Grandma’s Desk: A Mingled Artifact of Family and Church History

By Teresa Bruce

My grandmother’s secretary desk moved into my home last week. An heirloom of both classic and outdated beauty, its story has made me wonder for as long as I can recall. One of Grandma Leone’s beaux presented the fold-down desk to her as a gift in the early 1930s. When I learned this origin as …

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Home Centered Church– We’ve Got This!

By Michelle Lehnardt

One Sunday, more than a decade ago, my friend Jane shared her struggle with family scripture study with our Relief Society, We tried a hundred different methods over a dozen years and nothing seemed to stick. We pulled the kids out of bed at 5:30 a.m., we tried bedtime scripture study, dinnertime, breakfast. Sometimes I …

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Sundays Away

By Teresa Bruce

When I Was a Child Growing up, I went to church weekly except during bouts of strep throat or flu. Even during rare family vacation travels, we packed Sunday clothes and shoes no matter our destination. High School Diplomacy The day before my first high school model U. N. conference, vague uneasiness coalesced into realization: …

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Can I Get A Witness?

By Leslie Graff

I hear voices, not regular voices per se, but a gospel choir. They sing to me in my head. They wear blue satin robes with white collars and are quite soulful. At various times throughout the day I hear…

“Can I get a witness, wit-ness
Can I get a witness, wit-ness”

They are clapping and swaying very enthusiastically. My children join in with me and my choir and we jive, clap, and sing in the kitchen often during dinner preparations. So either I have some deep unfulfilled need for affirmation, or maybe this is spiritual call for me to witness to others. Whatever the reason, the singers are there.

Why a gospel choir? Not exactly sure. It certainly does not come from the choir of my religious heritage, the good old Mormon Tabernacle Choir. MoTab doesn’t break into quite such rhythmic,  exultant jubilee (although they are known to wear blue).

Maybe it’s because a few years back I served in an inner city branch of our church. The best thing was when you gave a talk, the branch president would gently nod his head in approval as you were talking (or at least if you weren’t preaching any false doctrine). If you said something good you would get an audible “mm-hmm” as you spoke. It was very affirming. If the congregation liked your words, well sister, you got especially loud “Amen” at the end. I loved the way others truly witnessed with you.

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