Say More: At Last She Writes It
No. 25 | October 2024
I am….but…
by S. Parker
One interesting thing about being from Utah is that Utah
is notorious for Mormonism. Inevitably when I meet someone new, I always get some variation of the question: “So, you’re from Utah. Does that mean you are Mormon?” Many members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints (which I will now just call The Church) may be excited, if also nervous, about the potential missionary moment. And, truthfully, I remember times in high school when I would travel and meet people my same age, and I would be excited to tell my new friends that Mormons don’t have horns and no longer practice polygamy so that they could see, like I did then, how good The Church is.
A few decades and a few years into a faith transition later, I was recently asked the same question by a colleague who is not from Utah. Honestly, my initial instinct was to lie. It felt too complicated to say “yes.” But, when I opened my mouth, “Yes” was all that came out. The woman who asked me, smiled politely and nodded. I was expecting follow-up questions but none came.
What did come were a lot of follow-up thoughts.
Yes, but it’s complicated.
Yes, but please don’t judge me by that.
Yes, but I’m not sure it means what you think.
Yes, but I’m not sure it means what I think. Not anymore.
Yes, but I really want you to think of me as a follower of Jesus Christ.
Yes, but all I really “know” anymore is that God is love and love is what everything else should be seen through.
Yes, but I’m trying to look expansively at my faith and incorporate traditions and ideas from other faiths that bring me closer to my Heavenly Parents.
After reflecting on this experience, I realized that these internal reactions were all from fear of being judged by my association with The Church.
Fear that someone would think I was racist.
Fear that someone would think I was exclusionist.
Fear that someone would think I was homophobic.
Fear that someone would think I was not a Christian.
Fear that someone would think I was even a polygamist.
Fear that someone would think I was participating in a cult.
Fear that someone would think I blindly follow male leadership without real thought.
But, mostly, that someone would think I would judge them based on “my” beliefs.
And yet, this is my church too. My parents clung to the stability of The Church to raise their kids after the chaos of their own childhoods. Which in turn made my childhood full of firesides, ward parties, roadshows, sacrifice, standards, temple trips, and young women camps. Following suit, I’ve invested decades of my life into this church—for good or bad.
I’ve volunteered countless hours in callings and service.
I’ve dedicated time to learning the scriptures and doctrine.
I’ve spent Sundays in pews, with many of those hours spent convincing children to sit still and pay attention.
I’ve made all the covenants and taught of their importance to my children.
So now what? How should I answer the seemingly simple question, “are you a Mormon?” I'm still deciding. One day at a time. Line upon line and precept upon precept while simultaneously hiking an uncharted path to carve a nuanced place in my orthodox ward and family so that I can continue. Here. In my church. So that hopefully, one day, I don’t feel the need to apologize for my association with The Church and the harm that others see (after all, I see it too).
And, I hope that one day love rather than judgment will be assumed because of my association with The Church. I want to be anxiously engaged in the change while understanding this choice is not right for everyone. And, there may come a time when it is no longer right for me.
Torn
by Anna McEwen
Spiritual Games of Hot and Cold
by Kimberley Graham
When I was a kid, my two younger brothers and I loved to
play the game “Hot and Cold” with our dad. I’m sure most kids have played it at least once or twice growing up. My dad would hide a treat and each of us would take a turn trying to find the treat he hid as the other two would watch the person playing and cheer them on when Dad would say, “Warm…Hot…Hotter…Hotter..You’re Burning Up!...Flaming HOT!” when the kid playing got closer to the end goal on their turn. We would also snicker when the person playing would get confused and start to run around frantically as Dad would say, “Cold..Cold…Colder…Freezing Cold!...Ice Cold!!” Sometimes the games went on a bit too long for each of the kids. We didn’t know what our reward or treat was, and our dad wasn’t giving up any hints as to what it was we were looking for. We were just told each of us would recognize it when we found it. This definitely led to some frustration in the game. Sometimes, because we didn’t really know what it was we were looking for, each of us would be spurred on by, “You’re Burning HOT!” only to pass it by several times and become confused as to how we could miss it and need to be redirected so much. Each of us had a different way of reacting when a game went on a little longer than we thought it should. My younger brother, Ian, who was the middle sibling, was—unfortunately for him—the most comical to watch. My youngest brother, Rhett, and I would just giggle at him as he got more frenzied and frustrated, leading to anger and over the top flailing body expressions as he yelled and eventually cried, threw something and gave up, stomping away. (As a child, it was hysterical, but as an adult, I feel bad for the poor kiddo.) When it was Rhett’s turn and a game took too long, he was more likely to get distracted by a pretty rock he wanted to play with, or some bug he found. Or he would just lose interest altogether and go inside to do something more entertaining, because looking for the hidden surprise became boring, and the treat itself was not motivation enough to keep looking. When I would get discouraged, on the other hand, I would look to my dad