Merrijane Rice Merrijane Rice

April 21–27 ❘ In Our Midst

Poem and discussion centering on the Lord’s presence with us even when we can’t see Him as recorded in Doctrine and Covenants 38:7.

In Our Midst

His healing glistens in sweat
trickling down the neck
of one who weeds flowerbeds
for a neighbor who is ill.

His compassion leavens
the bread a friend delivers
after a woman’s third miscarriage
in as many years.

His voice rings out
from a young missionary
who struggles with a new language,
yet persists word by broken word.

Like light piercing darkness
that cannot comprehend it,
the Lord is in our midst,
but we cannot see Him

if we don’t consider
where to look.

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Merrijane Rice Merrijane Rice

April 14–20 ❘ He Lives

Poem and discussion centering on the reality of Jesus Christ’s life as recorded in Doctrine and Covenants 76:22–24.

He Lives

Jesus has felt his heart knock from within
after a long walk or a short sprint,
pulse thumping in bridge of nose
as ache spreads across forehead
from tense jaw and tired eyes.

He’s pressed fingertips
to sun-warmed surface of clay brick,
imprinting the rough,
uneven texture into memory,
a temporal anchor for the future.

He’s drunk down blue sky
on a hot, thirsty day
like well water from a pump
that gushes cold and cleansing
without constraint.

He’s thrown back a sudden laugh
while sitting at table with friends,
then spoken a few well-chosen words
to flood the room with unexpected
quiet. He’s lived

and felt and loved
all the things I also live for.

He still does.

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Merrijane Rice Merrijane Rice

April 7–13 ❘ Filled

Poem and discussion centering on the Lord’s promise that if we open our mouths to share the gospel, they will be filled with the right words to say as recorded in Doctrine and Covenants 33:8–10.

Filled

My son calls home
with questions.
I see the tears, hear the twist
in his tightened throat.

He is like Joseph in the grove,
tongue bound and seized by fear,
desperate for rescue
from gathering shadow.

He is like Nephi in the desert,
crafting a bow and one arrow
but still worried the Lord
won’t guide its flight.

I sit with him in his wilderness,
share the weight of his desolation.
I open my mouth and wait
for words of light.

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Merrijane Rice Merrijane Rice

March 31–April 6 ❘ Temporal Law

Poem and discussion centering on the interconnectedness of spiritual and temporal things as recorded in Doctrine and Covenants 29:34–35.

Temporal Law

My skin stings at icy spray
when traffic passes too closely
on cold winter mornings,
and I feel irritated.

My heart charges,
face flushes hot with blood
at a curled lip or barbed reply,
and I feel angry.

I feel fear or joy
at the smell of a child’s sweat,
whether during midnight fever
or daylight romp at the park.

Body and spirit fuse
like crayons melted together
under the sun, a whirl
of inextricable colors.

I fast to master restraint.
I eat to experience bitter.
I repent to understand
what is sweet.

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Merrijane Rice Merrijane Rice

March 24–30 ❘ Whole Armor

Poem and discussion centering on God’s command to us to put on his whole armor as recorded in Doctrine and Covenants 27:15–18.

Whole Armor

         Suit up!
comes the call. Everywhere bodies
shift and clank, strapping hardware
to limbs and torsos. My hands reach
for what I know isn’t there:
no helmet, breastplate, or sword—

only one solid strap, a belt to gird myself.
Truth can hold the center,
but with no armor or shield,
a heart is an open target for doubt.
I gasp, suck in, and cinch tighter.

Sensing distress,
the Captain draws near
and pours out words of comfort:
         Lean in close—I’ll cover you.
         We’ll pick up all you lack
         along the way.

Caught up, I am ready
to pursue with Him
any destination.

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Merrijane Rice Merrijane Rice

March 17–23 ❘ Song of the Heart

Poem and discussion centering on God’s promise that when righteous people sing to Him, He will count it as a prayer as recorded in Doctrine and Covenants 25:12.

