*Experience has taught me that a man who has no vices has damned few virtues"
-Abraham Lincoln
"People will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel."
-Maya Angelou
"You can tell whether a man is clever by his answers. You can tell whether a man is wise by his questions.
-Naguib Mahfouz
"I will speak ill of no man, and all the good I know of everybody"
-Benjamin Franklin
"If equal affection cannot be, let the more loving one be me."
-Unknown
"To build may have been the slow and laborious task of years. To destroy can be the thoughtless act of a single day."
-Winston ChurchHill
Monday, March 12, 2007
*THE HEALING POWER OF MUSIC*
Music is probably one of the greatest gifts of my life. I can't imagine a world without it. I think my DEEP love for it developed as early as Jr. High (perhaps earlier). I can still remember laying by my tape recorder...rewinding my favorite song at the moment over and over and over. I admit that alot of the time I was probably crying as I listened to it, over some boy who didn't like me or even worse...a boy who didn't know that I existed. (Bless my braceface heart haha) But even then...I found that music was a healing balm. Even some of the sad songs brought a sense of comfort and understanding to what I was going through at that moment in time. They seem to say the things we don't know how to say and express those things in a VERY powerful way.
I always joke around about how great it would be, if every special moment in our life had background music! Wouldn't that be great? Both good and bad times. Perhaps it would be a little something like, John Cusak, in the movie "Say Anthing". There he is holding a boom box over his head...and blaring "In your eyes". That's so classic! So many people love that moment in film history because it really IS powerful. There ae also those moments when you come across a song you haven't heard for ages and suddenly your transported back in time and this flood of emotion comes over you. You suddenly remember a person or a place...a good experience or a bad one. It has been and will be a part of everything we do in this life. It just somehow works that way. Like I said before, it is powerful. I love this quote by David O. McKay;
"We do not have any thoughts that cannot be expressed, either in words or gestures, but there are feelings in the human heart which cannot be expressed in any language or words; so we must provide ourselves with other mediums of expression; for instance, music, art, architecture-the wonderful arts which do not belong to any nation, but which speak the language of the soul. Music is international. Although the words may be Polynesian or Italian or German or English, music is always understood by the soul."
I'm in love with all kinds of music. (excluding metal:) For those who think my music taste is "Stuck in the past"...your mostly right. :) But now and then I do come across new music that I like. I usually find it in interesting ways. A recommendation of a friend, a movie soundtrack, walking through a book store...etc. There is nothing better then finding a new song that FITS exactly where your at and what your going through. I sincerely believe that is one of the ways that God speaks to me. There have been so many times that a song will come at just the right moment when I needed a little something from heaven. I have also found that "I" can use music to help others. Sometimes I will be praying for a certain friend...and a song will come to my mind. I will then go and usually look up the lyrics and find out later on that they fit what that person needed to hear and their situation. I also love that I can use it to make them laugh or just lighten their burdens. It's such a great gift we are given.
On the other hand...music and lyrics can work against us and bring us down or into darkness. There are times when I have heard a band or a song...and have just felt the life sucked right out of me. Music that encourages anger, hatred, despair, inappropriate and disrespectful thoughts towards both women and men, and no value for the human life. You have to always be aware of the impact it can or is having on you. A great book that discusses this in further detail is, "Making the music decision" by Jack R. Christianson. There is no sugarcoating in this book. Very straight forward and BOLD about how music affects us. (I think you can still buy it...if you can't find it, check Ebay:)
I guess the moral of this blog, is that music is wonderful. And I truly love it. I'm grateful for all the things it brings me as I saunter through this life.
P.S. A recommendation for some new music for you, is a group called "A fine frenzy". Their page is in my friends list. It's really beautiful and even better in person. (I saw them last week in Park City)
P.S. A recommendation for some new music for you, is a group called "A fine frenzy". Their page is in my friends list. It's really beautiful and even better in person. (I saw them last week in Park City)
Sunday, February 11, 2007
*I DID MY BEST*
There is a story of a man who was playing basketball with his friends. He loved basketball and just finished a good hard game. As he and his friends began to leave the game, they heard him say out loud, "I did my best". Not knowing exactly what he was talking about...they assumed he meant the game. Within moments he fell to the floor and stopped breathing. His friends tried to revive him, but to no use. At that moment..he passed away.
I believe that the man was not talking about the game. You know when many people have near death experiences and they say their lives past before their eyes? Perhaps this was the case...and in that moment, he saw his life and was able to say, "I did my best".
The pressure to be perfect in this world is horrific. I wasted so many years feeling guilty for my weaknesses...that were common weaknesses of all people. There was no need to be so hard on myself. That is not the Saviors way. He doesn't count mistakes...he counts efforts. I believe that when we pass over into the eternitys, one of the things that will shock us most, is his mercy. This is not justification for sin, but instead encouragement...that we do NOT have to be perfect.
At the end of my life....I don't want to look my Heavenly Father in the eyes and say, "I tried to be perfect". I simply want to proclaim, I DID MY BEST!
Kim CuRtis. *2007*
I believe that the man was not talking about the game. You know when many people have near death experiences and they say their lives past before their eyes? Perhaps this was the case...and in that moment, he saw his life and was able to say, "I did my best".
The pressure to be perfect in this world is horrific. I wasted so many years feeling guilty for my weaknesses...that were common weaknesses of all people. There was no need to be so hard on myself. That is not the Saviors way. He doesn't count mistakes...he counts efforts. I believe that when we pass over into the eternitys, one of the things that will shock us most, is his mercy. This is not justification for sin, but instead encouragement...that we do NOT have to be perfect.
At the end of my life....I don't want to look my Heavenly Father in the eyes and say, "I tried to be perfect". I simply want to proclaim, I DID MY BEST!
