On God inviting Noah in to the Ark, that became a temple

 

God invited Noah into the Ark for protection. He creates arks today for us to dwell in for safety.  Our temples today may be one of those arks.  Genesis 7:1

I began attending church on Sunday when I was 12 years old. When I was fourteen, I felt a desire to gain a testimony. I found the Standard Works not interesting to read.  The standard works included The Bible, The Book of Mormon, The Doctrine and Covenants, and The Pearl of Great Price. I love to study history.  I was given a copy of Joseph Smith History of The Church.  I read and journaled about what I was learning. 

With this scripture study, I gained a desire to live a better life. I gained a desire to live a more moral life.  My family was participating in some activities that were not morally correct.  I wanted to be an influence in helping them to live a more ethical and joyful life.

I love my family and do not want to shame or disgrace them.  I came to an understanding that God could set apart and dedicate places where he could dwell with his children. I wanted my bedroom to become a place like that in my parent's home.  I dedicated my bedroom to be a place of sanctuary like the temple in the center of our town—the temple built by grandfathers where God would dwell with his children.  

I think God invited me to create this temple and to dwell in this temple as he invited Noah into the Ark.  The Ark became a temple for his family and animals to dwell with God.

on his adoption of Milton, and the question of scripture

Can a book,
though it be revelation,
be considered scripture,.
If it be not adopted,
by a faith community.

Thus begins his love, and study, of Milton,
and his Paradise Lost, then Regained

Forever then trapped,
shall he remain,
in its stygian pool,
the remainder of his days.

Paradise Lost Book III

Thee I re-visit now with bolder wing,[13]
Escap't the Stygian Pool, though long detain'd
In that obscure sojourn, while in my flight [ 15 ]
Through utter and through middle darkness borne
With other notes then to th' Orphean Lyre
I sung of Chaos and Eternal Night,
Taught by the heav'nly Muse to venture down
The dark descent, and up to reascend, [ 20 ]
Though hard and rare: thee I revisit safe,
And feel thy sovran vital Lamp; but thou
Revisit'st not these eyes, that rowle in vain
To find thy piercing ray, and find no dawn;

John Milton had written, or more likely dictated to his daughter, as an old man who had lost his sight, his epic poems Paradise Lost and Paradise Regained.  As a young man, he loved Greek tales and fables. He saught to write an Epic, in the Greek Tradition, at first on the Arthurian Legends. 

As an older man who lost two wives in childbirth, and experienced a decade-long separation from his first wife he turns to the story of Adam and Even and the redemption of Christ as the subject of his epic poems. 

The Stygian pool refers to the river Styx the river in the Greek Under-World.  I have been captured by John Milton and desire to be immersed in his Stygian Pool and to learn of the true myth of Adam and Eve.

On Christ return and a Zion people

 Luke 1:16-17 “And he will turn many of the children of Israel to the Lord their God, and he will go before him in the spirit and power of Elijah, to turn the hearts of the fathers to the children, and the disobedient to the wisdom of the just, to make ready for the Lord a people prepared.” (English Standard Version)

When Christ comes again, he will need a people primarily prepared to be self-governing. He will not return to impose his will but to guide those willing to follow to become Zion people.

I live with and care for my aged father in a house full of bad memories. Most of my memories of life in this house are memories of poverty and neglect.

I care for him not because it is in my best interests but because it is in his best interest.

From my bedroom window, I see a building built by my grandfathers, so my Eternal Parents will have a place to visit with me, so my Eternal Mother can hold me in her bosom.

From this building, my grandmothers knelt at alters and covenanted to be like our Eternal Mother and to guild their children to her presence.

I knelt at the same alters to make the same commitments to my wife and children.

Emmanuel: God is with us.

MercyMe - On My Way to You

What Good Is God?

God the noun. 
Good the adjective.
A simple “o” varies them. 

Last night exhausted not from the day
but from the burdens,
the perennial grief,
the confusion 

all of which I knew would
wake me in the morning
with a cold kiss 

I mouthed not a prayer but a question: 

“What good is God?
Truly. What good is God?” 

I listened, hoping I might hear
some goodly explanation. 

Crickets. 

I had discovered that God
is not a good conversationalist
so I made up this exchange: 

“Dear God,
is watching the world
just spectator sport to you? 

Couldn’t you get a little more involved?
All these prayers, God . . . what’s the use?” 

