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The Gospel Doctrine lesson #32 ;  Doctrine and Covenants 135 ;  “Remembering the Martyrdom.” ;  “Ministry of Joseph Smith: Sealed His Testimony with His Blood .” D&C 135 , the announcement of Joseph and Hyrum Smith’s murder, states that “Joseph Smith, the Prophet and Seer of the Lord, has done more, save Jesus only, for the salvation of men in this world, than any other man that ever lived in it.” Clearly, the use of the word “men” in this verse refers to both men and women. That said, as I considered what to share in this post, I’ve contemplated what the work of Joseph Smith has meant for the salvation of women in this world. Joseph Smith restored truths that have blessed me as a woman and brought me closer to God. Joseph Smith understood the value of women’s contributions in building the kingdom of God and acted accordingly. As President Julie Beck taught , an important part of the work of restoration was restoring the pattern of female discipleship that Christ established during his time on earth. After organizing the Relief Society, Joseph Smith taught that, “The church was never perfectly organized until the women were thus organized.” He recognized female organization wasn’t a pleasant side program – it was essential to the restoration of all things. The words he used when he spoke to the Relief Society promised divine power and purpose. He taught that the society is “not only to relieve the poor, but to save souls.” He invited the women to “administer in that authority which is confer’d upon them.” He talked of godly gifts available to the society, stating, “I now turn the key to you in the name of God, and this society shall rejoice and knowledge and intelligence shall flow down from this time.” When people complained that Nauvoo women “were not going right in laying hands on the sick & so forth,” he called out their “jealous eyes” and said that they should rejoice that the sick could be healed. He spoke to women as disciples with power, strength, and authority.1 This heritage of female discipleship matters to me. My church service has stretched me, improving my talents, deepening my understanding, and giving me the powerful connection to Heavenly Father that I seldom feel as strongly as when I am united with Him in efforts to serve His children and do His work. I have been blessed to see God at work when men and women bring their best offerings to the table and work in unity. Joseph Smith also restored truths about the work of women in the eternities through introducing the doctrine of a Heavenly Mother. After Zina D. H. Young’s mother died, Joseph Smith comforted her by teaching that not only would she see her earthly mother again, but that she would be also reunited with her Eternal Mother. While he never publicly taught the doctrine, past and current church leaders have more thoroughly expounded on it throughout the years.2 The truth of a Heavenly Mother has revolutionized my outlook on so many spiritual matters – how I view my path along the plan of salvation, who I’m striving to become, the covenants I make in the temple, and the divine nature present in every woman I meet. And there are countless elements of Joseph Smith’s work that may not seem woman-centric, but have impacted my salvation in distinctly female ways. My parents’ obedience to the Word of Wisdom has spared me from so much of the abuse caused by alcoholism and drug use that generations of women in my family have suffered. Family relationships I’ve forged will continue in the next life. I have laid profoundly female trials at my Savior’s feet, knowing through scripture Joseph translated that Christ suffered for more than our sins – he suffered for “our pains and afflictions and temptations of every kind” (Alma 7:11). It would be disingenuous to imply that I do not have complicated feelings about decisions Joseph Smith made as he executed polygamy, and the way they impacted women’s lives. But it would also lack integrity for me to deny how richly blessed my life as a woman has been by truths Joseph Smith revealed. 1. The First Fifty Years of Relief Society: Key Documents in Latter-day Saint Women’s History, edited by Jill Mulvay Derr, Carol Cornwall Madsen, Kate Holbrook, and Matthew J. Grow, published by The Church Historian’s Press, 20162. David L. Paulsen and Martin Pulido, “‘A Mother There’: A Survey of Historical Teachings about Mother in Heaven,” BYU Studies 50, no. 1 (2011): 70–97. Other Related Women’s Voices The following are compiled in The Witness of Women: Firsthand Experiences and Testimonies from the Restoration , written by the Janiece Johnson and Jennifer Reeder. Eunice Billings Snow (age 14) – “On the last day which [Joseph Smith] spent in Nauvoo, he passed our house with his brother, Hyrum, both riding. My mother and I were standing in the dooryard, and as he passed, he bowed with uplifted hat to my mother. Hyrum seemed like one in a dream, sad and despondent, taking no notice of anyone. They were on their way to Carthage jail, and it was the last time I saw the Prophet alive. Shortly after this, my father came home and told my mother that the Prophet and his brother had been murdered, whereupon my mother exclaimed, “How can it be possible? Will the Lord allow anything like that?” Eliza Clayton Margetts (age 12, resident of Carthage) – “In the forenoon of the day on which these atrocious murders were committed some of the neighbors, disguised and with painted faces, came to our house and told mother she had better get out of the way as they were going to kill the prophet that day. A terrific storm arose that day, and in the afternoon we heard the firing of guns and soon after saw some of the murderers run away howling like fiends. My sister Lucy who was at this time living with the jailer’s family, and was at the jail when the shooting commenced, came home and told what had happened. The next day I went with my sister Lucy to the jail, we found the doors and windows open and everything in confusion, as though the people had left in great haste, we went up stairs to the room in which the Prophet and his brother had been shot, everything seemed upset, there were some Church books on the table and portraits of Joseph and Hyrum’s families on the mantle piece. Blood in pools on the floor and bespattered on the walls, at sight of which we were overcome with grief and burst into tears. After becoming somewhat collected we gathered up what we supposed belonged to the inmates of the room at the time of the murder, and placed them together on a trunk that was in the room.” Lucy Mack Smith (mother of Joseph and Hyrum) – “After the corpses were washed, and dressed in their burial clothes, we were allowed to see them. I had for a long time braced every nerve, roused every energy of my soul, and called upon God to strengthen me; but when I entered the room, and saw my murdered sons extended both at once before my eyes, and heard the sobs and groans of my family, and the cries of, ‘Father! husband! brothers!’ From the lips of their wives, children, brother, and sisters, it was too much; I sank bank, crying to the Lord, in the agony of my soul, ‘My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken this family!’ A voice replied, ‘I have taken them to myself, that they might have rest.’ Emma was carried back to her room almost in a state of insensibility. Her oldest son approached the corpse, and dropped upon his knees, and laying his cheek against his father’s and kissing him, exclaimed, ‘Oh! My father! my father!” As for myself, I was swallowed up in the depth of my afflictions; and though my soul was filled with horror past imagination, yet I was dumb, until I arose again to contemplate the spectacle before me. Oh! at that moment how my mind flew through every scene of sorrow and distress which we had passed together, in which they had shown the innocence and sympathy which filled guileless hearts. As I looked upon their peaceful, smiling countenances, I seemed almost to hear them say, ‘Mother, weep not for us, we have overcome the world by love; we carried to them the gospel, that their souls might be saved; they slew us for our testimony, and thus placed us beyond their power; their ascendancy is for a moment, ours is an eternal triumph.’” Louisa Barnes Pratt – “Such consternation was never known, since the rocks were rent and the sun darkened, when Christ the Lamb was slain! I had previously had a presentment that some terrible calamity was at hand, but did not believe the men would be slain! Had the sun and moon both fallen from their orbits, and left the world in total darkness, it would not have betokened a more irretrievable despoliation. I thought the church was ruined forever. I rushed into my garden, when the news was confirmed, and poured out my soul in such bitterness as I had never felt before…It was a still night, and the moon was at the full. No season was ever more sublime. A night of death, it was, and everything conspired to make it awfully solemn. The noise of war was suddenly heard, the voices of the officers were heard calling the men together and coming in the distance made it fall on the heart like a funeral knell. The women were assembled in groups, weeping and praying. Some wishing terrible punishments on the murderers, others acknowledging the hand of God in the awful event…From that hour I watched for words of comfort and drank them in, as I would an antidote to relieve the pain.” Jane Elizabeth Manning James – “When he was killed, I would have liked to have died myself, if it had not been for the teachers, I felt so bad. I could have died, just laid down and died; and I was sick abed, and the teachers told me, ‘You don’t want to die because he did. He died for us, and now we all want to live and do all the good we can.’” Sally Carlisle Randall – “There are many that will rejoice and think Mormonism is down now, but they will be mistaken, for the Lord has begun his work and he will carry it on in spite of all mobs and devils.” « Polygamy and the Law of Sarah Faith & History »

The Gospel Doctrine lesson #33 ; Doctrine and Covenants 107:22–24 ;  “Preparation of Brigham Young: The Preparation of a Leader.” I often hear people say that the church is the same wherever you go. This is true for some of our more obvious practices-from our meeting protocols to the speech patterns we fall into when we talk about spiritual experience. It’s true in our deeper theology as well. We can walk into any Sunday service and be offered the same sacramental covenants and blessings, we read the same scriptures, and we find hope in the same Christ. It’s natural to value consistency and continuity within the church organization, especially when we read scripture verses in which the Lord says “I change not,” (3 Nephi 24:6/Malachi 3:6)-but if there’s anything that a study of early church history should show us, it’s that this is a church of change, and that there has been (and still is) significant variety to our religious experience. Lesson 33 talks about one of these moments of crucial change, describing the upheaval surrounding the death of Joseph Smith and the beginning of the Mormon pioneer migration from Illinois to the Salt Lake Valley. The lesson focuses on the succession of authority, when Brigham Young and the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles led the Saints under precarious circumstances. Despite the contention within the church membership, some breaking away to form their own groups, others simply fading back into the landscape of the American frontier, this difficult era was not the end of Mormonism. Rather, it set a precedent of collective leadership that allowed later transitions of authority to happen with little trauma. But this same era saw a more troubled transition for the women of the church. After Joseph Smith’s death, Brigham Young disbanded the Relief Society, fearing that small group meetings of women would encourage dissent or discontent. Many of these Mormon women still supported Brigham Young’s leadership, and beginning in 1846, fled the violence of Illinois mobs with their families, hoping for a peaceful home in the West. Significant numbers left Nauvoo in cold weather over muddy roads, stopping at camps in Iowa and eventually wintering in Nebraska before travelling by wagon, handcart, and on foot to Utah. The manual records that, “On the first night of encampment at Sugar Creek [in Iowa], nine infants were born.” Along with many other births, there were deaths from sickness and exposure, so many that there is no accurate record of the number. Of all times to need a Relief Society, this was one! But a lack of formal organization and authority didn’t stop these women from gathering and meeting together, ministering to the needy, and simply enjoying one another’s company on the westward trek. Without their Relief Society identity and without their president, Emma Smith, who had stayed behind in Illinois, the women on the trail banded together and got to work. It wasn’t until 1854 that local chapters of the Relief Society were formally reinstated within the church structure in the Salt Lake Valley, but even with gaps in leadership and organization these women had been praying and singing together, blessing each other and caring for the sick and needy all along. Patty Bartlett Sessions One woman’s meticulous journal shows a glimpse of life on the trail and highlights some of the variety of Mormon religious experience: Midwife Patty Sessions recorded the events of her 52nd birthday on February 4, 1847 in Winter Quarters, Nebraska. She attended a gathering of singing and dancing, visited with Eliza R. Snow, met with the “Silver Greys” (older folks at the camp) for more singing, praying, blessing, and speaking in tongues, and finally assisted two mothers in labor in the evening. The next day she records more of the same: assisting at a birth, ministering at a deathbed, and then attending another gathering of music and dancing! In a poignant conversation with her dying friend Joanna Roundy, Patty remembered her own deceased children and “sent word by [Joanna] to them” trusting that her friend would see them when she passed through the veil. Sister Sessions’ experience of culture and worship might not look too familiar from a modern Mormon perspective. Speaking in tongues was common in those early gatherings, for example. Families looked different, with some women in polygamous marriages, while other monogamous women were living apart from their missionary husbands. And the Word of Wisdom was not a required set of dietary rules—In her diary, Sister Sessions records giving a toast of brandy to her fellow believers! With these differences of practice, can her story still be relevant to us? There are many reasons to study the transitions, progress and regress of church history. History gives us precedents to follow, models of courage and faith, justification for traditions and beliefs. But it also presents us with a past culture that is inevitably at a distant remove from our own experience and that presents us with problems of interpretation and application. How we grapple with these encounters with “otherness” can define our faith. Do we approach with curiosity? Moral judgment? Reverence or respect? Empathy? Fear? Prayer? Do we let ourselves encounter questions that stump us? Do we embrace chances to think deeply about our own moral choices and spiritual convictions? When we reflect on change and transitions in church history, do we always need to justify administrative decisions or defend the wit and wisdom of the believers? Or can we trust in God’s hand even when the story is fraught with human error? In our encounters with these stories and experiences can we find the deep currents of spiritual kinship that tie us to God and one another?

