June 12–18 ❘ Betrayer
Poem and discussion centering on Jesus’s words to Peter at the Last Supper as recorded in Luke 22:31–32.
Betrayer
Peter isn’t the only one Satan wants.
He’d like to sift you, too,
grind you to powder
under his boot heel.
He longs to crush your soul
and scrape it bleeding
from the pavement.
He sidles up,
sings sweet fictions
near the edge of your attention,
slips subtleties like shivs
between your ribs.
He reasons that if offenses must come,
then why not in exchange
for something worthwhile?
He steals your peace,
replaces it with misgiving—
not whether evil exists,
but if any good thing lives
in this ransacked world.
What is truth? he scoffs,
and tempts instead with fruit
of existential wisdom,
thirty pieces of exemption
from the petty covenants
of duty-bound drudges,
as if unbelief ever set anyone free,
ever did anything but pay the bills.
To read more of my poetry, visit www.facebook.com/latterdaysaintpoetry.
For questions, comments, or concerns, contact me at merrijane.rice@gmail.com.
June 5–11 ❘ Transition
Poem and discussion centering on Jesus’s words to his disciples preparing them for his death as recorded in John 16.
Transition
Duration is relative.
I tell you this as forewarning,
so you don’t stumble.
When you are gripped by labor,
time grinds on brittle gears,
a little while spins into eternity.
Husband hovers over,
ministers count by count
until on brim of insanity
you cry out in despair.
My God, my God!
Why hast thou forsaken me?
Look at me, he says,
You can do this.
Breathe, breathe,
breathe as heartbeats thump,
rush and flow of blood
pumps in your ears until
it is finished.
You soon forget
how close to death you felt,
joyful now that someone new
is born into this old,
old world.
To read more of my poetry, visit www.facebook.com/latterdaysaintpoetry.
For questions, comments, or concerns, contact me at merrijane.rice@gmail.com.
May 29–June 4 ❘ Memorial
Poem and discussion centering on the account of the woman who anointed Jesus before his death as recorded in Matthew 26:7–13.
Memorial
Centuries hence,
my name will be debated.
Dwell on that irony if you will,
not the outrage of imperfect disciples
who scolded my waste.
Or remember this instead:
that John felt the same as I
when he baptized the Lord—
unworthy of the work,
too burning with purpose to turn away.
When I broke open
and tipped scented oil
over his head,
I only anointed in preface
to his own sealing of salvation,
his blood a healing ointment
for all memory.
“Lord, Is It I?” by President Dieter F. Uchtdorf, October 2014 General Conference
To read more of my poetry, visit www.facebook.com/latterdaysaintpoetry.
For questions, comments, or concerns, contact me at merrijane.rice@gmail.com.
May 22–28 ❘ The Other Virgin
Poem and discussion centering on the parable of the wise and foolish virgins as recorded in Matthew 25:1–13.
The Other Virgin
Yes, there were ten virgins—
five wise with lamps and vessels
full to last till midnight,
and five foolish who slept empty,
resting too soundly,
too comfortably to even
shift positions.
Then there's you,
outside the story.
You pour everything in,
burning as fast as drops fall
so you can stay awake all night
to care for others who always need
more than you have to give.
Come, tuck your arm through mine.
Until the call sounds,
we'll share a single light,
praying that the Bridegroom
who multiplies loaves and fishes
and frees springs in the desert
will never let our cruse of oil fail.
To read more of my poetry, visit www.facebook.com/latterdaysaintpoetry.
For questions, comments, or concerns, contact me at merrijane.rice@gmail.com.
Talk cited: “Converted Unto the Lord,” David A. Bednar, General Conference, October 2012.
May 15–21 ❘ Weightier Matters
Poem and discussion centering on some of Jesus’s teachings directed toward the Pharisees as recorded in Matthew 23:13–37.
Weightier Matters
Of course
judgment, mercy, faith—
but there are enemies we love to hate,
sinners we aren’t sorry for.
Pharisees, for instance.
No one hesitates to cast stones
at self-righteous Puritans.
They have their reward.
Even Jesus called them out.
Surely he’ll forgive our failure
to cry Jerusalem, Jerusalem!
over a few worthless chickens.
It’s a shame they can’t see as we do
all the dead bones
they hold inside.
To read more of my poetry, visit www.facebook.com/latterdaysaintpoetry.
For questions, comments, or concerns, contact me at merrijane.rice@gmail.com.
May 8–14 ❘ To a Rich Young Man
Poem and discussion centering on the account of the rich young man as recorded in Mark 10:17–31.
To a Rich Young Man
The boatsman reaches the landing
partly by pulling,
partly by letting go.
Egyptian Proverb
Imagine yourself
a loamy field along the Nile
fed by silt-laden floods,
green and rippling with wheat,
lush, beautiful,
blessed.
