“Originally called “Leadership Week,” Campus Education Week was first held in 1922. The focus of that first conference was on LDS Church leadership training. Since that time, the focus has broadened, adding classes for every aspect of life, as well as classes specifically for the youth.”

Read more in this Deseret News article about Campus Education Week.

I agree with C.S. Lewis. Prayer does not change God, it changes me. I know that the Lord is unchangeable and is constant and constantly wanting to hear and communicate with us. He is always there listening and loving. When I pray, even though I know Heavenly Father already knows what I need, I am grateful for the opportunity to humble myself and ask anyway. When I speak to my Heavenly Father I feel a peace and comfort knowing that He is listening and will answer my prayers in His own due time and way. I am humbled to know that with all of the people and events going on in the world, He knows me personally and takes the time to listen to me, everytime I pray. He does not put me on hold, He does not let the machine pick up and return my call later, He is always there, always listening and always communicating. I know that as I keep myself in the right frame of mind, I will hear and feel and know the answers to my prayers and what it is He would have me do to further is work here on earth.

Editor’s note: Below, Paradox shares the story of her conversion to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. As she has pondered the Joseph Smith story, she has found parallels that were meaningful to her. She includes quotes (in italics) which are verses from Joseph Smith History.

“It seems as though the adversary was aware, at a very early period of my life, that I was destined to prove a disturber and an annoyer of his kingdom…”

I cannot say for sure when my conversion began. For as far back as I can remember, I have believed in God. My parents didn’t make much of an effort to teach me this, nor did they even know enough about my feelings to encourage them. But from my earliest memories, I remember talking to God about many things in my life. I remember times when I would lay in my bed and just talk to Him, and those conversations were sometimes easy and comfortable. Other times, I would be scared, and my prayers were important to my safety, even at a young age.

Who God was, or where He was—whether He was just on the other side of the ceiling, or clear on the other side of the universe—didn’t matter much to me then. The one thing I knew for certain, from all of those experiences, was that He was listening. I may have wondered just how much He was doing for me personally, but I knew He heard every word of what I said to Him.

Somewhere in the years that followed, I stopped praying. My parents separated, and life was finally quiet. I drew closer to my mother—and that was what I wanted more than anything else. She had always seemed so angry and distant from me, but being with her and seeing her be a single parent left a permanent impression on me. I saw strength in her that grew as we—my mother, my little sister, and I—tried to heal from much of the hardship we had known in life.

Eventually that desire for healing brought me back to the familiar desire to know God, and to learn for myself what I truly believed.

“I often said to myself: What is to be done? Who of all these parties are right; or, are they all wrong together?”

I was 14 when I started going to church with my friend Alyssa. As I attended their meetings, I wondered if perhaps I was doing something wrong. I was surrounded by people who could raise their arms in praise and they felt something by being in church. I just stood there feeling foolish, wondering why God wasn’t reaching my reaching the way the pastors said He would.

I was 15 when I met my first Mormon family. It was easy to see they were different—special. Their sons treated me with dignity and respect I had not known from many young men, and within a few short months they invited me to a Mutual [youth] activity. This activity was based on the Three Kingdoms doctrine—complete with Judgment Bar—and it seemed so bizarre to me at the time. I tried to resist what I was hearing, to continue being an impartial observer. I felt I didn’t know enough to make any informed decisions yet, but in my heart it felt wrong to resist the messages I was hearing. That frightened me. I didn’t feel ready, and my friends certainly had not pushed me—but my feelings were bringing me to conclusions I wasn’t ready to face, and realities I couldn’t yet understand.

I spoke to my pastor about what I had experienced, and he wasn’t pleased. But even when he warned me to stay away from the Mormons, everything in my being resisted that warning. I wanted an explanation, not the suggestion to ignore what was becoming harder and harder to deny. And the accusations he made of Mormons not being Christian—mostly based on their view of the Godhead—didn’t account for how Christian they looked to me, the warmth I felt in their presence, and the light I could see in their eyes.

“Never did any passage of scripture come with more power to the heart of man than this did at this time to mine.”

