The Book of Mormon Project.

Our days are made up of a million little moments. From the first rays of a sunrise to the middle-of-the -night crying child who needs a hug and a bottle.

happy moments when everything feels settled and okay. Frustrating moments when your two year old wants to buckle their own carseat and you’re in a hurry to get the oldest to school. Moments when it’s hard to forgive and move on. Moments of scrubbing toilets and toothpaste from every surface, or making the dinner and snack. Moments of perfect sunsets and successful home businesses. Insta worthy moments, and moments know one knows about. Quiet ones. Loud ones. Some you want to forget. Some you wish to tuck away forever. Painful moments. Moments of grief and regret.

A million of them. Every single day. And the women of my generation, if we can pack in a million and two moments into our 24 hours, we will try, because we are born soldiers. We march and hustle and achieve. We raise babies and run businesses. We get college degrees during nap times. We serve and play and volunteer. We want to make an impact, to write the perfect caption, to give our children the chance to excel, learn instruments or karate, and then get those kids to Disney. We are busy, and our lives tend to lean towards the very loud side of things. 

Heres the thing though… yes we are soldiers sipping on green smoothies (or Diet Pepsi) with a baby on our hip, marketing our small business, with three days of dry shampoo in our hair (best invention of the decade I think?). But I’m learning that as such, we walk dangerously close to starving ourselves spiritually and emotionally (and physically). We wake up tired. And go to bed next level exhausted. We get our caffeine in early, middle, and night.

But we try. We try hard. We try to say our prayers. We try to squeeze in a spiritual podcast, talk, or message. We try. But I often times try at a lot of things, and sorta don’t do great at those same lot of things.

The world doesn’t end if I sorta don’t have super clean wood floors or a pile of tried on clothes on my closet floor. No one really cares that my 2nd grader is late to school 4 times a week. My kids aren’t permanently damaged because I only read a bedtime story half the time. Even if we go to bed kind of fighting, my husband and I mostly wake up happy in the morning. I try. And trying counts.

But. When I just try at praying, or feeding my heart and soul… the ripple effect of that exhausted effort matters. It’s not the same as pancakes for dinner twice in one week. the holes in those moments between hitting the pause button on my marching and connecting to God, leave room for darkness to slip right in. The gaps in my quiet reflection, starve my faith and leave me thirsting for direction, motivation, inspiration, love, perspective, and peace.

It was in a moment of exasperated “I’m done” that the pure and acute inspiration for what I’m calling “The Book of Mormon Project” came to my heart. It came like the spring storm last night. Slow at first, and then all of a sudden. And when I was ready, it was like the lightning at 2am. Lighting up the sky every 2 seconds with ultraviolet light so bright it hurt your eyes.

I couldn’t walk away from it. It was beautiful before it was anything. My soul grasped onto the project like a life preserver. It as as if the Lord was telling me, “Courtney, you’re not alone in this. This exhaustion, this starving desert place. and I’m here. Right here. I’ve been here all along. “Come unto me…””

You aren’t alone either. Maybe your soldering and no one knows. Maybe you’re the face of a huge company. Maybe you’re like me, who is looking at her life and thinking, woah, how did this happen? I’ve been trying to do good. I’ve been working so hard. I’m not really failing, I’m not really doing that bad…

But then why do I feel hollow in places that used to be filled? Thirsty even when I’m flooded with people, things, entertainment, goals, lists, rewards, etc?

i am learning it’s because, I am not drinking from living waters. I’m taking a sip here, and splashing my cheeks once in a while there. I’m looking at the Living Water on my shelf. Thinking “I should really read those…” i’m trying. But trying here, is not enough. Trying to feed my heart and soul is not enough. Trying to fill the hollow with a sip or an empty intention is not enough.

The dark will slip in. The worry or anxiety will fuel our moments. The perspective on ground level will quicken our pace. The once blooming faith will shrivel up and die.

The Book of Mormon Project is simple. I wanted to gather a group of women who would be willing to express their testimonies and heart in an artistic way. An offering of their witness of truth in a verse of scripture that has changed their heart, touched their life, and lit up the darkness. I wanted to incorporate these artistic expressions of faith within the amazing wide margin PDF of The Book of Mormon. The wide margin PDF provides margins wide enough for us to actually write something down. Thoughts, questions, perceptions, ideas, fears, worries, impressions, inspiration. to draw hearts and jot down divine guidance for us, personally.

The moment.

We have a million moments in our 24 hours. my prayer for you and me is that we take our power back from the hustle that the world tells us we need to be doing. That we take our intentions and hold them in our hands… and in the quiet, we stop just trying at the ones that matter. That we hit the pause button and open The Book of Mormon and drink, drink deeply, of living waters. We quench the thirst and feed our soul. That we connect, in a real and vulnerable way, to god, ourself, and then to others. That we fill the margins with a different kind of list. A list of whatever god is trying to whisper to our souls. To let those impressions, thoughts, and inspirations lead the way in the rest of our moments.

as I was prayerfully pondering what visual felt right for this project, I really wanted to do something floral. Something pretty and bright. But that wasn’t what was right. I knew it. For some reason, throughout the process, I kept coming back to this verse of scripture.

I have felt those mighty winds. Hail. Storms that beat and drag and bring misery and wo. I have felt middle of the ocean scared that maybe, I would never be okay again.

but. The rock. My rock. Your rock. In the middle of the sea, come rain, hail, storm, misery, temptation. the tried and true promise, that because of the rock of our foundation, We cannot fail. The Book of Mormon can be that rock. It testifies of Christ, the Son of God, our Redeemer, and with Him, we will be okay. We will not starve. We will not thirst.

From me and the other artists, you’re not alone.
And you are loved.


Contributing Artists include:

Alex Shipp @lettermethisco
Emily Poland @5Blooms
Meagan Corniea @LaperLdesigns
Lois Sparks @sparks.designs
Amanda Nelson @simplcityandscript
Carly Andelin @thegoodeggshop
Melissa Esplin @melissapher
Jennie Moss @thesensibletype
Melanie Kropf @handcraftedbrunette
Nicole Holmes @Letteringzen
Jenae Nelson @happiness_made
Courtney Drennan @Hello_lovely_shop
Janie George @janiegeorgestudio
Elise Egbert @elisecreates
Jamieson Leavitt @hellosunshineshoppe
Jeni Hopewell @hopewell_letters
Sarah Ensign @ensigninsights
Sarah Graves @rose.petal.paperie

Courtney Casper @courtneycasper.letters Aubrey Eppich