The Gospel Doctrine lesson #34 ;  Doctrine and Covenants 136,  “This Shall Be Our Covenant,  “Ministry of Brigham Young: A Visionary Leader.” How do we continue when we are at our capacity? overwhelmed? terrified? When hope seems cruel? When grief has swallowed us whole? When the darkness closes in and light is a faint memory? When even just the thought of faith is too much to bare? I celebrated my sixth wedding anniversary by moving into my own apartment. I had left my now ex-husband just a few weeks prior. I moved into a lovely prewar apartment in the Avenues neighborhood of Salt Lake City. It was an ideal place for me to find myself again and begin the long road of healing. Even though I wanted to end my marriage…Even though I was beginning to build a life I wanted…I still had to walk through the valley of sorrow into the depths of despair. In this lovely apartment in the Avenues with my life in pieces, I grieved the sorrows of my marriage and the the dreams I had hoped for. The internal motivation to meet my commitments and not to disappoint others was numbed by depression. My morning alarm clock would go off and I wouldn’t care about going into work. The time would come and go that I should have been in the shower, should have been in the car, should have been at my desk and I just didn’t care. But I wanted to care. I wanted to show up in my life. I knew that if I could just get myself out of bed, I could show up in some capacity. But I had to get out of bed. On one particularly difficult morning, my usual pleadings with myself to get out of bed weren’t working and I was already late for work. As I laid there my focus turned to my pioneer ancestors. I visualized them crossing the plains based upon family lore and journals I had read. I thought of what had been asked of them. How they knew the anguish of leaving one life to create a new one. How they knew the pain and suffering of disappointment, betrayal, grief and fear. And how, in spite of all that, they managed to cross the plains step-by-step. They persevered by taking the next step. A voice deep inside of me said – Liz, your ancestors crossed the plains. Their blood runs in your veins. If they can walk step-by-step from Winter Quarters to the Salt Lake Valley, you can get out of bed. Get. Out. Of. Bed. And I did. The lesson manual asks us to ponder the similarities between our journey in this mortal existence and the trek of our early foremothers and fathers. The story I shared illustrates this. It was in that moment when my ancestors transitioned from mythical characters to flesh and blood – my flesh and blood. I could not persevere through the destruction of my marriage and my rebirth with solely my own faculties to draw upon. I needed more and my ancestors provided. I still feel their presence in my life and this moment is a touchstone for me as I continue to navigate the valleys of sorrows and depths of despair that are an innate part of this mortal journey. Now, we are a global church with many converts. I imagine there are more Mormons without Utah pioneer ancestors then there are with. Yes, their blood my run in my veins, but their stories and their legacy are every Mormon’s. The moment you entered the waters of baptism., the early pioneers became your foremothers and fathers – their legacy becomes your legacy, their stories your stories. One of the core values of the Mormon Women Project is the power of sharing our stories. A primary purpose of our interviews is for us as Mormon women to understand that we are not alone and for us to see and embrace the diversity within our community. The interviews are witnesses to the many different ways Mormon women honor our covenants and try to make meaning out of this mortal existence. A woman recently told me that reading the MWP interviews help her persevere in her depression. It was helpful for her to read stories that broke down the myth of perfectionism and see how real Mormon women grapple with real life. This is why it’s also important that we seek out, read and share the stories of the Mormon pioneers. They too can help us persevere in our personal lives and as global citizens. As Mormons it behooves us to know and claim our history that we may be reminded that we are a people who know what it is to be religiously persecuted. That we are a people who know the real consequences of having a country/government turn on you. And what it means to be a refugee. The early Saints were not motivated by a political agenda or a party affiliation. They were motivated by their covenants, by their love of God, by their familial bonds and by their commitment to restoring the Gospel of Jesus Christ. As we navigate the struggles of our lives and of the world, may we remember the sacrifices and perseverance of the Utah Mormon pioneers by honoring our covenants and be courageous enough to take the next step (whatever that may mean).

The Gospel Doctrine lesson #35 ;  Doctrine and Covenants 4:3–7 ;  18:10–16 ;  52:40 ; 81:5–6 ;  138:58;  3 Nephi 18:31–32 ;  Moroni 7:45–48 I appreciate that the stated intent of the lesson is to assert that the “gospel of Jesus Christ is a message of rescue.” When the Martin Handcart company was stuck, the prophet did not wait an extra day for the Sabbath to pass but immediately called on the Saints to organize a rescue mission. What I have learned from this story are three things: 1- Our faith is a faith of action. Recently I was road tripping across the USA and found myself in Kearney, Nebraska on a Sunday. While we had been pulling long hard days with sick kids, I wanted to attend church but it took some oomph to make it. (This is NOT comparing myself to the efforts of the pioneers who did not have AC, vending machine rest stops, and a cooler of snacks.) The woman who spoke in the Sacrament Meeting was an amazing reward for my effort. She spoke about the youth going on trek and learning that faith is not a noun but a verb. We don’t need to have faith we need to LIVE faith. I love that. Beliefs are all well and good but we have to LIVE what we believe. A bishop in a Washington DC ward once called a special meeting to discuss the fate of two young women in need. As he said, “This is where religion hits the road. Today we decide if we act our faith.” 2- Action sets things in perspective. Washington, DC was a place that potentially could have a very divisive ward. There were many super smart, super passionate, super political folks in our congregation. But the truth was, there were so many people in need we had no time to fuss about our differences. And isn’t that the truth everywhere? If we look around, there are people in need everywhere. Quit fussing and start helping. (I say this sternly as I am mostly talking to myself.) And I think the truth of service is that when we forget ourselves and live in service, then many others things seemingly just smooth out with this perspective change. And we ALL need the reminder! (President Hinckley tells the story of his father telling him, “Forget yourself and go to work.”— and he was the prophet!) So, next time I am bemoaning the rubs of my life, someone remind me. 3- Perspective leaves no room for judging. When we have the perspective that we all have woes and we all could use kindness, there is no room left for judging. When hearing of the Martin Handcart company saints stranded along the trail, the SLC saints could have judged them harshly. Why didn’t they plan better? Why did they leave late? What did they blahblahblah? Truth is, we all get stuck at some point over some thing. What we need most at that moment is kindness. As a person who stands in need of saving from Christ (i.e. all if us), let us not judge those who need saving… in all forms. There are people all over the world right now who need us. Who need real, temporal items like clothes and food. There are people who need a smile. There are people who need to be welcomed. Quite simply, we are all in need and all beggars before Christ. Our mission in life, as followers of the Lord Jesus Christ,” said President Gordon B. Hinckley, “must be a mission of saving.”

