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Archive for June, 2009

The night of all nights of history
Began with the Pascal supper
Soon to end His earthly ministry
The Lord was preparing to offer…

A roasted lamb and butter herbs
Unleavened cakes and vinegar
The table was set for the passover meal
A last symbolic sacrifice before the one real

Jesus gave Himself- His body and blood
There to ransom for sins which forever flood
We eat in remembrance of His body
In Gethsemane and Calvary

Remembering the Savior’s Atonement
Elder David B. Haight
Ensign, Apr 1988, 7

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Fight My Battles

I see death all around me and misery and want
But, through the lord’s strength, foes like these will not daunt
For He’s given me the sword (to wield), the arm and the brain
That I might fight my battles when all seems in vain

Brigham Young said:

“I can see death, misery and want on the faces of this people. But some may say, ‘I have faith the Lord will turn them away.’ What ground have we to hope this? Have I any good reason to say to my Father in heaven, ‘Fight my battles,’ when He has given me the sword to wield, the arm and the brain that I can fight for myself? Can I ask Him to fight my battles and sit quietly down waiting for Him to do so? I cannot. I can pray the people to hearken to wisdom, to listen to counsel; but to ask God to do for me that which I can do for myself is preposterous to my mind.” (Brigham Young, Journal of Discourses).

After writing 1,000 poems, I am going to start writing a little prehistory of what triggers the writing of each poem:
I was spending the mornings parked at the library because it was shaded and quiet. With fields all around. Peaceful. Then, I saw three men walking towards me. The homeless people I see wandering by the Food For Less nearby. One came straight towards me, one to the front of the car and one to the back. Encircling. I casually continued to write and pretend to not be bothered. A white man with his shirt open said, “hey I see you sitting here every day, and we are wondering what you are doing?” I told them I’m Mormon and I write poetry. The white man said something about that Utah religion. And, the Samoan guy put his head in the passenger window with his arms resting on the door and hands inches from my purse- which looked more like a mail bag at this point because I had dozens of poems ready to mail out. I then proceeded to read a poem about hope that’s based on President’s Uchtdorf’s talk.
No matter how bleak the sky
Or how threatening the storm
Well above, it’s brilliant to fly
Midst the sun and the lift of transport

Yet… there’s an experience that surpasses
As we lift up our hearts in prayer
For then we’ve a glorious horizon
Bright with assurance of God’s care

President Dieter F. Uchtdorf
Prayer and the Blue Horizon
Ensign, June 2009, 5 (From where we are there is nearly a view of the airport also.)

So with the white guy in one window, the Samoan in the other and an African American man listening in I was interrupted by the white guy and the Samoan said no- let her finish. And he looked at me and said it sounded like the Bible. I finished and told them there is always hope and never forget to pray. The Samoan said, “I see you are from California. I am from Sea Side. I am a Samoan. I told him of my love for the Samoans. They have such big hearts and always smell good. I gave him a bottle of cologne- a random thing I had in the car because my step son was going to throw it away (and I rescued it). He was pleased and walked away.
The white man stayed and told me of his sorrows. He was homeless. Had been evicted for having too many friends over. He was wanting sympathy and said he was hungry. I gave him some trail mix. He said he couldn’t take it. I said, but you’re hungry take it. The African American man did and said “then I will, you’re crazy man” and walked off to join the Samoan. The white man told me he still pays his mother’s rent. And he wouldn’t get money until the 30th. He asked if I would buy him some cigarettes. I told him I don’t smoke and this is America- we should be healthy. (I say random things) He put his fist out with tattoos on the knuckles for us to knuckle bump- a friendship thing…and as He wasn’t interested in me anymore, he walked off. Looking at him join his buddies, I saw the Samoan had the trail mix and the African American man had the cologne. Another wonderful Samoan trait- they are generous. Just then my phone rang and I started my car and left. Thankful that I was still alive and strangely also for the experience. I had been praying for the homeless and pondering the pursuit of Zion and the inequity of life.
So, when I told my husband this story ( I waited a day because I hesitated to tell him) he told me there is a reason he gave me a cell phone and that I should have rolled up my windows and locked my doors and proceeded to drive off even if they were encircling the car. Then pretty much what Brigham Young said in this quote. Which I read this morning and immediately proceeded to write this poem! It took longer to write this explanation that the poem. …

Another interesting note: is the article I read the Brigham Young quote is lost to me. It was stating that we should prepare ourselves by having plenty of supplies, including those dust masks, and things like separate computers for those who are in quaranteen so they can still socialize- kids don’t do separation very well. Except they are great at forgetting about mom who is to be left alone. And mom is actually in need of someone to check on her if she needs anything- like a reminder to drink something because her fever is cooking. So the writer’s point was: we are supposed to be self- reliant, prepared, and educated about the h1n1 virus.

