Category: Faith

In my search to find myself, I’ve traveled many roads.
The road to fame and fortune sometime can be cold.
For to gain fame and fortune, some men give their souls,
And join a plastic world where truth can never go.
Some lie and cheat to gain success,
And find our when they’re old,
They can’t take money with them.
This thought will leave them cold.

Another road some travel is this road I’m on.
I leave fame and fortune in search of peace of mind.
I look in all directions, sometimes I feel I’m blind.
For of all the roads I’ve traveled, this is the hardest kind.
Step one on this road of mine is the hardest one of all:
Kick out the hate that’s in me and find love for all.
If I can make this first step, the rest will fall in place.
I find you look for good in every single face.
For love breeds love and hate breeds hate,
Or so someone has said,
And every single person has both inside their head.
It would be kind of simple if I could take a knife,
And cut the hate that’s in me and throw it from my life.
Then think no need for guns or bombs, no need to fight a war.
For love’s the key to Heaven. Love opens every door.

Does anyone out there remember President Spencer W. Kimball’s plea for us to “Get around to it; Do it!”? After he preached this over the pulpit, the church manufactured some flat, round things with words printed on it. I can’t remember how they spelled the words, but I believe it was “tuit”. Thus someone might say, “Do you have a round tuit? Somebody refresh my memory!

Anyway, we wrote a poem about getting around to it:

Get around to it; Do it, when we choose a righteous goal.
As we choose what is right, then we will surely grow.
Throughout this life of joy and sorrow, we each must choose our way.
The choices we have made determine who we are today.

Let us live our lives right now. Now’s the time to do it right.
When evil temptations surround us, we can look unto the light.
We can say a silent prayer, and the Holy Ghost will know.
The strength will flow from Heaven, and we will surely grow.

Our choice to be baptized is the right thing to do.
The gift of the Holy Ghost can help us to stay true.
It’s up to each of us to fade, or grow in truth’s pure light.
The more we read and learn of Christ, we grow in Heaven’s might.

Remember to get around to it. Study, fast and pray.
Commit to god to do it each and every day.
Repent and ask forgiveness whenever we are weak.
When we are sincere and humble, god helps all who truly seek.

p,.s. Our weakness turns to strength as we serve the poor, sick and meek.

Ether 12:27
Matthew 3: 13-15

Last week Bob (dressed in Santa attire) and I (like Mrs. Santa) gathered up three of our grandchildren, who wore elf hats, and visited an assisted living center. Our 10-year old grand daughter, Parleigh, wrote a poem for the occasion. I was most impressed, and have chosen it for our poem this week:

Decorations, feel cheer,
Christmas time is finally here.
Christmas wreath, mistletoe,
Star on top, lots of snow.
Ornaments and evergreen,
Polish angels ’til they’re clean.
Snowman, cookies, flying reindeer,
Santa, sleigh bells, stockings cheer.
Garland, presents, family & friend.
Never let your happiness end.

Presents and stockings are okay,
But what about the manger filled with hay?
On a silent, chilly night,
A child born, filled with light.
A manger for the Lord of Earth,
Who blessed the world with his birth.

Some shepherds, wise men (far, not near),
Came to see and feel and hear.
The star on the tree is the Christmas star,
The shepherds followed from afar.
Praise and follow Christ the Lord,
For kindness, love is his sword.
He sacrificed and died for us,
So must we sin and hate and cuss?
Enjoy your presents by the fire,
But remember Jesus and God are the ones you admire.

Many years ago, I rocked my 3-month old firstborn baby boy, and pondered the spirit I could see in his eyes. I was overcome with gratitude and awe, and penned this poem/song:

I know of a baby just as small as you,
Born in a country that the shepherds knew.
A host of angels sang a song to him.
Birds chirped praises and ox kept time.
Stars shone brightly on the night divine
For the little boy born in Bethlehem.

He was born that night for you and me,
So we could grow to perfect be,
and live in joy forever, together.

See the star high up on the Christmas tree,
Filling our hearts with a glow so heavenly.
The packages, tinsel and shiny bows
Remind us of the gifts so long ago,
Giv’n to the babe in the manger hay,
For the very first time on Christmas Day.

