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 a black 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 black 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 black man 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.