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A Lost Key

A little key
Was tucked away
Where can it be?
I said all day

I looked inside
My favorite places
Where would I hide
That key to my cases?

Then finally
I knelt in prayer
Continually
I pled there

And with a thought
I stood right up
It was in a spot
By my drinking cup!

With my search done
I knew what to do
In the name of the Son
I thanked Father anew

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Time, something we all do have
And let it thus be true
It’s good works that we’re at
For there’s so much we can do

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Our country under God
Raised for righteousness
On this beautiful sod
May He be found in us

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With a leap of faith
I jumped right in
It was not fate
That we met therein

When two unite
And share in sorrow
There is power’s might
For brighter tomorrows

So come what may
Let us be heard
That other’s might pray
With faith filled words

In a land that treasures
Freedom to speak
It’s but our pleasure
To express and to seek

please read life when life is cheap
see label below

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When Life is Cheap

When life is cheap
And times are hard
You dare not sleep
Lest a life they discard…

The police entered
And got my attention
With a poor babe’s head dented
Their ounce of prevention

Held by the ankles
Then slammed on its head
A life they did dangle
Then tossed away dead

It should be no wonder
We’re all urged to pray
For countries crushed under
Tyranny’s heel today

Our prophet has urged
Let our prayers be heard
That closed hearts might turn
And let in the gospel word

For though the blood that’s shed
Does cry out today
Naught to God is said
As they know not how to pray

May those who rule
Learn a better way
Life is our school
And power falls away

A leader today
Is a prisoner tomorrow
When tyranny slays
And brings God great sorrow

…And Falun Gong
God bless you
For your people long
The spiritual too

People seeking
But know not where to find
Are now gathering
With likeness of mind

You’ve been arrested
And sent to labor camps
Your organs invested
As tyranny more clamps

Your persecution
Has been heard
Through executions
And the spoken word

It’s our charge, to pray
For easing your trouble
That love today
Might make us humble

For we have taken
What cheaply has been made
And we need to awaken
To the price that’s truly paid

Everything’s made in China
It is an empire as such
But, where does that find us?
We’ve just accumulated much

Let our pursuits
Be for what is lasting
Unto nourishing fruits
As our eyes to God are casting

Let our our hands
Get back to work
To understand
Laborer’s perks

Strong backs that toil
Value possessions
And don’t let them spoil
They’re gift’s expression

Each thing that we own
Is but a gift from God
And pray this be known
On the Chinese sod

Let them come and sample
Our country that’s been blessed
Let us be an example
Of where gratitude’s expressed

Each time we hold something
That’s come from a sweat shop
May we hold it treasuring
The laborer who never stops

Think of their hunger
And lack of day’s sunshine
Then too remember
To pray for them in kind

Think of the prayers
That would go up to heaven
If for each thing we purchased
We’d said a prayer to make it even

I went to the library and I saw beautiful paintings that said it all.
A Holocaust in China.
July 20, 1999- May 20, 2005

2300 dead from torture
millions illegally arrested
200,000 sent to labor camps
without trial
1,000 abused in mental hospitals

I believe in the power of one- that I can do something. I spent all that afternoon, which would have been spent writing my poetry, reading books about China and falling in love with the country and its people. My heart has turned to them. They are so much a part of us and there must be a better way. My thoughts were of this people all night and I awoke to this poem the next day.
And offer my faith, prayers and talents for these persecuted people.

Please forward

Please click on above title- when life is cheap- to be linked to the Church News regarding our prophet asking us to pray for other nations. I came across this and had forgotten or missed his urge for us to do so. And it hit me that I should. And the next day I went to a random library to get out of the heat because I have only a nightly room while waiting for our house. And it is hot in Las Vegas- need I say more.
I hope this poem inspires you to pray for nations who at this time are without the gospel, and religious freedoms for that matter…

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