DiaBLOGue

Eternal Love

Like many baby-boomers, philosopher Roger Scruton as a young man accepted the sexual standards of his generation, eschewing marriage in favor of “experiments” with less binding relationships. Scruton finally did marry when he found that his “experiment had turned into a commitment instead,” but the marriage lasted only a few years. Reflecting on his painful and all-too-common experience, Scruton wrote, “Our years of cohabitation had disenchanted our first love, while offering no second love in place of it.”

How My Mission Saved My Membership

In 1991 I almost joined the Peace Corps. I graduated from college that year with the coveted Peace Corps job offer just as I had hoped for years. The glitch in my plan, however, was…

We Were Not Consulted

We couldn’t say 
            the yes that would loosen 
                        our grip, tutoring us 
            in doing without. 
Some things were simply snatched away. 

Why I Didn’t Serve a Mission

I turned 21 the summer of 1989 before my junior year at BYU. The missionary I’d written to had come home, and we had gone our separate ways. I started fall semester with no boyfriend,…

The Right Place

Not one has made it. 
Trout launch out of Snake Creek, 
flipping through the air, 
vaulting up the waterfall, 

Junior Companion

Mormon missionaries in Taiwan weren’t hard to spot, not only because of those white shirts and name tags. First of all, they were usually of European descent, and those white faces became luridly conspicuous among…

Night Work Near Escalante

After dawn we hike through fine rain, 
but the light is good, only slight 
cellophane distortion as we look through 
at trees and stream, box canyon walls 

Sisterhaters

I am, and probably always will be, a sisterhater. In fact, many church members are sisterhaters without even realizing it. A sisterhater is, sim ply put, someone who can’t abide sister missionaries.  As a sister…

You Owe Me

There’s a foul wind blowing in from ten o’clock
Saying, You owe me. I check my balance books,
And they don’t look off, but the wind insists,
You owe me. What? I ask. You abandoned me. 

Missions and the Rhetoric of Male Motivation

I couldn’t sleep. I sat at the open window and watched the occasional person walk by. The sidewalk glowed florescent orange from the street lamp above. It was quiet in Montreal’s university district, and everyone…