Song of the Heart

Sometimes it’s a concert performed
by poised and practiced choir,
professionals who form
each consonant with clarity
and vowels with buoyant support
to float toward God’s open ear.

Other times, it’s a five-year-old child
lying late in bed on Saturday morning.
Sun filters through curtains as she spins
impromptu tunes from stories in her head.
Father peeks around the door and smiles,
offering a penny for her thoughts.

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Merrijane Rice Merrijane Rice

March 10–16 ❘ Thou Shalt Forgive All

Poem and discussion centering on God’s command to us to forgive everyone as recorded in Doctrine and Covenants 64:10–11.

Thou Shalt Forgive All

It seems unfair to hold me
to this standard: You forgive
whom you will, but I must let go
of everything. You call me like Peter

to walk on shifting water
when you know my little faith
isn’t net enough to catch me.
I must sink and drown

unless you pull me up, frame me
with a set of training wheels to hold
my judgment upright as I learn
to love your fallen children—

unless you offer palliative,
analgesic balm, daily reminder
not to scratch at scabs
that must be left alone to heal—

unless you clear away these chits
and IOUs I’ve heaped up like a miser
to make room in my broken heart
for what I ought to feel.

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Merrijane Rice Merrijane Rice

March 3–9 ❘ Endless

Poem and discussion centering on God’s explanation that Endless and Eternal can be understood as names for Him as recorded in Doctrine and Covenants 19:6–12.

Endless

God is in the past where hordes ripple
like a sea of candles lit and snuffed
in waves. They stumble on the same stones:
battles waged, money worshipped,
passions fed that then fade as old age
weighs in. Over millennia, generations
run together like wax. There is nothing
new under the sun.

God is in the future where humankind pursues
safety, satiation, a less confusing world.
They hope to glimpse it gleaming down
the path and so place careful planks
as bridge toward paradise,
but tribulation’s shifting sands
sweep all off course. There is nothing
so stable as change.

God is in the present where I sit
with mortality clinging to me like heavy,
wet clothes. He feels the constant ache
in my left foot, the torment of cricks and pops
that follow me up the stairs. He stays with me late
into the night as I complain of unresolved conflicts
and unmet needs. There is nothing
in the desert, and no man needs

nothing. Most things don’t last forever,
but many are made eternal
by God’s presence in them.
Everywhere and when,
     even now,
He holds a space open for me
to enter and rest.

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Merrijane Rice Merrijane Rice

February 24–March 2 ❘ To a Sign Seeker

Poem and discussion centering on the teaching that those who wish to be faithful followers of the Lord should not seek for signs as recorded in Doctrine and Covenants 63:7–12.

To a Sign Seeker

How can I prove to you
where you’ll end after a lifetime
of pursuing the Lord?

No message written by angel finger
on temple wall, no panoramic vision
of as yet undecided future
can map all you’ll learn

from decades of travel.
I could sooner trace the path
of a sand grain from ocean floor

to desert mesa to wind-eroded valley dune.
You’ll never know until you choose
who to love, who to believe,
who to consult for maps and translations—

maybe an adventurer who’s found north
by knowing the side of trees that moss grows on.
Maybe a pilgrim who’s been where you want to go.

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Merrijane Rice Merrijane Rice

February 17–23 ❘ A View of the Plates

Poem and discussion centering on a promise given to Oliver Cowdery, Martin Harris, and David Whitmer that they could view the engraved plates that contained the Book of Mormon as recorded in Doctrine and Covenants 17:1.

A View of the Plates

What wouldn’t I give
to see a solid gold miracle—
something substantial
to mold the unshaped clay
of unsettled testimony.

What couldn’t I do
for a peek at sacred mementos
that moved populations and parted seas—
especially if God left an invitation
right there in plain scripture.

What shouldn’t I know
that I'm kept from temptation’s reach—
no chance for Satan to bait a trap
with temporal knowledge or steel
my malleable soul with pride.

Whatever the reason
I lack this first-hand access—
I hold my paper copy close,
looking for messages and marvels
behind each translated line.