Kim CuRtis. *2007*
Saturday, February 03, 2007
*I UNDERSTAND*
"And I said unto him: I know that he loveth his children; nevertheless, I do not know the meaning of all things." (1 Nephi 11:17)
The beautiful words of Nephi of old....they seem to bring a comfort to my soul in so many respects. I have found myself relying on those words in my young life...over and over. "I do not know the meaning of all things". I have longed to understand the sorrows and stumbling blocks that have been placed along my journeys path. I have spent countless hours pondering their meanings and how I might overcome. Wondering if perhaps they were my own fault. Did I not have enough faith? Was I not trying hard enough? Had I failed him in some way? I would do anything for my Heavenly Father. And anything to be released of the burden of an illness that is so misunderstood ...and judged so harshly in this life. It is lonely...so very very lonely.
"I know that he loveth his children" One of the greatest blessings I have ever been given, was to learn at a young age...that heavenly father knew me, and that he loved me. I have often had to remind myself of that....but deep in my heart I knew he did. That when everyone else failed me....he would not. That when I walked alone....he walked beside me. His arm around my shoulders to bare me up. But we don't see this with our natural eyes. The trials of this life often rob us of this knowledge...and cause us to feel we walk alone. We truly have to call upon a strength that is deep inside us to remind us that he has never left us, and he never will.
When I was 21 I went through a very painful experience. I went to a great teacher of mine, a man I truly trusted for advice and comfort. I found myself in his office weeping before him. I asked him "Why??? Why did this happen to me?" He listened patiently, his eyes never wavering from me. He was silent for a short time. I thought perhaps he didn't know how to answer me. But then some of the most profound words were spoken to me. He said, "Kim, there is a price to pay to be able to say, "I understand"...and YOU have paid the price. I had no idea how much those words would affect my future and how often I would need to remember them. There are no greater comforting words...then the words "I understand". Each time I have said them to a weary traveler...there is an instant sigh of relief. Each time someone has said them to ME, there is an instant sigh of relief. Our gratitude for that person is beyond words. We feel, that even for a moment, we may rest.
I get so tired of the fight. Trying to explain my circumstances. Trying to prove to others that I am not lazy, that I am not making up these things...these anxieties, and the depression that wrenches both my body and mind. That everyday I fight like a lion to just LIVE.
Wouldn't it be remarkable if we saw each persons life on the big screen? I think we would never see them the same again. No judgment would ever come from our lips and I think our hearts would love them in a way that each person so deserves to be loved.
The Savior has been my greatest example of one who must have felt the weariness of his own journey. knowing that so many would misunderstand him, and that he would have to feel all the feelings of sorrow, loneliness, misunderstanding, being misjudged and the great betrayl of those he loved and trusted most. Along with all the other mighty blessings of the atonement, He suffered it all...to be able to say, "I understand" .
I think I finally understand the real reasons WHY I need to suffer and feel alone. Truly, I do not know the meaning of all things, nevertheless...I know that God loves his children. He loves even ME.
Thursday, January 18, 2007
*THE RAINBOW CORRECTION*
"Earlier this month, we had a spell of very odd weather in Salt Lake City. It would be sunny, and then it would rain, and then it would be sunny again, all in the course of a few hours. Traditionally in this part of the country, if it rains, it's gloomy all day. It's consistent and reliable, like a Swiss watch. (Not so much like a Swiss person, of course, as the Swiss are notoriously deceitful and untrustworthy.)
But one plus side of this unusual weather pattern is that when the clouds dissipate and the sun emerges following a spring rain, you can sometimes see rainbows. I've seen three rainbows in the past couple weeks; I don't think I'd seen one in a decade before that.
The downside, however, is that whenever I see a rainbow, I'm afraid my mom is dead.
Believe me, this makes perfect sense. In the late 1970s, the Mormon Church (of which I'm a member) produced film strips for young people telling stories of an inspirational and/or doctrinal nature. This was before VCRs, and film strips were cheaper to produce than actual movies. So you'd have this series of still photos run through a projector, with an accompanying cassette tape providing the soundtrack. Every time you'd hear a "BEEP" on the tape, you'd advance the film one frame further.
Everyone wanted to be in charge of the film projector, because it carried with it a sense of power. It was almost like directing the movie yourself, except the actors weren't moving, and there was a "BEEP" telling you when to do things. But still. The problem with letting ordinary kids run the projector was that ordinary kids can be as undependable and shifty as a Swiss person, and it was often unclear which frame the strip should be on when the tape was started anyway, and so the pictures being projected were often out of sync with the soundtrack. Perceptive children such as myself would know almost immediately that we were off-track, but we were powerless to act, as the projector had been entrusted to someone else. Eventually there would be an obvious misalignment -- the narrator would say, "Billy had fun sinning and carrying on in a shameful manner," but the picture projected would match what he was ABOUT to say, which was, "but soon he felt sorry and remorseful" -- and the projectionist would advance a frame or two and catch up. But in the meantime, the soundtrack not matching the images made it impossible to pay attention to the principles being taught, the same way you cannot listen to a sermon delivered by someone whose tie is crooked or whose hair looks funny. (I'm not the only one, right?)
When I was in charge of the projector, I ran a tight ship, let me tell you. I also was not afraid to put my own cinematographic touches on the experience. For example, there was a film called "Leon's Truck," in which a teenage boy saves money to buy a truck only to subsequently wreck it by drinking and driving. When the storyteller said that Leon was drunk, and the accompanying picture showed Leon in an inebriated state, I turned the focus knob on the projector so that Leon and his surroundings looked appropriately fuzzy. This earned a laugh, yes, but I think it also taught a valuable lesson about drinking and driving.