It was in this season of my life that the first spark of my faith ignited. I was looking up some scriptures in the Bible my youth pastor had given me, when I got the distinct impression, an irrepressible feeling to search through the scriptures for… I wasn’t sure what. I hadn’t read the Bible since I was a little girl with my first children’s Bible, and I had never read anything past Exodus before.

But this was different. Somewhere in those hundreds of pages was a message I needed to find, and I couldn’t stop until I found it. I hadn’t felt anything this powerful before. It was something I couldn’t flee from, ignore, or deny.

Eventually I ended up in Psalms at a scripture Alyssa had given me. It was a beautiful verse, but it wasn’t mine. I wanted the verse that would mean something to me, something I could hold onto in my heart the way my all of my Christian friends did—to have what my Mormon friends called a testimony. I could feel I was so very close, and I wandered around in those chapters, not really reading—until I came to Psalm 27.

“…when my father and my mother forsake me, then the Lord will take me up.”

My eyes stood transfixed on that verse. I read it over and over again.

Then I wept.

It was the first sign I’d had since I was a child that God could hear me. He was real, and He was watching over me. He wasn’t ashamed of me because of my family, or the wrong things that I had done in my life. He had not forgotten me, and He promised me then that He never would. I could feel for myself that God loved me, and that I could love Him in return.

But as much as I had always wanted that experience—prayed for it and sought it out—it wasn’t enough. Somehow, I knew I needed more.

“I at length came to the determination to ‘ask of God,’ concluding that if he gave wisdom to them that lacked wisdom, and would give liberally, and not upbraid, I might venture.”

This personal experience with God, as reassuring as it was that I was on the right track, did not solve my problem. I needed to know what to do about a church—if God even cared one way or the other about what church I went to.

If I was to stay with my Baptist friends, hoping only for rare and fleeting glances of God instead of the powerful and genuine interaction with divinity that I craved, I wanted God Himself to tell me that.

If I was to join with my Mormon friends, as I was beginning to suspect I should, I needed more than suspicion to help me in that choice. I could sense already the great personal sacrifices being a Mormon would require from me. Mormons had a lot of rules, and I didn’t like rules. But the things they told me made so much sense, and I learned more about God in the few brief times I shared with them than I did after a year in another church.

The longer things went on, the more obvious it became to me that the time for a decision was coming, and I would have to make the first step alone.

“I saw a pillar of light exactly over my head, above the brightness of the sun, which descended gradually until it fell upon me…”

It was January 22nd the first time I went to my first Sacrament meeting.

From the moment I stepped into the chapel, I could feel a difference all around me. It was warm and safe, comfortable and quiet. I remember smiling brightly and thinking to myself it feels so good in here.

I thought about that for several minutes, wondering what it was I felt. It was the peace I craved to find in a church that goes beyond people sitting together quietly in a room. It was something completely outside of myself, powerful and heartfelt. Genuine.

I could feel for myself that God was there. And it felt as if I were coming home for the very first time.

By the end of the three hours, I wanted to stay longer. I wanted to hear more. Having finally tasted of the Bread of Life, I hungered for it like I’d never wanted anything before in my life. Having tasted the sweetness of that Living Water, I would soon decide I didn’t want to live without it.

A week later after my second time attending church, I found myself thinking about being baptized. As if by invitation, Satan’s opposition to that decision began, and I disappeared from church for about two months. But as I wandered down familiar but forbidden roads, I knew I was about to walk away from the best thing that had ever happened to me.

“… It no sooner appeared than I found myself delivered from the enemy which held me bound.”

God was watching over me as I struggled to understand and find my way, this much I know. When the time was right, I began focusing on the baptism I wanted more than ever, and I set to work to make it happen.

From April until August, I took discussions from the ward [congregation] mission leaders because our branch had no full-time missionaries. I learned about the promise I was preparing to make, the lifestyle I had to live to honor that promise, and to make changes to my behavior that would invite the Spirit of God into my life. I began to see that God had the power to change me, to make me better, and to bring me a greater peace and abiding joy than I had ever known before.

