off the TV, I flipped off the light, and we each settled under our covers. To lie in the dark and talk with Gran—wise and soft-spoken, keeper of stories and resolver of spats—was a privilege. That night it was a quiet, considered admonition she had for me. “You’re such a good girl, Meg,” she half whispered across the room. “You’re a good friend. You’re such a blessing to your parents. You help your mom so much.” She was silent for a moment. “Please promise me you won’t ever change. A lot of people, when they get to be your age, start to change. They start getting into a lot of trouble.” I thought of Jael and felt myself beginning to panic. She was warning me, I realized, because I was on the cusp of dangerous territory. I felt the force and weight of her charge, assuring her over and over again that I would not change. That I would not be a burden to my parents. That I would watch out for myself and my loved ones. That I would be good.
Despite my fears, I settled into the rhythms of sixth grade without so very much trouble. Middle school made me feel official and grown up, but the very best part was getting to spend time with my older cousins. I cherished our newfound closeness, and so was completely thrown when, months into the school year, a mutual friend accidentally made reference to “Jael’s boyfriend” in my presence. How could I have missed this? The girl immediately tried to backtrack—it was widely known among our classmates that the Phelpses weren’t allowed to date—but it was too late. I was sick with worry and fear, but also pleased to have discovered valuable information that could help save my cousin from the clutches of this vicious sin. I colluded with other church members to surreptitiously question classmates about the dalliance, and then reported back to my mother that afternoon after school.
I don’t recall the consequences of this incident except as they related to me. There was joy at being the object of my mother’s pride; instead of following my cousin’s bad example or trying to hide her wrongdoing, I’d been responsible and cautious and was looking out for the soul of my friend. There was hope against hope that sweet Jael would be saved from her concupiscence. And there was determination to never allow myself to be in her position, to never repeat the mistakes of the dearly beloved women in our family. I never felt superior to them, no—on the contrary, the moral missteps of such strong, godly women made me fear all the more for the safety of my own soul. I was female, and therefore easily deceived, and I prayed that God would deliver me from such sinful thoughts and desires. My mom, my aunts, and my Gran warned me in mostly vague terms about the sensual sins that had befallen the most devout of women. And as with Gran, I heard such expectation and hope in their voices as they spoke to me: that I wouldn’t fall to the obstacles that had caused so many before me to stumble; that the standard was higher for me and my generation. With the Lord’s help, I would make absolutely certain that my own thoughts and behavior were above reproach.
* * *
As it turned out, I didn’t have much to worry about. From middle school through college, there was really no one in the church whom I could conceivably marry—it was still almost entirely my relatives—so I didn’t entertain any serious thoughts of relationships. I had hormones as a teenager, of course, and a couple of boys at school caught my eye—but in addition to being terrified of lust and of falling out of favor with God, I was a realist. We protested every single day in our hometown and across the country, and our church was universally hated for it. I understood that the likelihood of any of my classmates being interested in me was essentially nil—especially after we started protesting outside our high school during lunch period—and I also knew that the odds of any of them joining the church were even lower. I knew a hopeless situation when I saw one. I also knew that I was far too young to be thinking about boys anyway, so the whole idea was mostly off my radar.
I got older. A crew from the BBC came to Topeka to film their