My hair became sticky with a five year old’s sweat, as I searched through my Grandfather’s house for a nail to finish my project. I had everything else ready. I had selected the perfect board from the woodpile. (The only one small enough I could hold in my hands). I walked to the garage and placed it on my Grandpa’s workbench. The board flat and as long as my forearm, was weathered but not warped. On one side, close to the end of the board, I taped the bottom of a clothing-pin down so I could still push on it and have it open. It was ready for the nail.
There’re usually millions of nails around this house, they always seemed to be there when you didn’t want them, but like Grandpa always used to tell me “When the nails catch word you need one of them, they’ll all run and hide in their secret places, and the only way you can get them out of hiding, is to know their name. Lucky for me I know all the nails’ names.”
Mom, with Grandma, cooked something in the kitchen that smelled like vegetable. I hated vegetabled food. My Grandpa was sitting in his chair. They told me not to bother him because he’s sick from the cancer, but like he’d always said, “I’m the only one who knows all the nails names” I pulled on his sleeve.
“Grandpa, can you find me a nail? They found out I’m looking for them, and now they’re all hiding again.”
“There’s one in the bottom drawer of the cabinet in the kitchen.” He coughed as he sat up, and looked at me his tired, blue eyes.
“What’s its name?”
“Honey, leave Grandpa alone” Mom’s voice echoed from the kitchen. I turned slowly, and started to walk away when a week hand caught me and turned me back.
“Its name is Tom.” Grandpa whispered with a smile.
I turned quickly this time, and hurried to the kitchen. Lunging into the lowest cabinet drawer, I searched. Removing old bags and used paper I searched.
“Tom? Tom? Where are you?”
There he was! I snatched Tom up before he had a chance to run, and escorted my prisoner down to the torture chamber. I found my wood waiting patiently, for Tom. I placed him on the opposite side, as the cloths pin, and crushed his head down twice, with the hammer. Then I bent him over, away from the jaws of the pin.
“Perfect” I said aloud to myself, “Now I need a rubber band.”
I fled from the torture room back into the house. The rubber bands are easy to find. Grandma always locked them in a plastic bag in the kitchen. I removed tiny handful from their captivity, and stuffed them into my pocket. All except for one that I placed carefully between Tom and the wood then stretched him back into the jaws of the cloth pin. I ran to the stairs eager to show my new gun to Grandpa. But halfway up, out the front door window, I noticed the neighbor’s cat. The PERFECT TARGET! Opening the door I aimed over the barrel of my gun. BAM….REEOOOWWW… SCAMPER SCAmper, scamper……
My first kill, but not my last.
A tree, a chair, and my sister fell under my fury that day, but the best execution I give credit to Grandpa.
After standing in the corner for ‘killing’ my sister. Grandpa beckoned me over to his chair.
“Let me see that fine rifle.” He whispered so quietly I could barely hear him. (He didn’t want us to get yelled at by Mom again, I guess) I handed him my rifle and a rubber bullet. He loaded the weapon like an old pro.
“Go stand in the hall, and call for your Mom.” He said with a gesture to hurry. I walked quickly to my position, signaled, “thumb up” to Grandpa, and called.
“Mom! Mom!”
Making the fatal mistake she turned the corner facing me, her back to Grandpa.
“What do you need?” SPROING, SNAP “OW!” she yelped, spinning around she exclaimed “DAD!”
After Grandpa got out of the corner. We laughed for hours.
Monday, November 21, 2005
Tuesday, September 06, 2005
Photos that will never make the news.....
Please pass the pictures on. Sometimes in our everyday lives we tend to forget what's going on elsewhere in the world and that the brave men and women of the service are just like you and me. They have family and friends back home who love them very much and are praying for their safe return. When you see this, please stop for a moment and say a prayer for our troops (land, air, and sea) in Afghanistan, Kuwait, Iraq, and around the world. Of all the gifts you could give the US Military, Prayer is the very best one.
Monday, July 18, 2005
Thursday, July 14, 2005
REAL news
Don't know whether you heard about this but Denzel Washington and his family visited the troops at Brook Army Medical Center, in San Antonio,Texas (BAMC) the other day. This is where soldiers that have been evacuated from Germany come to be hospitalized in the States, especially burn victims. They have buildings there called Fisher Houses. The Fisher House is a hotel where soldiers' families can stay, for little or no charge, while their soldier is staying in the hospital. BAMC has quite a few of these houses on base but as you can imagine, they are almost completely filled most of the time.While Denzel Washington was visiting BAMC, they gave him a tour of one of the Fisher Houses. He asked how much one of them would cost to build. He took his check book out and wrote a check for the full amount right there on the spot. The soldiers overseas were amazed to hear this story and want to get the word out to the American public, because it warmed their hearts to hear it. The question I have is why does Alec Baldwin, Madonna, Sean Penn and other Hollywood types make front page news with their anti-everything America crap and this doesn't even make page 3 in the Metro section of any newspaperexcept the base newspaper in San Antonio
Wednesday, June 08, 2005
Out of the boat too early
this is told by Elder Russell M. Nelson of the Quorum
of the Twelve Apostles.
"Early in our married life when Sister Nelson and I lived in Minneapolis, we
decided to enjoy a free afternoon with our two-year-old daughter. We went to one
of Minnesota's many beautiful lakes and rented a small boat. After rowing far
from shore, we stopped to relax and enjoy the tranquil scene. Suddenly, our
little toddler lifted one leg out of the boat and started to go overboard,
exclaiming, 'Time to get out, Daddy!'
"Quickly we caught her and explained, 'No, dear, it's not time to get out: we
must stay in the boat until it brings us safely back to land.' Only with
considerable persuasion did we succeed in convincing her that leaving the boat
early would have led to disaster....
"Similarly, we as children of our Heavenly Father may foolishly want to get 'out
of the boat' before we arrive at destinations He would like us to reach....
"Blessings bestowed by God are always predicated upon obedience to law [see D&C
130:20-21]. Applied to my analogy, we are first to get 'on the boat' with Him.
Then we are to stay with Him. And if we don't get 'out of the boat' before we
should, we shall reach His kingdom, where we will be lifted up to eternal life"
(in Conference Report, Apr. 1997, 96; or Ensign, May 1997, 70).
For thse who don't have a copy of the D&C
20 There is a law, irrevocably decreed in heaven before the foundations of this world, upon which all blessings are predicated—
21 And when we obtain any blessing from God, it is by obedience to that law upon which it is predicated.
(Doctrine and Covenants Section 130:20 - 21)
of the Twelve Apostles.
"Early in our married life when Sister Nelson and I lived in Minneapolis, we
decided to enjoy a free afternoon with our two-year-old daughter. We went to one
of Minnesota's many beautiful lakes and rented a small boat. After rowing far
from shore, we stopped to relax and enjoy the tranquil scene. Suddenly, our
little toddler lifted one leg out of the boat and started to go overboard,
exclaiming, 'Time to get out, Daddy!'
"Quickly we caught her and explained, 'No, dear, it's not time to get out: we
must stay in the boat until it brings us safely back to land.' Only with
considerable persuasion did we succeed in convincing her that leaving the boat
early would have led to disaster....
"Similarly, we as children of our Heavenly Father may foolishly want to get 'out
of the boat' before we arrive at destinations He would like us to reach....
"Blessings bestowed by God are always predicated upon obedience to law [see D&C
130:20-21]. Applied to my analogy, we are first to get 'on the boat' with Him.
Then we are to stay with Him. And if we don't get 'out of the boat' before we
should, we shall reach His kingdom, where we will be lifted up to eternal life"
(in Conference Report, Apr. 1997, 96; or Ensign, May 1997, 70).
For thse who don't have a copy of the D&C
20 There is a law, irrevocably decreed in heaven before the foundations of this world, upon which all blessings are predicated—
21 And when we obtain any blessing from God, it is by obedience to that law upon which it is predicated.
(Doctrine and Covenants Section 130:20 - 21)
Thursday, May 26, 2005
I think a long overdue thought!
BEN STEIN'S LAST COLUMN
For many years Ben Stein has written a biweekly column for the online website called "Monday Night At Morton's." (Morton's is a famous chain of Steakhouses known to be frequented by movie stars and famous people from around the globe.) Now, Ben is terminating the column to move on to other things in his life. Reading his final column is worth a few minutes of your time.
Ben Stein's Last Column...
============================================
How Can Someone Who Lives in Insane Luxury Be a Star in Today's World?
