The Polygamist's Daughter

Stories, Reflections and Conclusions of Life on the Inside


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Witnessing A Miracle

Uncle Rulon, as I knew Rulon Allred to be, was as close to God as any man could be in my young eyes, and I was in complete awe of him.

His thick, white hair, soft blue eyes and gentle voice, gave him an angelic resemblance. We didn’t see him as often as we would like and when we did, his words and presence were precious. On his visits from Utah we felt truly honored and blessed. When he spoke, all who knew him listened intently, hanging on his every breath as though his words were directly the word of God and God spoke through him on our behalf. His instructions were God’s instructions and his voice the voice of God. We felt fortunate to have several of his wives living among us, and on occasion that he came to visit them, he shared his messages of truth and revelation with the rest of us. Not only did Uncle Rulon have the highest order of the priesthood but he also inherited the keys to God’s kingdom from his predecessor, which made him a virtual superman.

In my book, Fly Fly Away, I share the story of my sister Hannah’s drowning and near-death experience in the pond at one of Rulon’s homes on The Ranch.

… Learning of the situation, Uncle Rulon ran from the house and began performing CPR on Hannah, but to no avail. There was no heartbeat, no pulse and no sign of life. Then he did the one thing he knew would help. He laid his hands upon Hannah’s head, and prayed to the Lord to spare her young life as we all stood silently bowing our heads in reverent faith and prayer. Moments later she began coughing and sputtering back to life. While she sat on the ground crying over the trauma of the near death experience, the rest of us praised God, for we knew in that moment we had surely witnessed a miracle…

Moments like this solidified my parent’s faith in their religion and in the man who we knew as the one-and-only mouthpiece of God.

As a child, men with the priesthood had the healing power that miracles are made of. This reverence to men and their unlimited power led some men to use their power as a means of control. Now of course I know that a man and his priesthood have nothing to do with miracles. Both men and women are equally capable of magnificent works of faith, without anointed oil, without special privileges, without secret hand-gestures and without priesthood.

Yes, I do think miracles can happen, especially when many minds, and not just one superior mind, are focused on the end result. There is power in numbers and unified fields of thought. In my sister’s case, her near-death experience and return-to-life was her choice, and not one made by any of the rest of us, not even the chosen man of God.

Stay tuned for the rest of the story!

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Writing The Polygamist’s Daughter

The Polygamist’s Daughter is my work-of-heart.

A long time ago and a world away, I started writing The Polygamist’s Daughter.

It was a book about growing up in the polygamist cult of my childhood. The name of the book changed several times over the years of writing and re-writing as I grew and came to understand the story from my more mature and enlightened perspective.  Perhaps I become complacent, knowing that I owned the name and domain and never imagined anyone else would step on my Polygamist’s Daughter toes.

Several years ago I did a test run of my book and it sold like hotcakes during the test launch. I pulled it off the market because it wasn’t up to my standard. It needed the hand of an exceptional editor that could polish it from my work-of-heart to a work-of-art.  Just publishing a book for the sake of being a published author wasn’t enough. I already have one fabulous book on the market and I know the painstaking process of writing a book worthy of the masses. I wanted to make sure that what I shared with the world wasn’t just another story of polygamy, but a book that shifted perspectives of awareness.

That is what I am now sharing with you. 

FLY FLY AWAY COVER 2018-1.jpgThe Polygamist’s Daughter book, with a more provocative name and subtitle will be published later this year. Fly, Fly Away: From the Prisons of Polygamy to the Freedom of Deep Truth is my story of enduring the insult to my soul and learning to trust my own inner voice as it guided me out of my predestined life and into the world of my own creation. (Final cover still in design process.)

Self-trust is the greatest trust of all. 

I’ve decided to use this blog space over the coming months, while my book is being polished and perfected, to share snippets of the book as I move through its final rendering. Stay tuned as I share bits and pieces with you and keep you posted as the official launch date arrives.

If you want to stay in touch and be on the mailing list for launch date details, hop on over to my official website at www.VictoriaReynolds.com.  Pickup your free guidebook and keep your eyes open for emails from me.

Until next time, be Fearless, Fabulous and Free! 

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Leaving Religion Changed My Life

In words of one of my favorite authors, Martha Beck, I lost the Mormons and found my faith.

When I was seventeen years old I ran away from home for good.  It was either that, or kill myself. 

The first time I was only thirteen. I left home on my bicycle after a school teacher openly made advances toward me.  My father found me and attempted to “beat some sense” into me.  The beating only made me more determined to leave the craziness of my religion. In my eyes, no loving God would beat a child into submission.

That wasn’t a God I wanted to believe in and I wanted to believe that love meant something more that what I saw around me. 

After leaving the Fundamentalist Mormon cult of my childhood I moved to Utah and became a member of the normal Mormon church. I went through all of the missionary teachings as though I were any ordinary gentile, never letting on where I came from and what I knew. I pretended to be a convert, even though I was already VERY familiar with the teachings. I had hoped that being accepted as a normal Mormon would help me feel better about myself and the God I had been taught to believe in. But that didn’t help. I felt awkward in false-acceptance and the fellow-shipping felt disingenuous, as though it had a hidden agenda I couldn’t quite put my finger on. All I knew is that all of it made me feel very uncomfortable, and it just didn’t feel right for me.

In my early twenties a friend of mine introduced me to a spiritual center. There was no fear-mongering or guilt-tripping, just happy people doing their own thing. 

For the very first time in my life I felt at home. I was never a regular attendee at this center, or any center, as memberships of any kind made me feel uncomfortable. The only time I stepped into any church over the next twenty years was for occasional weddings or funerals. My spirit felt free of dogmatic obligations and judgmental eyes as I came to terms with my own truth. The real freedom came just a few years ago when I finally found the process to ask for a release from the Mormon church.

Dismembering from the Mormon Church is a lot more difficult than becoming a member, just as disbelieving is. 

Now, more than ever before, my spirit is free to follow its own path. I am free to be who I am really here to be and I am free to listen to my own internal guidance without fear or guilt for trusting my own truth. Leaving religion is one of the best things I’ve ever done for myself. It has freed me up to connect to Spirit without the dogmatic perceptions, expectations and practices created by middle-men.

I am one with Spirit, God, Source, Love… and It is one with me. I am that I am and I am free! 

And yes, I forgave this past a long time ago. I could not do the work I am here to do had I not had the story that I have. I’ts all good.

Until next time, Be Fearless, Fabulous and Free!

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