Imagine the farmer
who turns your soil, plants,
nourishes your growth.
Will he leave you unharvested,
unthreshed, unable
to feed his family?
You will be scythed,
left fallow for a season
until you are replenished,
then emptied again and again.
That is the way of fields.
But you can choose:
regret every harvest
as perpetual loss,
or imagine yourself
a basket of bread,
blessed, passed,
never running out.
To read more of my poetry, visit www.facebook.com/latterdaysaintpoetry.
For questions, comments, or concerns, contact me at merrijane.rice@gmail.com.
Talk cited: “What Lack I Yet?,” Larry R. Lawrence, General Conference, October 2015
May 1–7 ❘ Silver Coin
Poem and discussion centering on the parable of the lost coin as recorded in Luke 15:8–10.
Silver Coin
I only knew its worth when it was lost—
not just what it could buy
to satisfy hunger and hearts,
but what it cost me to get it:
cloth woven from scavenged scraps of time,
embroidered with leftover ambition,
sold to wealthy haggler
who had no taste or appreciation.
I searched, scrutinized, and swept
every corner, every cupboard,
but the cursed coin remained
indifferent—no, resistant—
to discovery,
till hallelujah!
beneath my candle
I caught it glinting,
snug behind table leg.
Come, rejoice with me!—
for souls and bodies fed,
for new threads on the loom,
for all misplaced treasures
waiting to be found.
To read more of my poetry, visit www.facebook.com/latterdaysaintpoetry.
For questions, comments, or concerns, contact me at merrijane.rice@gmail.com.
April 24–30 ❘ Vision
Poem and discussion centering on the story of the blind man that Jesus healed as recorded in John 9.
Vision
I’ve heard that in the temple
spirits sometimes slip through
to visit the living in the midst
of whispered prayer,
but they’ve never come to me.
I do my duty uninterrupted,
make my sacrifices,
cast coins into the treasury,
always in the same offering box
where once I heard a young man say
that he was the light of life
that could burn through any fog
between me and the Father,
if only I would believe.
I stopped to listen,
but my friends swept me away,
murmuring, “He has a devil.”
Sometimes I ponder
his bright words.
Blind as I am, perhaps God
has a work to manifest in me,
a way to wash this clay
so I can see.
To read more of my poetry, visit www.facebook.com/latterdaysaintpoetry.
For questions, comments, or concerns, contact me atmerrijane.rice@gmail.com.
April 17–23 ❘ Troubled
Poem and discussion centering on the story of Martha being overburdened with serving as recorded in Luke 10:38–42.
Troubled
I love the rhythmic resist and yield
of knead-turn-knead,
aroma of feeding yeast
and baking bread—
promise of full bellies, happy chatter,
family gathered to table.
I wish I could hear Jesus teach
as I work and wash,
that disciples would quiet
their clattering cups and calls
to fetch and fill.
If only I knew how to be
two places at once—
to serve and satisfy
and also sit and listen,
to give myself to others
while saving a good part
for myself.
To read more of my poetry, visit www.facebook.com/latterdaysaintpoetry.
For questions, comments, or concerns, contact me at merrijane.rice@gmail.com.
April 10–16 ❘ Before the Healing
Poem and discussion centering on Jesus’s healing of a boy who appears to be epileptic as recorded in Mark 9:17–27.
Before the Healing
A devil grips my son,
shakes him like a mast
in sudden storm till bones rattle
and head beats the ground.
I cannot tear him free.
He is bruised and scarred,
but not from play.
I once pulled him blistered
from his mother’s cooking fire.
Another day, as I mended nets,
he collapsed in stony shallows.
I ran to hold his head above water,
cradle him till the fit passed.
At night, I wrestle
with his empty future:
He will never learn to sail or sort
a day’s catch on the shore.
He will never read in the synagogue
or keep a feast day in the shadow
of the Lord’s holy house.
He will never marry or worry
over children of his own.
I still believe. I pray.
I plead to know what lack in me
keeps us from God's compassion,
but scarcely dare to ask again
for what has been withheld.
By early morning, I am wrung out.
Silence hangs like a heavy veil.
I venture one more question,
father to Father:
If you had just one child,
would you do nothing to save him
from being torn in two?
To read more of my poetry, visit www.facebook.com/latterdaysaintpoetry.
For more music by Jennette Booth, visit SoundBooth Studios or www.facebook.com/soundboothmusic.
For questions, comments, or concerns, contact me at merrijane.rice@gmail.com.
April 3–9 ❘ At the Tomb
Poem and discussion centering on the story of Mary encountering the resurrected Savior outside the tomb as recorded in John 20:11–16.
At the Tomb
The angel was like lightning—
sudden, unexpected, brilliant,
electrifying.
Gone before I comprehended him.
Despite his earth-shaking message
and newly donned sinews
that first resurrection morning,
it wasn’t him I came to see.