As I begin to write this, I "slug" it, as we writers say, which means I put a heading on top of the document to identify it. This heading is "eonlineFINAL," and it gives me a shiver to write it. I have been doing this column for so long that I cannot even recall when I started. I loved writing this column so much for so long I came to believe it would never end. It worked well for a long time, but gradually, my changing as a person and the world's change have overtaken it. On a small scale, Morton's, while better than ever, no longer attracts as many stars as it used to. It still brings in the rich people in droves and definitely some stars. I saw Samuel L. Jackson there a few days ago, and we had a nice visit, and right before that, I saw and had a splendid talk with Warren Beatty in an elevator, in which we agreed that Splendor in the Grass was a super movie. But Morton's is not the star galaxy it once was, though it probably will be again. Beyond that, a bigger change has happened. I no longer think Hollywood stars are terribly important. They are uniformly pleasant, friendly people, and they treat me better than I deserve to be treated. But a man or woman who makes a huge wage for memorizing lines and reciting them in front of a camera is no longer my idea of a shining star we should all look up to. How can a man or woman who makes an eight-figure wage and lives in insane luxury really be a star in today's world, if by a "star" we mean someone bright and powerful and attractive as a role model? Real stars are not riding around in the backs of limousines or in Porsches or getting trained in yoga or Pilates and eating only raw fruit while they have Vietnamese girls do their nails. They can be interesting, nice people, but they are not heroes to me any longer. A real star is the soldier of the 4th Infantry Division who poked his head into a hole on a farm near Tikrit, Iraq. He could have been met by a bomb or a hail of AK-47 bullets. Instead, he faced an abject Saddam Hussein and the gratitude of all of the decent people of the world. A real star is the U.S. soldier who was sent to disarm a bomb next to a road north of Baghdad. He approached it, and the bomb went off and killed him. A real star, the kind who haunts my memory night and day, is the U.S. soldier in Baghdad who saw a little girl playing with a piece of unexploded ordnance on a street near where he was guarding a station. He pushed her aside and threw himself on it just as it exploded. He left a family desolate in California and a little girl alive in Baghdad. The stars who deserve media attention are not the ones who have lavish weddings on TV but the ones who patrol the streets of Mosul even after two of their buddies were murdered and their bodies battered and stripped for the sin of trying to protect Iraqis from terrorists. We put couples with incomes of $100 million a year on the covers of our magazines. The noncoms and officers who barely scrape by on military pay but stand on guard in Afghanistan and Iraq and on ships and in submarines and near the Arctic Circle are anonymous as they live and die. I am no longer comfortable being a part of the system that has such poor values, and I do not want to perpetuate those values by pretending that who is eating at Morton's is a big subject. There are plenty of other stars in the American firmament...the policemen and women who go off on patrol in South Central and have no idea if they will return alive; the orderlies and paramedics who bring in people who have been in terrible accidents and prepare them for surgery; the teachers and nurses who throw their whole spirits into caring for autistic children; the kind men and women who work in hospices and in cancer wards. Think of each and every fireman who was running up the stairs at the World Trade Center as the towers began to collapse. Now you have my idea of a real hero. We are not responsible for the operation of the universe, and what happens to us is not terribly important. God is real, not a fiction; and when we turn over our lives to Him, He takes far better care of us than we could ever do for ourselves. In a word, we make ourselves sane when we fire ourselves as the directors of the movie of our lives and turn the power over to Him. I came to realize that life lived to help others is the only one that matters. This is my highest and best use as a human. I can put it another way. Years ago, I realized I could never be as great an actor as Olivier or as good a comic as Steve Martin...or Martin Mull or Fred Willard--or as good an economist as Samuelson or Friedman or as good a writer as Fitzgerald. Or even remotely close to any of them. But I could be a devoted father to my son, husband to my wife and, above all, a good son to the parents who had done so much for me. This came to be my main task in life. I did it moderately well with my son, pretty well with my wife and well indeed with my parents (with my sister's help). I cared for and paid attention to them in their declining years. I stayed with my father as he got sick, went into extremis and then into a coma and then entered immortality with my sister and me reading him the Psalms. This was the only point at which my life touched the lives of the soldiers in Iraq or the firefighters in New York. I came to realize that life lived to help others is the only one that matters and that it is my duty, in return for the lavish life God has devolved upon me, to help others He has placed in my path. This is my highest and best use as a human. Faith is not believing that God can. It is knowing that God will.
By Ben Stein
For many years Ben Stein has written a biweekly column for the online website called "Monday Night At Morton's." (Morton's is a famous chain of Steakhouses known to be frequented by movie stars and famous people from around the globe.) Now, Ben is terminating the column to move on to other things in his life. Reading his final column is worth a few minutes of your time.
Ben Stein's Last Column...
============================================
How Can Someone Who Lives in Insane Luxury Be a Star in Today's World?
As I begin to write this, I "slug" it, as we writers say, which means I put a heading on top of the document to identify it. This heading is "eonlineFINAL," and it gives me a shiver to write it. I have been doing this column for so long that I cannot even recall when I started. I loved writing this column so much for so long I came to believe it would never end. It worked well for a long time, but gradually, my changing as a person and the world's change have overtaken it. On a small scale, Morton's, while better than ever, no longer attracts as many stars as it used to. It still brings in the rich people in droves and definitely some stars. I saw Samuel L. Jackson there a few days ago, and we had a nice visit, and right before that, I saw and had a splendid talk with Warren Beatty in an elevator, in which we agreed that Splendor in the Grass was a super movie. But Morton's is not the star galaxy it once was, though it probably will be again. Beyond that, a bigger change has happened. I no longer think Hollywood stars are terribly important. They are uniformly pleasant, friendly people, and they treat me better than I deserve to be treated. But a man or woman who makes a huge wage for memorizing lines and reciting them in front of a camera is no longer my idea of a shining star we should all look up to. How can a man or woman who makes an eight-figure wage and lives in insane luxury really be a star in today's world, if by a "star" we mean someone bright and powerful and attractive as a role model? Real stars are not riding around in the backs of limousines or in Porsches or getting trained in yoga or Pilates and eating only raw fruit while they have Vietnamese girls do their nails. They can be interesting, nice people, but they are not heroes to me any longer. A real star is the soldier of the 4th Infantry Division who poked his head into a hole on a farm near Tikrit, Iraq. He could have been met by a bomb or a hail of AK-47 bullets. Instead, he faced an abject Saddam Hussein and the gratitude of all of the decent people of the world. A real star is the U.S. soldier who was sent to disarm a bomb next to a road north of Baghdad. He approached it, and the bomb went off and killed him. A real star, the kind who haunts my memory night and day, is the U.S. soldier in Baghdad who saw a little girl playing with a piece of unexploded ordnance on a street near where he was guarding a station. He pushed her aside and threw himself on it just as it exploded. He left a family desolate in California and a little girl alive in Baghdad. The stars who deserve media attention are not the ones who have lavish weddings on TV but the ones who patrol the streets of Mosul even after two of their buddies were murdered and their bodies battered and stripped for the sin of trying to protect Iraqis from terrorists. We put couples with incomes of $100 million a year on the covers of our magazines. The noncoms and officers who barely scrape by on military pay but stand on guard in Afghanistan and Iraq and on ships and in submarines and near the Arctic Circle are anonymous as they live and die. I am no longer comfortable being a part of the system that has such poor values, and I do not want to perpetuate those values by pretending that who is eating at Morton's is a big subject. There are plenty of other stars in the American firmament...the policemen and women who go off on patrol in South Central and have no idea if they will return alive; the orderlies and paramedics who bring in people who have been in terrible accidents and prepare them for surgery; the teachers and nurses who throw their whole spirits into caring for autistic children; the kind men and women who work in hospices and in cancer wards. Think of each and every fireman who was running up the stairs at the World Trade Center as the towers began to collapse. Now you have my idea of a real hero. We are not responsible for the operation of the universe, and what happens to us is not terribly important. God is real, not a fiction; and when we turn over our lives to Him, He takes far better care of us than we could ever do for ourselves. In a word, we make ourselves sane when we fire ourselves as the directors of the movie of our lives and turn the power over to Him. I came to realize that life lived to help others is the only one that matters. This is my highest and best use as a human. I can put it another way. Years ago, I realized I could never be as great an actor as Olivier or as good a comic as Steve Martin...or Martin Mull or Fred Willard--or as good an economist as Samuelson or Friedman or as good a writer as Fitzgerald. Or even remotely close to any of them. But I could be a devoted father to my son, husband to my wife and, above all, a good son to the parents who had done so much for me. This came to be my main task in life. I did it moderately well with my son, pretty well with my wife and well indeed with my parents (with my sister's help). I cared for and paid attention to them in their declining years. I stayed with my father as he got sick, went into extremis and then into a coma and then entered immortality with my sister and me reading him the Psalms. This was the only point at which my life touched the lives of the soldiers in Iraq or the firefighters in New York. I came to realize that life lived to help others is the only one that matters and that it is my duty, in return for the lavish life God has devolved upon me, to help others He has placed in my path. This is my highest and best use as a human. Faith is not believing that God can. It is knowing that God will.
By Ben Stein
Thursday, May 19, 2005
A small history lesson
On the aluminum cap, atop the Washington Monument in Washington DC, are displayed two words: Laus Deo.
No one can see these words. In fact, most visitors to the monument are totally unaware they are even there and for that matter, probably couldn't care less. Once you know Laus Deo's history, you will want to share this with everyone you know.
But these words have been there for many years; they are 555 feet, 5.125 inches high, perched atop the monument,facing skyward to the Father of our nation, overlooking the 69 square miles which comprise the District of Columbia, capital of the United States of America. Laus Deo!
Two seemingly insignificant, un-noticed words. Out of sight and, one might think, out of mind, but very meaningfully placed at the highest point over what is the most powerful city in the most successful nation in the world. So, what do those two words, in Latin, composed of just four syllables and only seven letters, possibly mean?
Very simply, they say "Praise be to God!"
