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God Looks Like Me

I am a young mother. My arms have been full of putti almost exclusively for the past several years. I’ve done the work of mothering full-time for nearly the last decade of my life, and…

I Dreamed of Oil

I don’t know who was sick. Maybe it was you. Let’s say it was.

You were sick and I was probably more worried than you (as per usual) but we brought our faith to our prayers and we pled that you would be healed. I anointed your head with oil. And I sealed that anointing and blessed you.

Salt That Lost Its Savor | Ryan Habermeyer, Salt Folk

Ryan Habermeyer lays down the gauntlet immediately in Salt Folk with “La Petite Mort,” a series of micro-vignettes about a professional elephant masturbator (she is never referred to by any other appellation than “the elephant…

Letter to the Editor: Reconciliation and Truth

Dear Editor, I respect Clyde Ford as a scholar and peacemaker, two roles we have in common. I also appreciate his challenges (“Reconsidering Reconciliation,” in Dialogue 57, no. 2 [Summer 2024], 1–3) to my article…

John Taylor on the “Dark Ages”

A foundational tenet and raison d’être of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is that a Great Apostasy occurred within the first few centuries of the early Christian era, resulting in the withdrawal…

Take My Hand

The shadows on the hills of afternoon 
Overflow the canyons and the cliffs. 
The sun is low, now gone. 
The labor now is done 
And gone the care.