners?
READER POST: A friend came to visit me today. I haven’t seen her in a while, but I do know that she is there. She is one of a very few people in my community who has shown me love, support, and empathy after a series of painful life struggles led to my divorce. She brought the kids and me a little Christmas gift and wrote me a sweet card. She also listened. She listened to my fears. My hopes. My frustrations. My vulnerabilities. My anger. My sadness.
She listened. Continue reading “Are Not We All Prisoners?”
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A Cup of Sugar
HILDEGARD: I remember the basement being a grand staging area for Mom’s beautiful projects, some of which were for Relief Society fundraising back in the days of bazaars and actual Homemaking meeting. A “bazaar” sounded so exotic! And Mom sure seemed excited to participate. Alight with a child’s enthusiasm during the Christmas season, I watched as she magicked together beautiful things to contribute to the event–whatever it actually was. I’d learn when I was older.
Continue reading “A Cup of Sugar”
Sisters Quorum 