At the very end of the summer, I was baptized and confirmed a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Since then, it has become the source of personal and spiritual triumph that I could never have obtained in any other way. My relationship with my Heavenly Father and my Savior Jesus Christ is wonderful. I tell my Father everything, and I cannot say enough about how wonderful Jesus Christ has been to me. He has healed the wounds that no one else could even touch. He has made my life rich through the mercies of His atonement, washing away my sins so I do not carry burdens beyond my strength to bear. I love Them both so very much; more deeply than I could ever hope to put into words.

I spend my days now keeping the commandments of God to show Him I love Him—going to church, paying a full tithe, attending the temple, and obeying the counsel of the prophets. I enjoy doing family history work, and performing the ordinances that will reunite my family and bring us great joy in the eternity I long so very much to see.

I know that heaven is real by the same power I’ve always known that God is real—by the Holy Spirit of the Lord who reveals all things divine to anyone who asks in faith, believing they shall receive an answer.

And dear to me is the Prophet Joseph Smith, who showed me that I can ask of God and receive answers to my prayers. I respect him and love his dearly for the sacrifices he made for this Church, for they are many, and I believe in the goodness of his life. I believe he was a prophet and he truly restored the Church of Jesus Christ to the earth. I believe his life because it has been my privilege to know his life, and I can no more deny what happened to Joseph Smith than I could deny what happened to me.

I say these things in the name of Jesus Christ. AMEN.

“Probably Mrs. Parkin.”

“Why is she Sister Parkin at church and Mrs. Parkin at the school?”

“At church, we call everyone Brother or Sister so-and-so because it is a reminder of the relationships we have with one another. We believe that all people on the earth are children of our Heavenly Father and so by calling each other “Sister” or “Brother” we are reminded of our duty to love one another. But not everyone is a member of our church, and a lot of people do not believe the same things we do, so referring to Sister Parkin as Mrs. Parkin at school is appropriate.”

“OK.”

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This is a question my first grader asked me last year and I bet others have wondered the same. So, why do Mormons refer to each other as Sister and Brother? Here are some of my thoughts:

First, it can strengthen in our minds our doctrine of a loving Father in Heaven who is the literal spirit Parent of every person who has lived on the earth. Understanding that we are all children of a loving Heavenly Father increases my desire to have compassion toward my fellow beings. (Or siblings as the case may be.)

Second, it is not unlike calling a woman “Mrs. __________,” or “Miss ________,” or “Ma’am” and calling a man “Mr. __________” or “Sir.” Many Mormons teach their children in particular to refer to older members of their congregation as “Brother” and “Sister” as a way to show respect. (For me, it’s also particularly handy when I have brain lapses and have forgotten someone’s first name!)

Friends will typically refer to each other by their first names when speaking to each other in person, over the phone or at church.

Third, this way of addressing each other can solidify in our hearts the covenants we have made at baptism when we became members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. Through covenants we become children of Jesus Christ and promise to always remember him. We promise to mourn with those that mourn, comfort those who stand in need of comfort, to keep His commandments and to stay clean and pure. Essentially we promise to be Christians. By becoming a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints we join the body of Christ as taught by Paul in 1 Corinthians 12

2 For as the body is one, and hath many members, and all the members of that one body, being many, are one body: so also is Christ.
14 For the body is not one member, but many.
21 And the eye cannot say unto the hand, I have no need of thee: nor again the head to the feet, I have no need of you.
27 Now ye are the body of Christ, and members in particular.

A similar sentiment is shared by Paul in Ephesians 2:

19 Now therefore ye are no more strangers and foreigners, but fellow citizens with the saints, and of the household of God;

By referring to one another as “Brother” or “Sister” we remind ourselves of the importance each of us have in doing the Lord’s work. Not one member of the body of Christ is more important than another, and we must all be focused on the Lord to function properly. This can help foster humility. Who am I to feel superior to another when God loves all of His children the same?