So you think you have prayed for bread
and I’ve given you a stone? 

“You could put it that way.”
Even if that were true, which it is not
what would your friend Jesus
tell you to do about it? 

“Do? Like . . . ?” 

Like return good for evil . . .
love your enemies . . .
Bless those that curse you . . . 

“I didn’t say you cursed me.” 

Like pray for those that mistreat you
or give you a stone instead of bread. 

“Pray for you?” I laughed.
“Pray for God?” 

If I don’t answer your prayers
you could answer mine
that’s what Jesus would say. 

“You pray?” 

Without ceasing. 

“For what?” 

I pray that you will not give me a stone
but that you will give me bread
that you will feed my sheep
feed my sheep. 

I kept waking in the night as warm little kisses
reminded me of the time after time dear ones
had lifted my stones
had given me bread
had fed this little sheep.

Pearson, C. L. (2020). Finding Mother God. 

I remember when

You ask me to help you make a baby.

It was on our second night together

As a married couple.

It began with a gentle

Nibbling on your ear.

Little did we know

I could never make a baby.

We then waited, together

For the babies,

Sent by one, who loved us, three.

Twice then came the gift

Of the babies.

Now we share this life

Together, apart

And I remember then

Our trip together

Into, eternity.

On incomplete poetry And revealed thought.

Why doe'th he write it,

Or doe'th it right him.

These thoughts incomplete,

They revele'th their in.

To fill in the blanks,

Tis but given them now.

T'is his not to seek,

but to them to reveal.

To both, come'th now,

And it filleth their in.

Found on Facebook from July 2015

On the love of God, the Father for Lucifer

  

D.C. 76:25-29

25 And this we saw also, and bear record, that an ^aangel of God who was in authority in the presence of God, who ^brebelled against the Only Begotten ^cSon whom the Father ^dloved and who was in the bosom of the Father, was thrust down from the presence of God and the Son,

26 And was called ^aPerdition, for the heavens ^bwept over him—he was ^cLucifer, a son of the morning.

27 And we beheld, and lo, he is ^afallen! is fallen, even a son of the morning!

28 And while we were yet in the Spirit, the Lord commanded us that we should write the vision; for we beheld Satan, that old ^aserpent, even the ^bdevil, who rebelled against God, and sought to take the kingdom of our ^cGod and his Christ—

29 Wherefore, he maketh ^awar with the saints of God, and encompasseth them round about.

Lucifer was known and loved in pre-existence.   Our Eternal Parents and the angels still mourn his loss.  I am sure the Eternal Father would even now redeem Lucifer if Lucifer desired redemption.

For years I have studied John Milton’s Paradise Lost.  In the beginning, it was mostly because of my need to search out the pre-restoration prophets.  I have been convinced that God spoke to other men before he spoke to Joseph Smith.  These men laid a foundation for the restoration.  I have come to know that John Milton was one of these pre-restoration prophets.

In Book iii beginning in line 80 God The Father and God the Son are watching Lucifer sneak out of the place of banishment.  They are discussing why God the Father will permit Lucifer to tempt the man, Adam.  They also state why God the Son will redeem man while he cannot redeem Lucifer.  

“The first sort by thir own suggestion fell,

Self-tempted, self-deprav'd: Man falls deceiv'd [ 130 ]

By the other first: Man therefore shall find grace,”

 

“Through all restraint broke loose he wings his way

Not farr off Heav'n, in the Precincts of light,

Directly towards the new created World,

And Man there plac't, with purpose to assay [ 90 ]

If him by force he can destroy, or worse,

By some false guile pervert; and shall pervert

For man will heark'n to his glozing lyes,

And easily transgress the sole Command,

Sole pledge of his obedience: So will fall, [ 95 ]

Hee and his faithless Progenie: whose fault?

Whose but his own? ingrate, he had of mee

All he could have; I made him just and right,

Sufficient to have stood, though free to fall.

Such I created all th' Ethereal Powers [ 100 ]

And Spirits, both them who stood and them who faild;

Freely they stood who stood, and fell who fell.

Not free, what proof could they have givn sincere

Of true allegiance, constant Faith or Love,”

 

John Milton, in Book III, shows correctly why God permitted Lucifer to fall and tempt man, but he does not show the deep love God the Father has for Lucifer and why the Heavens mourned his loss.  Joseph Smith may be the first person to clarify the deep love, of God the Father, for Lucifer and the significant loss to the Heavens at Lucifer's rebellion.