Though construction of this giant obelisk began in 1848, when James Polk was President of the United States,it was not until 1888 that the monument was inaugurated and opened to the public. It took twenty-five years to finally cap the memorial with a tribute to the Father of our nation, Laus Deo......Praise be to God!"
From atop this magnificent granite and marble structure, visitors may take in the beautiful panoramic view of the city with it's division into four major segments. From that vantage point, one can also easily see the original plan of the designer, Pierre Charles l'Enfant...a perfect cross imposed upon the landscape, with the White House to the North. The Jefferson Memorial is to the south, the Capitol to the east and the Lincoln Memorial to the West. A cross you ask? Why a cross? What about separation of church and state? Yes, a cross; separation of church and state was not, is not, in theConstitution. So, read on. How interesting and, no doubt, intended to carry a profound meaning for those who bother to notice. Praise be to God!
Within the monument itself are 898 steps and 50 landings. As one climbs the steps and pauses at the landings the memorial stones share a message. On the 12th Landing is a prayer offered by the City of Baltimore; on the 20th is a memorial presented by some Chinese Christians;on the 24th a presentation made by Sunday School children from New York and Philadelphia quoting Proverbs 10:7, Luke 18:16 and Proverbs 22:6. Praise be to God!
When the cornerstone of the Washington Monument was laid on July 4th, 1848 deposited within it were many items including the Holy Bible presented by the Bible Society. Praise be to God!
Such was the discipline, the moral direction, and the spiritual mood given by the founder and first President of our unique democracy ....."One Nation, Under God." I am awed by Washington's prayer for America. Have you never read it? Well, now is your unique opportunity, so read on!
"Almighty God; We make our earnest prayer that Thou wilt keep the United States in Thy holy protection; that Thou wilt incline the hearts of the citizens to cultivate a spirit of subordination and obedience to government; and entertain a brotherly affection and love for one another and for their fellow citizens of the United states at large." And finally that Thou wilt most graciously be pleased to dispose us all to do justice, to love mercy, and to demean ourselves with that charity, humility, and pacific temper of mind which were the characteristics of the Divine Author of our blessed religion, and without a humble imitation of whose example in these things we can never hope to be a happy nation. Grant our supplication, we beseech Thee, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen." Laus Deo!
When one stops to observe the inscriptions found in public places all over our nation's capitol, he or she will easily find the signature of God, as it is unmistakably inscribed everywhere you look. You may forget the width and height of "Laus Deo", it's location, or the architects but no one who reads this will be able to forget it's meaning, or these words: "Unless the Lord builds the house its builders labor in vain. Unless the Lord watches over the city, the watchmen stand guard in vain." (Psalm 127: 1)
It is hoped you will send this to every child you know; to every sister, brother, father, mother or friend. They will not find offense, because you have given them a lesson in history that they probably never learned in school. With that, be not ashamed, or afraid, but have pity on those who will never see.
No one can see these words. In fact, most visitors to the monument are totally unaware they are even there and for that matter, probably couldn't care less. Once you know Laus Deo's history, you will want to share this with everyone you know.
But these words have been there for many years; they are 555 feet, 5.125 inches high, perched atop the monument,facing skyward to the Father of our nation, overlooking the 69 square miles which comprise the District of Columbia, capital of the United States of America. Laus Deo!
Two seemingly insignificant, un-noticed words. Out of sight and, one might think, out of mind, but very meaningfully placed at the highest point over what is the most powerful city in the most successful nation in the world. So, what do those two words, in Latin, composed of just four syllables and only seven letters, possibly mean?
Very simply, they say "Praise be to God!"
Though construction of this giant obelisk began in 1848, when James Polk was President of the United States,it was not until 1888 that the monument was inaugurated and opened to the public. It took twenty-five years to finally cap the memorial with a tribute to the Father of our nation, Laus Deo......Praise be to God!"
From atop this magnificent granite and marble structure, visitors may take in the beautiful panoramic view of the city with it's division into four major segments. From that vantage point, one can also easily see the original plan of the designer, Pierre Charles l'Enfant...a perfect cross imposed upon the landscape, with the White House to the North. The Jefferson Memorial is to the south, the Capitol to the east and the Lincoln Memorial to the West. A cross you ask? Why a cross? What about separation of church and state? Yes, a cross; separation of church and state was not, is not, in theConstitution. So, read on. How interesting and, no doubt, intended to carry a profound meaning for those who bother to notice. Praise be to God!
Within the monument itself are 898 steps and 50 landings. As one climbs the steps and pauses at the landings the memorial stones share a message. On the 12th Landing is a prayer offered by the City of Baltimore; on the 20th is a memorial presented by some Chinese Christians;on the 24th a presentation made by Sunday School children from New York and Philadelphia quoting Proverbs 10:7, Luke 18:16 and Proverbs 22:6. Praise be to God!
When the cornerstone of the Washington Monument was laid on July 4th, 1848 deposited within it were many items including the Holy Bible presented by the Bible Society. Praise be to God!
Such was the discipline, the moral direction, and the spiritual mood given by the founder and first President of our unique democracy ....."One Nation, Under God." I am awed by Washington's prayer for America. Have you never read it? Well, now is your unique opportunity, so read on!
"Almighty God; We make our earnest prayer that Thou wilt keep the United States in Thy holy protection; that Thou wilt incline the hearts of the citizens to cultivate a spirit of subordination and obedience to government; and entertain a brotherly affection and love for one another and for their fellow citizens of the United states at large." And finally that Thou wilt most graciously be pleased to dispose us all to do justice, to love mercy, and to demean ourselves with that charity, humility, and pacific temper of mind which were the characteristics of the Divine Author of our blessed religion, and without a humble imitation of whose example in these things we can never hope to be a happy nation. Grant our supplication, we beseech Thee, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen." Laus Deo!
When one stops to observe the inscriptions found in public places all over our nation's capitol, he or she will easily find the signature of God, as it is unmistakably inscribed everywhere you look. You may forget the width and height of "Laus Deo", it's location, or the architects but no one who reads this will be able to forget it's meaning, or these words: "Unless the Lord builds the house its builders labor in vain. Unless the Lord watches over the city, the watchmen stand guard in vain." (Psalm 127: 1)
It is hoped you will send this to every child you know; to every sister, brother, father, mother or friend. They will not find offense, because you have given them a lesson in history that they probably never learned in school. With that, be not ashamed, or afraid, but have pity on those who will never see.
A silly story about love I guess.
I'm putting up my amature writings. This and the one below "The dream" I need a good title for this one, and I'd like feed back on if the ending works. --
Physically apart, yet seemingly tied together by the strong bands of love, whose bond crosses plains, mountains, seas; the bond that penetrates deep into foreign lands, through war, hate, misunderstandings, and basically all fears or doubt. It’s something that, like the wind, cannot be physically seen with the naked eye, but can be seen in its power. Causing trees to bend or brake, in the scattering of loose papers through car driven streets only to be stopped dead by a fence or perhaps the side of a building. Like wind, the feelings are true enough, especially to those who feel them, as real as the air we breathe, but unfortunately can be stopped by the other physical creations of man. The creation I’m referring to is not of man it is not a building, but a situation that stops the love from reaching its final, longing destination.
I am at war with myself, and an uncontrolled war as it were. The bodies immune system, in doing what it knows how to do, attempting to remove the invaded, foreign matter from the body, but in the only way the immune system knows to remove foreign matter, by destroy it. And unfortunately in destroying this foreign substance it’s also damaging the needful things. The body grows fatigued, confused, and further damaged in its fight to heal, live, survive. Thankfully we live in a time where the knowledge rained down from heaven has reached a point where we are able to temper the damage, but this action also causes fatigue.
Everything is backwards, everything is afraid; everything learns to turn its trust to the one who created it, God. God tells everything that it’s all going to work out, and everything needs to learn patience. It’s still a little scary to me, the unknown of the future, and the possible pains of tomorrow. I think upon the One who took upon Himself the pains of all, and what He went through. I wonder what fears or doubt, if any, crossed His mind.
All the thinking of this situation doesn’t change the fact of the invisible bond that still tugs at my heart. There’s nothing to it, Love needs to reach his finale destination to be at rest… to end the longing.
The month of June has crept up to me, sooner then I expected, but not sooner then what’s correct. It will be 2 years this month that my current trial set upon me. I’ve decided to run, run away from the prison walls, the cold, dark cell of my existence, run to my heart, run where my love needs to be, run so that the longing can be over, ended, put to sleep, and I pray silently I find that sleep in the arms of the one I’ve been longing for.
First stop is at the store, I walk because I don’t want my warden to know I’ve escaped and I’m leaving. The warden can go back to her life of Matlock, Wednesday gambling, and visits to her sister to pass her time. I ponder taking her with me, she needs to escape the prison as much as I, but I don’t think she’d leave the walls of her prison willingly, forever. There are too many memories there, and she’s too set in her ways. Like a cat taken from its home I think instinctively she’d find her way back, and that action of course would only put me on the spot to explain all my thoughts and feelings.
How do you explain the wind to the wall?
I take with me a small cooler filled with the current medication, what good is the escape of one’s heart only to lose his brain to the immune system? At the store water is purchased, one 24 oz. bottle of water, and all the money taken off of the card from the states financial aid, a bus ride over to the bank, then down town to the greyhound station to purchase a one way ticket to freedom.
