“Being Man and Woman Both”: The Unfiltered Voice of a Pioneer Missionary Wife

We often visualize the 19th-century Latter-day Saint missionary as a solitary hero braving the world to preach the gospel, but we rarely consider the staggering domestic cost exacted from the wives they left behind. While early Church leaders framed this separation as a holy sacrifice, the lived reality for pioneer women was one of crushing physical labor, the terror of childhood illness, and, sometimes, profound social isolation. A fascinating new interview over at the Latter-day Saint history blog, From the Desk, features historians Jennifer Lund and Elizabeth Oberdick Anderson, who discuss the remarkably rare and unfiltered letters of Sarah “Sanie” Peterson Lund to her missionary husband (and future First Presidency counselor), Anthon H. Lund. The interview strips away the romanticized myths of cheerful pioneer sacrifice, revealing a woman who hated having to be “man and woman both” and whose “saucy” pen underlines the reasons for the later shift in the Church toward calling young, unmarried missionaries.

What Was It Like to Be a Missionary’s Wife in Pioneer Utah?

The Myth of the Cheerful Sacrifice

In the 1850s and beyond, millennial fervor drove Church leaders to call astounding numbers of married men on extended missions. The cultural expectation was that wives would view this as a holy act of religious devotion. However, the interview notes that Sanie Lund felt no such celestial connection in the moment.

She did not sugarcoat her experience or put on a brave face to protect her husband. Instead, she was brutally honest about the resentment and exhaustion she felt. While nursing sick children and trying to secure winter supplies alone, she wrote to Anthon:

“I do hate this being man and woman both. it does not agree with me. I dont like it but will have to like it or not another year… you say you are happy to be there because it is your duty to be there. well I supose your duty is a pleasant one it seems to be my duty to wait on sick children but I cant say I am happy to do so… I often wonder how President Lund would feel to [be] home nursing sick children one week out and another in and his wife in Denmark enjoying herself.”

The Isolation of the Home Front

Sanie’s letters vividly capture the extreme isolation of a missionary wife. Without antibiotics, 19th-century childhood illnesses were often a death sentence, or at least had little available to offer relief from symptoms. Sanie walked the floors for days on end without sleep, terrified that one of her children would die while she was solely responsible for their care.

Furthermore, simply attending church became an overwhelming chore. Attempting to manage a brood of rambunctious boys by herself in the pews was so exhausting that she often gave up and simply stayed home. Add to this the ever-present anxiety—common among missionary wives of the era—that her husband might return from Europe with a second, plural wife, and it becomes clear why Sanie’s letters were often “saucy.”

A Legacy Accidentally Preserved

One of the great historical ironies of this collection is that Sanie desperately wanted her letters destroyed. Deeply self-conscious about her education, she instructed Anthon: “burn this up you will not get any this week so you burn it for me please… do not let any one get a glimpse of the letters your ignorant Sanie writes.”

Thankfully, Anthon ignored her request and bound the letters into a book. His decision to preserve her voice had long-lasting ramifications for the entire Church.

By the 1890s, when Anthon Lund was serving as a mission president, the Church began openly debating whether to shift the missionary force from older, married men to young, unmarried elders. Most mission presidents preferred married men for their maturity, including Anthon Lund. He was, however, the main leader interviewed to note the hardships on the families of married missionaries left at home. Remembering Sanie’s letters, he pointed out that the wives left at home bore the “harder mission.”


For more on how Sanie Lund‘s budding feminist attitudes challenged the patriarchal confines of her era, the heartbreaking diary entries Anthon kept when tragedy later struck their family, and the broader economic power wielded by pioneer women, head on over to the Latter-day Saint history blog, From the Desk, to read the full interview.


Comments

7 responses to ““Being Man and Woman Both”: The Unfiltered Voice of a Pioneer Missionary Wife”

  1. My great grandfather went on a three year mission in about 1916-18 to somewhere in the South Pacific Islands. My grandfather was born after he left and so his father did not meet him until he was three years old. My great grandmother took in laundry for money and kept the farm running all by herself while he was gone with her two children.

    His being gone when my grandfather was born and until he was three made it so he never bonded with my grandfather as his son, but he doted on the little girl he knew from before he left. There were scars from that damaged relationship that were still noticeable 50 years after the guys death.

    My great grandfather was killed a few years after that mission.