Anyway, probably the most famous film strip of that era was called "Families are Forever," more popularly known as "I'll Build You a Rainbow." The doctrine being taught was that families can continue to be together as a family unit in the afterlife, too, and that we therefore need not be so frightened of death. (Assuming we were righteous, of course. Naughty people should still be afraid.)
"Families are Forever" was a story told in music. The verses were spoken while an acoustic guitar and strings underscored them; then the storyteller would break into the chorus, which was sung. The story was about an 11-year-old boy named Jamey whose best friend in the whole world was his mom. She played football and went on bike rides with him and stuff, and all the other kids on the block said they wished their moms were like Jamey's mom. I'm only guessing here, but I wouldn't be surprised if some of them thought she was hot. I'm just sayin'.
Well, then, wouldn't you know it, she died. Jamey got called home from school early one day and when he arrived, there was an ambulance in the driveway. He went in to see his mom, and she was in bed, and she told him she was dying. The song doesn't tell us what she had, but apparently it came on suddenly. Food poisoning, maybe, or bubonic plague. Anyway, Jamey's all, "You just can't die, Mom! You just can't!" And she tells him not to worry, because families are forever, and she'll be in heaven waiting for him and watching over him, and he's like, "But how will I know that you're really in heaven?" And she thinks a minute, and then the singer bursts into the chorus:
"I'll build you a rainbow way up high above,Send down a sunbeam plumb full of love,Sprinkle down raindrops, teardrops of joy,I'll be happy as springtime watching over my boy."
And then she dies and they haul her away in the ambulance. Jamey and his dad are standing in the driveway and Dad starts crying and Jamey looks up and sure enough, right up there in the sky is one hell of a big rainbow, and Jamey goes, "Dad, Dad, it's all right: Families are forever!" And then the chorus returns, this time with backup singers:
"I'll build you a rainbow (I'll build you a rainbow) way up high above,Send down a sunbeam plumb full of love,Sprinkle down raindrops (sprinkle down raindrops), teardrops of joy,I'll be happy in heaven watching over my boy."
And that's when YOU CRY. No matter who you are, no matter how funny you think the phrase "plumb full of love" is, no matter what kind of a heartless jerk you are, when Jamey looks up and sees that rainbow and tells his dad families are forever, YOU WILL CRY.
Doctrinally, I'm not sure how sound the story is. Not the part about families being together in the afterlife, because I believe that, but the part where newly deceased mothers can barge into heaven and start flinging rainbows around willy-nilly. Don't you have to get approval for that sort of thing? Do people who have just arrived in heaven even know HOW to build rainbows? Besides, there must hundreds of mothers dying every day. They couldn't let them ALL build rainbows, or the skies would be a never-ending kaleidoscope -- but if the moms DON'T build rainbows, will their distraught families assume that means they didn't make it to heaven?
For that matter, what if Mom does go to hell? Could she send word of that development to her family, too, perhaps to warn them not to follow in her footsteps? "I'll build you a forest fire"? "I'll build you a devastating hurricane"? "I'll build you some puppies with deformities"?
I imagine Jamey's mom approaching the first person she sees in heaven and saying this:
"Hi, hey, listen, um, I just got here, and -- what? Oh, food poisoning ... yeah, out of nowhere, really, surprised us all -- anyway, so I just got here, and -- it's kind of embarrassing, really -- but I sorta promised my kid that I'd, um, build him a rainbow? You know, a rainbow? So he could, like, know that I'm here and everything? So ... who do I talk to about that? Is there, like, a department or whatever? Do I need a permit? Are there forms to fill out...?"
While we're on the subject of songs that are supposed to make you cry whose doctrine I find questionable, there's the recent sappy, crappy country hit "Christmas Shoes" (not to be confused with "Live Like You Were Dyin'," "Already There," or any of the other sappy, crappy country hits that are produced at the rate of one song per week). It's about a guy standing in line in a store at Christmastime, and this filthy urchin in front of him is buying a pair of women's shoes, which he declares to be for his mother:
"Sir, I want to buy these shoes for my Mama, pleaseIt's Christmas Eve and these shoes are just her sizeCould you hurry, sir, Daddy says there's not much timeYou see she's been sick for quite a whileAnd I know these shoes would make her smileAnd I want her to look beautiful if Mama meets Jesus tonight"
Because, what, Jesus can't abide a barefoot woman? Or a woman who has shoes on that aren't beautiful? And who says Mama will be wearing shoes when she gets to heaven anyway? I believe the old saying is, "You can't take it with you." Does that not apply to shoes? Is there supposed to be an asterisk next to it?
You can't take it with you.**(except shoes)
Anyway, the kid in the song winds up getting the singer to buy him the shoes, because of course he's too poor to pay for them himself. I picture him thanking the man profusely, then hurrying out the door with the shoes to his mother, who's waiting in the car, smoking a cigarette:
"What took you so long? Here, let's see 'em ... What, these are the best you could find?! Pumps! I told you pumps! These are heels! I can't wear these, they make my feet hurt, you stupid brat! You better get it right at the next store. And would it kill you to cry a little? See if you can get someone to give you some cash, too. Mama can't buy lottery tickets with shoes."
And my question is, does this make me a bad person?
Comments & Reaction:
This column follows a circuitous route to its eventual point, and then turns out not to have one anyway. Long-time "Snide Remarks" fans will recognize this sloppy pattern as being the norm for those beloved old Daily Universe-era columns (1997-1999), and I confess a certain fondness for it, too, even though disorganization and random tangents technically make me a bad writer, not a good one.
I had a cassette tape of the "I'll Build You a Rainbow" song for years, but I can't seem to locate it now. Is it on CD anywhere? If someone has it, send it to me, and I'll put it on the site so that people unfamiliar with it can hear it. It really must be heard.
