Read This, Print That

Last night I read a blog that really touched my heart. It was about a young girl who fell from a ski lift and survived. It touched my heart so profoundly that I'm going to give you the link so you can read it too. It will remind you of all the blessings you have to be thankful for.

And if you are looking for a super cute idea, go here to print these bingo cards!

There's so much cute Valentine's stuff out there this year! 

From My Window

We've had very little snow all winter. Caleb has been waiting for it for a long time. I guess he just wanted to do this.

The snow is beautiful and alluring...from my window.

Overcoming...

Autobiography in Five Short Chapters by Portia Nelson

1. I walk down the street There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I fall in. I am lost…I am hopeless. It isn't my fault. It takes me forever to find a way out.

2. I walk down the same street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I pretend I don't see it. I fall in again. I can't believe I am in the same place. But…it isn't my fault.

3. I walk down the same street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I see it is there. I still fall in…it's a habit. My eyes are open. I know where I am. It is my fault. I get out immediately.

4. I walk down the same street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I walk around it.

5. I walk down another street.

—©1993 From There's a Hole in My Sidewalk

President Hinckley's poem

Many LDS members didn’t recognize one of the songs sung at President Hinckley’s funeral. That’s because the song was actually a poem written by President Hinckley at least 20 years ago and recently put into music by Janice Kapp Perry.

Here's the poem.

"What is this thing that men call death,
This quiet passing in the night?
'Tis not the end but genesis
Of better worlds and greater light.

"O God, touch thou my aching heart
And calm my troubled, haunting fears,
Let hope and faith, transcendent, pure,
Give strength and peace beyond my tears.

"There is no death, but only change,
With recompense for vict'ry won.
The gift of Him who loved all men,
The Son of God, the Holy One."

LDS composer, Janice Kapp Perry did not write the song specifically for President Gordon B. Hinckley’s funeral. She actually wrote it for her niece who died of cancer. Her niece found the poem to be uplifting and inspiring. When Janice put the poem to music, she never thought it would be used as a touching piece at the Prophet’s funeral.

“It’s the most beautiful accompanying poem that I’ve ever heard,” said Janice.

She has been an accomplished LDS composer for quite sometime now but putting Gordon B. Hinckley’s poem to a song seemed overwhelming at first.

“I just knew how he would have wanted it to go just by thinking it through,” Janice says.

What resulted was a beautiful simple melody that accompanied President Hinckley’s poem about death.

Janice was encouraged to write the Prophet and ask his permission to publish the song. She wrote him a letter but he died soon after she had sent it.

“Mostly I was sad to lose him. But as a secondary thought, I wish that I could have heard from him first,” says Janice.

The next day the letter came.

“I thought, well how can that be? He’s gone,” says Janice.

The letter was written right before the prophet died and in it, he thanked Janice for the music.

Days latter, the Mormon Tabernacle Choir sang the song at Pres. Hinckley’s funeral.

“This has been an extremely significant experience in my life,” says Janice.

You can get a copy of the music at Janice’s web site by clicking this link.

A Nice Poem

Prophetic Passing

By Anna M. Molgard
January 27, 2008

I imagine he's running to Marjorie now,
Yes, running, not waving his cane.
I see him embracing his father and mother
While they keep repeating his name.

I see him now meeting his forebears,
Brother Brigham and Joseph are there.
Sweet reunion of prophets, united by service
That only such noble men share.

I see him embraced by the Savior
While Father says, "Good and well done.
So faithful in stalwart endurance, I welcome
My noble, most excellent son."

I then hear the ripples of laughter
As he says the reception's just fine,
But he hopes that he'll get an assignment or two
Since there's no need to waste any time.

I can hear his clear voice in the stillness
At the close of this sweet Sabbath day,
Have faith and move forward — there's work to be done.
President Hinckley would want it that way.

Vista

This poem was one that I learned when I was a young teenager.

The snow.

Ah yes,

ah yes indeed,

is white and beautiful,

from my window.

The sea.

Ah yes, ah yes indeed,

is green and alluring, green and alluring,

very alluring...

from the shore.

Love?....

Ah yes, ah yes, ah yes, indeed,

verily yes, ah yes, indeed!

-Alfred Kreymborg

Back on track

...or treadmill, as the case may be. After ditching the gym since Dec. 20th, I finally got back there today. In the meantime, I've been "cross-training" with the stairstepper and lifting weights. That means carrying heavy boxes up and down stairs and unpacking everything. Fortunately, my weight has stayed exactly the same since I stopped going to the gym. Anyway, it was good to get back to my 3 miles this morning. We found a new gym which works for both Bud and me. An indoor pool for him, a treadmill for me. Agnes will love the new pool! Laura, bring your suits with you when you come out!

Here's a good story...

After the usual ward business the Bishop slowly stood up and walked over to the pulpit and briefly introduced a guest who was in the congregation that day. In the introduction the Bishop told the ward members the guest was one of his dearest childhood friends and that he wanted him to have a few minutes to greet the congregation and share whatever he felt would be appropriate. With that an elderly man walked up to the pulpit and began to speak.

"A father and son, and a friend of the son were sailing off the Pacific Coast, he began. When a fast approaching storm blocked any attempt to get back to the shore. The waves were so high that even though the father was an experienced sailor, he could not keep the boat upright and the three were swept into the ocean as the boat capsized. The old man hesitated for a moment, making eye contact with two teenagers who were for the first time since the meeting began, looking somewhat interested in his story.
The aged man continued with his story, "grabbing a recue line the father had to make the most excruciating decision of his life: To which boy would he throw the other end of the life line? He only had seconds to make the decision. The father knew that his son had a firm testimony of Christ and he also knew that his son's friend did not. The agony of his decision could not be matched by the torrent of waves. As the father yelled out, "I love you son!" he threw out the lifeline to his son's friend. By the time the father pulled the friend back to the capsized boat his son had disappeared beneath the raging swells into the black of night. His body was never recovered.

By this time, the two teenagers were sitting up straight in the pew, anxiously waiting for the next words to come out of the old man's mouth. the father he continued knew his son would step into eternity as part of an eternal family, and he could not bear the thought of his son's friend stepping into an eternity without knowledge of the gospel. Therefore he sacrificed his son to save the son's friend.
How great is the love of God that he should do the same for us. Our Heavenly Father sacrificed his only begotton son that we could return to him. I urge you to accept his offer to rescue you and take a hold of the life line he is throwing out to you. With that the old man turned and sat down in his chair, as silence filled the room. The Bishop again walked slowly to the pulpit and delivered a few closing comments.

Within minutes after the meeting had ended the two teenagers were at the old man's side. That was a nice story, politely stated one of them, but I don't think it was very realistic for a father to give up his only son's life in hopes that the other boy would accept the gospel. Well you have a point there the old man replied glancing down at his worn scriptures. A big smile broadened his narrow face. He once again looked at the two boys and said, " It sure isn't very realistic, is it? But I am standing here today to tell you that story gives me a glimpse of what it must have been like for God to give up His son for me. You see, I was that father and your Bishop is my son's friend."