for reassurance when I felt like I had spent too much time playing the game, looking for the treat. I would repeatedly ask him “You’re sure it’s around here?” “You did actually hide something and aren't just messing with me?” I needed lots of gentle affirming to keep going, which helped keep my spirits up to continue searching, usually outlasting my brothers on their challenging days. Sometimes on my more challenging games, I would find the treat, but sometimes I had to look to my dad and say, “Sorry, I tried my hardest to find it. I give up, but can I still have the treat anyway, whatever it is?” My dad was always a softie and made sure each kid got their treat whether they found it or not. We had played the game and he didn’t want any of us to walk away empty handed. Ian was usually the first to be called back to calm him down. His tears were dried, and he was given his treat. I was left to struggle for a bit and was usually second in the bunch to get my surprise. And Rhett was handed his treat over a little time with an inward eye roll just to make it fair to all the kids. I’m not sure if our reactions had more to do with our ages and birth order or our personalities. Maybe a little bit of both?
I tell this story because I think it has a lot to do with humanity as a whole looking for meaning. Everyone is looking for the hidden prize, but nobody really knows for sure what the prize is, or what it even looks like. Humanity tries to commune with God, Heavenly Father, or a higher power of some kind to get some sort of direction on which way to go as they try to move forward to find said unknown prize. Because of lack of knowledge or human understanding, the directions can seem pretty vague at best. This is where religions come in, to try to give some understanding of what that mysterious prize is, and what it must look like. Some aren't even sure if the prize is there and need assurance to keep going, like my own example of continuing to ask my dad for reassurance when my somewhat guided search started to feel fruitless or monotonous. Each person and individual generation that came before us tried to make sense of the world from their own knowledge or perspective depending on where and when they lived. This is why we have so many different viewpoints of religions and cultures, that can change with knowledge and time. God can only tell us hot and cold, and we choose the direction we want to take, depending on how we see or envision the world. I think the game is ongoing for many people, and is never fully completed. It just ends, and new people who have been waiting in the wings and watching how the previous game played out pick up the torch or baton, and keep searching off the guidance given to previous players. I feel like as science and knowledge progress, that is God telling us, “You’re Getting Hotter!”, and previous beliefs and assumptions look stupid and archaic from our current perspective. A good example is New Testament stories where certain people were believed to have been possessed by devils. If we look at the symptoms given in the stories, many possessions can be explained with diagnosable medical conditions, such as epilepsy, schizophrenia, depression, and bipolar disorder. I’m sure there are more examples of this from other religions and ancient cultures that originate from different parts of the world, but I’m working from a Judeo Christian background, with roots in Mormonism, so I’m going to stick to what I know in my own personal observations and studies.
I think a large part of the problem is nobody really knows what the prize is or what it looks like. It reminds me of a story from my favorite Australian children’s book author, Esta De Fossard, who wrote a bunch of books in the 1980’s. My children love her Koala book series to this day. In “Koala and the Great Comet Search,” Cockatoo tells Koala that the comet is coming and he will be “lucky if you see it.” Koala asks what is a comet, and Cockatoo only tells him he will know it by its tail before Cockatoo flies away. Not knowing that Cockatoo meant that Koala would be lucky TO SEE the comet in general, Koala sets out to find the comet, not knowing what it is he is looking for, because he believes that seeing the comet will personally bring him luck. Eventually Koala runs into Goanna and tells him about the lucky comet, trying to describe what the comet is from Cockatoo’s description. Goanna decides to join in the search for himself and subsequently sets off a chain of events where he tells another animal about the lucky comet, and adds his own detail to the original description. Then that animal does the same thing to the next animal they run into, and the chain continues until the description has gotten very long and convoluted and all the animals are searching for the lucky comet. Still nobody has any idea what they are actually looking for. The last animal to hear about the comet is Possum, who wonders what everyone is looking for. When Possum hears a description of the comet from Lorikeet, the last animal in line to get the comet’s description, Possum decides the comet sounds too scary to look for, even if it would bring her luck to find it. Eventually Cockatoo comes back and asks Possum what all the fuss is about. Possum describes the “animal” that everyone is looking for. Cockatoo’s response is, “Sounds nasty to me, I’d rather search for the comet!” Before Possum can tell Cockatoo that everyone IS searching for the comet, Cockatoo points out the comet in the sky to Possum, who decided not to search for something she knew nothing about. In the end, Possum is the lucky one, and everyone else misses out. The last line in the book gives you the moral of the story, which reads, “IF YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU'RE LOOKING FOR YOU’LL NEVER KNOW WHEN YOU’VE FOUND IT.” I think this is very true in real life and our “Hot and Cold” game.
