When I was fourteen years old, I was ask by a man I respected to commit to serving a mission. I accepted this challenge and used the next 5 years to prepare to serve a mission.
My Mom and I entered in a covenant. When I prepared, myself, to serve a mission she would support me. This was a big commitment on her part. We were not a wealthy family. Though, my Mom, had not attended services in at least 10 years, she practiced the Gospel of Forgiveness
Priesthood is the power to act in the name of god. This authority was given to Joseph Smith by John the Baptist, the same person that baptized Jesus Christ.
This same authority has been passed down from man to man by the laying on of hands. I was ordained by my Bishop, Glen Owen Waite when I turned 16 years old.
The church has a lay Priesthood and all worthy men in our church receive this authority. I was ordained, a priest, by my bishop because my Father had stopped attending church. My Father had ordained me a Deacon and Teacher. I was ordained an Elder, by my beloved uncle, Deloye Grant Herzog, when I turned 18.
The life and Death of Gloria
On Her Death
Her Death, We speak not of;
Shall it be not her life's shadow;
What shadow she doeth cast'
What light is the source their of?.
that casteth forth;
On her death.
To start an exploration.
I met Gloria Hearn in a Hospital. She was receiving treatment for brain cancer. This cancer would end Gloria's life. Gloria told me, the person who lead her to the L.D.S. Church, was was a chain smoking non active member of the church.
On death , or life
They, lived with it
Or, It with them
It was their,
with them.
With them,
Always.
Like an unwelcome dinner guest,
it comes.
This death
Alone, leaves it not.
When it does,
A beloved then too.
Together,
They, return not.
It comes again,
With out shame.
Ask it not,
Then to leave,
Remain it must,
This unwelcome guest.
For to live with death
Is to live the same.
To heal in faith
We have a Priesthood Ordinance. It is a blessing with Olive Oil and sealing with the Priesthood. I offered this ordinance to Gloria. I did not to want appear as a faith healer.
I wanted to see Gloria enter the covenant of Baptism
I wanted, to see, her conversion, or turning back to God.
I did not want to see a woman, who was dying, not one grasping for life.
She was Baptized after I transferred to my next area.
When I called to check on her, after I was home, I learned she had died.
We may not see the many hidden hands and ways God uses to bless his children.
"... it is quite possible that God’s purpose is something different from the purpose of either party; and yet the human instrumentalities, working just as they do, are of the best adaptation to effect his purpose."
(Collected Works of Abraham Lincoln, edited by Roy P. Basler.)
ON Mommas’ Afghan.
Momma loved to knit afghan’s. They helped her to pass the time when she was watching television. Her Momma taught her how to crochet as a young child. I can remember many hours watching her crochet. She had crocheted so long she no longer watched her stitching, it was a mechanical motion more like walking or chewing gum. I wonder if it helped her to think.
Momma decided each of her children needed a good heavy afghan. She had collected many small balls of yarn from previous projects. The afghan’s were heavy. They had a heavy double stitch, one color on each side. The afghan were so heavy they were best used in the winter.
Each afghan required a year to complete. She worked on those afghans for four years. Each year one of her children received an afghan for Christmas. I wonder if she thought about her children as she was knitting each one of them their afghan. One child could not read well and had difficulty in school. He was color blind and had trouble telling his colors apart. One children read well but had difficulty speaking to people his own age. He never dated much, but was fortunate to find a good woman who understood him. One child never ate enough and had to be reminded when it was time to eat. This child still struggles with her weight and is now developing M.S. One child struggled with her first marriage and lived with Mom for a couple years. Mom helped her to raise her sons until a man came along who loved her boys and adopted them as his own. They now have five more children and how do they keep her busy.
Momma married young and grew up with her children. Her husband was a challenge. Signs of high functioning Autism and hyperactivity are present in the male line of his family. Momma would never have understood these words she just knew Dad had a tough time filtering his thoughts. He spoke out in inappropriate times and in inappropriate places. My Dad and his Father were forbidden to be in the Smith Brother Lumber Company together. One of them at a time was more than a handful.
Each fall my wife pulls the afghan out of the closet and puts is on our bed. I love to fell warm and comforted by it’s weight.
The afghan reminds of my mother and her life. The afghan is no longer perfect like it was when my mother gave it to me. A few years ago I snagged it on a piece of furniture. Their is a small stitch torn out of one side. My mamma's life was like this afghan. It was no loner perfect like it had been when her Momma gave life to her. Even though this afghan is no longer perfect it is still functional and fulfills its purpose. I have ask my wife to repair the snagged. My wife is skilled in the art of crochet. She tells me it is not possible to repair the snag. Even if she did repair the afghan it would no longer be the afghan my mother crocheted. As the year go by I learn to appreciate the afghan for it beauty and its flaw. It becomes more real with time like Margery Williams Velveteen rabbit (see. The Velveteen Rabbit or How Toys Become Real )
(note insert reading from book)
On television, and cheap whiskey
She consumed television,
like cheap whiskey.