The Gospel Doctrine #36 , Our Heritage, pages 81–96,  “Ministry of Brigham Young: The Master Builder.” When I moved to the Avenues neighborhood in Salt Lake City, I would frequently meander through the cemetery, making my way to large obelisks, figuring they marked the burial spots of those important in Salt Lake City history. This approach generally proved true, and they were always the grave markers of men with their wives’ and children’s much smaller headstones scattered around them. And while I knew the histories of most of these men, I usually knew little to nothing about their wives. I’m embarrassed by this fact, but in reading through the provided materials for this particular lesson, I’m reminded how little of women’s stories, even from our own history, are included in our correlated materials. The story of the building of Zion has long been framed as a man’s story. I’m pleased though to see more efforts on the parts of historians and lay members to ensure it is known as a women’s story, too. Sure, it was the men who physically built buildings, including homes and temples, built streets and infrastructure, constructed canals for irrigation, and engaged in many other aspects of physical labor. But pioneering was difficult work for women, too. Eliza R. Snow certainly did not sugarcoat life in the newly settled valley to emigrating European Saints: Think not, when you gather to Zion,Your troubles and trials are through—That nothing but comfort and pleasureAre waiting in Zion for you.No , no; ‘tis design’d as a furnace,All substance, all textures to try—To consume all the “wood, hay, and stubble,”And the gold from the dross purify…Think not, when you gather to Zion,The prize and the victory won—Think not that the warfare is ended,Or the work of salvation is done.No , no; for the great Prince of DarknessA tenfold exertion will make,When he sees you approaching the fountainWhere the truth you may freely partake.[1] And I love Susa Young Gates ’ words describing the reactions of the first three women to arrive in the Salt Lake Valley. She wrote, “Men may plough and build, but women and children give life, cohesion and glory to these outer substances. Harriet Young , wife of Lorenzo Young, cried out at the desolation about her. ‘Weak and weary as I am,’ she said to her husband, ‘I would rather go a thousand miles further than stay in such a forsaken place as this.’ But she was a heroine and quietly accepted her lot…. Ellen Kimball said nothing, but she worked with zeal to make a home in the wilderness. Clara Decker Young , Brigham’s lovely young wife, said, ‘I am satisfied. We enjoyed the social life of Winter Quarters; but things do not look dreary to me here. There are no trees, but they can be planted.’ And she went calmly to work making a peaceful home out of the wagon boxes.”[2] These women had already done many hard things, and while arriving in the Valley meant an end to their journey over land, building civilization from nothing was no easy task. As senior curator of the LDS Church History Library explained, “They were starting from scratch. If they were going to establish a community here, they had to establish it from the ground up. Hardly any of these people had any experience in doing that….So they had to build roads, and they had to build irrigation systems and transportation systems and communication systems, and they had to build social institutions and they had to build all these elements…with relatively few resources and with relatively little background experience.” Women were at the forefront of building Zion. Included below are a few women (with links to further reading for some) who helped the desert blossom like a rose in small and large ways using their scrappiness, their skills, their combined resources and each other: In the 1880s, Margaret Shelton Kinsey , a teenager at the time, collected patches of wool from trees and fences, left behind by sheep, and formed them into small balls that she sold. She gave this earned money to the building of the Salt Lake temple.[3] Drs. Romania Bunnell Pratt , Martha Hughes Cannon , and Ellis Shipp : Three women, all highly accomplished in their own rights, attended medical school in the East, returning to the Salt Lake Valley after graduation to use their skills in building clinics and hospitals, treating ailments, and providing medical training. (All three women accomplished much more in addition to their medical work, too. Each is worth learning about individually). “ Mary Jane Dilworth who arrived in September 1847, and in the following month opened in a tent the first school in what later became the territory of Utah. The Saints had wisely foreseen their needs and carted several wagon loads of valuable books across the plains. Although having but few pupils, and only a tent pitched within the walls of the “Old Fort” in which to meet, her venture was successful and laid the foundation for one of America’s ranking school systems. Sister Elvira Cole Holmes arrived soon after and made her home in the ‘Old Fort.’ Following the example of Miss Dilworth, she also taught one of the first schools held there, taking sego and thistle roots and wolf meat in payment for her services, while occasionally she received the luxury of a scant supply of bran, for bread. She made butter and cheese, selling it to help maintain her home. Her husband raised wool, which she spun and wove into cloth. Home-made shoes, dresses made from hand-carded wool, a calico, gingham or home-spun silk gown, were for best wear, while some less fortunate wore wolf, fox or bear skins.”[4] The legacies of these and other pioneering women remind me that no matter the small scope of my influence, no matter how barren and hopeless the current state of affairs may seem, I have the ability to use my scrappiness, my skills, my resources, and the help of my fellow sisters, to make the physical and figurative deserts around me blossom like a rose, too. [1] As quoted in Janiece Johnson and Jennifer Reader, The Witness of Women: Firsthand Experiences and Testimonies of the Restoration, (Deseret Book, 2016), 161-162. [2] Susa Young Gates and Leah D. Widstoe, The Life Story of Brigham Young as quoted in Susan Evans McCloud, “In Our Lovely Deseret: Who Were the First Three Women to Enter the Salt Lake Valley,” Deseret News , July 23, 2014 [3]  “Stories of Sacrifice and Devotion: The People Who Loved and Built the Temple,” Mormon Newsroom, [4] As quoted in “Centennial Lessons: Church History for Women — 9. The First Year in Great Salt Lake Valley” on Ardis Parshall’s blog Keepapitchin’, February, 9, 2009

