Virtue is the golden key That unlocks the temple doors Where one can glimpse eternity And link to ancestors
Virtue comes of being chaste And glowing with integrity While seeking the love of God, there to taste Inspiration sweet with purity
Leading the world in a return to virtue Sister Dalton exhorts young adults to always be examples of purity By Greg Hill Church News staff writer Published: Saturday, Sept. 19, 2009 click on above title to go to site
The mother duck rested diligently on her eggs Positioning them warmly beneath her legs When they were hatched...one very much stood out By far the darkest and ugliest fledgling without any doubt
Different, the other ducklings would not leave him alone They punished him mercilessly...his worth left unknown Saddened and thinking it best... he ran away Living without hope of a brighter day
Then, on an afternoon that was warm, bright, and wonderful He saw a sight flying high and beautiful Above, in the formation of a majestic v Was a flock of swans flapping towards the east
Spirited, for the first time, he raised his wings in flight Following the flock... brilliant and white There to land where the water was pure and clean And in the reflection... his true identity was seen
A magnificent swan had come to appear Till... a ripple expanded from a lone grateful tear In wonder, he waited, completely in awe When all was still, it was him that he saw!
Our creator, too, would that we know who we are Where we are from and where we are going May we all realize...lovingly, He is not far And trust in His arms raised with mercy showing
May we then shut out what makes us low And darkens us both within and without That we might be spiritually set aglow Bright and celestially endowed
None of us were present to see the Red Sea part Or cross with Israel between two walls of water We were not there to hear the Sermon on the Mount Or listen to our Savior speak to Heavenly Father
We did not see His agony in Gethsemene Or hear two angels testify beside His tomb But the scriptures can enlarge our memories As we learn from the ancient multitudes
Our faith in God then plants deeper roots As records penetrate both our minds and hearts Thus, tutoring us even unto reproof By the shedding of Light and the truth it imparts
On October 16th In the year 1536 A pitiful figure was led To his lone sentence of death
Having been in a damp dark dungeon For a year and a half with no sun He was brought forth out of the castle And hoisted to a post along the wall
Then, given a moment...he uttered aloud A prayer that the bible, in English, be allowed He having been blessed to know many languages Had translated it from Greek and Roman pages
As a religious man, he was a devoted student Who against clergy, dared to declare an argument Ignorance... he'd stated was completely pervasive So, he vowed to make the scriptures purely persuasive
That... each might turn to and read God's word often As even a farmer could search and possess them He, inspired with courage and determined faith, Felt his calling to put man in control of his fate
This was perceived as a threat to the church of his time As they were adamant he'd be casting pearls before swine With hope that God above would open up the kings eyes He was strangled and burned...doubly sure...and as a martyr he died
William Tyndale we thank you And fully express our gratitude May we, known as the common man Take the scriptures unto our hands
And like the farmer of the plough field who searched much and prayed May our questions and prayers to God, all the more, daily be raised May we each feel the scriptures are our greatest treasure A blessing to hold we cannot even begin to measure
The Blessing of Scripture Elder D. Todd Christofferson Ensign, May 2010, 32
The Bibles were smuggled into England, where they were in great demand and much prized by those who could get them. They were shared widely but in secret. The authorities burned all the copies they could find. Nevertheless, within three years of Tyndale’s death, God did indeed open King Henry VIII’s eyes, and with publication of what was called the “Great Bible,” the scriptures in English began to be publicly available. Tyndale’s work became the foundation for almost all future English translations of the Bible, most notably the King James Version.1
William Tyndale was not the first, nor the last, of those who in many countries and languages have sacrificed, even to the point of death, to bring the word of God out of obscurity. We owe them all a great debt of gratitude. We owe perhaps an even greater debt to those who faithfully recorded and preserved the word through the ages, often with painstaking labor and sacrifice—Moses, Isaiah, Abraham, John, Paul, Nephi, Mormon, Joseph Smith, and many others. What did they know about the importance of scriptures that we also need to know? What did people in 16th-century England, who paid enormous sums and ran grave personal risks for access to a Bible, understand that we should also understand?
