Nostalgia

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Some Definitions of Gratitude

On our ride home from my brother’s house last Easter Sunday, having spent a few hours basking in our blessings of atonement and progeny, we pass an accident on the interstate. I say accident, though…

No Country for Nostalgia | Todd Robert Petersen, Picnic in the Ruins

Even in the modesty of its title, Picnic in the Ruins is a deceptively ambitious novel. At once wry and gentle, its depiction of the various lives and stories that become snarled up in a…

Mischief and Ethnography Keith Norman. BUC: A Boy among the Saints

BUC: A Boy among the Saints spans a “year in the life of an unregenerate 10 year old”—the endearing young rascal Wilford Bushman. Wilf, like most in his rural Utah community of Anti-Nephi-Lehi, is “BUC”—“born…

A Mormon Boy Meets a King

Pioneer Day

Sweater

From the Pulpit: My Mother’s Eclipse

The Provo Tabernacle and Interfaith Collaboration

Ice Fishing

“Why you want to go out and sit all day on the ice just to catch a fish, I’ll never know. Ed, you’re going to freeze to death one of these days, or catch pneumonia.” …

Home Again: Part Three of Immortal for Quite Some Time

I know the standard plot lines, the ones that move from desire to fulfillment, or from desire to fulfillment to tragedy. As this story follows its meanders I don’t find myself to be a satisfied, fulfilled member of my church, but neither is mine the story of a brave individual triumphantly separating himself from an abusive religion. I live chapters of each of these stories. But always intermediary chapters, it seems, never the climactic ones. Absent is the single seductive strand that engages and satisfies—and falsifies. What will it mean to finish this manuscript? To finish writing about my brother? To finish thinking about him? To abandon him again? To jettison this means of access to our past and present experience? 

Ode to Joy!

Grass Whistles

Some Definitions of Gratitude

On our ride home from my brother’s house last Easter Sunday, having spent a few hours basking in our blessings of atonement and progeny, we pass an accident on the interstate. I say accident, though…

No Country for Nostalgia | Todd Robert Petersen, Picnic in the Ruins

Even in the modesty of its title, Picnic in the Ruins is a deceptively ambitious novel. At once wry and gentle, its depiction of the various lives and stories that become snarled up in a…

Mischief and Ethnography Keith Norman. BUC: A Boy among the Saints

BUC: A Boy among the Saints spans a “year in the life of an unregenerate 10 year old”—the endearing young rascal Wilford Bushman. Wilf, like most in his rural Utah community of Anti-Nephi-Lehi, is “BUC”—“born…

A Mormon Boy Meets a King

Pioneer Day

Sweater

From the Pulpit: My Mother’s Eclipse

The Provo Tabernacle and Interfaith Collaboration

Ice Fishing

“Why you want to go out and sit all day on the ice just to catch a fish, I’ll never know. Ed, you’re going to freeze to death one of these days, or catch pneumonia.” …

Home Again: Part Three of Immortal for Quite Some Time

I know the standard plot lines, the ones that move from desire to fulfillment, or from desire to fulfillment to tragedy. As this story follows its meanders I don’t find myself to be a satisfied, fulfilled member of my church, but neither is mine the story of a brave individual triumphantly separating himself from an abusive religion. I live chapters of each of these stories. But always intermediary chapters, it seems, never the climactic ones. Absent is the single seductive strand that engages and satisfies—and falsifies. What will it mean to finish this manuscript? To finish writing about my brother? To finish thinking about him? To abandon him again? To jettison this means of access to our past and present experience? 

Ode to Joy!

Grass Whistles