Written as a final reflection for a Doctrine Covenants Class

Brigham Young University - Idaho

Spring 2021

 

To mourn the loss of the possibilities

Two possibilities were lost, when first they wed,
confident she was, of these possibilities.

This then, the request, a priesthood blessing,
to ward off the loss, of the possibilities.

Still,  then came the loss, this, then day.
This then his personal Gethsemane.

Then came the new, possibilities,
provided by the one, that loved them all.

Thus comes a life, of raising,
their possibilities.

Much joy and sorrow then come,
from raising, these possibilities.

I hope you mourn the loss,
of your possibilities,
and gain joy, from raising
your new, possibilities.

"Before you cross the street take my hand.
Life is what happens to you
while you’re busy making other plans."

(John Lennon)

Steven Bassett

On memories of a school playground

 

The building is gone,
long gone, now.

The memories remain,
the number of times I sat there,
wondering, why I had no friends.

My back turned to the playground.
Was my back turned to the possibilities, too?

It took years to learn,
to have a friend I had to be one. 

Thankfully, in Jr. High,
a group of friends helped me learn,
to be a friend so I could have friends.

Now life is a joy and I have learned this lesson,
and I share it now,
with my new friends. 

On the first and last companions

He had chosen one of them, a woman
as his first and last, companion.

The first apostle of the resurrection,
A special witness was a woman.
The first to testify of the renewal.

She being the first to see, his eternal, body.
This Easter Morn.

She then to witness, to the ones,
Who prayed daily, thank God I was not born,
A woman.

One of them had begged him,
To turn water into wine,
As a sign of celebration, and renewal,
At a wedding feast.

It was not his time yet,
Not yet ready, still in preparation,
In honor and obedience,
To a woman, he turned,
then water into wine. 

This then Jesus.

Then what of one who came later,
The one who served modern Israel.

In modern Israel, among the saints,
And sinners of the Mississippi Delta.
He being the chief Sinner,
In need of renewal,
This Eastern Mourn.

His first and last companions,
Had been women too.

On arriving in Jackson, Mississippi.
The mission president had a need,
To move a car, and sister missionary,
To Monroe Louisiana.
This, then, new assignment,

Then at the end came the second, woman.
She the one who delivered him, first
To modern Israel.

He, her only child born in the summer,
In the afternoon, he was broken then too. 

On the day of his birth,
This new discovery
This then the need, for surgery,

To create a body opening,
To expel the waste material,
Of a life.

The next 21 years,
They  would  then dance,
In and out of each other’s lives,
creating memories, together,
some good, many bad.

Until in this trip, together,
He would create an opening,
In their lives, to expel,
The anger, the hurt, and the shame,
Of the sad memories,  together.

As he shared with her, 
His love of Vicksburg.

Steven Bassett

D.C. 69:1 

"Hearken unto me, saith the Lord your God, for my servant Oliver Cowdery’s sake. It is not wisdom in me that he should be entrusted with the commandments and the moneys which he shall carry unto the land of Zion, except one go with him who will be true and faithful."

On faithfully advocating for change in the temporal church

 “On every continent and across isles of the sea, the faithful are being gathered into The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Differences in cultural background, language, gender, and facial features fade into insignificance as members lose themselves in service to their beloved Savior. Paul’s declaration is being fulfilled: “As many of you as have been baptized into Christ have put on Christ.” 1994–A:69, Russell M. Nelson, “Teach Us Tolerance and Love”

I am 55 years old, and I have seen very many changes in the church.  I was born into a church that discriminated against black men and women.   Men and women were denied priesthood ordinations and temple blessings based on the color of their skin. 

These practices were preached from general conference pulpits based on the false tradition, that it was taught by Joseph Smith.  Faithful men begin the study of what Joseph Smith personally taught and practiced and documented how the current teachings were false.

In 1973 Lester E. Bush wrote and published in Dialogue Magazine Mormonism’s Negro Doctrine: an Historical Overview.

In the early 1960s, there is evidence that Pres. Hugh B. Brown recognized that this practice was one of the false traditions of our fathers and not a doctrine, or practice, from Heavenly Father.  He came close to having the practice removed and changed by The Quorum of the Twelve at that time. I can speculate that the general church membership was not prepared for this change. Elder Spencer W. Kimball continued to support this policy in public while seeking continuing light and truth on this matter. He may have been praying for ways to help prepare the general church membership for these changes.

