Contents

Articles/Essays

On God’s Grace



My first inklings of the possibilities of God’s grace in my life came through two personal experiences. The first occurred during a family Christmas dinner. My youngest sister had brought her boyfriend. They were leaving…



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Laying Our Stories Side by Side: Grandma, Janie, and Me



I turned from the calendar to find the diary in my bookcase. It was hard to miss; the orange and red cover stood out like a sister at a priest hood meeting. I started to reach for it but stopped and just looked at it. A voice in my head rose above the confusion, “The prophets have said to keep a journal.” Yet I could not pick up the journal and write.



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Without Purse or Scrip



[1]Members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints see pro claiming the gospel to all people as an important part of the church’s responsibility. Many elements of their missionary efforts have not changed…



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Learning from the Land



Long after my father’s kindeys failed, I keep in a willow box under my bed the two letters he wrote to me in the thirty years since I left home. Mother did practically all the…



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“To Act and Be Acted Upon”



Let me begin with two statements from a man who 350 years ago struggled to live a life of faith. An eminent mathematician, Blaise Pascal was also a philosopher and religious thinker who knew both the value of rigorous analysis and the limitations of reason. The first quotation, from his Pensees, is his famous theistic wager: 



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The Johannine Comma: Bad Translation, Bad Theology



The portion of 1 John 5:7-8 highlighted in bold has long given biblical scholars pause for thought. Not just modern, “secular,” or “liberal” scholars, either. A physics professor of mine once told his students that Sir Isaac Newton, whose formulation of the laws of gravity still form the fundamentals of physics, actually wrote four times as many books on theology as he did on science.



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Classic Articles

Fiction

Sanctified, In the Flesh



He disengaged the gear, ground the key forward. The motor clicked. The steerage went heavy in his hands. He pushed the signal bar upward with his palm, crossed lanes.  “What is it?” she asked.  “Nothing,”…



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Something to Show



The corridors buzzed with all the chatter and anticipation of a courtroom before a major trial. At five after eleven, packs of people scurried to their seats looking greedily toward the stand. The chapel bulged.…



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Letters to the Editor

Poetry

August



Ahumming stillness. In the orchards up and down the valley
the pith of summer turns slowly to juices. Ripeness:
what my grandmother knows, hunched in her silence.



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By Extension



He blisters his hand on the iron she forgot to unplug,
investigates every outlet, detects exactly three more
potential fire hazards, bandages himself 
in the prescribed method. She is not a cautious woman.



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Reviews