The Gospel Doctrine lesson #37 . The manual’s stated purpose for this lesson is, “[to] help class members recognize the need for our living prophet, understand his roles, and more faithfully obey his counsel.” Recognizing the need for a living prophet has never been an issue for me. I was born into the faith – having a living prophet is the only type of organizational structure I have personally know. I was born with a believing spirit. Believing in the authority and mantel of the prophet came easy to me. Obeying his counsel, however, is another story. Sometimes this comes easy to me; sometimes it doesn’t. Some of my struggles with obeying the counsel of the prophet have been the result of youthful striving for independence, a lack of maturity or an uninformed understanding of principles and doctrine. And some of it has been straight-up defiance or laziness. But the hardest struggles have been when the counsel of the prophet doesn’t align with my lived experiences or my core values. These moments challenge me. These moments bring me to my Heavenly Father in tearful heartache seeking direction and comfort. There have been times when I’ve been able to reconcile my beliefs with the counsel of the prophet. This usually comes when I humble myself and stay open to the teaching of the Spirit. And yet, there are still some things, even in humility, I have not been able to reconcile. So, what do I do? I keep my covenants. I’ve lived life not honoring my covenants, and I’ve lived life honoring them. Honoring them brings me peace and hope. Being rooted in peace and hope sustains me as I put my shoulder to the wheel to collaborate in the creation of a faith community that is egalitarian and generous. I seek personal revelation. My relationship with the Godhead is a life’s work. I’m continually learning the nature of our Heavenly Parents, to have faith in Jesus Christ and how the Holy Ghost communicates with me. Seeking revelation strengthens and affirms my relationship with the members of the Godhead. I wrestle. Just as Jacob wrestled the angel, I wrestle with the counsel that I disagree with. And I wrestle with my feels and thoughts about it. The Gospel of Jesus Christ is not fragile. The Church is not delicate. So, I push back. I pull apart. I dig. I question. Yes, it’s frustrating and sometimes even scary, but I find that I am stronger daughter of God for having done it. I get to work. Being an editor and contributor to the The Mormon Women Project gives me a platform to connect to all of you. It reminds me that I’m not alone in my faithful striving to have women’s stories shared, honored and empowered that we may be a stronger community and faith. I works as a Relief Society teacher to create space for the sisters of my ward to talk through their struggles and challenges without judgement and shame. I bear my testimony to myself. I cannot deny the witnesses of the spirit that I have received. I cannot deny my sure knowledge that I am a daughter of Heavenly Parents, who love me. I cannot deny that I love this gospel and Mormons – with all of its/their messiness.

The Gospel Doctrine lesson #38 ; Doctrine and Covenants 38:30 ;  42:30–31, 42 ; 58:26–28 ;  104:13–18 “We are going to do something extraordinary—when a boat is stuck on the rapids, with a multitude of Mormons on board we shall consider that a loud call for relief—we expect extraordinary occasions and pressing calls.” – Emma Smith (in first Relief Society meeting) Welfare is an important part of what we do at church. Until I served in ward leadership callings and watched my husband serve in them, I had no idea just how important it is. As Relief Society president I had expected to spend time thinking and praying about how to bring women to Christ (and I did do that!). But I found that I spent even more time figuring out how best to help families who didn’t have enough food, couldn’t pay rent or were suffering from serious mental or physical health issues. From talking with others who have served in ward leadership callings, I don’t think this was unique. Welfare is central to the work of Relief Society. I love the quote from Handbook 2: Administering the Church, that says, “[Joseph Smith] taught that the Relief Society was organized for ‘the relief of the poor, the destitute, the widow and the orphan, and for the exercise of all benevolent purposes’ In addition, he taught that the Relief Society was ‘not only to relieve the poor, but to save souls.’” I have come to believe that relieving the poor and destitute is an integral part of saving souls. I think often of a story shared by David Burton in his April 2011 General Conference talk: While serving a mission in Scotland, David O. McKay knocked on a door where “a very haggard woman opened the door and stood before him. She was poorly dressed and had sunken cheeks and unkempt hair. She took the tract Elder McKay offered her and spoke six words that he subsequently would never forget: ‘Will this buy me any bread?’ President McKay later wrote: ‘From that moment I had a deeper realization that the Church of Christ should be and is interested in the temporal salvation of man. I walked away from the door feeling that that [woman], with…bitterness in [her heart] toward man and God, [was] in no position to receive the message of the gospel. [She was] in need of temporal help.’” There were few things I have done in my life that have found as meaningful as reaching out and extending help to those who need it most. I recognized that as Relief Society president, I had unique access to divinely inspired Church tools to assist them. Yet, I also began to harbor frustration. I became acutely aware of the tools I didn’t have—and more aware than I ever had been before of the gender divide in church leadership. I felt that when we talked about the welfare work done by Relief Society, we often talked about making casseroles for women who had just had babies. “Real” welfare, at least when we talked about it, was left to priesthood leaders. I remember hearing President Eyring’s talk in the October 2014 conference in which he told a story of an emergency where the male leaders planned and organized the response. Completely exhausted from my own emergency responses within our ward, tears formed in my eyes as I asked my husband, “Where was the Relief Society president? I know she was helping too. Why don’t we ever talk about her?” It wasn’t equal power or recognition I longed for. It was equal resources—resources that could enable me to be more effective in my stewardship to “relieve the poor.” I know male leaders are not given tons of training in our church, but they were certainly given more than I was. Bishops attended monthly Stake Bishopric Training Meetings where they covered topics like depression and abuse. Meanwhile, a women overdosed on pills while on the phone with me, and I sat with a family while children interviewed by child protective services and police. In desperation one day, I called the 24-hour welfare help line, designated for bishops. I couldn’t reach my bishop and I had an emergency on my hands. There were many times when someone reached out to me in a financial crisis. A check was needed in short order, perhaps to prevent a family’s eviction. Yet, I couldn’t sign any checks. Neither could any of my counselors. Instead, we had to drive the check to others—men—who were authorized to sign checks, men who often had no knowledge of the situation or connection to the family. In April 2015, President Eyring again raised the topic of welfare work in a General Conference talk. But this time, he spoke of the bishop and Relief Society president using fast offerings to relieving suffering. It may seem like a small thing but the positive effect on me was huge. We must first recognize the important role that Relief Society plays in church welfare work—and always has since the time Relief Society was established by Joseph Smith. Only then will women leaders get the resources and tools they need to be more effective in their efforts to “relieve the poor” and to “save souls.”