I do have the sheet music for it, though. So if I ever need to perform it in a show, I'm ready.
At a Christmas party last year, the host and hostess performed "Christmas Shoes" with the express purpose of mocking it. They even made a cue card with the lyrics so that we could join in on the chorus. It was the high point of my holiday season.
I was putting the finishing touches on this column in the presence of my Fat Brother Jeff, who read some of it over my shoulder and insisted I include a reference to rainbow-building "permits." We also had a discussion of an asterisk next to "You can't take it with you," so that's where that came from.
An unfortunate coincidence to my baseless attack on Swiss people is that I happen to know a Swiss person, and she's married to my grandfather, and she's perfectly upstanding. But the expression is "as reliable as a Swiss watch," so I had to go with it. No harm intended (not that Grandma II has Internet access anyway).
(Also, do you like how I said "of course" about Swiss people being dishonest, like everyone knows that? That's awesome.) "
Eric D. Snider. (Written in 2005 by Eric D snider)
But one plus side of this unusual weather pattern is that when the clouds dissipate and the sun emerges following a spring rain, you can sometimes see rainbows. I've seen three rainbows in the past couple weeks; I don't think I'd seen one in a decade before that.
The downside, however, is that whenever I see a rainbow, I'm afraid my mom is dead.
Believe me, this makes perfect sense. In the late 1970s, the Mormon Church (of which I'm a member) produced film strips for young people telling stories of an inspirational and/or doctrinal nature. This was before VCRs, and film strips were cheaper to produce than actual movies. So you'd have this series of still photos run through a projector, with an accompanying cassette tape providing the soundtrack. Every time you'd hear a "BEEP" on the tape, you'd advance the film one frame further.
Everyone wanted to be in charge of the film projector, because it carried with it a sense of power. It was almost like directing the movie yourself, except the actors weren't moving, and there was a "BEEP" telling you when to do things. But still. The problem with letting ordinary kids run the projector was that ordinary kids can be as undependable and shifty as a Swiss person, and it was often unclear which frame the strip should be on when the tape was started anyway, and so the pictures being projected were often out of sync with the soundtrack. Perceptive children such as myself would know almost immediately that we were off-track, but we were powerless to act, as the projector had been entrusted to someone else. Eventually there would be an obvious misalignment -- the narrator would say, "Billy had fun sinning and carrying on in a shameful manner," but the picture projected would match what he was ABOUT to say, which was, "but soon he felt sorry and remorseful" -- and the projectionist would advance a frame or two and catch up. But in the meantime, the soundtrack not matching the images made it impossible to pay attention to the principles being taught, the same way you cannot listen to a sermon delivered by someone whose tie is crooked or whose hair looks funny. (I'm not the only one, right?)
When I was in charge of the projector, I ran a tight ship, let me tell you. I also was not afraid to put my own cinematographic touches on the experience. For example, there was a film called "Leon's Truck," in which a teenage boy saves money to buy a truck only to subsequently wreck it by drinking and driving. When the storyteller said that Leon was drunk, and the accompanying picture showed Leon in an inebriated state, I turned the focus knob on the projector so that Leon and his surroundings looked appropriately fuzzy. This earned a laugh, yes, but I think it also taught a valuable lesson about drinking and driving.
Anyway, probably the most famous film strip of that era was called "Families are Forever," more popularly known as "I'll Build You a Rainbow." The doctrine being taught was that families can continue to be together as a family unit in the afterlife, too, and that we therefore need not be so frightened of death. (Assuming we were righteous, of course. Naughty people should still be afraid.)
"Families are Forever" was a story told in music. The verses were spoken while an acoustic guitar and strings underscored them; then the storyteller would break into the chorus, which was sung. The story was about an 11-year-old boy named Jamey whose best friend in the whole world was his mom. She played football and went on bike rides with him and stuff, and all the other kids on the block said they wished their moms were like Jamey's mom. I'm only guessing here, but I wouldn't be surprised if some of them thought she was hot. I'm just sayin'.
Well, then, wouldn't you know it, she died. Jamey got called home from school early one day and when he arrived, there was an ambulance in the driveway. He went in to see his mom, and she was in bed, and she told him she was dying. The song doesn't tell us what she had, but apparently it came on suddenly. Food poisoning, maybe, or bubonic plague. Anyway, Jamey's all, "You just can't die, Mom! You just can't!" And she tells him not to worry, because families are forever, and she'll be in heaven waiting for him and watching over him, and he's like, "But how will I know that you're really in heaven?" And she thinks a minute, and then the singer bursts into the chorus:
"I'll build you a rainbow way up high above,Send down a sunbeam plumb full of love,Sprinkle down raindrops, teardrops of joy,I'll be happy as springtime watching over my boy."
And then she dies and they haul her away in the ambulance. Jamey and his dad are standing in the driveway and Dad starts crying and Jamey looks up and sure enough, right up there in the sky is one hell of a big rainbow, and Jamey goes, "Dad, Dad, it's all right: Families are forever!" And then the chorus returns, this time with backup singers:
"I'll build you a rainbow (I'll build you a rainbow) way up high above,Send down a sunbeam plumb full of love,Sprinkle down raindrops (sprinkle down raindrops), teardrops of joy,I'll be happy in heaven watching over my boy."
And that's when YOU CRY. No matter who you are, no matter how funny you think the phrase "plumb full of love" is, no matter what kind of a heartless jerk you are, when Jamey looks up and sees that rainbow and tells his dad families are forever, YOU WILL CRY.