While waiting in the station for the bus to get gassed, warmed, and ready. I strike up a conversation with an old grey haired man wearing a brown, corduroy suite. He’s on his way back to his family in Burbank California. He tells me his daughter is probably worried sick over him. She’s been watching over him for almost four years now, but he’s not a baby, He can take care of himself, and this trip “to visit my Grandson in Garland (Utah) is proof positive of that. Proof positive indeed. Tell me I’m too old, and feeble to get up and travel anymore. Sure I have my problems with my body, but my mind knows what it wants, and damn it I’m not a baby, I am not a baby! I’m a grown man…a grown man…” I almost felt like hugging the guy as he put his head in his hands, and I think started to weep. I knew what he was going through, I’d been living that same existence now for way too long. It’s not correct, not at all, but here I was almost 50 years younger then he, and experiencing the same situation. I let the old man be alone, and went to fill up my water bottle in the drinking fountain, and relieve myself from the water that I had already drunk.
The bus was ready finally, and Charles, the elderly man, and I made our way to it.
One to start his new life, the other to return to the life he’d left.
We became better friends on the 9-hour bus ride we were together. I told him of my situation, and we shared our likes and dislikes with each other. We ended up attempting to nap at the same time, but I really didn’t sleep all-that well. I showed him my medicines, and he knew a few of them. “I’ve never taken that one, but I know about it, I had a friend once who…” Oh that was a long story that didn’t go anywhere, but I faked interest, and my attention on it to keep the old guy content.
As my stop approached I informed him I was getting off soon, he felt sad to see me go, and truthfully I did as well. He still had another hour or so on the bus to LA, then his daughter was picking him up to drive him home to Burbank. I wished him all the luck in the world, and we parted when the bus made its stop in Victorville to gas up, and to drop my end off.
The buildings were a little like home, but the air had a little more moisture to it. It reminded me, first of all, of Bakersville, CA. one of my known cities of California.
My watch read 7:00, but with the time change it would be 6:00 here. I changed my watch to reflect that. Now how to find her home? Locating the Victor Valley Transit station in the nearby yellow pages I walked to the address listed. Upon a discussion with the cute, little, blonde girl behind the counter, I found the house was not near a scheduled stop of their bus services, but she offered to call me a cab. I accepted her invitation, and the cab arrived within the hour.
Handing the driver her address, and excusing myself for a much-needed second nap attempt, I slept/dozed for the 35 min ride to her house. Paying the man, and thanking him, I left the cab and I had arrived.
The images I’d created in my mind from older pictures of the home were about correct. Knowing she would be along soon, with her children in tow, I discovered the missing nap, I’d sought after most of the day, among the children’s strewn toys, in the shade of a great willow out front.
I didn’t hear her car approach, and I hadn’t noticed the sun elongating the shadows of her house or to steal away the tree-shade from off my face, and to place the shade of the house on my feet. The first conscious understandable audible was her son’s “He’s here! It’s Spider-man!” followed by her “What the heck are you doing here? How did you even get here? How? … ”
“Just a second please, let me wake up.” was my first comment. He children were out, and running around excitedly. Her son continually chattering about spider-man (my nickname from the bite), her daughter moved instinctively to cling more to her mother’s leg at the realization of a ‘new stranger’ so close to her front door, I slowly got myself up, brushed the dust off my back side, and clothes, and walked over to look her in the eyes.
Tears filled her eyes, and started to fill mine a little. My heart was pounding; this girl from the web cam, more beautiful in person then I’d ever would have dared to dream.
“May I touch your face?” I said
And she giggled out a “yes”
I did so, and felt her skin for the first time. My hand came alive on that touch, as if I’d never known the feel of flesh for another. She raised her hand to mine, and took my hand. I pulled her from that into an embrace. I held her, held her tight, pressed my body against hers, felt the joy that is a true embrace. Her heart was beating just as fast as mine, I could feel it, I could feel her. I hugged harder, squeezed tighter. If I somehow could have squeezed us into one at that moment I would have done so, and I felt her squeezing just as hard back. Her children started to relax a little, daughter seeing her mom’s joyous facial reactions took courage, her son seeing the same stopped jumping about, and slowed down. We held for a long time by the look of the sun, and upon her son’s statement that he had to ‘get inside to pee’ we reluctantly eased the embrace. Wiping tears from her eyes, she fumbled for her keys, and we made our way to her front door, where she unlocked it, and her son burst in to relieve himself.
Her daughter close behind her, and I a little way myself, followed as she made her way into her home, and put the keys down on the counter.
“I needed a break from my longing to be with you. Maybe I should have called first.” I smiled.
She burst out a little laughter again, and we embraced again.
“Yes, maybe you should have called first, but this is a wonderful surprise. Oh,” she said wiping more tears from her eyes, after relinquishing the embrace. “I need to get me some dinner now after all this excitement.”
“Sorry I just didn’t want to be physically apart any more. I needed to see you, to overcome that gap that was separating us.”
“What about your Grandma, what about your living expenses here, what abou…” I put my finger on her mouth to stop her.
“We’ll worry about that tomorrow. Let’s get you that something to eat, and see if I can’t share in it I’m starving. How does pizza sound?”
“Let me ask the kids if they’d like some too.”…
THE END or THE BEGINNING
Depending on how you look at it.
Physically apart, yet seemingly tied together by the strong bands of love, whose bond crosses plains, mountains, seas; the bond that penetrates deep into foreign lands, through war, hate, misunderstandings, and basically all fears or doubt. It’s something that, like the wind, cannot be physically seen with the naked eye, but can be seen in its power. Causing trees to bend or brake, in the scattering of loose papers through car driven streets only to be stopped dead by a fence or perhaps the side of a building. Like wind, the feelings are true enough, especially to those who feel them, as real as the air we breathe, but unfortunately can be stopped by the other physical creations of man. The creation I’m referring to is not of man it is not a building, but a situation that stops the love from reaching its final, longing destination.
I am at war with myself, and an uncontrolled war as it were. The bodies immune system, in doing what it knows how to do, attempting to remove the invaded, foreign matter from the body, but in the only way the immune system knows to remove foreign matter, by destroy it. And unfortunately in destroying this foreign substance it’s also damaging the needful things. The body grows fatigued, confused, and further damaged in its fight to heal, live, survive. Thankfully we live in a time where the knowledge rained down from heaven has reached a point where we are able to temper the damage, but this action also causes fatigue.
Everything is backwards, everything is afraid; everything learns to turn its trust to the one who created it, God. God tells everything that it’s all going to work out, and everything needs to learn patience. It’s still a little scary to me, the unknown of the future, and the possible pains of tomorrow. I think upon the One who took upon Himself the pains of all, and what He went through. I wonder what fears or doubt, if any, crossed His mind.
All the thinking of this situation doesn’t change the fact of the invisible bond that still tugs at my heart. There’s nothing to it, Love needs to reach his finale destination to be at rest… to end the longing.
The month of June has crept up to me, sooner then I expected, but not sooner then what’s correct. It will be 2 years this month that my current trial set upon me. I’ve decided to run, run away from the prison walls, the cold, dark cell of my existence, run to my heart, run where my love needs to be, run so that the longing can be over, ended, put to sleep, and I pray silently I find that sleep in the arms of the one I’ve been longing for.
First stop is at the store, I walk because I don’t want my warden to know I’ve escaped and I’m leaving. The warden can go back to her life of Matlock, Wednesday gambling, and visits to her sister to pass her time. I ponder taking her with me, she needs to escape the prison as much as I, but I don’t think she’d leave the walls of her prison willingly, forever. There are too many memories there, and she’s too set in her ways. Like a cat taken from its home I think instinctively she’d find her way back, and that action of course would only put me on the spot to explain all my thoughts and feelings.
How do you explain the wind to the wall?
I take with me a small cooler filled with the current medication, what good is the escape of one’s heart only to lose his brain to the immune system? At the store water is purchased, one 24 oz. bottle of water, and all the money taken off of the card from the states financial aid, a bus ride over to the bank, then down town to the greyhound station to purchase a one way ticket to freedom.
While waiting in the station for the bus to get gassed, warmed, and ready. I strike up a conversation with an old grey haired man wearing a brown, corduroy suite. He’s on his way back to his family in Burbank California. He tells me his daughter is probably worried sick over him. She’s been watching over him for almost four years now, but he’s not a baby, He can take care of himself, and this trip “to visit my Grandson in Garland (Utah) is proof positive of that. Proof positive indeed. Tell me I’m too old, and feeble to get up and travel anymore. Sure I have my problems with my body, but my mind knows what it wants, and damn it I’m not a baby, I am not a baby! I’m a grown man…a grown man…” I almost felt like hugging the guy as he put his head in his hands, and I think started to weep. I knew what he was going through, I’d been living that same existence now for way too long. It’s not correct, not at all, but here I was almost 50 years younger then he, and experiencing the same situation. I let the old man be alone, and went to fill up my water bottle in the drinking fountain, and relieve myself from the water that I had already drunk.
The bus was ready finally, and Charles, the elderly man, and I made our way to it.
One to start his new life, the other to return to the life he’d left.