Lester Bush, through his scholarly work, was assisting in preparing the general church membership for these changes.

I can remember in my youth, reading about Sonja Johnson, and her ex-communication. She publicly advocated for the Equal Rights Amendment.  This avocation was not the real concern for her stake president and local leaders. The real concern was the damage she was causing the missionary program because of her speeches, degrading the church and its leaders, before the  American Psychological Association.

Here you see two examples of ways to create change in the temporal church. One is the faithful approach, and one is the unfaithful approach.  I can be most effective in my avocation for change by faithfully supporting the current leadership and policies.

I have learned many things from personal study and prayer. Some of these may seem heterodoxical.   I am learning the ways Heavenly Mother is sharing her powers with her daughters. It may be different from the ways  Heavenly Father shares his powers with his sons.  The great mystery is why Heavenly Father requires formal ordination while Heavenly Mother does not.

I can be most effective in sharing these truths by first paying my tithing and maintaining a current Temple Recommend. In public, especially in my church assignments and ministering lessons, I am most effective by limiting my lessons to current doctrine while sharing my more personal teachings with close friends.

I wish to follow Lester Bush’s example and not Sonja Johnson’s.  I will support The First Presidency and the Quorum of the Twelve as they are preparing the general membership for a more expanded role for women in church temporal leadership.

This essay was written for my BYU-I Doctrine and Covenants class in the spring of 2021

Letter to an old friend

 Elise

Just a note of encouragement, your example meant so much to me when I wondered if I would ever have a friend, or if I could learn to be a friend. Being a member of the orchestra changed my life, for the better.

I hear the sense of frustration in your voice and wish to carry some of that burden and lift your pain.  This I cannot do.  What I can do is tell you that I am a fellow traveler on the road.  There are many of us who quietly carry a load, who desire to walk beside you on your journey.  

Journeys can be tough but sometimes they are the best way to learn and to grow. A Redwood Forest requires fire to be germinated. Their seedlings open under great heat generated from a forest fire.  

On Mr. Frodo and Gethsemane.

What be their task.

Here in the garden.

Know they not then, this burden.

Come to gloat, had they now,

Or only to mourn, this one.

If this be the failure, final.

All will be lost.

How to strengthen him then.

Thus, now they confirmed.

This burden, could carry, they not,

For man

For God.

The blood it flowed, drop by drop.

Once before there had been such a scene.

High on Mount Doom, in Mordor, a task almost too much, for this one to bare.

Mr. Frodo, all spent from burden, thus carried.

It had all seamed in vain.

Till came the friend, who walked the path.

Samwise Gamgee

"Come, Mr. Frodo!' he cried. 'I can't carry it for you, but I can carry you."

So do angel's imitate men and hobbits.

This lesson they share.

 
my poem written when my wife was undergoing cancer treatments

I wish I could carry your burden, but this I cannot, but like the angels in Gethsemane and Samwise Gamgee on Mount Mordor, I can walk beside you and share the pain. 

Early in our marriage my wife came to me and told me that she had stomach cancer.  She said not to worry as stomach cancer is a slow burner and we still had decades together.  From time to time, I would ask her about cancer.  She would confirm that it was no big deal, and she could handle it well.  I noticed that she held her stomach more and that more kinds of food seamed to unsettle her stomach. Then came the time she stated that the cancer was terminal and that she had six month to live. This would be the last time we would discuss the matter and she did not intend to inform anyone else but the children. She wanted to live the last six months with her children as normal as possible. 

We held a family council and decided to try one more unconventional treatment that at least offered the possibility of returning her appetite.  This, by some unexplained miracle, did return her to health.  She is doing well today.  

I cannot say God will cure you.  I cannot say that my diabetes will be cured.  Maybe together we can learn to manage our illness until we learn the lessons God has sent us here to learn. 

In the middle of the cancer treatments, I started writing poetry to dispel the pain. I needed somewhere to put all the guilt, sorrow and shame.  At first it was bad, very bad. But with time I found my voice and I shared it with a few trusted friends. I found a friend who helped me carry my load.  Those were some dark years. The support of a friend carried me through while we waited for the cure.