Doctrinally, I'm not sure how sound the story is. Not the part about families being together in the afterlife, because I believe that, but the part where newly deceased mothers can barge into heaven and start flinging rainbows around willy-nilly. Don't you have to get approval for that sort of thing? Do people who have just arrived in heaven even know HOW to build rainbows? Besides, there must hundreds of mothers dying every day. They couldn't let them ALL build rainbows, or the skies would be a never-ending kaleidoscope -- but if the moms DON'T build rainbows, will their distraught families assume that means they didn't make it to heaven?
For that matter, what if Mom does go to hell? Could she send word of that development to her family, too, perhaps to warn them not to follow in her footsteps? "I'll build you a forest fire"? "I'll build you a devastating hurricane"? "I'll build you some puppies with deformities"?
I imagine Jamey's mom approaching the first person she sees in heaven and saying this:
"Hi, hey, listen, um, I just got here, and -- what? Oh, food poisoning ... yeah, out of nowhere, really, surprised us all -- anyway, so I just got here, and -- it's kind of embarrassing, really -- but I sorta promised my kid that I'd, um, build him a rainbow? You know, a rainbow? So he could, like, know that I'm here and everything? So ... who do I talk to about that? Is there, like, a department or whatever? Do I need a permit? Are there forms to fill out...?"
While we're on the subject of songs that are supposed to make you cry whose doctrine I find questionable, there's the recent sappy, crappy country hit "Christmas Shoes" (not to be confused with "Live Like You Were Dyin'," "Already There," or any of the other sappy, crappy country hits that are produced at the rate of one song per week). It's about a guy standing in line in a store at Christmastime, and this filthy urchin in front of him is buying a pair of women's shoes, which he declares to be for his mother:
"Sir, I want to buy these shoes for my Mama, pleaseIt's Christmas Eve and these shoes are just her sizeCould you hurry, sir, Daddy says there's not much timeYou see she's been sick for quite a whileAnd I know these shoes would make her smileAnd I want her to look beautiful if Mama meets Jesus tonight"
Because, what, Jesus can't abide a barefoot woman? Or a woman who has shoes on that aren't beautiful? And who says Mama will be wearing shoes when she gets to heaven anyway? I believe the old saying is, "You can't take it with you." Does that not apply to shoes? Is there supposed to be an asterisk next to it?
You can't take it with you.**(except shoes)
Anyway, the kid in the song winds up getting the singer to buy him the shoes, because of course he's too poor to pay for them himself. I picture him thanking the man profusely, then hurrying out the door with the shoes to his mother, who's waiting in the car, smoking a cigarette:
"What took you so long? Here, let's see 'em ... What, these are the best you could find?! Pumps! I told you pumps! These are heels! I can't wear these, they make my feet hurt, you stupid brat! You better get it right at the next store. And would it kill you to cry a little? See if you can get someone to give you some cash, too. Mama can't buy lottery tickets with shoes."
And my question is, does this make me a bad person?
Comments & Reaction:
This column follows a circuitous route to its eventual point, and then turns out not to have one anyway. Long-time "Snide Remarks" fans will recognize this sloppy pattern as being the norm for those beloved old Daily Universe-era columns (1997-1999), and I confess a certain fondness for it, too, even though disorganization and random tangents technically make me a bad writer, not a good one.
I had a cassette tape of the "I'll Build You a Rainbow" song for years, but I can't seem to locate it now. Is it on CD anywhere? If someone has it, send it to me, and I'll put it on the site so that people unfamiliar with it can hear it. It really must be heard.
I do have the sheet music for it, though. So if I ever need to perform it in a show, I'm ready.
At a Christmas party last year, the host and hostess performed "Christmas Shoes" with the express purpose of mocking it. They even made a cue card with the lyrics so that we could join in on the chorus. It was the high point of my holiday season.
I was putting the finishing touches on this column in the presence of my Fat Brother Jeff, who read some of it over my shoulder and insisted I include a reference to rainbow-building "permits." We also had a discussion of an asterisk next to "You can't take it with you," so that's where that came from.
An unfortunate coincidence to my baseless attack on Swiss people is that I happen to know a Swiss person, and she's married to my grandfather, and she's perfectly upstanding. But the expression is "as reliable as a Swiss watch," so I had to go with it. No harm intended (not that Grandma II has Internet access anyway).
(Also, do you like how I said "of course" about Swiss people being dishonest, like everyone knows that? That's awesome.) "
Eric D. Snider. (Written in 2005 by Eric D snider)
Saturday, January 06, 2007
*GET A TAN!*
At the risk of encouraging skin cancer, I offer some profound advice to all my friends. (Mostly the girls)
Many days we wake up and we feel like hell. Our hair looks like crap, the color just seems wrong, it's too short...or too long. Our body feels out of shape and "ugly"....we feel fat...or perhaps for some "Not curvy enough"...we go through these self doubt rampages and basically say, "I SUCK!"...and our self-esteem is in the toilet.
This is damaging and it is wrong! There are many self help books that can help you see the beauty of who you are and help you love yourself. They tell you many helpful ways to overcome these feelings.
For me, those books don't do JACK! I have had to search deep inside myself and find my own solution. The answer came to me on a cold winters night. GO TANNING!!! Some of you already feel embarrassed at the very thought. You wouldn't be caught dead going tanning. Laying in one of those hot ultraviolet beds, wearing the nerdy goggles, listening to a stereo that has terrible sound, and sucking on a cheap piece of candy. BUT....at the end of a few of these sessions, you begin to develop some color! And your world feels lighter! Maybe my hair color isn't so bad, maybe my body isn't so bad!? You begin to walk proudly once again and wake up with a smile on your face.
For those who get claustrophobic, or truly fear skin cancer....I offer another option. "SPRAY ON TAN". I love this one. You step into a sort of box/closet (lack of better words) and your in the "BUCK". And you close your eyes....and then it begins. A chilling spray goes up and down you about 5 times. You turn around and it repeats. You step out, wipe yourself off and walllllah! You are a brown betty. It is like a miracle!