I genuinely believe that with each generation God tells us, “You’re getting warmer” through science and learning, and we try to pick up where the last generation left off to get closer to the end goal. I don’t personally believe in the concept of “the ideas of men mingled with scripture,” because nothing is “pure,” because none of us live in a vacuum, and nobody ever has. We are all bumbling around, looking for the same thing in our game of hot and cold, sometimes running into each other. We are all looking for the prize, and none of us knows what the end prize is, or what it even looks like. We are all so sure we will know what it is when we find it.
There were many kids before us that played hot and cold with God and could not find the prize but made it further and held out longer than those before them. Some made it a little closer, others not so much. But I feel like all of them got to see the prizes for themselves in the end, just because they tried their best to play the game, just like our dad wanted to be fair and make us happy. The world I know originates from Judeo Christian, Greco Roman, and colonial European ideas and ideals. The ideas of Asian culture and religion are also sprinkled in along with ideas of indigenous peoples of the American continents and Pacific Islanders, because our world is smaller and more connected since the invention of the internet. I feel like some of our more charismatic past leaders had a personality closer to my youngest brother Rhett. The rocks Rhett saw resemble concepts. Some concepts are new and rough, where others have been left behind when someone’s turn in the game ended, or just tossed aside and discarded. Some rocks have been picked up and edges smoothed out with each previous owner on purpose, or by accident—one rock bumping against other rocks inside a pocket full of rocks.
It is so easy to struggle and get sidetracked for whatever reason, no matter who you are.
I feel like our earliest Mormon prophet Joseph Smith was just that type. He had so many religious stones to glean, as well as his cultural ideas and the regional social norms of his time period. I envision Joseph Smith as a little boy full of wonder and zest for the world around him, playing the game of hot and cold, examining rocks as he goes, dropping the ones he doesn’t like and plopping the “extra cool” ones in his pocket. Every now and then a stick shaped like a sword or gun makes it into his pocket, along with a frog or bug, like Dennis the Menace. Little Joseph plays the game in earnest, but distractions abound. “This big rock called Protestant Christianity seems pretty cool, but it’s too big to fit into my pocket … maybe I’ll just hold it for a while.” “You’re getting warmer,” Dad says as Joseph takes a turn towards personal revelation. Joseph stops to pick up another rock, “This clear green one called folk magic looks cool and pretty!” Plop, into the pocket it goes! “You’re getting warmer,” Dad says as Joseph makes a turn and realizes the Trinity is three separate personages who share the same goal. Joseph picks up a rough sparkly rock called Swedenborgism and plops it into his pocket for later. “You’re getting warmer,” Dad says as Joseph walks towards being a seer of visions and other things. Joseph picks a bouquet of daisies, roses, thistles, dandelions, and other wildflowers representing all his friends, followers, and believers picked up along the way, and stuffs them into his pocket. “You're getting hotter,” Dad says as Joseph makes a turn towards teaching people about the principles of baptism and committing to follow the teachings of Jesus Christ. Joseph becomes enamored with a rock shaped like a star with eight points called FreeMasonry. Joseph thinks that the shape is incredible, but maybe he can make it better if he shines it up or paints it, and puts it in his pocket. “You’re getting hotter,” Dad says again as Joseph makes a turn towards encouraging everyone to have personal revelation and egalitarian input on what we can now call church practices. Joseph picks up a stone that is smooth and worn called Old Testament ideas and ideals and plops it into his pocket. The stone feels so good to touch, he continues to stick his hand into his pocket, just to feel its smooth soft texture. “You’re getting hotter,” Dad says when Joseph makes a turn towards temples and meetinghouses starting to be built. Joseph picks up a frog called polygamy and tries to hide it in his front pocket. Mom would never approve of him keeping a frog, but he might be able to keep it for himself, if he can keep it hidden from her view. Little Joseph revels in keeping his secret frog pet to show it off to his friends later. What would they think? Would they be jealous? Would they think it was gross? Would they share and participate in his secret? “Uh-oh, you're getting cold,” Dad says as little Joseph makes a turn towards religious exceptionalism and encouraging Mormons into moving to places en masse, out-populating and agitating locals. Joseph sees a stick in the ground shaped like a gun and another stick that looks like a sword. Now Joseph can play soldier because of perceived threats such as religious persecution. “Getting colder,” Dad says as Joseph makes a turn towards trying to use his position as prophet to con people into giving him their money. Joseph stops, and the little frog he had been hiding wriggles out of his pocket, no longer able to be suppressed. As the frog jumps away, Joseph runs after it to catch it. As Joseph runs after the frog and gets further and further away he can hear Dad say, “Colder…COLDER…getting colder…Freezing cold!...ICE COLD!... You hear me? I said Ice Cold!” Joseph hears Dad, but pays no attention. He's too busy trying to catch the frog who has slipped away and to get it back under control. He makes all sorts of mad dashes to use his power to coerce, lie, and use doublespeak to get his way. He zig zags closer to finally capture the frog with both hands. Dad’s echoes of Ice Cold only register as lyrics to an Outcast song, “Hey Ya”, to which he finishes the verse in a celebration and victory dance for catching the frog.