One of my favorite books on pain and shame and suffering is The Shack by William P. Young.  At the start of the book Mack’s daughter is kidnapped and murdered.  He is invited by Papa, his wife’s name for God, to come for a visit in the shack where his daughter was murdered. When he arrives, the shack is turned into a beautiful log cabin and a lady that looks like Oprah Winfrey opens the door. She says she is  Papa and is grateful he has stopped by for a visit.  Together in the kitchen they kneaded bread. He reminds her that she abandoned her son on the cross.  Then she states “Son, when all you see is your pain you lose sight of me.'' She shows him the scars she still carries on her wrist.  While Jesus may not have recognized her presence, still, she shared the load.  

The Shack - "Together" scene   

I wonder how many times Papa continues to carry our load though we may not recognize her presence.

I did not recognize Papa carrying my load. 

This poem came out of one of those difficult periods.  My wife was dying, and my daughter was getting married.  She asked the dog to walk her down the aisle.  I don’t know if life could get much darker. 

The scares, He bore.

The knife, it was not sharp,

Just enough,

Serrated, thus it was,

Small in size.

Designed to portion a steak

into smaller pieces.

It had rested on the table.

Left from a previous meal.

It was a tough morning,

leading to a tough day.

One was dying, was she?

One was taking the covenants,

of marriage.

Both performed,

one the marriage,

one the promise.

He was uncertain of his place in both, lives.

Luck had it there were no guns in the house.

Still,

Would they really care in the morning?

There was a lot of blood,

Still...

I learned that playing with knives did not solve my problem; it only left one more mess to clean up. 

I guess what I am trying to say is I did come through the darkness with the help of a friend.  My Heavenly Mother offered me the gift of poetry to shed the shame. I am grateful for the gift, even though it came at a heavy cost. 

Are there any gifts Papa has offered you as she has helped to carry your load?

I love to hear about your music.  I stopped playing when I left for the mission field. String Bass is not a solo instrument. Maybe when I finish college and life slows down a little, I will start those Cello lessons. Till then I will listen to Cellos solos on Spotify and think of you, still, as I hope to share your load today. 

Your fellow traveler.

Steven Bassett

On the Endowment and Forgiveness

 These are the thoughts I shared in my BYU-I Family History class about the Abrahamic Covenant.

The Endowment is only the beginning. It is the tie that binds me to my grandmothers for all eternity. It is the promises my mom made to me and that I then share with my wife and children. I think of these promises when life with my father, wife, and children gets tough. Life with my mom was always a dance. We weaved in and out of each other's lives. Each reaching and then pulling away. In the end, it was the promises that my mom and grandmothers made in the temple that drove me to rebuild our relationship.

It is about love, and hope, and forgiveness. loving and being loved when neither party deserves that love.

Matthew West "Forgiveness"

On being like Divinity

His wife, like Divinity, is best appreciated in small amounts. This is a line he received from the Muze.

Divinity comes in two varieties. We will speak of the candy first. 

Divinity is a candy his aunts made him in his youth. It is served at fancy parties or wedding receptions.  It is made from beaten egg whites like the meringue topping on a cream pie. Some people like to combine it with small nuts. Beaten egg whites are gently blended with sugar and corn syrup in a mixing bowl, then dropped onto a cookie sheet covered with parchment paper. 

Working with Divinity is a skill that can take years to acquire.  If dropped too soon, it puddles on the cookie sheet.  When not gently blended, the syrupy mixture will melt the meringue in the mixing bowl.

It is better anticipated than consumed.  Anticipation is its natural gift. One quickly learns that a tiny piece is more than enough to finish at a setting because of the high sugar content. It reminds him of Manna. Manna is the substance that Jehovah gave to the Children of Israel in the wilderness. The Children of Isreal were instructed to gather it daily, with a double portion on the sixth day because it was not provided on the seventh day.  A double portion gathered on any other day spoiled the following day.  Because Divinity is made from egg whites, it will not last more than a few days in a humid room. 

Working with his wife is a skill that has taken him years to learn. She is like Golde, Tevye's wife in The Fiddler on the Roof.  She is dedicated to nurturing her husband and family, but she does not mince words and is very direct and to the point. 

They shared few interests when they married and share less so today. He knew she enjoyed being with and helping him even when little conversation he shared.  She tried at first, but in his failure to reply, she learned to live a quiet life together. 