We became better friends on the 9-hour bus ride we were together. I told him of my situation, and we shared our likes and dislikes with each other. We ended up attempting to nap at the same time, but I really didn’t sleep all-that well. I showed him my medicines, and he knew a few of them. “I’ve never taken that one, but I know about it, I had a friend once who…” Oh that was a long story that didn’t go anywhere, but I faked interest, and my attention on it to keep the old guy content.
As my stop approached I informed him I was getting off soon, he felt sad to see me go, and truthfully I did as well. He still had another hour or so on the bus to LA, then his daughter was picking him up to drive him home to Burbank. I wished him all the luck in the world, and we parted when the bus made its stop in Victorville to gas up, and to drop my end off.
The buildings were a little like home, but the air had a little more moisture to it. It reminded me, first of all, of Bakersville, CA. one of my known cities of California.
My watch read 7:00, but with the time change it would be 6:00 here. I changed my watch to reflect that. Now how to find her home? Locating the Victor Valley Transit station in the nearby yellow pages I walked to the address listed. Upon a discussion with the cute, little, blonde girl behind the counter, I found the house was not near a scheduled stop of their bus services, but she offered to call me a cab. I accepted her invitation, and the cab arrived within the hour.
Handing the driver her address, and excusing myself for a much-needed second nap attempt, I slept/dozed for the 35 min ride to her house. Paying the man, and thanking him, I left the cab and I had arrived.
The images I’d created in my mind from older pictures of the home were about correct. Knowing she would be along soon, with her children in tow, I discovered the missing nap, I’d sought after most of the day, among the children’s strewn toys, in the shade of a great willow out front.
I didn’t hear her car approach, and I hadn’t noticed the sun elongating the shadows of her house or to steal away the tree-shade from off my face, and to place the shade of the house on my feet. The first conscious understandable audible was her son’s “He’s here! It’s Spider-man!” followed by her “What the heck are you doing here? How did you even get here? How? … ”
“Just a second please, let me wake up.” was my first comment. He children were out, and running around excitedly. Her son continually chattering about spider-man (my nickname from the bite), her daughter moved instinctively to cling more to her mother’s leg at the realization of a ‘new stranger’ so close to her front door, I slowly got myself up, brushed the dust off my back side, and clothes, and walked over to look her in the eyes.
Tears filled her eyes, and started to fill mine a little. My heart was pounding; this girl from the web cam, more beautiful in person then I’d ever would have dared to dream.
“May I touch your face?” I said
And she giggled out a “yes”
I did so, and felt her skin for the first time. My hand came alive on that touch, as if I’d never known the feel of flesh for another. She raised her hand to mine, and took my hand. I pulled her from that into an embrace. I held her, held her tight, pressed my body against hers, felt the joy that is a true embrace. Her heart was beating just as fast as mine, I could feel it, I could feel her. I hugged harder, squeezed tighter. If I somehow could have squeezed us into one at that moment I would have done so, and I felt her squeezing just as hard back. Her children started to relax a little, daughter seeing her mom’s joyous facial reactions took courage, her son seeing the same stopped jumping about, and slowed down. We held for a long time by the look of the sun, and upon her son’s statement that he had to ‘get inside to pee’ we reluctantly eased the embrace. Wiping tears from her eyes, she fumbled for her keys, and we made our way to her front door, where she unlocked it, and her son burst in to relieve himself.
Her daughter close behind her, and I a little way myself, followed as she made her way into her home, and put the keys down on the counter.
“I needed a break from my longing to be with you. Maybe I should have called first.” I smiled.
She burst out a little laughter again, and we embraced again.
“Yes, maybe you should have called first, but this is a wonderful surprise. Oh,” she said wiping more tears from her eyes, after relinquishing the embrace. “I need to get me some dinner now after all this excitement.”
“Sorry I just didn’t want to be physically apart any more. I needed to see you, to overcome that gap that was separating us.”
“What about your Grandma, what about your living expenses here, what abou…” I put my finger on her mouth to stop her.
“We’ll worry about that tomorrow. Let’s get you that something to eat, and see if I can’t share in it I’m starving. How does pizza sound?”
“Let me ask the kids if they’d like some too.”…
THE END or THE BEGINNING
Depending on how you look at it.
Wednesday, May 11, 2005
"The Dream"
A dream i lay out before you, a dream of my own design. Of course all objects have been borrowed by my mind’s eye from man or nature; described for usage, i hope, in such a way as to spark a desire for love and passion. Here i present, ‘The Dream’....
i walk from the sliding glass door down a pair of cement steps onto the small patio. By a simple turn of my head i can easily survey the backyard in its entirety; twenty paces to the back fence and twice that from left to right. In the back left corner a medium size willow casts it’s shadow on a large white gazebo. It's paint peeling slightly from lack of fresh coats, but it's sturdy frame has withstood worse then the light summer breeze dancing though it and into the grass.
When i built the gazebo my wife said i was wasting my time. When i lined the roof of it with speakers she said i was wasting my money. But it has served its purpose over the years. Fun for parties and a place to go and sit to be alone... But tonight it will serve its greatest purpose ever.
i had saved money for this night for years and spent many nights in secret purchasing and drilling holes in the bottom of almost a hundred large, round, fish bowels, one to cover each candle purchased and hidden away.
i think that the hardest part of this night has been keeping it secret all these years, but a plan for something this special takes great care.
Now for the plan to commence...
10:00 p.m.
It is dark and the kids are asleep in their beds. i laying my love down and kiss her goodnight,
"Go to sleep; i will be back in the morning. i promise i will stop working these nights soon."
She has heard the promise before and this is not the first time she will sleep alone. Rolling over she closes her eyes, as i close the door to our room. Walking down the stairs and out the front door i think to myself.
“She will never suspect if i am quiet and i must get to work!”
A quick drive, some packing, and another quick drive and i find myself back in my own driveway. Being as quite as i can, the work begins. i pray she doesn't wake...yet.
1:30 a.m.
The work is done. The fireflies are out dancing.... i believe we will join them.
When i touch her shoulder she jumps a bit.
"What are you doing home?" she asks.
"Just put this on."
"What is this.... a dress? At this hour? ... are you wearing a tuxedo? Where are your shoes?"
i smile. "Just put it on, please."
i stand in the living room and watch the hallway until she steps from our room.
If i could not feel my heart trying to beat its way out of my chest i would think myself dead and seeing an angel.
The dress flows around the curves of her body like a white wave, as she comes down the stairs. Her hair, framing her face and flowing down her bare shoulders, shines in the moonlight as she glides to me in the light from the front bay window.
"i see you have no shoes for me either” She laughs.
"Shhh.. You'll wake the kids, now close your eyes and allow me to lead you."
Taking her hand i guide her through the kitchen, slide open the back door, and lead her down the steps, across the patio, and onto the grass. i kiss her ear before whispering. “Open your eyes.”
It is a cloudless, warm, summer night. The moon and stars shine brightly above, but i do not think she notices them.
A path of candles, lit and covered by the glass fishbowls frames a path of rose petals leading from her feet up and onto the gazebo floor. Other candles placed randomly in the yard are glowing companions to the fireflies and stars.
Soft music fills the night and leads us forward, as petals crush into the grass and stick to our feet.
Embracing her in the middle of the 'dance floor' we move.
Two bodies, two hearts, two souls in tune press against each other moving in step with our love. Sure the music was there but we didn't need it. i don't know if my eyes ever left hers. Five hours of holding the one who owns my heart, passes in a moment. The music long stopped and the candles burned out, i hold her on the steps of the gazebo as we watch the sun peak above the horizon. As the light turns her hair a-flame we hear children’s voices calling for mom and breakfast. We smile at each other and kiss for the thousandth and final time that night, but not the last time in forever. –
And so it ends my happy tale of two souls, sent from the presence of God to receive earthly bodies, which have found each other upon this earth, and are living now in small moments of love, joy, and the assigned duties of all of human kind…
18 Therefore shall a man leave his father and his mother, and shall cleave unto his wife, and they shall be one flesh.
(Pearl of Great Price Abraham 5:18)
“…Be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the earth…”
(Pearl of Great Price Moses 2:28)
“Husband and wife have a solemn responsibility to love and care for each other and for their children… Parents have a sacred duty to rear their children in love and righteousness, to provide for their physical and spiritual needs, to teach them… to observe the commandments of God…”
(Family: A proclamation to the World)
i walk from the sliding glass door down a pair of cement steps onto the small patio. By a simple turn of my head i can easily survey the backyard in its entirety; twenty paces to the back fence and twice that from left to right. In the back left corner a medium size willow casts it’s shadow on a large white gazebo. It's paint peeling slightly from lack of fresh coats, but it's sturdy frame has withstood worse then the light summer breeze dancing though it and into the grass.
When i built the gazebo my wife said i was wasting my time. When i lined the roof of it with speakers she said i was wasting my money. But it has served its purpose over the years. Fun for parties and a place to go and sit to be alone... But tonight it will serve its greatest purpose ever.
i had saved money for this night for years and spent many nights in secret purchasing and drilling holes in the bottom of almost a hundred large, round, fish bowels, one to cover each candle purchased and hidden away.
i think that the hardest part of this night has been keeping it secret all these years, but a plan for something this special takes great care.
Now for the plan to commence...
