Zelophehad's Daughters

In Rabbinic tradition, Noah is considered the lesser – if not the least – of the Patriarchs. Unlike fathers Abraham and Jacob, Noah did not argue with God. When faced with God’s declaration of the impending destruction of all life through the Flood, Noah was obedient and preached to the people, warning them of the imminence of God’s wrath. But he did not, like Abraham when contemplating the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah, attempt to persuade God to forgo such a drastic, horrific plan.

For the rabbis, then, part of righteousness comes from dialogue with God. Noah was righteous, yes. But the better part of valor – the proof of the truly great – is in challenging God; in wrestling like Jacob and the angel until we may claim our blessing (Genesis 32:24-32). Although we are to be obedient, we are not to be unquestioning. On the contrary, God wishes us to respond. No human question could upset the Divine; it is questions that bring us closer to Him. Read More

You can find the earlier posts in this series here, here, here, and here.

5) The Elders

I have no younger brothers. On my mission I came to feel a sense of siblingdom with a lot of the Elders in my different zones and districts – a feeling of occasional exasperation mixed with tenderness and deep affection, what I imagine I would feel toward my younger brothers if I had them. I loved those guys.

I served in the Provo MTC alongside an Elder from California. He and I were in each other’s district there and again after we moved to a smaller MTC in Latin America for our Spanish language training. Then, after we arrived at our mission country, we happened to be placed in the same district again. I will try to be careful in how much detail I give in this story because it is his and not mine.

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Mike C has done a couple of great guest posts for us recently, and we’re excited to announce that after the appropriate contract negotiations, he has been officially adopted by ZD. Read More

For much of my life, I have been both intrigued and a little terrified by the idea of grace. Growing up in the church, I rarely heard the term, but I was drawn to the questions it posed. One day when I was an early adolescent, I stumbled across a standard evangelical pamphlet in a Reader’s Digest. I read it clandestinely, because I doubted it was okay for a good Mormon  to be reading such wild things. But I was fascinated by the idea that you could get yourself saved simply by saying a prayer. For someone who felt overwhelmed by the expectations of the church, that seemed way too good to be true. Read More

I’m going to be in Washington, D.C. next week, and frequent commenter Marta is generously hosting a bloggersnacker. It will be Wednesday, May 29th at 6pm. If you’re in the D.C. area and would be interested in joining us, please email me for directions: ziff at zelophehadsdaughters.com.

This guest post comes to us from Mike C. See his previous guest posts here and here, and definitely don’t miss his most recent fMh post, “Why I Am Wrong & Why I Need You to Tell Me I’m Wrong.”

I had just popped open an ice-cold, 24-ounce Bud when my phone rang. It was the bishop. How did he know?! It was the first time in my life that I had opened a can of beer, and the bishop seemed to know. I wasn’t even in the same state—I was on vacation, 200 miles away. Surely he couldn’t hear the pop and hiss from that far away. Let me tell you, my testimony of leaders being guided by inspiration was reaching new levels.

“Hey, Mike, whatcha up to?” Hmmm, was I honest in my dealings with my fellow men? “Making dinner”, I replied (technically true). It sounded better than, “Just opening a cold brewski, Bishop.”

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This comes from a Facebook conversation primarily between me and Melyngoch, with some contributions from Ziff and Kiskilili thrown in for good measure. Read at your own risk. (Since my FB page isn’t public, I only included the verses composed by members of my family, but please feel free to contribute or re-contribute any additions of your own.)

A Mother’s Day Poem

“I love you, Mother,” said little Mao
And wiped the sweat from off his brow
“I’ve written all day, now have a look
You too can have your own red book!” Read More

(with no apologies.)

You are the life I threw away,
The happiness I never had;
You’re everything I’ll never do—
But whatever you do, don’t feel bad!

You are the naps I never take,
the toilet where I flushed my dreams away
You’re all the hobbies I don’t have.
No need for guilt! It’s all okay!

You are my halted education,
Projects smothered before they began;
You are my withered sense of self;
You are my snuffed out hopes and plans.

You are the mortgage I can’t afford,
You are the car that actually drives.
You are the only thing I have left.
No problem. You are my whole life.

You can find the earlier posts in this series here, here, and here.

4) Class Awareness

I served with one native-speaking companion, a fiery, fascinating woman from Nicaragua. Not only was she a native speaker, but she was also an exceptionally educated person. Often when we were out talking with people in the streets they would stop her and ask her to rephrase things, telling her that her Spanish was too high-brow for them. And she spoke nary a lick of English, so living with her was a sink-or-swim course in Spanish fluency for me. (I can’t imagine how frustrating it must have been for her to basically serve as a Spanish finishing school for so many Americans coming to the country with shaky MTC-Spanish. The Mission President very judiciously gave her a new companion nearly every transfer period so that as many English-speaking sisters as possible could benefit from her expertise.) Read More

This guest post comes to us courtesy of Mike C. You can read his previous guest post here.

The idea for this blog post came to me, as many of my best ideas do, while I was thinking about sex in church. Now please don’t get all huffy. I am aware of the impracticalities: limited privacy, no comfortable places to lie down (I should know, I’ve tried sleeping on the couches while my kids are attending seminary), etc.

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