He's Been There Before by Elder Troy Whittle The alarm bell rings at 6:30, I stumble to my feet I grab my companions bedding and pull off his sheets A groan fills the room, is it already time to arise? It seems like just a second ago I was able to shut my eyes
The morning activities follow- study, prayer and such When it's time to leave the apartment, you feel you haven't accomplished much "We have a super day planned," My comp. says with a grin I lowly utter a faithless breath, "Yeah, if anyone lets us in."
With the word of God and my faithful Schwinn, we ride off in the street prepared to Face another day of humidity and heat It's 9:30 in the evening, the day is almost through My champion and I are riding home not accomplishing what we thought to do
We ride up to the mailbox, hoping to receive a lot Only to look inside and hear my echo reverberate "air Box" We go up to our apartment, the day is now complete The only thing to show for our work is a case of blistery feet
It's past 10:30 p.m. My companion is fast asleep, Silence engulfs me all about and I begin to weep In the midst of sadness, I kneel down to pray I need to talk to father, but I'm not sure what to say
"Oh, Father" I begin, "What happened to us today? I thought we'd teach somebody, but everyone was away My hands, my aching hands- worn, hurt and beat; If our area was any smaller, we'd have knocked every street"
"Why on missions are the days so much alike? The only difference about today was the flat tire on my bike Will you send some cooler weather? The heat is killing me I sweat so bad, it gets in my eyes, it's very hard to see"
"Why do I have to wear a helmet, isn't your protection enough? People always laugh at me, and call me stupid stuff Please send us investigators so I may give them what they lack I want to give them Books of Mormon, the weight of them hurts my back"
"And what about my family: They don't have much to say I'm sick of not hearing from home day after day after day Oh Father, Why am I here am I just wasting time? Sometimes I just want to go home, I'm sorry but that's on my mind"
"My companion, Heavenly Father, what are you giving me? "The way he rides his bicycle, I don't think he can see Now you have it, I can't go on, I don't know what to do That, my Father in Heaven, is the prayer I have for you"
My prayer now finished, I stand up, then jump right into bed I need my rest for tomorrow, we have another long day ahead Sleep start to overtake me, I seem to drift away Then it seems a vision takes me to another time in another day
I'm standing alone on the hill. The view is very nice A man walks to wards me and says, "My name is Jesus Christ" Tears of joy well up inside, I fall down to His feet "Arise," He states, "Follow me to the shade. You and I need to speak"
My attention's towards my Savior, total and complete He says, "Your mission is similar of what happened to me I understand how you feel, I know what you're going through In fact, it would be fair to say I've felt the same as you"
"I even know how you felt when no one listened to you At times I felt not quite sure what else I could do I know you don't like to ride a bicycle, for you a car would be sweet Just remember the donkey I rode wasn't equipped with 21 speeds"
"I understand you don't like sweating, in fact it's something you hate I remember when I sweat blood from ev’ry pore, oh the agony was great! I see you don't like your companion- you'd rather have someone else- I once had a companion named Judas who sold my life for wealth"
"It's hard to wear a helmet and have people make fun of you I remember when they put thorns on my head and called me King of the Jews So you feel burdened down by the weight of your pack I recall how heavy the cross was when they slammed it on my back"
"Your hands hurt from tracting and knocking on doors all day I guess when they pounded nails into mine, I ached in a similar way It's hard not to hear from home when your family's not there to see I lost communication on the cross and cried, "Father, why hast Thou forsaken me?"
"We have a lot in common, but there's a difference between us you see I endured to the end and finished my mission, so follow and do like me" He embraced me with His arms and His light filled me with His love With tears in my eyes I watched as He went back to the Father above
I stood with awe and wonder when a beep rang in my head I listened and heard the alarm, then realized I was in my bed My companion let out a groan, "6:30 already, no way!" I sat up and said, "Come on, I'll even carry your scriptures today!"
No matter what we go through, when we feel we can't take more Just stop and think about Jesus Christ, He's been there before By Elder Troy Whittle Texas Houston listen to this as a song Mission https://ldspoetrybykellymiller.blogspot.com/2008/06/hes-been-there-before.html
The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints
These poems are my own thoughts and impressions as I study the gospel of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter- Day Saints
I encourage you to read from the Book of Mormon and the standard works, and listen to modern day prophets, also, that your mind and heart might be touched.