    It says a lot about how my great grandmother felt about most of her marriage being spent as a single mother, that after his death, she remarried to a non Mormon. Because he was from Missouri, they were hate driven out of Provo Utah. They moved to Nevada until he was killed and she returned to Utah with her 5 children. My grandfather was 12 when his step father was killed and he pulled a handcart of their belongings as they walked on that move back to Utah. Her children from her second husband were raised to be nonmembers, even though their older brother and sister were raised in the church and they were still really young when their father was killed. So, that kind of shows my ggrandmother’s feelings toward the church. She once asked my mother to make sure temple work was done for her nonmember husband and to have her sealed to him. She about broke my mother’s heart by saying she wanted to be sealed to her nonmember husband and not the guy who was my mother’s actual grandfather because that meant to my mother that she was choosing her second family over her and that first family.

    But it was obvious to my mother that she felt loved and cared for by her second husband but felt she had been abandoned by her first husband who put church over her and their children.

    So, I would say from my families experience that sending young husbands off on missions for three years was a bad idea if the church wanted families to be forever.

  2. rogerdhansen

    My grandfather went on his mission to southern California during the Depression. He left my grandmother with five children. The family managed to survive the ordeal. But I only have my grandfather and my father’s version of survival.

    My father emphasized the importance of a cooperative farming effort my grandfather had with his brothers. This lightened the load on my grandmother. My father and several of his brothers were old enough to help on the farm. My aunt helped around the house.

    My grandmother was even able to send money for the purchase of a ragtop car. Grandfather called it Metholadum, because it was easy on the feet.

    Because it was during the Depression, many nonmembers did not have money for funerals. Grandfather would preach for free. He would slip in some Mormon scriptural quotes and use it as a subtle missionary opportunity.

    When grandfather got off his mission, he fathered one last son. Undoubtedly, he was a bit spoiled.

  3. Not a Cougar

    Chad, I appreciate the post, and it coincides with something I’ve been thinking about lately. Is it culturally appropriate to share with other Latter-day Saints in a public forum stories about the “scars” we carry with us from membership and service in the Church.

    It’s been my experience that we Latter-day Saints don’t know what to do with experiences that aren’t really faith-promoting. What do you do with stories where a young man serves a mission and feels like it was a waste of time and an exercise in learning pressure sales tactics? Or a women who receives her endowment for the first time and has a terrible experience that causes to never want to attend again?

    Even when General Authorities tell stories from the pulpit that have a sad theme, they do their best to highlight the good that resulted even when you can kinda tell the outcome wasn’t particularly positive. We like to think that the gospel and the Church are forces for good in our lives, and often they are, but sometimes they aren’t and I don’t know that we as a Church are all that comfortable with vocalizing that. Thoughts?

  4. In response to Cougar, yes, we absolutely need to be honest and not only acknowledge negative experiences but also mediocre ones and “blah” feelings. Otherwise, good people seeking to gain, maintain, or strengthen testimonies may feel ignored, unvalidated, or unworthy–or that something’s “wrong” with them. Plus, how can the Church improve and grow if members are always happy and positive? Look at all the changes to the temple ceremonies over the past few years (let alone since the 1980s when I was endowed)–aren’t these due at least in part to leaders surveying members who asked sincere questions and provided honest feedback? No organization can survive if participants are indoctrinated or brainwashed to be “yes” men and women. As a relatively simple example, after a Women’s Broadcast several years ago I felt that one of the male speakers massively stereotyped and oversimplified women. A family member made a brief comment about her equally negative reaction and it was an overwhelming “Yes! I’m not alone!”

  5. I like what Neal A. Maxwell said about Hugh Nibley’s criticism of the saints:

    “His commitment is so visible and so pronounced and so repetitively stated that that’s not even the issue. So then we can get on to what Hugh is saying.”

  6. Jack,
    Hugh Nibley faced backlash and the potential of church discipline. He only survived due to high-placed relatives and friends in church leadership.

  7. It is definitely hard on families. In some ways, the emphasis on strong, “forever” families was more a mid-twentieth-century missionary tactic that then looped back into making the Church more deeply focused on the idea. Back then, the millennial emphasis on converting people before Jesus returned took precedence. But it definitely left a lot of scars on families. While we put a lot of emphasis on the trek west in our storytelling in the Church, the most difficult things were often what came after.

    Not a cougar, I am a strong believer in candid discussion of what is both going well and what is wrong or difficult in the Church. But it does go against a lot of the culture to do so, particularly in Church settings. There is also the opposite end of things to balance against – i.e., becoming exculsively focused on what is wrong to the point that we distort reality. But, again, I personally find it to be healthy to be able to openly discuss issues and concerns.

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