Gospel Doctrine Lesson #39 My landlady came into my home last week to oversee the locksmith. We live in central Virginia, where folks are very open about religion, so we know she goes to a Christian church and she knows we are LDS. While we were chatting, she noticed a photograph on my wall which my husband had taken on a trip to Wales. She said, “Oh that has to be Wales! Which castle is it?” She said that she has been to Wales many times, visiting her family’s ancestral homes. Her face lit up as she described her pilgrimage to the tiny villages and cobbled streets where her ancestors were born. She told us that she had gone to the LDS church in one town, hoping to visit their family history center and find some files, but it was closed. “And what a blessing! Because instead we walked downtown to the pub where all the elderly people gather in the afternoons, and they directed me to a very old woman who could read my Welsh documents, and had so much knowledge about the town my family came from!” They forged a fast and lasting relationship. Hearing the way these two women of different nationalities, languages, and generations connected over a family record in a Welsh pub gave me chills. I can see the dots between them and so many forgotten women being connected— zing! zing! zing! —in permanence of heart. Last weekend I thought of this story again when Sister Sharon Eubank spoke to us in the Women’s Session about making connections with women outside of our faith. She spoke of the powerful way in which the work will roll forward when we forge friendships with other seekers of truth. My landlady and I connected over family history with ease and real excitement. Our hearts “turned” to each other. The LDS Church is recognized across the globe as having the most sophisticated family history resources available. But the very fact that this recognition exists points to another fact: people of every faith and no faith at all care about family history . The popularity of genetic testing through companies like 23 and Me or AncestryDNA shows that people want to know where they came from. And secular studies have shown there’s wisdom in it. A study at Emory University found that the more children know about their family history, the stronger their sense of control over their lives, the higher their self-esteem, and the more successfully they believe their families function. Knowledge of family history turned out to be the best single predictor of children’s emotional health and happiness. Sister Eubank made it clear that this is a time to be reaching outside our sometimes insular Mormon niches, and forging real relationships with women of other faiths. Family history is one of the most obvious and powerful platforms on which to forge these friendships. In our MWP interview with genealogy expert Leslie Huber , she said: “For me, family history is something that unites us with many other people. It’s not an LDS church phenomenon. When I would go to these conferences—especially when I lived in Massachusetts—there would be 700 people there and maybe four would be in the church. And these were all people that felt drawn to this work. To me, that is really powerful and something that I think many members of the church don’t see: this work affects so many people who also feel drawn to learn about their family and understand them. I’ve heard non-member genealogists talk about how they have dreams that lead them to particular information or they have promptings to look certain places. One man said, “I don’t chase my ancestors, they chase me.” Those kinds of experiences have always been powerful witnesses to me that this work is very far reaching and has an impact on so many others.” My landlady told me several more stories about her ancestry hunt through Europe. She gave me chills as she described a “feeling of memory” when she walked through one French town. She was energized by light as she spoke. As we connect with non-LDS women over family history, doors will open. That phrase always makes us think of missionary work. But I’m also interested in the doors of our own Mormon hearts, opening to an understanding that we have a great deal to gain from friendships outside our faith. I was humbled by my landlady’s experiences. We learn from her that we have no monopoly on the Spirit of Elijah: women and men of other faiths also have revelatory, goosebumpy experiences as they are led to find their ancestors. They too are turning their hearts, and we have much to offer each other in our searching.

The Gospel Doctrine lesson #40. A few months ago our girls’ youth group had a family history night at the church. The girls had different levels of experience with this, so as adult leaders we decided we’d come prepared to help them with whatever they wanted to work on. Their experiences show the variety within family history work and showed me the inherent value of this endeavor. One girl knew very little about her own family history. When she was a baby, her mother had left behind an unhappy family situation and a country at war to bring her to the United States. Now living with a step-father and younger half-siblings, she wasn’t sure what her mother’s maiden name or her grandparents’ names, and she wasn’t clear about the details of her own emigration. During our hour together, she wrote down a brief summary of what she did know. Then she looked at a list of oral history interview questions and circled some that she wanted to ask her mother. This is where family history starts: it means talking to family members, asking for stories, listening to each other, and deepening our bonds with our living families. A second girl already had a family tree that went back about three generations. She was interested in researching primary documents, so we logged into some census records. With just a few tries she was able to identify her great-grandmother and found the names of siblings and an aunt that had been previously unknown. These census records gave her additional insight into her family’s living situation, their income, professions, residence, and neighbors. She also came away with an exciting glimpse of her family’s New York City neighborhood in the late 1800s and a now personalized perspective on the history of her larger culture. Another girl did some indexing, looking at documents from the Philippines and checking the handwriting transcriptions. These documents weren’t relevant to her own family tree, but her work contributed to the family history of others. From our little chapel in the eastern United States, she was serving people on the other side of the globe. Finally, one girl combed through her family tree looking for temple ordinance opportunities. The next time our youth group went to the temple, each of them was able to carry with them one of her family names. She helped her peers bond with each other in meaningful ways and deepened their temple experience. These girls’ activities address some important questions: Why do Mormons focus so much on family history? In what way should this work be connected to our temple experience? And how do these activities give us joy? Researching, retelling, and preserving family histories help us love the family of God a little more deeply. And while we often focus on the temple ordinances as our end goal, in reality, the atoning power of family history work takes effect long before a family name ends up at the temple. As we turn our hearts to those who have gone before, we can also find unity or “at-one-ment” with the living. And when we remember the names and stories of our foremothers and forefathers and offer them the symbols of holiness of our most sacred rites of worship, we come closer to God as we feel his love for his own children. In the temple, I’ve had some of my most powerful experiences of unity across cultural and temporal divides. As I served as an ordinance worker in the Manhattan temple, I learned that a group of vastly diverse volunteers could work in harmony. One day a woman came in, a patron from the Chinese Branch in Brooklyn. She showed the name on her temple slip and said “This is my grandmother” with a voice full of love. And so our group of volunteer women performed the ordinance: We were three women–American, Filipina, and French Arab– working together to help this Chinese granddaughter offer her grandmother covenants and blessings with Christ. We didn’t know whether the name on the slip represented a woman who was rich or poor, educated or not, saint or sinner. In this context, the only thing that mattered was that she was a child of God. This experience might not seem dramatic or earth-shattering, and ones like it happen every single day in the temple, but what could be a more beautiful demonstration of caring cooperation? It is through these quiet experiences that our own hearts can be welded together. And through this unity we can experience God’s love. When Joseph Smith envisioned the purpose of this earth, he saw humanity united by a “welding link” (D&C 128:18). Salvation is dependent on our connection to those who have gone before us, for “we without them cannot be made perfect; neither can they without us be made perfect” (D&C 128:18). This vision of the saving power of a unified human family keeps me going to the temple; it makes the atonement a reality.