Now they share one life in two homes, he anticipates his weekly visits, to learn more of her life that week.  He quickly discovers she has little to share, and he is the one seeking to continue the conversation. 

She is the last thing on his mind at night and the first thing he thinks of in the morning. He is sending her daily text messages and tiny pieces of poetry, songs, and essays.  Seeking to nurture and rebuild their relationship, he damaged so long ago. 

The second kind of Divinity is the one he is studying now. He is learning he has Heavenly Parents, and the second member of the Eternal Parenthood is female.  She has been there, silently in the background this lifetime listening on the pray party line.  When she discovers a need,  she provides a solution often through the intervention of his wife and sister. 

He now recognizes his wife is like Divinity, a fact he now appreciates. She is a shadow or reflection of his Eternal Mother. She is helping him to understand his Eternal Mother's influence.  The intervention of the Eternal Mother is helping to breach this silence he created between them so long ago. 

Fiddler on the roof - Do you love me

On the discovery of the Siblings

It started as a late-night text from someone who was little more than an acquaintance and little less than a friend.  It would lead to this one becoming family.

Kelley had been preparing his yearly tax reports for the better part of a decade. Once a year, he would gather his information and schedule an appointment. Kelley would then prepare the tax returns, one for Idaho, one for Utah, and one for the Federal Government. 

He met Kelley when he needed help with tax preparation. Kelly was a friend of his sister.

The text said, "I think my niece is your son's sister." 

His only response was, "How did her father die." 

It is essential to understand his two children were adopted. Their Birth Mother was his wife's sister, and both children came from separate Birth Fathers. 

When he awoke the following day, a simple reply, Alan killed himself. Kelley then became his family, and he learned of the sister.

Before this day, the thought had never occurred to him that Alan may have an ex-wife and children.  He pleaded with Kelley to speak with his niece and ask her not to contact Nicholas until he could inform his son of this new information. 

He was able to visit his son the next day and inform him that he had two sisters and a brother from Alan and Vicki. 

He spoke to Vicki about Nicholas's birth and Alan's death. He wondered how Alan felt about the adoption and was it a contributing factor in Alan's death. 

She assured him that Alan was happy to see Nicholas placed in a good home. The adoption had not been a contributing factor in Alan's Death. Alan was bipolar and an alcoholic and knew he would not be able to raise Nicholas with Nancy. 

In the coming days, he and his wife met with Nicholas's sister in a restaurant, and they then became family.

They have since discovered that Nicholas is bipolar, and his sister has been a big help in adjusting him to his new diagnosis. 

God makes a family in many mysterious ways.  Open your heart and mind, and he will help extend your family too. 

On life with Momma and Nance

I have come to recognize, and now to love, that I am my Momma’s child. I have rebelled for years against the idea that we share the same personality.

Life with Momma was a dance. I reached out, she pushed away. She reached out I pushed away. In the end, we came together, and beautiful was the dance.

Momma had a younger sister named Nancy but called her Nance. Accepting that Momma and I share a personality is to accept that I share one with Nance. They were twin sisters born 18 months apart. Momma and Nance shared a room until Momma married, then they shared a family. Momma could have babies, and Nance knew how to raise them. Even on family Vacations, they shared a bed, Momma sleeping between Daddy and Nance.

Nance was my nanny until the age of three when she moved to Bountiful to start her own life. Most of my memories of these early years are shadows. We spent so much time together, people accused her of having a child out of wedlock. Nance taught me how to love and that people could be trusted to fill my needs.

After Nance was married and she and Jack had no babies, Momma would send a child each summer to spend a few weeks with Nance. Nance then began a childcare center in her home. One brother and sister, she raised for years.

Loving Momma was like loving a cactus in a coffee can.

"Two weeks to say hello and goodbye
She gave me this cactus, said 'It's kinda like me
It'll hurt you to hold it, but it blooms every spring." 

Life with Daddy was not easy, but she loved him so. Momma’s drug of choice was Television. She watched Television like a drunk consumes cheap whiskey.

I learned in my twenties; Momma kept a pack of cigarettes in her car. She used to consume those on drives when she was learning to love Daddy once more.

To accept that I am Momma’s child is to rejoice that I am Nance’s child too. I can have the best of two women and their world. To accept and celebrate the legacy left by two beautiful women who shared a family together.