10:00 p.m.
It is dark and the kids are asleep in their beds. i laying my love down and kiss her goodnight,
"Go to sleep; i will be back in the morning. i promise i will stop working these nights soon."
She has heard the promise before and this is not the first time she will sleep alone. Rolling over she closes her eyes, as i close the door to our room. Walking down the stairs and out the front door i think to myself.
“She will never suspect if i am quiet and i must get to work!”
A quick drive, some packing, and another quick drive and i find myself back in my own driveway. Being as quite as i can, the work begins. i pray she doesn't wake...yet.
1:30 a.m.
The work is done. The fireflies are out dancing.... i believe we will join them.
When i touch her shoulder she jumps a bit.
"What are you doing home?" she asks.
"Just put this on."
"What is this.... a dress? At this hour? ... are you wearing a tuxedo? Where are your shoes?"
i smile. "Just put it on, please."
i stand in the living room and watch the hallway until she steps from our room.
If i could not feel my heart trying to beat its way out of my chest i would think myself dead and seeing an angel.
The dress flows around the curves of her body like a white wave, as she comes down the stairs. Her hair, framing her face and flowing down her bare shoulders, shines in the moonlight as she glides to me in the light from the front bay window.
"i see you have no shoes for me either” She laughs.
"Shhh.. You'll wake the kids, now close your eyes and allow me to lead you."
Taking her hand i guide her through the kitchen, slide open the back door, and lead her down the steps, across the patio, and onto the grass. i kiss her ear before whispering. “Open your eyes.”
It is a cloudless, warm, summer night. The moon and stars shine brightly above, but i do not think she notices them.
A path of candles, lit and covered by the glass fishbowls frames a path of rose petals leading from her feet up and onto the gazebo floor. Other candles placed randomly in the yard are glowing companions to the fireflies and stars.
Soft music fills the night and leads us forward, as petals crush into the grass and stick to our feet.
Embracing her in the middle of the 'dance floor' we move.
Two bodies, two hearts, two souls in tune press against each other moving in step with our love. Sure the music was there but we didn't need it. i don't know if my eyes ever left hers. Five hours of holding the one who owns my heart, passes in a moment. The music long stopped and the candles burned out, i hold her on the steps of the gazebo as we watch the sun peak above the horizon. As the light turns her hair a-flame we hear children’s voices calling for mom and breakfast. We smile at each other and kiss for the thousandth and final time that night, but not the last time in forever. –
And so it ends my happy tale of two souls, sent from the presence of God to receive earthly bodies, which have found each other upon this earth, and are living now in small moments of love, joy, and the assigned duties of all of human kind…
18 Therefore shall a man leave his father and his mother, and shall cleave unto his wife, and they shall be one flesh.
(Pearl of Great Price Abraham 5:18)
“…Be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the earth…”
(Pearl of Great Price Moses 2:28)
“Husband and wife have a solemn responsibility to love and care for each other and for their children… Parents have a sacred duty to rear their children in love and righteousness, to provide for their physical and spiritual needs, to teach them… to observe the commandments of God…”
(Family: A proclamation to the World)
Tuesday, May 10, 2005
Section 33 a little.
3 For behold, the field is white already to harvest; and it is the eleventh hour, and the last time that I shall call laborers into my vineyard.
4 And my vineyard has become corrupted every whit; and there is none which doeth good save it be a few; and they err in many instances because of priestcrafts, all having corrupt minds.
5 And verily, verily, I say unto you, that this church have I established and called forth out of the wilderness.
6 And even so will I gather mine elect from the four quarters of the earth, even as many as will believe in me, and hearken unto my voice.
7 Yea, verily, verily, I say unto you, that the field is white already to harvest; wherefore, thrust in your sickles, and reap with all your might, mind, and strength.
8 Open your mouths and they shall be filled, and you shall become even as Nephi of old, who journeyed from Jerusalem in the wilderness.
9 Yea, open your mouths and spare not, and you shall be laden with sheaves upon your backs, for lo, I am with you.
10 Yea, open your mouths and they shall be filled, saying: Repent, repent, and prepare ye the way of the Lord, and make his paths straight; for the kingdom of heaven is at hand;
11 Yea, repent and be baptized, every one of you, for a remission of your sins; yea, be baptized even by water, and then cometh the baptism of fire and of the Holy Ghost.
12 Behold, verily, verily, I say unto you, this is my gospel; and remember that they shall have faith in me or they can in nowise be saved;
13 And upon this rock I will build my church; yea, upon this rock ye are built, and if ye continue, the gates of hell shall not prevail against you.
14 And ye shall remember the church articles and covenants to keep them.
15 And whoso having faith you shall confirm in my church, by the laying on of the hands, and I will bestow the gift of the Holy Ghost upon them.
16 And the Book of Mormon and the holy scriptures are given of me for your instruction; and the power of my Spirit quickeneth all things.
17 Wherefore, be faithful, praying always, having your lamps trimmed and burning, and oil with you, that you may be ready at the coming of the Bridegroom—
18 For behold, verily, verily, I say unto you, that I come quickly. Even so. Amen.
4 And my vineyard has become corrupted every whit; and there is none which doeth good save it be a few; and they err in many instances because of priestcrafts, all having corrupt minds.
5 And verily, verily, I say unto you, that this church have I established and called forth out of the wilderness.
6 And even so will I gather mine elect from the four quarters of the earth, even as many as will believe in me, and hearken unto my voice.
7 Yea, verily, verily, I say unto you, that the field is white already to harvest; wherefore, thrust in your sickles, and reap with all your might, mind, and strength.
8 Open your mouths and they shall be filled, and you shall become even as Nephi of old, who journeyed from Jerusalem in the wilderness.
9 Yea, open your mouths and spare not, and you shall be laden with sheaves upon your backs, for lo, I am with you.
10 Yea, open your mouths and they shall be filled, saying: Repent, repent, and prepare ye the way of the Lord, and make his paths straight; for the kingdom of heaven is at hand;
11 Yea, repent and be baptized, every one of you, for a remission of your sins; yea, be baptized even by water, and then cometh the baptism of fire and of the Holy Ghost.
12 Behold, verily, verily, I say unto you, this is my gospel; and remember that they shall have faith in me or they can in nowise be saved;
13 And upon this rock I will build my church; yea, upon this rock ye are built, and if ye continue, the gates of hell shall not prevail against you.
14 And ye shall remember the church articles and covenants to keep them.
15 And whoso having faith you shall confirm in my church, by the laying on of the hands, and I will bestow the gift of the Holy Ghost upon them.
16 And the Book of Mormon and the holy scriptures are given of me for your instruction; and the power of my Spirit quickeneth all things.
17 Wherefore, be faithful, praying always, having your lamps trimmed and burning, and oil with you, that you may be ready at the coming of the Bridegroom—
18 For behold, verily, verily, I say unto you, that I come quickly. Even so. Amen.
Mr. Sydney Rigdon to the congregation of his Christian church about the year 1830.
'The information we have this evening received is of an extraordinary character, and certainly demanded our most serious consideration; and as the Apostle advised his brethren to “prove all things, and hold fast that which is good” so I would exhort you my brethren likewise, and to give this matter a careful investigation, and not turn against it without being fully convinced of its being an imposition, lest we should, possibly, resist the truth.” (see 1 Thessalonians 5:21)
Wednesday, May 04, 2005
Monday, May 02, 2005
What are we all seeking, perhaps?
Is it not true that we all came from a pre-mortal state of living with God our Father, His son Jesus Christ, and all the other spirit children? (Perhaps even you, me, and our friends here on earth?! )
Now correct me if you feel I'm wrong in the following...
We might have just been a witness to God and His chosen companion relating (clean) with each other in heaven, perfectly and lovingly, with bodies of flesh and bone. When we were told that we would have the opportunity to become like Him and His companion, we 'shouted for joy'?!
The problem now is we're here on Earth with mortal bodies like God and His companion (half the item we witnessed), but 'a veil' over our minds has also been included! Thus, we do not 'remember' in this our ‘mortal state’ all the happenings in heaven, but our spirits, who are housed in these tabernacles of clay, do recall some, and thus long intuitively for that opportunity to gain the remainder of the promise given in heaven that caused such joy there.
So the question is what is it that we are all seeking?
For the ladies is it not (basically) a worthy man, priesthood holder, one who honors that priesthood, along with honoring his mother (first off), his sisters (second), his callings, the family, and all women in general? Who takes care of and strengthens his body and mind along with all the above?
For the men (basically) is it not a worthy woman, who respects men in general, loves her father, who also takes care of her mind and body, receives callings within the church with gladness, and who serves with the all the might, mind and strength she possesses?
In my opinion, they both should know and learn to cook and clean so that they might compliment the other, and instruct further with the intelligence they have gained. Counseling, with love, together on what the ‘best way’ is to accomplish their goals?
Do we not, or should we not, each seek to be one with the other in all things, serving each other with kindness and love? Giving the best we are able to the other in all things that we might reach and obtain that second half of the promise given in heaven?
All comments are welcome.
Now correct me if you feel I'm wrong in the following...
We might have just been a witness to God and His chosen companion relating (clean) with each other in heaven, perfectly and lovingly, with bodies of flesh and bone. When we were told that we would have the opportunity to become like Him and His companion, we 'shouted for joy'?!