Gospel Doctrine Lesson #41 ,  Doctrine and Covenants 1:4–5, 30 ;  65 ;  88:81 ; 109:72–74 . The role of LDS women in missionary work is crucial to preparing the earth for the second coming. In 1979 President Spencer W. Kimball prophesied: “Much of the major growth that is coming to the Church in the last days will come because many of the good women of the world…will be drawn to the church in large numbers. This will happen to the degree that the women of the church are seen as distinct and different-in happy ways-from the women of the world. Thus it will be that female exemplars of the church will be a significant force in both the numerical and the spiritual growth of the Church in the last days.” One particular experience in my life stands out as a fulfillment of President Kimball’s words. My Junior year in high school, I became best friends with a young woman who would later join the church. It came as a bit of a surprise when she told me about her decision to be baptized as we hadn’t seen each other in a while. I had gone off to college, and she had moved thousands of miles away to join the Army. Talking with my friend in the years since her baptism has revealed pivotal moments in our friendship that demonstrate how the example, spirituality and love of LDS women of faith attracts other spiritually minded women to the gospel of Jesus Christ. Such moments often occurred late at night, when Kelly slept over at my house. As girls do, we talked for hours and hours about anything and everything. Looking back my friend said “you were bearing your testimony to me weren’t you?” Yes I was. While our conversations rarely included the direct teaching of church doctrine, I often used our intimate discussions to share the truths I had learned that helped answer so many of life perplexities and bring peace during times of turmoil. I did this, in part, because I was on fire from feasting on the word of God daily (2 Nephi:31:20) through early morning Seminary and personal scripture study. I felt confident in my understanding of the gospel and church doctrine. I also had developed a powerful testimony of the love of God ever since first reading the Book of Mormon at the age of 13. I had “felt to sing the song of redeeming love” (Alma 5:26), and I simply had the desire to share that with my friend. I knew God loved me. That had made all the difference in my life, and I wanted her to know it too. Another moment came when Kelly and I had gone to a local coffee shop for drinks. I ordered a cream soda which was prepared by an acquaintance we both knew from school. As we sat down to talk and enjoy our drinks, I noticed mine tasted funny, possibly of alcohol. Since I really didn’t know what alcohol tasted like I asked Kelly if she thought it was spiked by our barista as a joke. She took a sip and agreed it tasted like alcohol. Kelly told me not to worry about it, even if it was spiked, nobody would know or care. I told her it was okay and that I didn’t really need a soda right then anyway. We sat and talked as my friend finished her drink. Years later, Kelly told me how that simple little act impressed her. She realized my faith ran much deeper than going to church on Sunday. Finally, the moment that changed the course of my dear friend’s life is when she became pregnant at 19. She was afraid to tell me. As she called she worried about how I would judge her and that it might even affect our friendship. After Kelly explained her circumstances and what led up to them, I was a bit shocked. I prayed in my heart for guidance to know what to say to my friend. I had no rebuke for her. I don’t remember what I said, actually. I just remember that I wanted to show her compassion. I wanted to guide her to find the help and direction she needed in going forward. I loved her. Kelly was both relieved and grateful for my response. Lehi’s dream shows us that the whole purpose of living and sharing the gospel of Jesus Christ is love . Firstly, we need to experience that love for ourselves. Then we have the desire to share it. We do this in a million different ways, many of which we may not even be aware were missionary moments, like my experience with my best friend. “Ye are the light of the world, a city that is set on a hill cannot be hid.” (Matthew 5:14-16). This love and light can be powerful enough to change a life and even to change the world “as the stone which is cut out of the mountain without hands shall roll forth, until it has filled the whole earth” (D&C 65:2). Women whose lives sincerely reflect their testimonies, fulfill the words of President Kimball each day.

Gospel Doctrine lesson #42, Doctrine and Covenants 1:38 ;  68:1–4 ;  84:109–10 ; 107:25, 34, 93–98 ;  132:8,  Official Declaration 2    Belief that God calls prophets today makes Latter-day Saints distinct to many of our neighbors. This belief is central, but how does it function in our lives? How is it that prophets receive revelation? How do we receive the word of the Lord? This lesson begins with words from the Lord’s preface to Doctrine and Covenants, “though the heavens and the earth pass away, my word shall not pass away, but shall all be fulfilled, whether by mine own voice or by the voice of my servants, it is the same” (1:38). The Lord’s word is sure, no matter its medium. This is the principle of modern revelation—sometimes God gives mortals the opportunity to impart the word of God. However, we cannot forget that this declaration is preceded by verses that clearly acknowledge the limitations of God’s “weak and simple” servants. The juxtaposition highlights the tension of having a living prophet. How do we negotiate the space between God’s “weak and simple” servants and receiving the perfect word of God? The day the church was organized, the Lord pled with the church that they “receive” Joseph’s “word…as if from my own mouth, in all patience and faith” (21:5). Those close to Joseph knew him, they knew his limitations, yet Joseph was called to be a prophet and reveal God’s word. Balancing the prophet’s weakness, our own weakness, and the opportunity to receive the word of the Lord is our task. This will always require “patience and faith.” Just a few weeks ago, Elder M. Russell Ballard began his conference talk with the example of Jane Manning James—“a most remarkable disciple who faced difficult challenges.” Elder Ballard only alluded to just how much remaining faithful tried and tested Jane, “Sister James, like so many other Latter-day Saints, not only built Zion with blood, sweat, and tears but also sought the Lord’s blessings through living gospel principles as best she could while holding on in faith to Jesus Christ—the great healer to all who sincerely seek Him.” He quoted her last recorded testimony, that her faith was “as strong today, nay, it is if possible stronger than it was the day I was first baptized.” Her faith and discipleship within a church that did not always wholly accept her African heritage is “remarkable.” As we more closely examine Jane’s life, the necessity of “patience and faith” becomes clear. Jane and her family joined the church in Connecticut in 1841 and decided to gather with the Saints in Nauvoo. This did not go smoothly—they were barred from boarding a ship as did other members of their small branch. They chose to walk the 900 miles to Nauvoo. Jane led her family until their feet left bloody footprints in the snow. They prayed and their feet were miraculously healed. After a