Cactus in a Coffee Can

(C)1998 Famous Music LLC/Song Matters Inc./

Built On Rock Music (ADM. By ICG): Sony/ATV Cross Keys

Publishing/David Aaron Music (ASCAP) All Rights on behalf

of Sony/ATV Tunes LLC and David Aaron Music admin by

Sony/ATV Music Pub. All Rights Reserved.

For Educational Purposes Only.

On the length of her hair

Her hair is longer now,
longer than he has seen, before.

There was a time,
when cancer had its way,
that it came out, in handfuls.

Once, in their apartment,
she had cut her hair.

He rescued that sample

Now he carries that sample,
in his wallet,
as he carries her in his heart. 

As they live separate lives, together,
He wonders about the changes,
they share, together. 

He has begun to see,
as she has saught, to teach.
That change is good, for him, for her, for them.

Maybe she will keep this change,
like the many changes, he has sought to keep,
as they live their life together, apart. 

A speculation on the identity of the Muze

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

Facebook April 3, 2016

On his Wife's Heavenly Power

He wonders if speaking to his wife is a little like praying and he wonders often if someone is listening on the other side?

He has been taught since his early youth, the standard of pray for his faith community.

Dear Heavenly Father
Then he should state what he is grateful for.
Then he should ask for what he needs.
Then he should close in the Name of Jesus Christ
Amen

 

This is the way he has prayed for his entire lifetime.

He has begun to wonder if prayer is more of a party-line affair.

In his youth laying telephone lines was an expensive affair, often two or more neighbors would share the same physical phone line.  His parents shared a phone line with the adjacent home.  When the phone rang once, it was for you, if it rang twice it was for your neighbor. You could pick up the phone and hear the neighbor's conversation.

What if in prayer there was an additional deity on the line when you called home. Might God be married, and might his wife be listening?

They rarely speak of a Heavenly Mother in his faith community.  He has been instructed this is because of respect and to avoid vulgar repetition of her name. They are beginning to speak more of the Heavenly Mother, in his faith community, and he longs to know more of her and the role she plays in his life.

His relationship with his Earthly Mother was always difficult.  They danced in and out of each other’s lives.  He reaching out and she is pushing away, she reaching out and he pushing away.  In the end, they danced together the most beautiful dance, when he began to see his Mother for the Mom she became.

Was the Eternal Mom listening in on that party line and doing her best to help them dance, together?

He knows that his wife is listening to him, not from the things she says, but from the life, she lives.

She knows what he needs before he knows what he needs.

She spent 25 years always being at home when he arrived home or arranging for someone to be there when she could not.  Less than 10 times in those years was she not home when he arrived home.

She cooked and she cleaned, and she kept a fine house.  She cared for their children.

She provided the proper advice even when he would have preferred different advice.

She can be tenacious as a bulldog.  When she gets hold of an idea she never let’s go.

He wonders if she has a special connection with the Heavenly Mother.  When God listens in on the party line, does she then communicate with one of her daughters to meet the needs discovered in the prayer?

His Wife's Priesthood power seems like such a mystery to him.  Women preach they serve missions, they serve in the temple, they bless their children when their children are ill, often with a silent prayer of faith.  He has seen his wife do it many times as she rocked a child or placed it in a cool basin of water to reduce a fever.  He knows her prayer of faith is as effective a priesthood blessing as a formal prayer from him. These things he is not authorized to do without formal ordination.

Some speculate that endowed women share their father's and husband’s priesthood power after the temple endowment.  I am not sure this is correct. Might the Heavenly Mother be sharing her Priesthood Power with her daughters after the Temple Endowment.  A two-track priesthood line from the Heavenly Parents to the Earthy Adam and Eve would be such a strength to the family.

Maybe someday it will be revealed to him from where his Wife's Priesthood Power is derived, for now, he is grateful for his wife’s exercise of her Priesthood Power.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This then the room

He sleeps now, in the room,
Where she took her last breath.

It started as a bedroom,

it then became a tv room,

and then a bicycle repair shop.

It has changed and transformed many times

as he has changed and transformed. 

In this room, he shared the bed,  

on early morning cuddles, with mom and dad.

Her last three children had been conceived,

in this room. 

The last of the babies though unplanned,

and undesired was not unloved.

Rarely do woman celebrate and name,

the one unborn and unfinished.

Danna Allen was his name,

and he was remembered. 

With the help of his sister, 

this room then became, again,

a bedroom.