The problem now is we're here on Earth with mortal bodies like God and His companion (half the item we witnessed), but 'a veil' over our minds has also been included! Thus, we do not 'remember' in this our ‘mortal state’ all the happenings in heaven, but our spirits, who are housed in these tabernacles of clay, do recall some, and thus long intuitively for that opportunity to gain the remainder of the promise given in heaven that caused such joy there.
So the question is what is it that we are all seeking?
For the ladies is it not (basically) a worthy man, priesthood holder, one who honors that priesthood, along with honoring his mother (first off), his sisters (second), his callings, the family, and all women in general? Who takes care of and strengthens his body and mind along with all the above?
For the men (basically) is it not a worthy woman, who respects men in general, loves her father, who also takes care of her mind and body, receives callings within the church with gladness, and who serves with the all the might, mind and strength she possesses?
In my opinion, they both should know and learn to cook and clean so that they might compliment the other, and instruct further with the intelligence they have gained. Counseling, with love, together on what the ‘best way’ is to accomplish their goals?
Do we not, or should we not, each seek to be one with the other in all things, serving each other with kindness and love? Giving the best we are able to the other in all things that we might reach and obtain that second half of the promise given in heaven?
All comments are welcome.
Components of the Plan
(This is from a talk I heard on Teusday, and I liked it so much I just wanted to share a little.)
The plan required the Creation, and that in turn required both the Fall and the Atonement.
These are the three fundamental components of the plan. The creation of a paradisiacal planet came from God. Mortality and death came into the world through the Fall of Adam. Immortality and the possibility of eternal life were provided by the Atonement of Jesus Christ. The Creation, the Fall, and the Atonement were planned long before the actual work of the Creation began.
While visiting the British Museum in London one day, I read a most unusual book. It is not scripture. It is an English translation of an ancient Egyptian manuscript. From it, I quote a dialogue between the Father and the Son.
Referring to His Father, Jehovah--the premortal Lord--says:
"He took the clay from the hand of the angel, and made Adam according to Our image and likeness, and He left him lying for forty days and forty nights without putting breath into him. And He heaved sighs over him daily, saying, 'If I put breath into this [man], he must suffer many pains.' And I said unto My Father, 'Put breath into him; I will be an advocate for him.' And My Father said unto Me, 'If I put breath into him, My beloved Son, Thou wilt be obliged to go down into the world, and to suffer many pains for him before Thou shalt have redeemed him, and made him to come back to his primal state.' And I said unto My Father, 'Put breath into him; I will be his advocate, and I will go down into the world, and will fulfil Thy command.'"
Although this text is not scripture, it reaffirms scriptures that teach of the deep and compassionate love of the Father for the Son, and of the Son for us--attesting that Jesus volunteered willingly to be our Savior and Redeemer.
The Lord God declared, "This is my work and my glory--to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man." He who, under direction of the Father, had created the earth, subsequently came into mortality to do the will of His Father and to fulfill all prophecies of the Atonement. His Atonement would redeem every soul from the penalties of personal transgression, on conditions that He set.
(Thas is sweet, makes you all warm and fuzzy inside. Swee eeee eeet :)
The plan required the Creation, and that in turn required both the Fall and the Atonement.
These are the three fundamental components of the plan. The creation of a paradisiacal planet came from God. Mortality and death came into the world through the Fall of Adam. Immortality and the possibility of eternal life were provided by the Atonement of Jesus Christ. The Creation, the Fall, and the Atonement were planned long before the actual work of the Creation began.
While visiting the British Museum in London one day, I read a most unusual book. It is not scripture. It is an English translation of an ancient Egyptian manuscript. From it, I quote a dialogue between the Father and the Son.
Referring to His Father, Jehovah--the premortal Lord--says:
"He took the clay from the hand of the angel, and made Adam according to Our image and likeness, and He left him lying for forty days and forty nights without putting breath into him. And He heaved sighs over him daily, saying, 'If I put breath into this [man], he must suffer many pains.' And I said unto My Father, 'Put breath into him; I will be an advocate for him.' And My Father said unto Me, 'If I put breath into him, My beloved Son, Thou wilt be obliged to go down into the world, and to suffer many pains for him before Thou shalt have redeemed him, and made him to come back to his primal state.' And I said unto My Father, 'Put breath into him; I will be his advocate, and I will go down into the world, and will fulfil Thy command.'"
Although this text is not scripture, it reaffirms scriptures that teach of the deep and compassionate love of the Father for the Son, and of the Son for us--attesting that Jesus volunteered willingly to be our Savior and Redeemer.
The Lord God declared, "This is my work and my glory--to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man." He who, under direction of the Father, had created the earth, subsequently came into mortality to do the will of His Father and to fulfill all prophecies of the Atonement. His Atonement would redeem every soul from the penalties of personal transgression, on conditions that He set.
(Thas is sweet, makes you all warm and fuzzy inside. Swee eeee eeet :)
Sunday, May 01, 2005
Thursday, April 28, 2005
walking beside them
Carl had just proposed to Alyssa, and she had accepted the proposal!
They had decided to get married soon, and Carl knowing that his wife-to-be loved horses decided to purchase for her a new baby colt as a wedding gift. He went out and found the ‘perfect’ baby colt, purchased it and took it home. He then went about attempting to ‘break in’ the colt so that he might lead the colt around by a rope, and present the new colt to his wife ‘in style’.
Standing in his fence enclosed pasture, at home, he places a lasso around the colts neck, and attempted to walk the horse forward. Upon the rope reaching it’s length, the lasso tightened, and the rope was pulled from Carl’s hand. ‘Why wasn’t the horse moving along with him?’ Carl thought. Taking up the rope again, and getting a better hold upon it, Carl again started walking, and again the horse did not move with Carl. So when the rope became taut, he pulled a little more forcefully in an attempt to get the horse moving. The horse, instinctively, dug his heels in, and pulled against Carl’s attempt to pull him. ‘Fine you want to play’ thought Carl, who then proceeded to have a tug-o-war with the baby horse.
He pulled, and pulled, and actually was able to drag the horse across the dirt, and thin grass, of the pasture, but at times was also pulled by the horse as well. Unknown to Carl, Alyssa had stopped by to say hi, and she had proceeded to find him, and ended up, to lean on the fence around the pasture, and was observing the scene.
The tug-o-war continued, and Carl was getting frustrated, and tired as well. The Colt didn’t look tired at all, and Carl knew that the horse would soon easily 'win the war'. Knowing that he couldn’t allow the horse to think it was the master in this relationship, Carl started to jerk on the rope, instead of simply holding a constant pressure. The horse jerked back, and thus it continued for a while. Then Carl decided that maybe he should attempt to throw the horse off balance and win. So he started weaving back and forth while pulling. In do doing he did throw the horse off balance, and the horse was dropped to the ground onto his side.
Carl let go of the rope to run over and check on the welfare of his newly purchased ‘present to be’. The colt scrambled up easily, unhurt, and just fine. He then welcomed the soft voice of compliments, a loving rubdown, and the care Carl showed to him then.
Just then Carl noticed Alyssa leaning on the fence to which he stated.“You’re not suppose to see him till he’s trained, and ready to be your present”
To which she replied, “Looks like you’re doing a fine job at that too. Mind if I watch the rest of your ‘training’ him?”
“No I don’t mind” Carl stated, then proceeded to take up the lasso again, and walk forward with it once more. The second, Carl, again got the rope taut, and pulled on it once, the colt drop again to its side.
Laughter burst from Alyssa, and Carl had nothing to do but laugh himself. Again after the horse had scrambled to its ‘feet’, Carl was beside him, and ‘played the game’ of telling him what a beautiful horse he was, and rubbing him down.
Then it struck him. He continued to rub the horse down, and continued to speak praise in his ear. Then he started walking forward, and the horse started walking beside him! Making his was to the fence, he turned, and the horse turned too. He then proceeded to walk around the perimeter of the pasture. Three laps he made, and in so doing took up the rope easily, but just continued to walk beside the colt, giving him praise.
Stopping beside his wife-to-be, he helped Alyssa over the fence, handed her the rope, and together they, all three, walked around the pasture with no problems.
“Happy wedding gift” Carl stated as he handed Alyssa the rope.
“Thank you. He is beautiful, and you’ve done a wonderful job of training him”
If you want to make an impression on someone, rather then taking an aggressive stance and attempting to just force people into your way of thinking, it is much easier to befriend him or her, and then walk beside him or her on the journey. That’s what Christ has offered to do for us in our lives if we just allow Him to be beside us. I’ve even heard that when things in life get real rough, and they will, He is willing to carry us.
They had decided to get married soon, and Carl knowing that his wife-to-be loved horses decided to purchase for her a new baby colt as a wedding gift. He went out and found the ‘perfect’ baby colt, purchased it and took it home. He then went about attempting to ‘break in’ the colt so that he might lead the colt around by a rope, and present the new colt to his wife ‘in style’.
