Several weeks ago the NPR program This American Life aired a stunning segment on Gordon Gee, the Latter-day Saint President of Ohio State University, and his daughter Rebecca. The segment revolved around a series of letters Gordon’s late wife Elizabeth wrote to their daughter as she was dying of cancer. Rebecca was 16 at the time of her mother’s death, and the letters were to be given to her each year on her birthday for thirteen years. Rebecca, however, gradually drifted from the Church, while the letters from her devout mother focused heavily on the deep yearnings she had for her daughter to remain close to the Mormon faith and marry in the temple. Gordon, meanwhile, began to find himself caught in between these letters from his late wife and his daughter, with whom he remained close. The segment, as is typical of This American Life, is handled deftly with balance, in a way that leads you to understand and…
As I dressed my 3 year old in her Halloween costume for the ward trunk or treat, she asked “and mom, what are you going to be?” Oh, I’m too old for this stuff, I thought. Then as we walked in that night, I saw this 70 year-old clown and realized, we’re never too old to feel like a kid again. by Dana Willard of 88 Miles Per Hour ___ This picture is part of our ongoing series highlighting Mormon images. Comments to the post are welcome; all comments should be respectful. In addition we invite you to submit your own images to the Mormon Image series. Other images in the series can be found here. Rules and instructions, including submissions guidelines, can be found here.
The Los Angeles temple at night.
This photo was taken the week before we moved across the country and left all of our family back home. Just a warm summer evening, feeding the ducks with Grandma and Grandpa, and enjoying the experience. I never understood why people said it was great to be a grandparent, until I became a parent myself. Though some days as a young mom seem rough rather than fun, I cherish the moments that I get to kiss their warm cheeks, hug their small bodies, and then out of the blue they say “I love you mom”. When my little ones are grown and having children of their own, I know I will look forward to those same moments; those same little hands; those same sweet faces, of my grandchildren. by Dana Willard of 88 Miles Per Hour ___ This picture is part of our ongoing series highlighting Mormon images. Comments to the post are welcome; all comments should be respectful. In…
This is a group of mostly single Latter-day Saints from D.C. and elsewhere who are on their way to volunteer in a remote Guatemalan village in the Polochic Valley– one of the poorest in the world. Many of the villagers from this area are themselves Latter-day Saints. The volunteer work done be this group consisted of a variety of humanitarian building projects, educational workshops and medical service. This photograph shows just one of several cattle trucks that transported the group to the village. This volunteer trip was recently featured in Meridian Magazine. by Juanita Verma ___ This picture is part of our ongoing series highlighting Mormon images. Comments to the post are welcome; all comments should be respectful. In addition we invite you to submit your own images to the Mormon Image series. Other images in the series can be found here. Rules and instructions, including submissions guidelines, can be found here.
The sweaters that these penguins are wearing are designed to save their lives after oil spills off of the Australian coast. They were knitted by Aussie Relief Society sisters. Who says that LDS service projects aren’t fun? (And as Nate asked last time: Who got to put them on the penguins?) (Picture courtesy of LDS Newroom; originally linked in this prior T&S post.) This picture is part of our ongoing series highlighting Mormon images. Comments to the post are welcome; all comments should be respectful. In addition we invite you to submit your own images to the Mormon Image series. Other images in the series can be found here. Rules and instructions, including submissions guidelines, can be found here.