I find the familial relationships within the Church extremely satisfying. I have served and been served by the members of my congregation without the expectation of pay, accolades, or excessive thanks. The workings of the Church mirror that of the family. Within the Church there are shared responsibilities (callings), family gatherings (ward parties), worship gatherings (sacrament meetings), family prayer (this happens every time we meet together), and huge family projects (service projects). We also try to be there for one another, pray for one another, help and serve one another. Together we grow and accept one another’s faults. There is room for tragedies and jealousies, disasters and pain, just like there is in any family. But together, we make a mighty fine whole. I have always appreciated the tradition of referring to fellow members of the Church as “Brother” or “Sister” — I love it when I am referred to as “Sister W.”

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To read more about how Mormons view their membership in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints please read the following:

Belonging: A View of Membership by Jeffery R. Holland

My daughter Hannah has been taking piano lessons for about a year and a half now….

Every weekday, she comes home from school, plops herself down on the bench and tries her hardest to play each assigned song “the right way.”  Her words, not mine.

Where to begin?

First I could tell you that she’s a wife of a scientist, a mother of two girls, a college graduate (statistics was her field — yes, they are smart ones in their house). She serves as the secretary of the Relief Society in her ward congregation. But I don’t have photos for all of that. So I’ll tell you that…

…She’s a whiz in the kitchen. I’m the lucky taste tester for many of her creations. Here, she is making freezer jam. YUM.

Oh, I almost forgot. When I took these jam-making pictures, she sent me this disclaimer to include:

I do not make jam because it is on the “Righteous Mommy Checklist.” I make it because store-bought jams taste “burnt.” Freezer jam to me is fresh strawberries in late January. When Michelle posts my pictures also take note of the REALITY in the background – there is a mess at my house.  I was making jam – not being June Cleaver – there were no pumps or pearls!

(I guess I don’t need to say that she has a sense of humor — and is not afraid to be human! Nor does she do things for pretense. She does things that for her make sense.)

…She’s smart (ah, yes, I already said that), organized, and resourceful. She not only has a great food storage (the story of how she got going on food storage will have to wait for another day, but it’s a faith-promoting one), but…

…She also uses it. (Again, she will often use it to bless others, like me. Here is the bread she made for us a while back for General Conference weekend, sharing their family tradition of “General Conference Bread” with us. (Her hummus is also to die for. And I’ll need to ask her if I can share her granola recipe. More YUM.)

I love how she has a vision for things and makes things happen. I wish I had a photo of her with her tool belt on…she’s very handy and can fix anything. She frequents hardware stores and other places where she can get different materials to improve her home, whether that means adding light to a room or sawing wood to create storage shelves or taking metal strips and hooks and turning them into a wall decoration.

…She paints. Also tucked away for another day are photos of more of her paintings. She likes watercolor in particular.

She quilts. She pieced this together from a pattern in her head.

This next painting represents something else she is working on right now — her family history. This painting is from a photo of her grandfather on his farm. She’s working on a book that includes information, photos, and patriarchal blessings of her ancestors. She’s doing this as a gift to her children and her extended family. I’ve really enjoyed hearing about the progress that she is making on this project.

…And she serves others. I’ve been the recipient of her kindness more times than I can count. (But I don’t have to, because she doesn’t keep score. Yet another reason I appreciate her.)

Not too long ago, while a friend of ours was dying of cancer, she helped put together a quilt, and — again creating something with mostly just a pattern in her head — made this awesome card holder so our friend could read notes from people who cared about her.

(This is Pauline with our friend who recently passed away.)

Pauline is the kind of person who does things quietly, not wanting praise or pats on the back. So I know this post is going to make her squirm a little. She only let me take these photos and post them here because she knows how important sharing about the lives of Mormon women is to me.

I hope she also knows how important she is to me. Thanks, friend, for what you do and are.

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In the comments, tell us about a friend who has made a difference in your life.

And, if you know a Mormon woman you’d like to let us get to know, please let us know! We’re at gmail, username ‘mormonwoman’

An article about Elder David Bednar by Elder Henry B. Eyring that I read recently gives some specific insights into how God helps people accomplish difficult things. Elder Eyring quotes Michael, Elder Bednar’s son:

“It seems that faith has driven out fear in my dad. He is always optimistic. No matter what goes wrong, he always says, ‘Things will work out.’ When it was hard for me during my mission, he told me to work hard and success would come. And he told me when the success came to remember that God gave it and that I did not earn it.”