My expert advice recommends that you give it a shot! Take a jaunt down to your local tanning salon, ignore the 18 year old snotty girls who work there and they say "Last name!??" with their overly tanned faces. THEN... just do it! JUST DO IT! EVERYONE IS DOING IT! WHY???....because it is the secret weapon to wiping away your blues!
Words of advice: #1 Start out slow...getting burned is not fun. #2 Take a shower when you come home, or no one will want to be around you. You won't smell like flowers. #3 Pretend
your in Hawaii, sipping a Pina Colada...and that makes it even better!
I hope you enjoy this information and it changes your life. I know it changed mine!
ps. If you live in a warm state, IGNORE this message and just go outside!!!
Thursday, January 04, 2007
*SWEET AFTON*
"Flow gently, sweet Afton, among thy green braesFlow gently, I'll sing thee a song in thy praiseMy Mary's asleep by thy murmuring streamFlow gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her dream
Thou stock dove whose echo resounds thro' the glenYe wild whistly blackbirds in yon thorny denThou green crested lapwing, thy screaming forbearI charge you, disturb not my slumbering fair
Oh, how lofty, sweet Afton, thy neighboring hills Far mark'd with the courses of clear winding rills There daily I wander as noon rises high, oooh My flocks and my Mary's sweet cot in my eye
How pleasant thy banks and green valleys below Where, wild in the woodlands, the primroses blow There oft, as mild evening sweeps over the lea The sweet-scented birk shades my Mary and me
Thy crystal stream, Afton, how lovely it glides And winds by the cot where my Mary resides How wanton thy waters her snowy feet lave As, gathering sweet flowerets, she stems thy clear wave
Flow gently, sweet Afton, among thy green braes Flow gently, sweet river, the theme of my lays My Mary's asleep by thy murmuring stream So flow gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her dreams.)
-Robert Burns
(Photo is the path Robert Burns walked by the Afton River)
Tuesday, January 02, 2007
*CONCERTS*
I thought it would be fun to try and compile all the concerts I've been to. I'm not sure I can remember...but I'll give it a shot.
BARRY MANILO- (AGE 10..I'M NOT JOKING! HAHHA)
RICK SPRINGFIELD- (5 OR 6TH GRADE)
MICHAEL JACKSON- (5TH GRADE...SWEEET! :)
THE BEE GEES- (ELEMENTARY SOMETIME)
CHICAGO-(JR. HIGH)
DOUG STONE- (HIGH SCHOOL)
JOURNEY/REO SPEEDWAGON- (HIGH SCHOOL HA!)
CROSBY STILLS AND NASH- ( HIGH SCHOOL)
JOHN DENVER-(HIGH SCHOOL)
NEIL YOUNG-(HIGH SCHOOL)
DAN FOLGELBERG-(HIGH SCHOOL)
STING-(HIGH SCHOOL)
R.E.M.-(HIGH SCHOOL)
THE SAMPLES-(HIGH SCHOOL)
PETER BREINHOLT-(HIGH SCHOOL)
TOAD THE WET SPROCKET-(HIGH SCHOOL)
FOREIGNER- (HIGH SCHOOL)
JAMES TAYLOR-(HIGH SCHOOL)
TOM PETTY-(HIGH SCHOOL)
U2 (HIGH SCHOOL)
CRASH TEST DUMMIES (AGE 19)
COUNTING CROWS (EARLY 20'S)
TRACY CHAPMAN-(EARLY 20'S)
CHRIS ISAAK-(EARLY 20'S)
BARENAKED LADIES-(LATE 20'S)
NICKEL CREEK-(LATE 20'S)
U2 (ABOUT 5 SHOWS)-(LATE 20'S)
PETE YORN (LATE 2O'S)
BLUE MERLE-(LATE 20'S)
GLEN PHILLIPS-(LATE 20'S)
JOHN MAYER/TEITUR-(LATE 20'S)
TOAD THE WET SPROCKET-(30'S)
GLEN PHILLIPS-(30'S)
BEN KWELLER-(30'S)
U2-(30'S)
DEPECHE MODE-(30'S)
DEF LEPPARD/JOURNEY-(30'S)
PET SHOP BOYS-(30'S)
PETE YORN- (30'S)
(OKAY, THERE IS TONS MORE...I NEED TO ASK MY BEST FRIEND, SINCE I ONLY HAVE HALF A BRAIN RIGHT NOW)
(This list excludes all the dozens of unknown bands I went to)
BARRY MANILO- (AGE 10..I'M NOT JOKING! HAHHA)
RICK SPRINGFIELD- (5 OR 6TH GRADE)
MICHAEL JACKSON- (5TH GRADE...SWEEET! :)
THE BEE GEES- (ELEMENTARY SOMETIME)
CHICAGO-(JR. HIGH)
DOUG STONE- (HIGH SCHOOL)
JOURNEY/REO SPEEDWAGON- (HIGH SCHOOL HA!)
