Invitation

Come
 

Twas only after their journey-

A long and arduous one,

That Mary and Joseph were blessed

With the presence of God’s Son.

We too must take a journey

With humble and hopeful hearts,

To reach Him who’s patiently waiting

All blessings to impart.

Where Is YOURS?

Focus

Joseph, do you see them,

Those people standing near?

They have come to celebrate

Our son’s special day this year. 

They’re gathering together

So they can honor Him

To celebrate His birthday

Complete with all the trim. 

The mood here is so cheery;

The people are so kind.

They are the happiest people

You or I will ever find. 

Just look at all the gifts

They’ve brought here for our son.

It seems as if they love Him;

They know what He has done. 

He served them all so selflessly

Each day throughout the years;

He has loved and healed them

And wiped away their tears. 

He will be so honored;

This wasn’t just a whim.

Oh wait–what are they doing?

I guess they weren’t for Him. 

A Painful But Necessary Process

Reflection

Close observation,

The most intense heat;

Silver is purified,

The process is complete.

Close observation,

I’m driven to my knees;

And He’s a little closer

To purifying me.

There was a group of women in a bible study group, reading the book of Malachi. As they began reading chapter three, they came across verse three, which says: “He will sit as a refiner and purifier of silver”. This verse puzzled the women and they wondered what this statement meant about the character and nature of God. One of the women offered to find out about the process of refining silver and get back to the group at their next bible study.

That week this woman called up a silversmith and made an appointment to watch him work. She didn’t mention anything about the reason for her interest in silver beyond her curiosity about the process of refining silver. As she watched the silversmith, he held a piece of silver over the fire to let it heat up. He explained that in refining silver, one needed to hold the silver in the middle of the fire where the flames were hottest so as to burn away all the impurities. The woman thought about God holding each of us in such a hot spot, then she thought again about the verse that says “He sits as a refiner and purifier of silver”. She asked the silversmith if it was true that he had to sit there in front of the fire the whole time the silver was being refined. The man answered that yes, he not only had to sit there holding the silver, but he had to keep his eyes on it the entire time it was in the fire; for if the silver was left even a moment too long in the flames, it would be destroyed.

The woman was silent for a moment. Then she asked the silversmith, “How do you know when the silver is fully refined?” He smiled at her and answered, “Oh that’s the easy part…when I see my image reflected in it then I know it is refined”.

If today you are feeling the heat of the fire, remember that God has His eye on you and will keep His hand on you and watch over you until He can see His image in your countenance.

Sometimes This Seems So Impossible

Stand Aside

Overwhelming sadness

Grips my heart and mind;

I am searching everywhere

But peace I cannot find.

I feel something ominous

Consume my weary soul;

As deepening fear and panic

Spin my thoughts out of control.

Desperately I utter

My requests for some relief;

While doubting the validity

Of my incessant grief.

Then quietly the answer comes,

“My child…change your view;

Let the burden you carry go,

This isn’t about you.

You are not that powerful,

Give up your selfish pride;

This test is for someone else…

You must stand aside.”

  

At times I find myself feeling extreme sadness, anger, or sometimes even fear, about how circumstances surrounding other people are affecting me. The emotion consumes me and I find I’ve made myself to be a “victim” of their circumstances. Time and time again, it’s “all about me.” Through some very personal experiences, I’ve learned there’s wisdom in learning not to internalize other people’s trials. While it’s expected of us, by the Savior, to have compassion…to mourn with those that mourn and comfort those that stand in need of comfort…we must not stand in the way while He lifts and comforts, and strengthens and teaches in a way that only He has the power to do.

Not A Poem...But A True Story

SEEDS

Her name was Julie. She was a cashier at a local grocery chain I frequently shopped at. Young and petite with short honey blonde hair, she had large striking eyes that glistened when she smiled. She had a fair and seemingly flawless complexion and a smile that glowed like the moon on a clear dark night. Over a period of time we came to know a little about each other through short conversations we had while she rang up an assortment of gluten free items I had come in to purchase. She was married and had two children she absolutely adored. She often had photographs of them with her that she’d quickly take out to show me; I knew from the look in her eyes when she spoke about them, she loved them more than she had words to express. A few times I was able to share simple testimony of the importance of the family unit. One day I asked if she had a church she belonged to. She replied that she and her husband attended a church in the community together. I quickly summoned all of my courage and told her I attended The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints then invited her to bring her family and attend one Sunday in the near future. She thanked me but declined, stating that she was quite pleased with the church she attended. Deep in my heart I felt she would have a chance to hear and accept the gospel of Jesus Christ. However, I was not prepared for the circumstances which would afford her that opportunity.

 On the evening of June 3, 2005, the local news jolted me from my state of semi-awareness, demanding my immediate and undivided attention as the news anchor announced that Julie and her children had been murdered…presumably by her husband. I was too shocked for tears; my mind went crazy with denial…there must be a mistake. They have her confused with someone else. This just cannot be true. In my head I tried to rationalize in so many ways, but my eyes verified the truth of what my ears refused to believe when a photograph of her family flashed blatantly on the TV screen. I was too horrified to hear or see any more, and quickly tried to divert my attention back to preparing dinner. But I’d lost my appetite and it seemed a hopeless cause.