This quote illustrates how faith drives out fear. When I have faith and a belief in God my life is  impacted positively by hope. Especially because I believe in a God that is omnipotent and loving towards us, his children. ‘Things will work out’ because I believe that even difficult things can result in good. It creates a dedication that is inspired and optimistic. Elder Bednar later says, “Because we know who is in charge and that we are not alone… I am not scared.” When I am truly living what I believe and feel close to God I’m not scared either.

The last part of the quote points out a facet of giving glory to God, “..when the success came to remember that God gave it and that I did not earn it.” Believing in a God that is creator of all, I attribute all that I physically have as given to me by God. I was born helpless and unable to work. Only because God gave me life within the context of a family was I able to grow to the point that I can care for myself and others. God has placed me where I am through birth and blessings. I can work hard and do good, but without his instruction on what is worth working for and how best to accomplish it, the work would result in little or nothing.

In the article, another son was quoted, describing Elder Bednar:

“’Since I was little, Dad taught me to set goals and exercise faith.’ Jeff also says: ‘I want people to know that he is an ordinary man who can do extraordinary things because of the strength of the Lord.’”

Setting goals and exercising the type of faith I mentioned earlier are keys to moving forward. People who believe in religion usually also believe that our lives have purpose. Usually that purpose includes improvement of the individual. In church I have been taught how to improve my life through setting goals, having standards and working hard to achieve. Without a belief in God and the ability for humans to improve, I would flail miserably in life, not understanding my potential and struggling without direction.

“Elder Bednar remembers: ‘During my training before my mission, we went to the solemn assembly room in the Salt Lake Temple. President Harold B. Lee was there to answer questions from about 300 missionaries. He stood there in his white suit, holding his white scriptures. He answered every question from the scriptures, or he said, ‘I don’t know.’ I sat there and thought that I would never be able to know the scriptures the way he did, but my objective became to use the scriptures in my teaching the way that I saw President Harold B. Lee do it. That desire is the genesis of all my scripture study.’”

Scripture study is something that is important to Christians. Some would say that it’s brainwashing on a daily basis to study scriptures every day. I would respond that the best way to keep myself focused on my goals is to have a daily reminder of what I want to accomplish and why. Prayer has a similar effect on my life.

Another benefit of scripture study and prayer is in keeping people humble. If on a daily basis I recognize that I need instruction and help, I am recognizing my own lack, my need to depend on something greater than myself. In work situations I see that people who are humble are more willing to listen to other’s ideas, they are not as easily threatened or offended, and are willing to do whatever is asked of them. These are qualities of a great employee and/or leader who accomplishes great things by working well with people.

These are just a few reasons that religious persons may give thanks and glory to God. I’m sure if you asked each person individually why they thank God they would have very specific and personal examples to share. God is my constant counselor so it is hard to divide those things in my life that have happened because of my own efforts and which have come about because of God. He is a part of all that I do, it really is indivisible.  Except when I really mess up, I’ll claim that for myself!

This portrait ends up being a tribute to a woman who recently passed away at the age of 92.

She crossed my path only briefly, but left an impression on me in that brief time. I took this picture, hoping to sit down and talk to her to get to know her better.

That never happened, but I wanted to share a little of what I do know about her.

She had 11 children, and was a foster parent to other children as well.

She experienced hard trials in her life, including losing a son in the Vietnam War, and being widowed — twice.

She was very service-oriented. She once talked about the many committees she was on, but I can’t remember them all. She kept a pace that would wear out the youngest and healthiest of us all!

She loved to dance, and was apparently dancing up until a couple of months before she died.

She loved her family so much. She often shared the latest happy news in the lives of her family. She had a running count on the rapid growth of her family, regularly sharing when another great-grandchild (or great-great grandchild) was born. (I wish I could remember how many she had at the last report.) You could feel the joy that her posterity brought her.