Standing in his fence enclosed pasture, at home, he places a lasso around the colts neck, and attempted to walk the horse forward. Upon the rope reaching it’s length, the lasso tightened, and the rope was pulled from Carl’s hand. ‘Why wasn’t the horse moving along with him?’ Carl thought. Taking up the rope again, and getting a better hold upon it, Carl again started walking, and again the horse did not move with Carl. So when the rope became taut, he pulled a little more forcefully in an attempt to get the horse moving. The horse, instinctively, dug his heels in, and pulled against Carl’s attempt to pull him. ‘Fine you want to play’ thought Carl, who then proceeded to have a tug-o-war with the baby horse.
He pulled, and pulled, and actually was able to drag the horse across the dirt, and thin grass, of the pasture, but at times was also pulled by the horse as well. Unknown to Carl, Alyssa had stopped by to say hi, and she had proceeded to find him, and ended up, to lean on the fence around the pasture, and was observing the scene.
The tug-o-war continued, and Carl was getting frustrated, and tired as well. The Colt didn’t look tired at all, and Carl knew that the horse would soon easily 'win the war'. Knowing that he couldn’t allow the horse to think it was the master in this relationship, Carl started to jerk on the rope, instead of simply holding a constant pressure. The horse jerked back, and thus it continued for a while. Then Carl decided that maybe he should attempt to throw the horse off balance and win. So he started weaving back and forth while pulling. In do doing he did throw the horse off balance, and the horse was dropped to the ground onto his side.
Carl let go of the rope to run over and check on the welfare of his newly purchased ‘present to be’. The colt scrambled up easily, unhurt, and just fine. He then welcomed the soft voice of compliments, a loving rubdown, and the care Carl showed to him then.
Just then Carl noticed Alyssa leaning on the fence to which he stated.“You’re not suppose to see him till he’s trained, and ready to be your present”
To which she replied, “Looks like you’re doing a fine job at that too. Mind if I watch the rest of your ‘training’ him?”
“No I don’t mind” Carl stated, then proceeded to take up the lasso again, and walk forward with it once more. The second, Carl, again got the rope taut, and pulled on it once, the colt drop again to its side.
Laughter burst from Alyssa, and Carl had nothing to do but laugh himself. Again after the horse had scrambled to its ‘feet’, Carl was beside him, and ‘played the game’ of telling him what a beautiful horse he was, and rubbing him down.
Then it struck him. He continued to rub the horse down, and continued to speak praise in his ear. Then he started walking forward, and the horse started walking beside him! Making his was to the fence, he turned, and the horse turned too. He then proceeded to walk around the perimeter of the pasture. Three laps he made, and in so doing took up the rope easily, but just continued to walk beside the colt, giving him praise.
Stopping beside his wife-to-be, he helped Alyssa over the fence, handed her the rope, and together they, all three, walked around the pasture with no problems.
“Happy wedding gift” Carl stated as he handed Alyssa the rope.
“Thank you. He is beautiful, and you’ve done a wonderful job of training him”
If you want to make an impression on someone, rather then taking an aggressive stance and attempting to just force people into your way of thinking, it is much easier to befriend him or her, and then walk beside him or her on the journey. That’s what Christ has offered to do for us in our lives if we just allow Him to be beside us. I’ve even heard that when things in life get real rough, and they will, He is willing to carry us.
Wednesday, April 27, 2005
A little bit-o-wisdom
"Wise is the man who says what needs to be said, but not all that could be said."
-Marvin J. Ashton.
-Marvin J. Ashton.
Addicted forever
This was written to a little friend who I told, in remark to her telling me a little about her ‘sins’, "you will always be addicted to the pleasures of the flesh". To which she responded something like: ‘well that’s a little bit of a downer’.
And I suppose it is a little, but at the same time, it’s not.
We have bodies of flesh and blood, and these bodies have cravings built into them, and yes those craving when uncontrolled can lead to sin, even to great sin. But we are not to be down over this, as it is part of the creation for which these bodies were made. We are suppose to feel those craving, even that urge to procreate, and “replenish the earth”, or in other words populate it.
There are wise words that can be taken from such a horrible song as ‘the discovery channel song’ by The Bloodhound gang.
Yes ‘you and me baby, aint nothing but mammals’ , but that doesn’t mean we should just breed mindlessly like the other animals for we are commanded to “put off the natural man” (Mosiah 3:19). We can’t feel bad, and condemn ourselves for the natural feelings of our body. Yet Satan certainly likes to make us feel bad IF we do give in, doesn’t he? Yet Satan has been defeated, yes he’s still having a hay-day now, but over all is he already defeated. Christ took upon him ALL of our sins, He did so willingly, then also willingly, gave up His life and took it up again. God our Father, has already allowed Christ to take upon Him our sins, past, present, and future. God already knows what it is we are going to do, and He already knows what sins we may commit. There is no reason for us to listen to the devils as they play the ‘you are such a bad person’ song over and over in our heads. As long as we can swallow our pride, speak to a Bishops (or another ordained man in the church, authorized to accept our repentance), confess all we can remember, shake ourselves from the dust; loose ourselves from the bands of thy neck (Isaiah 52:2; 2Nephi 8:25; 3Nephi 20:37), and then endure to the end, relying on those merits of Christ to save us, we’re saved!
For it is aferall faith on and in Christ that we are saved, even after all we can do.
And I suppose it is a little, but at the same time, it’s not.
We have bodies of flesh and blood, and these bodies have cravings built into them, and yes those craving when uncontrolled can lead to sin, even to great sin. But we are not to be down over this, as it is part of the creation for which these bodies were made. We are suppose to feel those craving, even that urge to procreate, and “replenish the earth”, or in other words populate it.
There are wise words that can be taken from such a horrible song as ‘the discovery channel song’ by The Bloodhound gang.
Yes ‘you and me baby, aint nothing but mammals’ , but that doesn’t mean we should just breed mindlessly like the other animals for we are commanded to “put off the natural man” (Mosiah 3:19). We can’t feel bad, and condemn ourselves for the natural feelings of our body. Yet Satan certainly likes to make us feel bad IF we do give in, doesn’t he? Yet Satan has been defeated, yes he’s still having a hay-day now, but over all is he already defeated. Christ took upon him ALL of our sins, He did so willingly, then also willingly, gave up His life and took it up again. God our Father, has already allowed Christ to take upon Him our sins, past, present, and future. God already knows what it is we are going to do, and He already knows what sins we may commit. There is no reason for us to listen to the devils as they play the ‘you are such a bad person’ song over and over in our heads. As long as we can swallow our pride, speak to a Bishops (or another ordained man in the church, authorized to accept our repentance), confess all we can remember, shake ourselves from the dust; loose ourselves from the bands of thy neck (Isaiah 52:2; 2Nephi 8:25; 3Nephi 20:37), and then endure to the end, relying on those merits of Christ to save us, we’re saved!
For it is aferall faith on and in Christ that we are saved, even after all we can do.
The secret origions of Munke2112
OK second attempt, stupid site lost my first one, need to learn to cut and paste to a temp doc still....
OK#2 you're here now on my new blogspot "munke2112.blogspot.com", and you're saying to yourself, what the heck is a munke2112? Well my Mom asked me that question once, and I explained it to her. Below is the edited message I sent to her
"It's a long story.
First way back when I was on the 'Hotline' for CrossLand Mortgage we had an administrator password rush2112. rush is a band, and 2112 was one of their albums. so rush2112 was our password. I give credit, for that, to either Kevin or Russ, two wanna be party-drunk all the time, programers from work.
Next somewhere along the line our group, the hotline, became known as the Monkey Farm. Given to us by our manager at the time J9 (Jeanine) She always told us to we could remember it as "J"and "Nine" hence J9 was born. The "Monkey Farm" was just a pet name, but was done away by Gary, the bigger boss. Something about worries over moral or image or something.
Last munke2112 came about when I was joined the network team, and John and I were looking for a new password for our routers. Monkey for our farm name 2112 for the old password. munke for spelling security reasons. (Password crack programs go through the entire dictionary so miss spelled words are safer.) Thus munke2112 was born. We never used it for a password, but I liked it so it became my username for email on Yahoo to start, then Hotmail, then everything."
And That's it! The secret origions of Munke2112. And now you know, and knowing is half the battle.
OK#2 you're here now on my new blogspot "munke2112.blogspot.com", and you're saying to yourself, what the heck is a munke2112? Well my Mom asked me that question once, and I explained it to her. Below is the edited message I sent to her
"It's a long story.
First way back when I was on the 'Hotline' for CrossLand Mortgage we had an administrator password rush2112. rush is a band, and 2112 was one of their albums. so rush2112 was our password. I give credit, for that, to either Kevin or Russ, two wanna be party-drunk all the time, programers from work.
Next somewhere along the line our group, the hotline, became known as the Monkey Farm. Given to us by our manager at the time J9 (Jeanine) She always told us to we could remember it as "J"and "Nine" hence J9 was born. The "Monkey Farm" was just a pet name, but was done away by Gary, the bigger boss. Something about worries over moral or image or something.
Last munke2112 came about when I was joined the network team, and John and I were looking for a new password for our routers. Monkey for our farm name 2112 for the old password. munke for spelling security reasons. (Password crack programs go through the entire dictionary so miss spelled words are safer.) Thus munke2112 was born. We never used it for a password, but I liked it so it became my username for email on Yahoo to start, then Hotmail, then everything."
And That's it! The secret origions of Munke2112. And now you know, and knowing is half the battle.
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