An oft-quoted passage from our Bible Dictionary states that “only the home can compare with the temple in sacredness.” This statement has been concretely validated in the birth of our children. No experience I have ever had has compared in holiness with our experiences of welcoming our children into this world and into our home. For me, this picture captures a great deal of what my faith is. The baby, a few minutes old, is being weighed. In the mirror you see my wife (taking the picture), myself, our baby, and the midwife mediator who helped us bring our daughter into the world. It very much reminds me of the temple and our covenants. My own pose is for me a visual demonstration of what I hope I am doing as a father. In this picture, as in my life, there is no separation between my religion and my family, my God and family, my home and the sacred, our…
Music is a wonderfully enriching part of church life, both in worship services themselves and in church culture generally. It’s a blessing in many, many ways—including ways that are light-hearted and fun. Forgive me, then, for sharing the following not-so-serious and rather random stories with a musical twist. (1) The ward where I grew up was blessed with a strong number of musically talented individuals, including organists, choristers, and singers. One of those in the chorister rotation was an older gentleman who was a retired professional musician. I’ll always be grateful to him for giving me one of my favorite church memories. Here’s the situation: the sacrament meeting went long, and the bishop announced that we would only sing one verse of the closing hymn. We sang the first verse of said hymn and everyone—bishopric, congregation, and organist—stopped and prepared for the closing prayer. Rather unfortunately, however, the chorister himself didn’t get the message. He loudly belted out the first…
from Bill of Wasilla, who writes:
Dad is the man who lies in this flag-draped coffin. I will not say too much about him for now, except that he was a good father and that, thanks to him, and many more like him, most of them gone now, the evil dream of a man named Hitler died in flames and blood.
We buried Dad on June 2, 2007. He died on Memorial Day.
This is a statue of an angel in the cemetery where my first baby is burried. I like that she’s smiling. Death is heartbreaking but it’s not only sad. I am also filled with hope when I think about my son. He is alive and happy and we can be an eternal family. It has always been such a comfort to know that.
My sister studies outside the John Taylor building on the campus of Brigham Young University- Idaho.
“..seek learning, even by study and also by faith.” D&C 88:118
Halloween scares me. Of course, I’m scared of lots of things—poverty, cancer, rape, gang violence, Satan, etc. I thought I should admit that up front. Make of it what you will.
Photo by L-s Sus, who writes:
The picture is of my wife and son and was taken at my sister’s wedding. It captures many themes that resonate with my concept of Mormon identity: Family, Motherhood, Nurturing, and Beauty. It also reminds me that we have benevolent heavenly parents who reach down and give assistance, and that we are just children in the grand scheme of things.
In an effort to increase the beauty-to-blather ratio around here, we’d like to kick off a new series of posts featuring photos and other images which carry meaning to us because they resonate with our Mormonness. And we’d like to include all of you in this project. That is, we’re inviting you all to send in submissions for the new T&S series, A Mormon Image.
I went on one of the best dates I’ve been on in some time tonight – my daughter and I went to BYU’s World of Dance.
The marble skin of Joseph’s perfectly-muscled chest sparkled like diamonds in the Palmyra sun. Emma stared, captivated by the velvet tones of his voice, the intoxicating scent of his tousled bronze hair. “You should stay away from me,” he had warned her moodily. “I’m too dangerous.” But he couldn’t seem to stay away from her . . . My masterpiece will be available at fine bookstores everywhere, just as soon as I get it all written. I expect you all to purchase copies for home and office, and as Christmas gifts for nieces, and open-minded nephews.
If you want to find a unique Mormon tradition of verbal art, you should listen to Mormons pray
The Book of Jer3miah phenomenon has been noticed on Salon, coincidentally just as an ill-advised Mormon Times essay touched off strong reactions by suggesting that the Great Mormon Novel could never exist.
After reading the post from a couple days ago about optimal tithing rates, I started to think about some of the unanswered questions that have come to mind while I’ve been playing Brick Breaker in Elder’s Quorum pondering the mysteries of the Gospel. It seems like this audience might be able to offer some differing perspectives on these conundrums that, up to now, have kept me at a loss. A lot of you seem to be much smarter than I am. Have at them.
I heard the following story at Sam Wellers about some local LDS Church units and selling books. I don’t know when this happened or who it was — no doubt someone here knows the story better than I do, or knows of a similar story — but it strikes me as the kind of thing that happens sometimes among LDS Church members. It seems some stake along the Wasatch Front did their stake history, and after selling copies to everyone in the stake who wanted one, had a lot of leftover copies. So they packed them up in someone’s pickup and came into Salt Lake to sell them to the various book dealers, knowing that people who lived in their stake were now located all over the Wasatch Front. When the dealer asked how much the books cost, the stake representative quoted the retail price.