To mask this pain,
We now, both share
The pack of cigarettes,
she kept, waiting in the car.
It calmed her nerves
To Drag the car,
and the cigarette.
She knelt at an alter,
the altar to her God.
To make this covenant,
with her God,
that she would carry my father's burden,
Like a thorn in her flesh.
Like her God carried,
so long ago,
like a crown made of thorns
This was their covenant marriage.
Helpmeets they were,
they completed each other.
Mom died a few years ago
in helping my, Father
I carry the burden.
I live in her world.
In understanding my father,
I understand myself.
I recognize the source of her pain.
She deeply loved my father,
and never wanted the world to see,
the man she knew and loved.
My wife and I knelt at an alter
with our children too.
We made a covenant,
that comes with a crown of thorns.
Someday, when our children,
have children.
I hope they learn to live,
and luv in our world too.
To luv...a choice ?!
The choice is to luv,
to this I do see ?
To choose thus I must?
Though painful it be.
This pain then it brings,
To me it does now.
A lesson to learn
A gift to bestow.
On a "Highway 20 Ride"
I ride east every other Friday but if I had it my way
Days would not be wasted on this drive
And I want so bad to hold you
Son, there's things I haven't told you
Your mom and me just couldn't get along
So I'll drive
And I think about my life
And wonder why I'll slowly die inside
Everytime I turn that truck around, right at the Georgia line
and I count the days and the miles back home to you on that Highway 20 ride
A day might come and you'll realize that if you could see through my eyes
There was no other way to work it out
And a part of you might hate me
But son please don't mistake me
For a man that didn't care at all
So I drive
And I think about my life
And wonder why I'll slowly die inside
Every time I turn that truck around, right at the Georgia line
and I count the days and the miles back home to you on that Highway 20 ride
So when you drive
And the years go flying by
I hope you smile
If I ever cross your mind
It was a pleasure of my life
And I cherished every time
And my whole world
It begins and ends with you
On that Highway 20 ride....
Writer(s): Zachry Brown, Wyatt Durrette
Copyright: Angelika Music
Over 25 five years we have been married now. I have been with her now longer then my mother. Together we dance, together and apart.
To Dance, The choice,
Together and apart.
Like two beta fish, Locked in a distance, embrace.
Together, and apart.
...
Found, her hair,
in my wallet,
Today, To be carried, for so long.
Together, and apart
like she has carried me, for so long.
Why do I carry, It.
Why does she carry,Me.
Daily, We dance.
"The Class"
Dance class, once we tried, together.
Together, we do not dance.
but dance we do, Together and apart.
and yet I have her, with me
Always, The hair, the dance.
Together, and apart.
On poetry, muse and Milton
I asketh It still
The poetry,
from whence doeth it come.
Yet heal'th it does,
And renews again.
My muze,
Maybe Milton,
He is
You may not know anger to the point of despair until you have taken a serrated steak knife and tried to shave the skin off of your forearms. I lied to you, I did not fall off my bike, I was pushed beyond the point of despair and knew not the way to return.
to rest then mine anger, her sleeping their by.
to their now she lies.
to sleep then this morn.
to this leave I now
her sleeping their on.
no more do I mourn,
to rest I do I leave
this anger, this morn,
to sleep it there'by
to this may it rest
her sleeping there'by.
"Gladness may make a man forget his thanksgiving; misery drives him to his prayers. For we are not yet, we are only becoming. ...there are two door-keepers to the house of prayer, and Sorrow is more on the alert to open than her grandson Joy"
(Hope of the Gospel; George Macdonald, ch 10)
On being like Job, and on the return
If I were lead to hell,
Not of my accord,
Would you be with me?
Would you hold my hand,
And sing sweet lullabies,
Of comfort to me.
Thou knowest the end,
And the beginning.
What must I learn,
Being driven to Hell,
Like Job, or Virgil.
Thou standest by me,
As a true friend.
Of free will then comes the choice,
But not the consequences.
Never alone, am I,
Or far from thee,
And thy thoughts.
(Inspired from reading of "The Sparrow", Maria Doria Russell,1996)
The Church as an A.A. Meeting
To sin, the choice,
This I have made.
Sin is a choice
And to this I do.
Of ignorance comes,
the transgression.
But this sin,
I must choose.
Of foreknowledge, And desire.
I have chosen this, Sin,
for so long. A pattern it is,
And I know no other.
Other sinners, Must I seek.
Like two drunks, In an A.A. meeting.
Will Bill and Bob, Help me to change.
To sin no more, A day at a time.
Then is this, The church real,
The Body of Christ.
Sinners in a great AA meeting.