That is when, out of breath, Joseph sits down to empty his pockets and look at his treasure he has gathered along the way. He looks at how the rocks might have changed bumping against each other in his pocket. Some are smoother, some are broken, and others he decides he doesn't need anymore and discards. Joseph seems to be content sitting and playing with his treasure of rocks, sticks, a slightly damaged bouquet, and frog, and can’t imagine what else Dad had in mind to give him. He was told he would know his prize when he saw it, so all THIS must be the prize he was promised; nothing could be better or top this?!
Eventually Dad realized little Joseph was content to stay where he was and he wasn’t moving. Dad told Joseph the game was over and it was time to give someone else a turn. Joseph was given his treat for trying and ran inside.
Other kids after Joseph saw the pile of kid-treasure left behind. Not many of them were able to move from the spot where the treasure was left. It was too distracting and too tempting to just sit down and play with. Some kids refined the rocks, shined them up, and painted some. One kid decided the frog was just too much trouble to keep and released it back into the wild. Other kids got rid of some rocks only to trade them for new ones made of the same stuff, but different in size and shape. They were different rocks but the rock still felt somehow familiar from the last. Each of those kids had their turn and not many moved much closer to Dad’s prize. Most thought that they had found it because they believed the previous kid was right.
A comfortable groove in the dirt was made over time, and after a while so many kids were so comfortable with where they were sitting, and what was in front of them, that they became reluctant to move and look up from their precious treasure. They didn’t realize Dad was still trying to direct them in the hot and cold game. Eventually, one by one, Dad ended the game and gave someone else a turn. Each kid still got the prize for trying once the game was over.
I use examples of my Mormon faith and historical leaders, because it’s what I know. I’m sure you can find all sorts of similarities with other faith leaders from every faith and denomination around the world when they are given their turn at the hot and cold game. Mormons are not special and we are all searching for the elusive unknown end prize; nobody knows what it is or what it looks like. It is so easy to struggle and get sidetracked, no matter who you are.
This leads me to the other personalities in search of Dad’s prize. All the middle siblings and Ian’s of the world start out abounding in confidence that THEY KNOW what they are looking for and know exactly what it looks like before they even see it. They may or may not have paid too much attention to how previous games played out, but are confident that when it is their turn it will be easy and simple, and they won’t make the same mistakes. Usually these are people who have grown up in absolutes and there is a right and wrong to everything. Many come from high demand religious backgrounds, and are certain that the religion in which they were raised happens to be the “right” one, and everyone else is wrong. When the game goes too long, these are the kids of rigidity and cognitive dissonance. For these kids, the game goes one of two ways. The first is the one I originally described with my brother Ian. They live in religious scrupulosity, because in the game it has gotten them pretty far. They are so close, they can taste it! Then life throws them a curve ball and Dad goes from saying, “Burning up!” to, “Oops! Getting cold!” In the Mormon religion, some of these curve balls can be things like struggling with your role in a patriarchal church system, being a minority race in a white American church, being on the queer spectrum and living anything but a cisgender heteronormative lifestyle, or being divorced or single (and female). Or going to church leaders and not getting help for abuse or poverty issues, lies of omission from top leaders about church funds and tithing dollars, learning the real stories behind Church history and not just the faith promoting kind.