He was born that night for you and me
So we could grow to perfect be,
And live in joy forever, together.

And now as I rock my baby tenderly,
I see in his eyes a spark of divinity.
I think of the babe of Bethlehem
Born to crown his fellowmen
And set us free to sing in joy
In remembrance of Mary’s baby boy.

He was born that night for you and me
So we could grow to perfect be,
And live in joy forever, together.

I entitled this painting “Silent Night” in an attempt to visualize–“Silent Night, Holy Night. Shepherds quake at the sight. Glories stream from heaven afar. Heav’nly hosts sing alleluia.”

This time of year, this holiday season, really is magical. There seems to be a warmth that comes from the heart and overtakes us. We are more charitable, kind, happy, tolerant, and grateful. There really is a spirit to Christmas that has nothing to do with shopping or gift giving. I believe it is the spirit of Christ that is generously poured out, and I do wish everyday could be like that.

When Christmas comes with winter’s snow,
Each family has it’s certain glow.
The children’s eyes shine like the star
Three wise men used to guide afar
In search of the young Prince of Earth,
Born to Mary of virgin birth.

If there were but one day to use,
And God gave me the right to choose,
I’m sure my choice would always be
The Lord’s birthday eternally.

For after Christmas Day is through
And spring creeps in with green and blue.
As Christmas Day fades into dust
And man makes room for mortal lust,
He turns back to his life of sin,,
Outside he smiles, but cries within.

If there were but one day to use,
And God gave me the right to choose,
I’m sure my choice would always be
The Lord’s birthday eternally.

I know the way that I must go, the rules that I must keep.
But the road is hard, and in some places dark and steep.
Just let me sit and rest awhile, and turn my back away.
But then the road grows longer still; I find that I must say,
“If I had a hand to rest in mine, that yonder hill I might could climb.
The road much easier would be, if I had someone to walk with me.”
And lo, my hand, it reaches out, and many hands in answer shout,
“Just take my hand and trust in me. I’ll lead you there, I’ll stay with thee.”

Inspiration comes to us when we learn to find
Those quiet sacred moments that ease our troubled mind.
At dawn before the rush begins of another care-worn day,
When we truly try to listen, when we sincerely pray.

We can strive to have a constant prayer linger in our heart
And watch out for those temptations that distract us from truth’s art
And lead us into pathways full of sorrow, pain and sin,
Yet, if we ask in these dark places, inspiration will come in.

As we climb above the ‘rat race’, inspiration helps us grow.
It’s the sacred thread that connects us to our Father’s wondrous soul.
Nature flows with inspiration, as each butterfly flows by,
We can see it in the eve, in the colors of the sky.

In the words of holy prophets, or our Lord Christ’s inspiring life,
As we meditate upon holy scriptures, we climb above all earthly strife,
And more threads entwine together between us and our holy God,
Until the thread becomes a cord and we grasp the iron rod.

Inspiration’s a spiritual muscle; the more we use it, it will grow.
We must each learn how to listen to this music for the soul.
We pray that we may listen more at work, church and play,
So our Lord’s sweet inspiration will grow stronger every day.

I woke up this morning totally un-excited about the day.  The thought of getting up and going to the gym for a workout put me back to sleep.  Perhaps it’s the age-old ‘Monday Blaaas’.  Anyway, it reminded me of this poem:

 

Foot dragons–we all must face each day.

They wrap around our feet at work, and trip us in our play.

They come in the form of doubts and fears upon one’s troubled mind.

With dead-end thoughts like, “I can’t” or “Tomorrow I will be kind.”

 

Foot dragons cause us to drag our feet and hang our heads down low.

They tear holes in our confidence and chase hope from our soul.

How can we stop these fearful doubts that keep us from our goals?

Must we step out of comfort zones if we are going to grow?

 

Can we pray for courage and then take the leap of faith?

Will dragons of depression fade before God’s grace?

Will we quit dragging our way through life and really start to grow

Beyond our selfish comfort zones, if God lifts and guides our soul?

 

Let’s strive to choose lofty goals and pray for heaven’s grace,

And ask for strength to overcome the trials we must face,

That through our Lord’s eternal love, we can serve human kind,

And make this world a better place, for all to seek and find.