CROSBY STILLS AND NASH- ( HIGH SCHOOL)
JOHN DENVER-(HIGH SCHOOL)
NEIL YOUNG-(HIGH SCHOOL)
DAN FOLGELBERG-(HIGH SCHOOL)
STING-(HIGH SCHOOL)
R.E.M.-(HIGH SCHOOL)
THE SAMPLES-(HIGH SCHOOL)
PETER BREINHOLT-(HIGH SCHOOL)
TOAD THE WET SPROCKET-(HIGH SCHOOL)
FOREIGNER- (HIGH SCHOOL)
JAMES TAYLOR-(HIGH SCHOOL)
TOM PETTY-(HIGH SCHOOL)
U2 (HIGH SCHOOL)
CRASH TEST DUMMIES (AGE 19)
COUNTING CROWS (EARLY 20'S)
TRACY CHAPMAN-(EARLY 20'S)
CHRIS ISAAK-(EARLY 20'S)
BARENAKED LADIES-(LATE 20'S)
NICKEL CREEK-(LATE 20'S)
U2 (ABOUT 5 SHOWS)-(LATE 20'S)
PETE YORN (LATE 2O'S)
BLUE MERLE-(LATE 20'S)
GLEN PHILLIPS-(LATE 20'S)
JOHN MAYER/TEITUR-(LATE 20'S)
TOAD THE WET SPROCKET-(30'S)
GLEN PHILLIPS-(30'S)
BEN KWELLER-(30'S)
U2-(30'S)
DEPECHE MODE-(30'S)
DEF LEPPARD/JOURNEY-(30'S)
PET SHOP BOYS-(30'S)
PETE YORN- (30'S)
(OKAY, THERE IS TONS MORE...I NEED TO ASK MY BEST FRIEND, SINCE I ONLY HAVE HALF A BRAIN RIGHT NOW)
(This list excludes all the dozens of unknown bands I went to)
Tuesday, December 26, 2006
*HOMESICK*
Sometimes I feel this emptiness, this hole in the heart kind of feeling. It has nothing to do with rain or storm, a broken heart, loneliness, unfulfilled wishes or dreams, or just a bad day. It's just deeper than those things....something that took me awhile to put my finger on. But then in a moment of clarity, I knew. I was homesick. That moment of clarity came when I was lying on my back, in my comfortable bed, with my cloud colored sheets, in my warm house, staring up at my favorite glow in the dark moon. I WAS home. But not really. I was missing another home... my real home. My heavenly home. Actually I think this understanding has come at several different times in my life, and I knew what it was, but I had forgotten.
I'm grateful, that as a Latter day saint, I have a knowledge of a pre-earth life. An understanding that I lived with Heavenly parents and the Savior, and I walked in their sight. I was taught under their watchful eyes, and loved by them in a way that can't truly be understood in this life. It was a place of great peace. A place I loved more than anything, and oh how I miss it.
I like these lyrics, "I should just kick my heels together and go home, but I'm not sure where that is anymore." I think a lot of people feel that way. Not because they are moving around from place to place, or they are away from the home they grew up in...or perhaps nothing has ever felt like home to them. But like me, they feel something deeper. They are homesick for their REAL home. (they just don't know it)
Today is just one of those days for me. I miss it. I would love to "kick my heels together and go home".
Just for a visit. :)
Thursday, December 14, 2006
*FREE HUGS*
The day before Thanksgiving, my mother went to pick up several dozen rolls that she had pre-ordered. She had a handfull to carry out to her car and was assited by one of the workers, a young lady. My mom soon realized that she would need to move around some bags she had in the trunk. It took her a minute and she glanced over and told the girl that she could just set them down. My mom soon noticed a far away look in this girls eyes. My mother stopped what she was doing and held her arms out. Without hesitation, this sweet girl walked into my mothers arms and my mom embraced her. The girl quietly cried in her arms. My mom said to her, "You must be so worn down". The girl nodded and explained that she was indeed overwhelmed and tired. After hugging her for several minutes, this girl said "Thank you" and began to walk back into her work. But she soon turned around and said to my mother, "I will never forget you".
I loved hearing of this experience. I loved my mother for being intune with the spirit and offering the love and compassion of the Savior. This happens to be my mothers gift. She doesn't just have four kids, she has hundreds.
I loved hearing of this experience. I loved my mother for being intune with the spirit and offering the love and compassion of the Savior. This happens to be my mothers gift. She doesn't just have four kids, she has hundreds.
The simplicity of a hug. The depths of a hug. I know forsure that we all need them. I also know that it's not always easy to give them. Perhaps we have fear...or maybe we are just to busy thinking of other things.
My friend, Val, sent me this video yesterday. I was touched to say the least. *Big Tears* (not shocking ;) What a good man. What a pure heart. What courage. I wouldn't doubt that he touched many lives. And I would bet that he lifted a burden, brightened a day, and maybe even changed a life. "The door of history turns on small hinges".
Enjoy watching this.
Enjoy watching this.
(This photo is of my best friend Dave giving his father a hug :)
Monday, December 11, 2006
*LUCKY MONEY*
You know those times when you happen to reach inside your pant pocket...or a jacket pocket...and you find a dollar bill? And your like "Saaweeeeet!!". And if it happens to be a bit bigger bill your even more happy.Well...today I heard my cat playing with something on the floor. He always plays with something. Usually one of his toys, fake mouse, or something else. I don't usually notice. But today I noticed the sound was a little different. I looked down to see he was swapping around a folded hundred dollar bill! I grabbed it from under his paw and thought...Ahhh yeah! Today is my lucky day! Who randomly finds a hundred dollar bill?!! But of course my concience always gets the best of me and I wonder where it came from and if someone was missing it. And with that moment of integrity and honesty...I tossed it in my own purse! hahahha
Awhile later I heard my mom walk in. I was in the other room. I sat and thought....grrr....okay fine! "Hey mom...uh...are you missing any money?" ....she replys, "Actually I am"....pause....."Uh how much are you missing?".....reply, "100 dollars"..........(dang!).... " Well...I found it" She was glad. Apparently it had fallen out of her pocket. (Why in the world she was carrying a 100 bucks in her pocket is beyond me!)
So I took it out of my purse and gave it to her. Apparently it wasn't my lucky day. *blank stare*
The moral of the story is this, If you find a dollar in your pocket or a hundred dollars under your cats paw....ask no questions and RUN WITH IT!!!