Many folks try to put blinders on, keep their heads down, and try to ignore their own personal feelings and continue to do what they have been told is right. Women try to play the submissive 1950’s housewife role even if they feel miserable doing it, because that is what all women should want and it will make them happy. Gay and trans folks live unauthentic lives in hopes that being in a hetero relationship or living as a cisgender person will “cure” them of their “abnormalities” and who they are. People continue to ignore problems with Church leadership and history they know are not right.
These are the child Dad keeps telling, “You're getting warmer,” but he just keeps missing the mark, second guessing his inner feelings. Where Dad is telling him to go couldn’t be right, could it? That doesn't look like the path he had laid out in his mind. The siblings jeering from the side are members of his own church, laughing at how obvious the path is, not able to understand how he could stumble so much. Dad tries to redirect him, “Getting warmer…nope, cold again… warm…warmer…” but he keeps missing the mark and his confidence wanes. Eventually the conflict between the external and internal voices becomes too much to take; at every turn he becomes more overwhelmed and frantic. Eventually, despair and anger set in as he cries, covers his tears by throwing the largest rock or stick he can find, and stomps off yelling, “I quit!” Dad runs after him, dries his tears, gives him a big hug, tells him it’s ok, and that he did his best and gets the treat anyway.
Love is the treat hiding in plain sight.
The other option for that same personality type is rigidity without any personal cognitive dissonance, being so stuck within their rigidity they refuse to listen to outside sources. This time their confidence is so high in their own “personal knowledge” and experiences, they see other people’s experiences, if they happen to differ, as a threat and challenge against their own. As Dad starts the game, this kid listens, and the other kids are watching to cheer him on. He gets pretty close, and the kids watching are impressed by the confidence of the one playing. Dad redirects several times as the kid playing passes the prize again and again. The kids watching try to help. The one playing just perceives the help as the other kids trying to throw him off track, or “persecution” for going in the direction he knows is right. Eventually he is so sure of himself, he stops listening to the other kids, who represent other opinions outside his known religious world. They are different and therefore he thinks they are deceived and want him to fail. He gives the other kids the bird as he continues the game with Dad, but has lost focus on what Dad is saying. The confidence in his own knowledge has not wavered, and he second guesses where Dad is directing him in the game. He gets pretty close, and finds some of the “treasure” left behind from previous players, claims he’s found his prize when he sees it, and tells Dad he has found the prize and no longer needs Dad to direct him in the search. Dad urges the kid playing to keep moving, that there is something better than the cool rock or rocks he’s found. The child tells Dad, “You told me I’d know the prize when I saw it. As far as I’m concerned, this is it. I don’t need to go any further, I’m happy with this. If this isn’t the prize, it’s close enough.” The child is undeterred from his prize and sits down to look at it, while Dad tries to get his attention, but gives up. After some time, Dad ushers the kid inside to give someone else a turn, giving the treat to the kid who’s turn came to an end. Upon seeing the actual treat, the kid blushes at how far off the mark he was. The treat looks nothing like the rocks he sat down with, and is so much better than he could have imagined. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen, Dad. I didn’t know.” “That’s ok”, Dad says, “You tried, and that’s what matters. You still get the treat.”
I realize, both of these situations could be construed differently by personal orthodox perception. The people who run away crying are people inside the church that are not strong enough to withstand the critiques of people outside the church. The people giving others the bird are those inside the church who feel superior to the guidance of leadership, get distracted, and stop listening to God.
I know the rhetoric more high demand religions would have you believe—I guess perception really depends on where you stand at the moment. These are the things I see from where I stand now, but I realize I don’t have the only outlook on things. I’m just trying to share my thoughts on how I see some of the things in the world right now, in this moment, in hopes it will be helpful to others in some way.
The third personality in the spiritual game of hot and cold is me, the oldest child. This child is the one who searches, and tries to listen to Dad’s directions. “Getting hotter… getting hotter… getting colder.. getting hotter.” This child has tried to not get distracted by the other kids on the sidelines, and tried not to pick up any pretty rocks along the way. They are undeterred in trying to listen to Dad, without any preconceived notions. They were given rocks in the beginning of the game by the last kid who liked them, and slowly dropped each one by one, because they were not helpful and felt heavy in their pockets. Or a hole developed in the pocket over time because the rocks were too heavy or sharp and they fell out on their own. As this child persists in the hot and cold game, they get really close: “YOU’RE BURNING UP! Oops, just got cold.” This child struggles for a long time trying to be a patient. Some achieve the goal, but many humbly ask for reassurance that there is SOMETHING worth searching for, so they can continue a little longer. “You’re sure it’s around here?” “You did actually hide something and aren't just messing with me? Right, Dad?” Until finally they relent and ask, “Dad, I give up, I can’t find it. Can I still have the prize anyway?” To which Dad smiles and says, “Sure, sweetheart. You tried your best, and that was all I asked of you.” And Dad gives the child their treat.
