Why the Book of Mormon isn’t what it claims to be.

Since I was a child learning how to read, I have been reading the Book of Mormon. I still open it and read it. But I have never studied it harder than when I was a missionary in California. It was in the last 6 months of my mission that I really started to look deep at it, and when I did, I kept finding things that didn’t belong. This bothered me… My initial doubts in the book started as a missionary because I was bothered by the persistent realization that the contents of the Book of Mormon served its author, Joseph Smith, and his 19th Century audience more than they served the characters in the text.

My Garden Haven

I work on my garden every day. Every day. It needs to be watered daily–twice daily during those awful 90 degree days. The weeds never end. They always come up and need to be pulled, and just when I think I’ve pulled every last one, twelve more appear. But every day something is different. A new flower has bloomed. Another one doubled in size over night. Something I planted didn’t like the summer heat and now its gone. A cat dug up something I need to fix. I’ve had to learn to work hard and be patient, because the payoff is delayed from the initial labor. I have to deal with disappointments. Sometimes something doesn’t grow or doesn’t turn into the flower that I wanted, but the garden is still beautiful. Really, these are the lessons that I needed.

Belonging

The End of Belonging Today is my anniversary; I can overshare if I want to. Last week I wrote a post during a dark moment that I intended to publish today titled The End of Belonging. In it I expressed how I felt 8 months after I discovered my husband was involved in a secret relationship…

On feeling safe

On Saturday I went on a date. Because I got married so young and separated so recently, I haven’t been on many dates since 2008 when I was a student at BYU in Utah just coming out of the closet. My date was a man my age who also married young and recently divorced, so we…

Conference Hopes

On Saturday morning my thirteen-year-old sister snap-chatted me a cute, if dorky, picture of her and my dad in Sunday best with goofy grins and the caption, “Going to General Conference.” It’s that time again. No matter how long it has been since I stopped practicing Mormonism, I can’t seem to miss conference. Between my family, my…

Winter Solstice

Shortly after Michael and I got married, we decided we would celebrate the solstices. The decision had very little to do with any New Age beliefs or anything like that, although I have long been interested in the cosmic and archetypal origins of modern holidays. It was more about starting something new. Our marriage was…