I turned instead to the garden
and found a Caretaker waiting,
ready to bridge death’s rift
with a single word
addressed to me:
Mary.
To read more of my poetry, visit www.facebook.com/latterdaysaintpoetry.
For questions, comments, or concerns, contact me atmerrijane.rice@gmail.com.
March 27–April 2 ❘ Peter
Poem and discussion centering on Jesus’s discussion with some of his disciples after he fed the 5,000 as recorded in John 6:26–69.
Peter
Will you also go away?
He was always asking
difficult questions.
When your belly is satisfied,
what bread will you crave?
In the kingdom of heaven
where no one goes hungry,
will you forget to eat?
I was empty all my life,
the pit of me always hollow
whatever my nets hauled in,
until he came with his hard sayings.
Course after course,
I chewed, swallowed, digested.
Now meals seem scraps,
eating a fast.
Surely he sees
how he fattens my bones, flows
through my veins
like milk and honey.
When you are all my living,
where else can I go?
To read more of my poetry, visit www.facebook.com/latterdaysaintpoetry.
For questions, comments, or concerns, contact me at merrijane.rice@gmail.com.
Mar. 20–26 ❘ Parables
Poem and discussion centering on the parables of Jesus Christ as recorded in the New Testament.
Parables
The kingdom of heaven
is a potluck dinner,
where all come to partake
of each other’s best.
It's an heirloom recipe
that requires translation
to find the right ingredients
in modern stores.
It's a reunion
where widowed, orphaned, barren
gather and mourn together,
a broken family restored.
It's a story told aloud
so breathless with expectation
that to not be drawn in
you must leave the room,
or if you love a good story
and have ears to hear,
stay and listen.
To read more of my poetry, visit www.facebook.com/latterdaysaintpoetry.
For questions, comments, or concerns, contact me at merrijane.rice@gmail.com.
Mar. 13–19 ❘ Prayer for My Children
Poem and discussion centering on teachings of Jesus as recorded in Luke 11:9–13
Prayer for My Children
In field, in house,
in closet of my heart,
I pause to rehearse your names,
to trace every syllable and letter
in my mind. I focus
on your faces before me
behind my closed lids, as though
I cupped you all in my hands,
examining and meditating
on your agonies, my agonies
over you.
I pour out my soul to One
who needn’t respect your privacy,
who watches and eavesdrops,
guides when I am not allowed
to interfere.
Every day, every moment,
I ask peace for you.
I seek peace for you.
I knock and it opens
peace to us all,
petal by petal.
To read more of my poetry, visit www.facebook.com/latterdaysaintpoetry. For questions, comments, or concerns, contact me at merrijane.rice@gmail.com.
Buy a copy of Messages on the Water from Amazon.
Buy a copy of Darlene Young’s Homespun and Angel Feathers from Amazon.
Download a copy of “My Father, I Will Cry to Thee” from ChurchofJesusChrist.org.
Mar. 6–12 ❘ Disciple’s Prayer
Poem and discussion centering on the Lord’s Prayer as recorded in Matthew 6:7–13.
Disciple’s Prayer
Lord, make my life a prayer,
not a vain repetition rehearsed
and performed on street corners.
When I speak your tender name,
may it be between the two of us
a conversation uninterrupted by Amen.
Teach me how to teach myself and others,
to boost our mutual climb
and chisel footholds in the mountain.
Give me rest from endless pursuit
of more and still more.
Let me shed excess without regret
and give it freely to anyone
without under-breaths of you’re welcome
or you owe me.
And if I must be pushed, tested,
pressed into yoke of earthly service,
then let it be by you, with you,
for you are sufficient
to knit my riven heart,
rinse my mud-soaked soul,
and set me gently again
on the straight path
toward forever.
To read more of my poetry, visit www.facebook.com/latterdaysaintpoetry.
For questions, comments, or concerns, contact me at merrijane.rice@gmail.com.
Feb. 27–Mar. 5 ❘ Paralyzed
Poem and discussion centering on the account of the man with palsy who was lowered through the roof on his bed to be healed by Jesus, as recorded in Mark 2:1–12.
Paralyzed
Maybe you’ve never decayed
like a leper thrown to the desert,
or bled inside for years
like an unclean woman in hiding.
Maybe you’ve never reached your whole life
for God’s blessing with withered hand—
but I know some kind of pain holds you close.
Like you, I was desperate.
I couldn’t walk to Peter’s house,
press through crowds, climb walls,
pry up roof tiles. I couldn’t
lower myself into Messiah’s lap.
Friends had to haul me bodily,
heave me to the brink of salvation.
And when I emerged,
buoyant as birdsong,
all burdens shed but bedroll,
my friends met me again.
We walked home together,
breathless as we laughed and talked
of old springs that poured from split rock
and bread that used to drop from heaven
like honey.