His father is sleeping across the hall, 

in the room, he shared with his siblings,

in their youth.

In this room where his mother took her last breath,

they had spoken of his father.

What would become of him, after her death. 

In many ways, Daddy was her last child.

The one that never fully matured.

So now he sleeps in the room where she took her last breath,

and cares for her last child, and he thinks of his wife and children,

in hopes, they will care for him then,

as he cares for his father, now. 

On seeing his mother through her eyes

He sees his mom then, in her eyes.

She the one that shares their life.

She is young like momma was.

Three young ones has she, now, 

like momma had then.

 

His momma had three children in four years,

And daddy then too.

 

Funny he thought it was,

That he refused to walk until he was three.

She then carried two babies,

one on the hip and one in the carrier.

 

Her sister had helped, she unmarried,

Then became a nanny for number two.

 

Seeing the puzzle from his side, then and now.

Never seeing the burden, his refusal to walk,

Created for her.

Seeing over is not seeing through.

 

Now he sees, through

Both the joy and the burden,

His refusal to walk, created.

He now knows, the things, she provides

The joy and the sorrows, and the strength,

As his maturing  mother supplied to her,

Little ones.

on the mystery of the need to write

 

From whence then comes the need, for him to write?

He writes then, nearly weekly, to her, the one he shares this life with.

She reads them or does she.

He never hears from her, on the writing and the poetry.

Maybe it is better this way.

They are his children, his only creations.  He has a daughter and a son, he adopted years ago.  They are special and unique and fill a void in their lives, but they are not his creation.

Once thirty years ago there had been another, he wrote, to her to from his Christian Mission.  After 3 months he stopped writing when she never answered back. Only decades later did he come to understand how she cherished these letters.  He could have taken a chance, weekly, to teach his mom the Gospel of Jesus Christ.  

Maybe it is his hope in writing her, he can leave something for her and the children.  That his grandchildren will learn to cherish his writing as he now cherishes his grandmother’s paintings and poetry.

This then is his hope today.

 

On painting the ceiling blue

 “Blue, Blue, I think I will paint the ceiling blue.”

This is the punch line from a joke, a mortgage broker told him when they were first married.  He thinks of it often now as he lays in bed at night.  He remembers an earlier time as they shared a late-night intimacy. How many times had she been in this position? On her back fulfilling his needs, as she went over the things, she needed to do the following day.

Wash the dishes, check.

Clean the bathroom, check.

Making out a grocery list, check.

Feed the dog, check.

What is it about intimacy that drives men to their women? Even after decades of only memories, still, it is the first thing he thinks of in the morning and the last thing, he thinks of at night.

It can be said that a man only thinks of two things, the last time he made love and what he must do to receive it again.

This is the thing he wishes more women understood.

God designed us to desire intimacy.  It is hard-wired in us.  Used properly it is the strongest tool  women possess to shape their man.

I have heard it said that women when they are pregnant, project a hormone that prepares men to be good fathers.  

Men remember your woman, protect her, her children, and her priceless power she shares with you.

 

The joke.

What is the difference between a hooker, a mistress and a wife?

A hooker says, “Was it good for you?”

A mistress says, “It was good for me.”

A wife says, “Blue, blue, I think I will paint the ceiling blue.?

 

 

 

 

 

 

On the loss of my Heavenly Mother

CAROL LYNN PEARSON'S "A MOTHERLESS HOUSE" (1992)

I live in a Motherless house

A broken home.

How it happened I cannot learn.

When I had words enough to ask

“Where is my Mother?”

No one seemed to know

And no one thought it strange

That no one else knew either.

I live in a Motherless house.

They are good to me here

But I find that no kindly

Patriarchal care eases the pain.

I yearn for the day

Someone will look at me and say

“You certainly do look like your Mother.”

I walk the rooms

Search the closets

Look for something that might

Have belonged to her--

A letter, a dress, a chair.

Would she not have left a note?

I close my eyes

And work to bring back her touch, her face.

Surely there must have been

A Motherly embrace

I can call back for comfort.

I live in a Motherless house,

Motherless and without a trace.

Who could have done this?

Who would tear an unweaned infant

From its Mother’s arms

And clear the place of every souvenir?

I live in a Motherless house.

I lie awake and listen always for the word

That never comes, but might.

I bury my face

In something soft as a breast.

I am a child--

Crying for my Mother in the night.