I am moving across the country in two weeks, so June, my best friend of 30 years, drove 300 miles to visit me this week. She took two unpaid vacation days to do it. We had to pack in quite a lot of memorable activity and talk in just a short day and a half, so we headed up the Columbia River Gorge to get started. The first day’s plan was: 1) hike, 2) soak in the mineral water at Carson Hot Springs, 3) eat at Skamania Lodge, 4) sit in the adirondack chairs at Skamania and talk till the moon came up over the gorge. Continue reading
One summer evening, my mission companion and I were in the plaza near our apartment attempting to do some street contacting. A woman approached us and asked “do you think you can you help me?” I looked up at her and noticed that she had a black eye, a bandaged nose, and bruises down one arm. A man was holding her by the elbow, glowering at both of us. My heart sank–I hoped she had recently been in a car accident, but feared that something much worse was going on. I had no idea how I should respond, especially as a missionary in a foreign country working in a language and culture that weren’t my own. My companion and I briefly talked with the woman and exchanged phone numbers with her before the man guided her away and she disappeared into the crowd. When we tried the phone number she had given us, we found that it had been disconnected. This woman and her face still pop up in my mind from time to time, and fifteen years later I wonder if there really was anything I could have done to help her.
A few weeks ago, By Common Consent published a post about the recent Ray Rice domestic violence scandal, asking what we can do about domestic violence and abuse within our Church congregations. Some who commented expressed surprise that the author of the post implied that every ward of the Church has at least one “Ray Rice” in it; I agree that this particular extrapolation of statistics may not be fully correct and hope that there isn’t someone in every ward who regularly beats their spouse into unconsciousness. However, I’ve also seen enough situations to know that abuse takes many forms and Church members are not immune. Think about the following scenarios for a moment: Continue reading
I grew up Protestant and was taught a somewhat different view of Jesus than the one most Mormons hold. Though I eventually decided Protestant doctrine was too full of holes to feed my spirit adequately, on this point about Jesus, I think they have it right. We talk a lot in the LDS church about “coming to Christ” and fully recognize His role as our Savior, but it has always puzzled me that many Mormons seem wary of phrases like “born again” or “baptized by fire” or “having a personal relationship with Jesus Christ” even though our scriptures are full of such phrases and it is clear Mormon doctrine that we must be born again to truly belong to Christ. Continue reading
I don’t pay any attention to football, college or otherwise, and hadn’t heard of Manti Te’o until his “fake girlfriend” story hit the news last year. I found his story oddly fascinating, and a quick internet search turned up a number of articles about similar online scams. The interesting thing to me is that so many people lie on the internet for no other reason than boredom, loneliness, and curiosity about how other people will react to them. There usually isn’t any kind of tangible physical gain for the perpetrators, and often there isn’t a tangible loss for the victims. However, it almost seems worse to me to be stealing things like trust and intimacy, rather than money, from people.
“Well, the break up takes place in parts. The brain, the heart, the body, mutual things, shared things. The mind leaves but the heart is still there. The heart has left but the body wants to stay. The body leaves but the things are still at the apartment. You must come back. You move everything out of the apartment. You must come back. You move everything out of the apartment but the mind stays behind. Memory lingers in the place. Seven years later, perhaps seven years later, it doesn’t matter anymore. Perhaps it takes longer. Perhaps it never ends.”
– Paula from Fefu and her Friends by Maria Irene Fornes
One of the most interesting plays I ever performed in was Fefu and her Friends. It’s a feminist play that’s pretty prickly around the edges. The characters (all female) muse on different topics: relationships, evil, genitals, charity skits, etc. I found it confusing, yet exhilarating at the same time, with poetic passages that have stuck with me long after the performance.
The quote above is given by the character, Paula, speaking of human connections and the process of breaking up. It’s a convoluted monologue, but the statements resonate. I’ve never had a clean break up—the separation occurs in stages, often erratically, with one part of the psyche alternately hanging on, and then letting go when another part kicks in. Continue reading