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By Melonie Cannon

I am so excited to bring you a Segullah Poetry Podcast called “Words Fall In.” Why a podcast? Well, Segullah is about giving women a voice, so why not hear them too? Please be patient with the mixes on my first attempt at creating a podcast. If we get a positive response, perhaps we can …

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The Headline Read “BREXIT”

By Melonie Cannon

We had been talking about going to the UK this summer for a few months, but never made any effort about actually planning it until about six weeks ago, when my husband said, “I’m getting time off starting June 9th. Let’s actually go.” I was unprepared and so for three weeks I scrambled to buy …

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Snakes and Snails and Puppy Dog Tails

By Melonie Cannon

My husband came in to the office where I was again trying to help one of my high schoolers work on a project. “Christian fell asleep downstairs. I put him in his bed. I’m going to bed too. Goodnight.” He kissed me as quickly as the internal sigh behind those words and left the room. …

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Surprise: Body Trials

118HI’ve spent many years struggling with depression and anxiety tied to the ups and downs of my cyclical hormone levels. (The doctors think I’m allergic to myself—how lucky is that?) Sometimes I’m fine, sometimes I feel like I am so deep in the darkness I’ll never find my way out. It’s gotten more predictable in the last few years because I know what I’m looking for, both on the calendar and in my body, but maybe its denial; I’m still frequently surprised when I find myself yet again, in that hole.

I am not a person, who, if asked, would say I am opposed to surprises. I even like them most of the time. In general, I prefer a somewhat unpredictable life, filled with freedom and chances and unknown possibilities waiting to pop up and be embraced. I am relatively adept at curve balls. I wonder as I write this if I would say that before the last ten years of trial had taught me how little power I have over what happens in the universe.

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Surprised by Journaling (that’s a word, right?!)

By Julia Blue

My first journal entry of my life was written during class one day when I was in 5th grade. My great aunt owned a bookstore, and had given me a blank lined book, in which I recorded my displeasure over being cast as Miss Hannigan instead of Annie in our school play.  So began my life of …

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Surprise: I miss winter

By Shelah Miner

IMG_1006Usually, by the time March rolls around, I am ready to shed my skin. After months of running in subzero temps, my hide is literally chapped.

Usually, but the time March rolls around, I’m eager to welcome daylight savings time, because it means that the snow might finally melt.

Usually, by the time March rolls around, I’m hoping that the grass might make an appearance before school gets out, that I might be able to cross the back yard on the way to the chicken coop without slipping and sliding, that I might not have to buy another case of handwarmers from Costco.

I know that those of you in the East and South have been dumped on this winter. I’ve watched the news and seen all of your photos on Instagram. I know most of you are still shivering in your Uggs. But here in the west, the daffodils are in bloom, my skin is nice and soft, and my three-year-old begged to turn on the sprinkler this afternoon.

I hate it. Hate, hate, hate it.

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Surprise! It’s a TUNNEL!!!!

By Melonie Cannon

Rosalyn Eves recently posted a short video to her facebook of the reactions of babies going through tunnels. At first, they are comfortable in their carseats reclining in the daylight – perhaps gazing out a window, looking at their parents, distracted, or even crying. The car they are riding in enters a tunnel and the …

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Surprise: you can go on a mission earlier, but you might be judged if you don’t

By Michelle Lehnardt

EI3C7208copy_zpsbd0bc077In a conversation with two friends, one mother excitedly described the girl her 23 year old son was currently dating– accomplished, lovely, the most incredible testimony… “But,” the other woman interrupted, “she didn’t serve a mission, did she?”

“No,” my friend answered, “she prayed about the decision many times but never felt like it was right for her.”

“I’m not saying she’s not a nice girl,” the friend replied, “but she’d be much more impressive if she’d served a mission.”

I’m fairly sure steam erupted from my ears; I know my face flushed with heat as I entered the conversation, but I tried to measure my words,  “You’re not serious?  Prophets instruct our girls to rely on personal revelation. I’m proud of every girl who serves and every girl who follows a prompting to follow a different path.”

“But you have to admit,” she persisted, “these returned missionaries will make much better wives and mothers. They’ll be more prepared to serve in the church.”

“You know I didn’t go on a mission.” I reminded her.

“Sure. But times were different then. With the age change, no girl has an excuse not to serve.”

And that was the moment I knew had to walk away before I exploded in anger.


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