Mormon Women Write

Book Cover

Approximately three months ago, I packed my bags and my baby and hopped on a plane to California to say a few words about the book, Mormon Feminism: Essential Writingsand what coediting it with Joanna Brooks and Hannah Wheelwright has meant to me. Many of my words are about writing, and legacies, and memorials. Others are about baby nap-times, and gratitude, and resolution. I quote authors, philosophers, and women I love, and I get teary. It is hard not to be moved by the intertwined, brave, lived history of Mormon feminism.

Thanks to the magic of technology (and the good folks at my Claremont Graduate University), you can watch my remarks here. If you listen especially carefully, you may even hear my babe pronounce, “Mama.” (A shoutout to my kind classmate and colleague who cared for her in the back.)

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Heavenly Mother’s Day: I Dreamed I Wrote Five Poems

Screen Shot 2015-05-11 at 11.36.02 PM

When Martin Pulido and Caroline Kline announced the A Mother Here Art and Poetry Contest, I wished that I was an artist or a poet. I wanted to add my heart stirrings to the collective swell. Instead I sent the call for entries as close and as far as I could, inviting some of the best and dearest creatives I knew to contribute. In response, one mentioned that she looked forward to my poem. Her assumption that I too would be making an offering gave me pause, and then it gave me the courage to try.

The first stanza came while I walked to a friend’s house. I tapped it into my phone’s note function, and typed it up when I returned home. I thought that I was finished. I had my single poem–my single try to say how much Heavenly Mother meant to me. But that night I had one of those rare dreams you remember upon waking. I had written five Heavenly Mother poems, and I was reading them over a pulpit.

I couldn’t remember the words, but wrote four more stanzas in morning’s light.

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Relief Society Lesson 8: The Power of the Word of God

Traduction en français/Click for French Translation
Saturday April 4, 1986 marked the first day of the first General Conference that Ezra Taft Benson served as President and Prophet of the LDS Church. Our present lesson comes from the remarks he gave that evening in the Priesthood Session. It is also quick to affirm while the words were first spoken to “priesthood leaders” the principles taught “apply to all members of the Church.”

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Poetry Sundays: Chrysalis

J. Kirk Richards

Maybe I have been searching for a poem to share for this Resurrection Sunday, and maybe I have been struggling. I have found parts of poems that are perfect, like Edna St. Vincent Millay’s “Spring,” “The smell of the earth is good. | It is apparent that there is no death,” but have not found a whole perfect poem. And then I saw this one, by our beloved Melody. She has a clear and beautiful voice, as well as a clear and beautiful understanding of Christ’s relationship to Heavenly Mother and to women. So here, here is a poem for Sunday, to add to my contribution for Friday.

Three days of white
threads wound
fine
around
around.

Three days of light
shrouded linen
fine
white
light woven.

Three days of. . .

“Where hast thou laid him?”

And she thought,
“Are his wings still wet?”

When he said,
“Touch me not.”

 

Melody Newey © 2004

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The Tree of Life

Mother Earth – Caitlin Connolly | A Mother Here Art and Poetry Contest

When Jesus was sorrowful,
and very heavy,
He cried, Mommy.
She came unto Him
from heaven,
strengthening Him.

Even after they parted,
She tarried with Him,
and watched;
His friends could not
stay awake one hour.

When Jesus was on the cross,
His Father might have been
in the farthest reaches of heaven,
for sorrow, and solace.

His Mother might have been
right there, the Tree of Life,
branches holding Him–
a weeping willow.

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