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Merrijane Rice Merrijane Rice

February 10–16 ❘ Brother of the Prophet

Poem and discussion centering on a revelation from the Lord delivered to Hyrum Smith through his brother Joseph as recorded in Doctrine and Covenants 11:23–30.

Brother of the Prophet

My youngest says he doesn’t know
if he could believe a brother
who claimed to have seen visions—
and knowing my children, I understand,

not because they aren’t good
and honest boys, but because a mother
has a hard time hearkening to someone
whose knees she’s patched

and sheets she’s laundered. A prophet
has no honor in his own living room.
Think of Jesus’s family, standing outside
the crowd, convinced he’d lost his mind,

wondering what to do with him.
So different from Hyrum—ready
to harvest immediately with bare hands
if only Joseph would direct where to reap.

When I read the verse where the same
who was rejected by His own
introduces Himself to Hyrum,
I sense a sidelong glance at Joseph

as the Lord wills him to treasure this rare gift
from one who knows by experience
what a suffering servant
really needs.

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Merrijane Rice Merrijane Rice

February 3–9 ❘ Spirit of Revelation

Poem and discussion centering on how the Spirit of Revelation works as recorded in Doctrine and Covenants 8:2–3.

Spirit of Revelation

Dreaming, I churn
down blind alleys, dead ends,
roundabouts without exit
or place of rest.

Waking, I hesitate
at the edge of a vast reed sea,
another muddy place
where I could spin and sink.

Thinking, I study
where to place each footfall,
looking deeply into undergrowth
to tell solid earth from fen.

Feeling, I discern
between mists that warn of mire
and flickers that draw me on
toward hidden steppingstones.

Moving, I will
reach the other side—eventually.
This is how revelation parts the deep
and dry ground rises to catch me

as I cross the waters
one step at a time.

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Merrijane Rice Merrijane Rice

January 27–February 2 ❘ 116 Pages

Poem and discussion centering on Martin Harris’s loss of the first 116 pages of the Book of Mormon translation as recorded in Doctrine and Covenants 3.

116 Pages

I know how you felt, Martin,
niggled in turn by hope and fear,
longing to be part of something great
and ready to suffer or sacrifice—
yet still bartering for some guarantee.

I’ve also craved approval, respect,
a little kindness from the world.
I’ve offered mankind my evidence,
half-turned and ready to run
at first sign of smirk,

and I have failed to do
what I knew was right
because I wouldn’t relinquish
what I wanted even though
it was never mine to begin with.

So I don’t wonder at your faults
now held up as warning
to future generations of Saints,
but at your persistence:

how you returned and returned
hat in hand, abashed witness
to God’s infinite mercy.

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Merrijane Rice Merrijane Rice

January 20–26 ❘ Planted Promises

Poem and discussion centering on Elijah’s prophesied return of the priesthood to earth as recorded in Doctrine and Covenants 2.

Planted Promises

In the spirit world,
maybe you work in a small office
checking numbers and writing reports
because you’d do anything
for the Lord without complaint,

or maybe you visit prison each day
to listen and offer a few words
of compassion to the as yet desolate
because you’re a born missionary
who loves by habit,

or maybe you enjoy singing
for the first time in your life
and have joined an angel choir
because in paradise, a desire
to praise God qualifies all comers,

or maybe sometimes you venture
to check in on me—with permission—
and peek through the veil
because when my heart turns, you feel
the tug of uncut tethers between us.

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Merrijane Rice Merrijane Rice

January 13–19 ❘ Morning Breaks

Poem and discussion centering on the First Vision as recorded in Joseph Smith History 1.

Morning Breaks

The boy dreams
of two preachers crying
from high pulpits: Choose!
Pick a side or be damned.

He wrestles,
tries to pray but lips freeze,
heart twists, spirit wrings
out: Deliver me!

Then light, focused
into solid beam
sure as iron rod or nail
hammered home,

pierces the tumult:
Hear Him.

The boy awakes
on his back, staring
into heaven past the first
light of dawn.

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Merrijane Rice Merrijane Rice

January 6–12 ❘ Preface

Poem and discussion centering on God’s preface to his book of commandments as recorded in Doctrine and Covenants 1:6.

