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Arts & culture from the fringe. Back to blog home.

  • Writer's pictureRachel Helps

Dear Heavenly Mother

What was it like when my spirit was gestating? I hope it felt like a creative process, where some of the time you raced to put me together to be how you imagined. If something didn't fit right, maybe you set my half-finished soul aside for a few days, and then you had an idea in the shower for how to finish me. Then you asked my older siblings what they thought, and dad gave his opinion too, and after consideration, you made a few final changes and sent me off.

Maybe it was more like making soup. You started with a basic template: onion and garlic, with maybe a tomato base in mind. Did Heavenly Father add in a few spices like my husband does when I cook? You both tried a taste and kept adjusting until I was to your liking. Maybe it was more like making rolls. You took out your grandma's recipe and kneaded the dough, with love and power. You took off a piece of dough and circled it between your hands to make a sphere. After cooking up a big batch of souls, you could sit back and watch them cool.

Is it more like making cookies? Certainly it feels like some people are cut from the same dough or shaped from the same cutters. Do you have the spiritual equivalent of a Cricut? Does it ever break down, and the you have to finish a soul with old-fashioned scissors? What happens to the scraps?

Today I started putting together information from my research. I started with my notes from my readings--disjointed facts with citations on the end. Then I started putting similar information together, gluing it together with more words, and organizing it into subheadings. This act of organizing information was the culmination of long hours of study, but watching it come together in that last hour felt like a revelation. Are you constrained by our future physical forms when you make our souls? Do you experiment with different permutations before settling on a form?

Perhaps we're a part of you in a more intimate way. You are like a cloud and we are your raindrops--the same basic material in a different form. To be your child spiritually means we must share something other than DNA. Is it simply because our souls have the same spirit-shape? However you make me, when my spirit is all grown up, I hope you look at me with the pride and satisfaction of a job well-done


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