The Exponent blog is sharing guest and reader responses to the news about women and children being able to serve as official witnesses for some Priesthood ordinance (baptisms and sealings), announced 2 October 2019. We welcome your contributions in the comments or as a guest post using this link



Granting women the opportunity to witness priesthood ordinances has long been an agitating point for many Mormon feminists, including previous posts here at the Exponent blog. Beginning in February 2016, Ordain Women launched a campaign, “Ready to Witness,” which included a letter writing component to church leaders. We are grateful and proud of the many women who made their voices heard in these campaigns and posts. True to our mission to elevate women’s voices, we share reader responses and feelings this week.

Crumbs

By Mindy Farmer

I longed for a feast;

Asked for a nibble.

I ached to join the banquet;

Agreed that just a taste would do.

While men gorged on

Authority, promises, endowment;

God’s literal power

Feeding their spiritual hunger,

My stomach painfully, embarrassingly, growled;

Yet, I pretended petite portions

And prettily presented sweets

Satiated my hunger.

A small, insistent voice persisted,

“God would not starve your soul.”

So, I tentatively approached the table,

Raw hunger in my eyes,

Declaring my spirit starved;

My soul begging to do, to know,

To be more.

I desired a full seat at the table,

But asked only to occasionally pull up a chair.

I didn’t want to end the feast or topple the table;

Simply take my place.

They called me selfish, attention-grabber,

Godless, unwholesome,

Masking sin

In the guise of spiritual hunger.

So, I stopped asking,

Bypassing their table,

Taking my hunger directly to God;

Seeking new sources to fill

The gnawing void inside me.

And I realized a sometimes-seat at the table

Would never fully satisfy my hunger

For the God I sought.

Now, they serve up occasional bits of goodness,

Like tossing scraps to a loyal pup,

And caution me to not become too greedy

While I patiently wait for the men at the table

To make room for me at their feet.

And for me to rejoice that they’ve shifted – even just a little –

To concede me room.

They toss me crumbs

In hopes that I’ll stop claiming I’m starving,

Without actually ever

Filling my soul.

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