Preface

In winter, it’s easy to feel cut off.
Dark falls early, sinks in like ice.
Wind licks at neck, whips tears
to eyes, leaves ears aching.

Heart pulls into a tight knot
like a child curling up to hide.
Everywhere the world cries out,
offering sure-fire formulas for warmth

or crystalline reasons
for the inevitability of heat death.
Another Voice trickles beneath,
picking up speed

like a thawing creek
in early spring,
like an unlearned boy
on his knees in a grove

praying aloud for the first time
at that point of year when light
begins to return in earnest.

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Merrijane Rice Merrijane Rice

December 30–January 5 ❘ Holding Peace

Poem and discussion centering on counsel the Lord gave to Joseph Smith after the theft of the 116 pages as recorded in Doctrine and Covenants 10:37.

Holding Peace

I’m trying not to say the wrong thing
to my oldest son in his twenty-fifth year—
the same flaw-riddled age as Joseph
when he translated the plates.

He too is a man of limited education
and less means. He bristles
and fidgets when I counsel,
glows from within when I praise,

shivers in the night
at visions of the future,
and wakes with the surety
that he’s forgotten something important.

Little wonder such a one might deliver
his trust to the undeserving—
such a one who cannot always tell
the wicked from the righteous.

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Merrijane Rice Merrijane Rice

December 23–29 ❘ Christmas in Zarahemla

Poem and discussion centering on the signs of Jesus’s birth to the residents of Zarahemla as recorded in 3 Nephi 1:4–21.

Christmas in Zarahemla

In Zarahemla, all is still
and silent at the setting sun.
The pure in heart are praying for
the sign that Samuel said would come
         to Zarahemla on the night
         that Jesus Christ is born.

In Zarahemla, Nephi bows,
pours out his heart in prayers and tears.
The Lord in mercy reassures:
Lift up your head; be of good cheer
         for, Zarahemla, on this night
         I, Jesus Christ, am born.

In Zarahemla, awe descends
as day continues on through night.
All fall to earth because they know
at last has come the One, True Light.
         The Zarahemla sky is bright,
         for Jesus Christ is born.

In Zarahemla, all is still
and silent at the rising sun.
The pure in heart are full of thanks
and joy because the Savior’s come.
         Oh Zarahemla, bless this night
         that Jesus Christ is born!

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Merrijane Rice Merrijane Rice

December 16–22 ❘ Final Exhortation

Poem and discussion centering on Moroni’s final testimony as recorded in Moroni 10:27–28.

Final Exhortation

Moroni is speaking to me.
He asks if I will harden
during hard times,
exchange railing for railing,
adopt enemy tactics,

and tear myself from God
in whirlwinds of outrage.
Will I wield truth to skewer
my neighbor or to cut out
the calloused parts
of my own heart?

He entreats me to recollect
the things I’ve read and felt—
facets of truth uncovered
like raw gems emerging
after long erosion,
serenity dropped like manna
to my wasted soul.
I remember and deny it not.

Moroni stands at the bar,
pins me with searching eyes,
leans in to urgently hiss
one last word with one last breath.

He is speaking to me.
I am listening.

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Merrijane Rice Merrijane Rice

December 9–15 ❘ Every Good Thing

Poem and discussion centering on Mormon’s words about how to recognize and lay hold upon every good thing as recorded in Moroni 7:19.

Every Good Thing

Frost glitters under winter sun,
freshens cold pavement
with brilliant pinpricks.

Copper-barked chokecherry
bristles with new buds,
catches morning light and flickers
at topmost branches.

Yellow thistles glow like candles
by the pond, grasses glimmer silver
to their feathered fingertips.

Wild rose bush bends
under burden of ripe hips
heavy and red as great drops of blood.

Brassy sun blares a silent
hallelujah from the blue.
Horses in the field prick ears to hear,
flick tails in time, nicker to the tune.
My feet softly mark off measure

by measure as I hum along,
         Hallelujah!

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