I knew her as a woman with a simple and strong faith. The more I heard her share from her life and heart, the more I realized how much her faith had been an anchor through very difficult times. And the more I admired her.

I feel honored I had the chance to know Pearl, and I offer my condolences to her family as they mourn her passing. But I imagine they are also rejoicing in a life well lived.

And I can’t help but imagine her dancing with joy at the reunions she is experiencing with loved ones who preceded her in death. I know she was looking forward to those reunions.

Rest in peace, Pearl. Thank you for your example of goodness, faith, love, and service to others.

If you are wondering what a temple dedication is like, this personal account about the Gila Valley Arizona Temple dedication is a moving summary of what temple dedications mean to Mormons, and what it’s like to attend a dedication.

You can also read this Mormon Women article for more information: What happens at a Mormon temple dedication?

Prior to the dedication, an open house was held, where the public was able to walk through the temple and learn more about what temples mean to Mormons. (For more information on this topic, see our index entry on Mormon temples.)

The following video was from a press tour of the temple in April and includes photos from the inside of the temple. It also includes a brief interview with Elder William R. Walker of the Church’s First Quorum of the Seventy.

The youth in the area also held a cultural celebration with dance and music.

For a series of photos of the event, see this LDS Church News article:

Youth celebration depicts cultural history of Eastern Arizona

More about the youth celebration:

Youths Celebrate Gila Valley Temple in Arizona

More photos of the temple can be found in the following video:

Read more about Mormon temples in the following Mormon Women articles:

Chapels and Temples: Glimpses inside each and how they differ

What does the inside of the Oquirrh Mountain temple look like?

What the temple means to Mormons?

What does the inside of a Mormon temple look like?

The connection between LDS temple worship and ancient (Old Testament) ordinances

What can you tell me about Mormon temples?

Motherhood really is a magnificent and spectacular thing and truly is the “holiest” of any mortal pursuit I can imagine.  I am in marvel daily as I am continually pushed to the edge of my abilities as a mother and human being… or so it seems. What I stand in awe with, is the remarkable abundant love and capacity of my own mother who has taught me about the brilliance of being a mother. Self sacrificing, meek, gentle, loving, unconditional,  and an acute awareness as to the sanctity of being a mother, she sparkles from the inside out, that is what creates the magic that only a mother genuinely knows and understands. For me, becoming a mother created an enhanced spirituality that is impossible to articulate but easily desirable by my spirit.  There is nothing as consuming or life-altering than being a mother even in my most taxed days. I love my mother and I love motherhood and am completely overcome with gratitude to my Heavenly Father for the exquisite blessings of both.

I love what sister Margaret D. Nadauld says about motherhood

“Our outward appearance is a reflection of what we are on the inside. Our lives reflect that for which we seek. …You can recognize women who are grateful to be a daughter of God by their attitude. They know that the errand of angels is given to women, and they desire to be on God’s errand to love His children and minister to them, to teach them the doctrines of salvation, to call them to repentance, to save them in perilous circumstances, to guide them in the performance of His work, to deliver His messages…You can recognize women who are grateful to be a daughter of God by their reverence for motherhood,… Daughters of God know that it is the nurturing nature of women that can bring everlasting blessings, and they live to cultivate this divine attribute. Surely when a woman reverences motherhood, her children will arise up and call her blessed (see Prov. 31:28) “The Joy of Womanhood,” Ensign, Nov 2000, 14–16

That quote sings to me and reminds me of the responsibility’s I have qualified for as a mother to 5 beloved children. “Reverence” is a perfect word in describing the attributes a mother should bestow. Below are a few other quotes worth mentioning. I hope all you mothers and daughters of mothers, take the opportunity to thank our Heavenly Father for the joyful blessing of mothers and for all the many wonderful women (friend, sister, neighbor, teacher etc.) in our lives that have mirrored radiantly the Christlike attributes of mothers.

“I remember my mother’s prayers and they have always followed me. They have clung to me all my life.”~Abraham Lincoln

“All that I am, or hope to be, I owe to my angel mother.” – Abraham Lincoln