To read more of my poetry, visit www.facebook.com/latterdaysaintpoetry.
For questions, comments, or concerns, contact me at merrijane.rice@gmail.com.
Feb. 20–26 ❘ It’s Hard to Be Little
Poem and discussion centering on the part of the Sermon on the Mount where Jesus counsels his disciples to ask, seek, and knock, as recorded in Matthew 7:7–11.
It’s Hard to Be Little
When my math homework makes me angry,
Dad says, “Ask for help when you need it.”
Then he sits down to figure the problems with me,
sometimes Googles the answers.
But when I wanted to push the trampoline
up to the house so I could fly
off the roof, he said “NO.” Really loud.
When everyone’s in the car waiting
but I can’t find my shoes,
Mom says, “Open your eyes and look.”
She points to patent leather toes poking out
from under my bed. She sees everything.
But when I wanted to peek at my Christmas presents,
I searched from guestroom closet
to basement cold storage with no luck.
Mom wouldn’t give me even a little hint.
Both of them say it’s not polite
to run into the neighbor’s house without knocking
even if I need to use the bathroom
and I can’t make it home in time.
So I always knock. Now.
I’m still nervous about when to ask
and when to think about it some more,
when to look harder and when to sit tight.
I only sometimes guess what they want—
but somehow they always know what I need.
Maybe that’s what makes them
the boss of me.
To read more of my poetry, visit www.facebook.com/latterdaysaintpoetry. For questions, comments, or concerns, contact me at merrijane.rice@gmail.com.
Download a copy of the sheet music for “Ask, Seek, Knock” at SoundBooth Studios. For more music by Jennette Booth, visit www.facebook.com/soundboothmusic.
Order a copy of Messages on the Water at Amazon.
Feb. 13–19 ❘ On the Mount
Poem and discussion centering on the account of Jesus’s sermon on the mount as recorded in Matthew 5:43–48.
On the Mount
Love your enemy.
I looked at the group seated
in the green field at mountain’s foot.
No Pharisees were present,
no impertinent scribes to quibble
over who merited the name “neighbor.”
Bless those who curse you.
Do good to those who hate you.
I thought of all the sinners we served,
blessed without reservation.
We ate with publicans,
drank with Samaritans.
Who was he rebuking?
Pray for those who abuse
and persecute you.
I shifted uneasily on stony ground.
Did he mean for us to pity
those he called hypocrites, millstones,
thieves who nested in the temple?
Be perfect as your Heavenly Father,
who loves the just and unjust,
is perfect.
Might as well spin me into wool
and thread me through a needle.
My heart melted like mud in a downpour.
Maybe I was my own enemy.
Then, under the flood, bedrock:
With God,
all things are possible.
To read more of my poetry, visit www.facebook.com/latterdaysaintpoetry.
For questions, comments, or concerns, contact me at merrijane.rice@gmail.com.
Feb. 6–12 ❘ At Jacob’s Well
Poem and discussion centering on the account of Jesus conversing with the Samaritan woman at Jacob’s well as recorded in John 4:5–29.
At Jacob’s Well
Living water, he said:
not like a stream,
doggedly rushing down
to a dead sea
not like transient pools after rain,
stagnant and passive
as the sun sucks them dry
not like this well,
cool and deep,
cryptic in darkness
but a spring filling up,
bubbling over,
spilling through everyone.
Can you imagine a man
who would make fountains
of us all?
Yet as he spoke,
I felt the surge
within.
To read more of my poetry, visit www.facebook.com/latterdaysaintpoetry.
For questions, comments, or concerns, contact me at merrijane.rice@gmail.com.
Jan. 30–Feb. 5 ❘ Tempted of the Devil
Poem and discussion centering on the account of Satan tempting Jesus in the wilderness as recorded in Luke 4:1–14.
Tempted of the Devil
After what felt like forty days fasting,
I left church, famished. The devil said:
It’s not time for dinner, but
well past lunch.
You could eat.
“I do have a headache,” I thought.
I compromised and had a Diet Coke.
Then I was carried away by the Spirit
to nap. As I dreamt, the devil crept in:
You could have anything—honored
career, envied abs, chic wardrobe
of classic silhouettes. Go find yourself.
“Maybe,” I thought,
“Am I hiding in a department store dress rack?”
When I woke with throbbing temples, the devil
drove into me like an east wind spraying grit:
Squalling infant! Abandoned brat!
You are lost forever. Beg
for help all you want—no one cares.
I wept, groped about, then remembered:
I am a child of God. He sent me here.
I blew my nose and said,
“Go away, Satan.”
The devil departed
for a season.
To read more of my poetry, visit www.facebook.com/latterdaysaintpoetry.
For questions, comments, or concerns, contact me at merrijane.rice@gmail.com.