Nobody is just one of these examples. We can switch game tactics and personalities can change several times within a lifetime. Nobody plays spiritual hot and cold exactly the same, and everybody gets the treat in the end. Some are lucky enough to recognize it and gain it in this life. Nobody really knows what it is. Many want to say it is the rewards you will get in the life to come, after this mortal life is over. But if you look at almost every religion in the world, and its moral values, they are always about love, kindness, charity, and helping others. Every time the people in the Old Testament were punished, it was because they were not taking care of the sick and poor among them. Many eastern religions focus on how life is suffering, and that we need to help each other to relieve that suffering. Christianity talks about love and forgiveness and helping others.
I think many world religions have the treat right under their nose. Some are missing the mark entirely thinking it’s something we will attain after we die. I think that we can have the prize in this life because the prize is “The milk of human kindness,” to quote Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol. It is hard to see and touch, but makes life worth living. I find it odd and uncanny that so many world religions would come to a similar consensus of the personal human importance of love, kindness, and charity for our fellow members of the human family and the people close to us. With so many people coming to the same conclusion, there has to be something to this, right? In the end, Dad still loves us, and shows us that our reward IS that all-encompassing love we get to participate in and be a part of, but sharing it in this life would make it so much sweeter.
With the world so polarized as it is now, those things could be hard to see to those who weren't looking for them. “You’re getting hotter..colder…hotter…so cold!” So many religions make “love your neighbor” part of the religion, but lose sight that it should BE the religion. That is the end goal. If every person applied the doctor's oath to “do no harm” and thought about how their actions could better help other people (after making sure we ourselves have our own needs covered), we could make heaven a place on earth.
Love means asking questions and listening when you don’t understand where someone is coming from and not being afraid to change your mind or heart. Love means sitting with someone when it’s emotionally uncomfortable. Love means giving your time or efforts to help others in whatever capacity you feel capable to do so. Love means being present for yourself as well as others. Love is the treat hiding in plain sight. It’s what everyone strives for, and at its core it makes us better people both when we give it, and also when we receive it. I don’t care who you are, or what religion or denomination you belong to. We can all win the spiritual hot and cold game, if we learn to see each other as participants in the same game, and not competitors. Each journey is different, but our goals are the same, and Dad is showing us all the way, so we can each share in the reward of love over exceptionalist ideals.
The Vending Machine God
by W.C.
Contributors:
S. Parker
S. has a literature degree from Westminster College but has worked in the sciences since high school. She’s currently a project manager for a medical device company in Utah. She loves learning, trying new things, and making lists. Though a lifetime feminist, it was being a mother of four daughters that caused her to connect her feminism with the faith tradition she grew up loving.
Anna McEwen
Anna is a history nerd that can spend hours in a museum or at a historic site. She love music, words, being outside, working out, getting lost in books, candles, a nice cup of tea, and eating chocolate. She currently lives in Yukon, OK with her husband and 2 kids. Anna posts some of her poetry infrequently on Instagram @annamacpoetry
Kimberly Graham
Kimberly started her faith journey two years ago. She is a life long member of the LDS church that never felt like they really fit in. Kimberly is a return missionary who went against the grain and prayerfully married a nonmember. She came out publicly as bisexual two years ago and her kids are very loud and proud about their mom. Her husband is very supportive of her and their kids in the church and of all her interests as a stay at home mom. Kimberly graduated from FIDM in fashion design and she love to write. They are originally from CA, but currently live in NJ and have two boys ages 11 and 8, and one girl age 6.
W.C.
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"My parents clung to the stability of The Church to raise their kids after the chaos of their own childhoods." Boy, this and your dual lists, resonated with me. When asked now, I usually answer,
"sorta", and explain there are many wonderful things I love about the faith that formed some of the best parts of me, but that some of my core values no longer align with the proclamations of the church. Yeah, I feel the the need to explain, and that makes me sad.