supremely difficult journey, Jane and her family arrived in Zion. Yet they were not welcomed into the body of the Saints, instead they were met with “hardship and trial and rebuff” until they met Joseph and Emma. The most recent example of canonized prophetic revelation came in 1978 (the forty-year anniversary comes next June) and ended a century-old policy barring those of African descent from participation in priesthood and temple blessings. The Gospel Topics essay on Race and the Priesthood  briefly outlines the history of a policy which directly affected Jane and other early African American members of the church. As the essay details, “[t]he justifications for this restriction echoed the widespread ideas about racial inferiority that had been used to argue for the legalization of black ‘servitude’ in the Territory of Utah.” Jane dealt with the effects of those ideas about racial inferiority throughout her life. Though she continued faithful and held a place of honor in Salt Lake society, she was barred from receiving the highest blessings of the temple in her lifetime. In Nauvoo, Emma offered that Jane could be sealed to the Smiths as a child. Not understanding, Jane rejected the offer. Later in Utah, in response to Jane’s petition she was sealed by proxy to Joseph and Emma, but as a servant. Jane did not accept this sealing. She would continue to petition multiple LDS church presidents to be able to receive temple ordinances. After attending a dinner with LDS Church President John Taylor in 1884, Jane felt emboldened to request her temple ordinances yet again. Using the same scriptural language that others used to deny her blessings, she asked “is there no blessing for me?” Her poignant request was left unfulfilled. It tested her and tried her patience, but it did not eradicate her faith. I believe Elder Ballard chose Jane’s example because of precisely this tension. As Jane, we need to be able to see the value in prophets and receiving the word of God even when their human limitations test us and try us. Believing that God speaks to prophets today is only good insofar as we listen. Elder Ballard’s talk involved a number of cautions and rebukes including: “We need to embrace God’s children compassionately and eliminate any prejudice, including racism, sexism, and nationalism. Let it be said that we truly believe the blessings of the restored gospel of Jesus Christ are for every child of God.” Our current political climate is such that I suspect many of us cheered at this direct condemnation of many troubling “isms.” But is that word just for other people? Here at MWP we are particularly attuned to sexism, but do we recognize our own failures as we trek to Zion? Sometimes we are so self-congratulatory of our own sainthood that we don’t recognize when we have been responsible for “hardship, trial, and rebuff” in the experience of another. Maybe we’re not nationalists marching with tiki torches, but perhaps we bristle or dismiss as another testifies of their “blood, sweat, and tears.” Perhaps we continue to perpetuate more benevolent vestiges of these pervasive racist ideals without self-examination. As Conference ended, Elder Anderson repeated Elder Ballard’s injunction in full to ensure it would not be dismissed. Receiving the word of the Lord requires that we take these words seriously as well as anything else that separates us as we trek to Zion. Read Jane’s autobiographical interview here .For resources to work to end racism: Shoulder to the Wheel, Latter-day Saints Working to End Racism and Become a Zion People

Gospel Doctrine lesson #43.    I have never been much of a super hero movie fan—all that beating people up, blowing stuff up, superheroes wearing ridiculous body armor, and that bad guy versus good guy stuff. That is, until I watched Wonder Woman . There was still a lot of beating people up, blowing stuff up, wearing ridiculous costumes, and that bad guy (and a gal) versus good guy (and lots of gals) stuff. I’ve seen the movie twice. As I watched the second time, I felt chills again as Diana, tired of hunkering down and knowing she has the skills to make a difference, removes her cloak and dressed in armor, she grabs her shield, and runs onto the battlefield, taking on enemy fire, allowing her comrades to get to the town, so that she and them can liberate the captured civilians. That scene has remained with me. Yes, Diana was blessed with superpowers, yet she didn’t let them remain dormant or merely rely on her talents. She trained hard, strengthening and refining her skills, and doing so purposefully and intensely. She knew she had a mission, a task to perform, and she was honest and brave, without guile and motivated by love, as she moved towards her goal of restoring peace and harmony and connectedness. War imagery is at the heart of the LDS narrative: there was a war in heaven and this war between good and evil rages on in this mortal life. We need to be armed with weapons and armor to protect us from evil. There are always casualties in this narrative. There are winners and losers; it’s our goal in this story of our lives to not fall prey to the fiery darts and arrows of our enemies. We must be the victors. Yet, I’ve been thinking more and more about the casualties, particularly times when I’m the wounded one. I recognize there is real evil in our world—institutions and people who want to gain power at others’ expense and cause harm and destruction and pain. I consider the identity of these enemies. Who might they be? I worry about mislabeling potential allies as enemies. I often consider how society seeks to build walls (figuratively and literally), wants us to retreat and isolate rather than vulnerably engage, wants us to attack rather than to sincerely listen and understand, wants us to view those around us as enemies rather than our allies. But perhaps, the better question: Is it I? Am I the enemy? Do I allow my (inner) voice to be a critic or friend? Does my language about others and myself reflect a desire to include? Does it edify and build connection? Do I hunker down in my comfortableness and privilege when I ought to engage? Do I use fear and shame as a weapon? Do I rely too much on my talents (aka my superpowers) without also doing the emotional work to forge bonds and alliances? Am I purposeful and brave in protecting the vulnerable regardless of the cost? Do I seek peace and harmony over a desire to be right? Am I motivated by love and a desire for connection? Do I wear armor in order to be an attacker or to be a warrior aimed at creating a world of safety, connection, and harmony for all—and not just the people I like or who look and think and do like me? In Brené Brown ’s latest book, Braving the Wilderness , she discusses the importance of connection. She writes, “…the more we’re willing to seek out moments of collective joy and show up for experiences of collective pain—for real, in person, not online—the more difficult it becomes to deny our human connection, even with people we may disagree with. Not only do moments of collective emotion remind us of what is possible between people, but they also remind us of what is true about the human spirit” (p. 129). That’s the type of superhero I want to be. I want to be a person who shows up for others, who doesn’t use her armor for solely her own protection, but who stands her ground for the collective good. This is the type of armor I want to wear. I want to be that wonder woman.