Two days later, I boarded a flight for a previously planned trip to Salt Lake City, Utah. On that beautiful late spring afternoon, my sister and I visited Temple Square, where we soon found ourselves wandering toward the North Visitor’s Center. Upon entering, we slowly made our way up the ramp that led to the statue The Christus. Suddenly overcome with fatigue and a jumble of emotion, I quickly found a place to sit. In an attempt to silence my weary mind and calm my troubled heart, I looked up into the face of the Savior and let a flood of tears wash down my face. Memories of my friend Julie flashed through my mind, and though I really just barely knew her, the hole her death had created in my heart had become too enormous to bear. This was the first opportunity I’d had to contemplate that horrific event, but the questions that barraged my mind had more to do with her “here and now” rather than the circumstances surrounding her death and the deaths of her children. “Is she afraid? Who are they with? Did someone she know come to ‘get them’? Are they being taken care of? Did she know I counted her as a friend?” As a youth I’d sat through many lessons that focused on the life hereafter, and I’d already experienced the loss of loved ones, but somehow knowing Julie’s life had been violently snatched from her shook my faith in ways I had not expected. 

Softly and quietly, the peace and comfort I was so desperately seeking came. “Do not weep for her,” the Spirit whispered to me. “She is finally safe.” Slowly, my eyes were drawn to the outstretched arms of the Savior as I heard a sweet and loving message of reassurance. Those arms…His arms…had held her and her children; had comforted them and escorted them through the passageways of heaven to a place where they would be encircled in love and enveloped in the security of peace. They were in good hands; they are in His hands.

Always Remember...Never Forget

Humility

Pain, Heartache

Illness, Grief

He knows them all–

Art thou greater than He?

How well He knows us. How well He knows our struggles.

Do You Know How Much He Loves You?

Scars

Some scars deep and ugly

Are hidden well from view

While others stand out cruelly

No matter what we do. 

Reminders of our lessons

In patience and endurance;

And strength to overcome

With Heaven’s reassurance.

Some years ago on a hot summer day in South Florida a little boy decided to go for a swim in the old swimming hold behind his house. In a hurry to dive into the cool water, he ran out the back door, leaving behind shoes, socks, and shirt as he went. He flew into the water, not realizing that as he swam toward the middle of the lake, an aligator was swimming toward the shore. His mother in the house was looking ou the window, saw the two as they got closer and closer together. In utter fear, she ran toward the water, yelling to her son as loudly as she could. Hearing her voice, the little boy became alarmed and made a U-turn to swim to his mother. It was too late. Just as he reached her, the alligator reached him. From the dock, the mother grabbed her little boy by the arms just as the alligator snatched his legs. That began an incredible tug-of-war between the two. The alligator was much stronger than the mother, but the mother was much too passionate to let go. A farmer happened to drive by, heard her screams, raced from his truck, took aim and shot the alligator. Remarkably, after weeks and weeks in the hospital, the little boy survived. His legs were extremely scarred by the vicious attack of the animal. And, on his arms, were deep scratches were his mother's fingernails dug into his flesh in her effort to hang on to the son she loved. The vewspaper reporter, who interviewed the boy after the trauma, asked if he would show him his scars. The boy lifted his pant legs. And then, with obvious pride, he said to the reporter, "But look at my arms. I have great scars on my harms, too. I have them because my Mom wouldn't let go."

You and I can identify with that little boy. We have scars, too. No, not from an alligator, but the scars of a painful past. Some of those scars are unsightly and have caused us deep regret. But, some wounds, my friend, are because God has refused to let go. In the midst of your struggle He's been there holding on to you. The scriptures teach that God loves you. You are a child of God. He wants to protect you and provide for you in every way. But sometimes we foolishly wade into dangerous situations, not knowing what lies ahead. The swimming hole of life is filled with  with peril--and we forget that the enemy is waiting to attack. That's when the tug-of-war begins and if you have the scars of His love on your arms be very, very grateful. He did not and will not ever let you go.

The Choice Is Yours

Inventory

Looking on the surface

One would never know

If I will hesitate

Or if I’ll choose to grow.

No one knows my struggles;

No one hears me cry

In the lonely darkness

As I’m pleading to know why.

In that desperate silence

The choice is mine to make;

In a learning moment

Do I allow my heart to break?

Or do I pray for strength

To finish in this race;

Not quit, but go the distance

No matter how I place.

Each time I meet temptation

I ask myself once more

If I have what it takes;

Then I dig deeper and explore.

How Long Must He Wait?

Patience

My eyes fly open;

The race is on!

Before I know it

The hours are gone.

Worn out I sleep

And one more day,

He waits for me

To kneel and pray.

In One Single Moment

Resolve

For one tiny single moment

The hands of time stand still;

As I ponder at the crossroads

 Do I cave or bend my will?        

There is obvious opposition…

The choice is mine to make;

I will have the final say

If I fail it’s my mistake.

If I see the glass half empty,

Choose sunshine over clouds;

All depends on how I think

What mind-set I allow.

How positive my attitude,

The world cannot define;

 No one can decide for me…

The power to choose is mine.