So I took it out of my purse and gave it to her. Apparently it wasn't my lucky day. *blank stare*
The moral of the story is this, If you find a dollar in your pocket or a hundred dollars under your cats paw....ask no questions and RUN WITH IT!!!
Bahahhaha Just kidding. ;)
During this MAGICAL holiday season *rolling my eyes* I wish you all the experience of finding lucky money! (and getting to KEEP it!):)
Sunday, December 10, 2006
*IF I PERISH, I PERISH*
(I have no idea who wrote this...it was sent to me in an email...with no Author. But I do know that it was a talk from the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.)
"I’d like you to list all of the symbols of fire you can think of:
TG—Fire See also Earth, Cleansing of; Flame; God, Presence of; God, Spirit of; Hell; Holy Ghost, Baptism of; Transfiguration; World, End of;
I think it is ironic that fire not only represents the presence of God, but also hell. Perhaps for some it is the same thing. My mom got an idea that I thought was interesting. She said that she thinks that hell is actually cold, referring to the scriptural phrase, in Matthew, which says “the love of many shall wax cold.” She said that God lives in “Eternal Burnings” and it would actually be hell to live in His presence if you were not worthy. She thought that the final state referred to as “hell” might really be a more comfortable place for those who wish to make it their home.
As a young boy, Daniel was carried captive from Jerusalem to Babylon. He and other promising Hebrew youths—including his friends Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego—were trained in the court of King Nebuchadnezzar. They exercised great courage in refusing to worship the false Gods of the Babylonians. Not only did they refuse to eat the kings’ meat, which was part of the Babylonian ritualistic worship, but they also refused to bow to the idol built by the king.
• King Nebuchadnezzar built a 90 foot tall golden statue in the form of a man and decreed that anyone who would not worship his idol would be cast into a fiery furnace. How did Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego respond to the decree? (See Daniel 3:12.) What did Nebuchadnezzar do when he found out that they would not worship his idol? (Daniel 3:19–20.)
• What did Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego say when the king threatened to throw them in the furnace? (See Daniel 3:16–18.)
What is it about their response that is so inspiring?
They were willing to obey the Lord whether He protected them or not. What was the outcome of their story? Does obedience always result in miracles and freedom from harm? What examples can you think of where it did not?
Sometimes obedience yields great suffering. The people of the Lord have been persecuted for centuries. Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego were Jewish. And I’d like to introduce you to a story of another Jew. His name was Elie Weisel and he lived through the holocaust. He recorded his heart wrenching experience at Auswich in a book called Night. A Christian man by the name of Francois Mauriac wrote the foreword for his book. I’d like to quote a portion of it:
“The child who tells us his story here was one of God’s chosen. From the time he began to think, he lived only for God, studying the Talmud, eager to be initiated into the Kabbalah, wholly dedicated to the Almighty. Have we ever considered the consequence of a less visible, less striking abomination, yet the worst of all, for those of us who have faith; the death of God in the soul of a child who suddenly faces absolute evil?
Let us try to imagine what goes on in his mind as his eyes watch rings of black smoke unfurl in the sky, smoke that emanates from the furnaces into which his little sister and his mother had been thrown after thousands of other victims:
[Quoting a poem written by Elie Weisel he writes]
Never shall I forget that night, the first night in camp, that turned my life into one long night seven times sealed.
Never shall I forget that smoke.
Never shall I forget the small faces of the children whose bodies I saw transformed into smoke under a silent sky.
Never shall I forget those flames that consumed my faith forever.
Never shall I forget the nocturnal silence that deprived me for all eternity of the desire to live.
Never shall I forget those moments that murdered my God and my soul and turned my dreams to ashes.
Never shall I forget those things, even were I condemned to olive as long as God himself.
Never.
It was then that I understood what had first appealed to me about this young Jew: the gaze of a Lazerus risen from the dead yet still held captive in the somber regions into which he had strayed, stumbling over desecrated corpses. For him, Neitzche’s cry articulated an almost physical reality: God is dead, the God of love, of gentlenss and consolation, the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob had, under the watchful gaze of this child, vanished forever into the smoke of the human holocaust demanded by the Race, the most voracious of all idols.
And how many devout Jews endured such a death? On that most horrible day, even among all those other bad days, when the child witnessed the hanging (yes!) of another child who, he tells us, had the face of a sad angel, he heard someone behind him groan:
“For God’s sake, where is God?”
And from within me, I heard a voice answer:
“Where He is? This is where—hanging from this gallows.”
On the last day of the Jewish year, the child is present at the solemn ceremony of Rosh Hashanah. He hears thousands of slaves cry out in unison, “Blessed be the Almighty!” Not so long ago, he too would have knelt down, and with such worship, such awe, such love! But this day, he does not kneel, he stands. The human creature, humiliated and offended in ways that are inconceivable to the mind or the heart, defies the blind and deaf divinity…
And I, who believe that God is love, what answer was there to give my young interlocutor whose dark eyes still held the reflection of the angelic sadness that had appeared one day on the face of a hanged child? What did I say to him? Did I speak to him of that other Jew, this crucified brother who perhaps resembled him and whose cross conquered the world? Did I explain to him that what had been a stumbling block for his faith had become a cornerstone for mine? And that the connection between the cross and human suffering remains, in my view, the key to the unfathomable mystery in which the faith of his childhood was lost? And yet, Zion has risen up again out of the crematoria and the slaughterhouses. The Jewish nation has been resurrected from among its thousands of dead. It is they who have given it new life. We do not know the worth of one single drop of blood, one single tear. All is grace. If the Almighty is the Almighty, the last word for each of us belongs to him. That is what I should have said to the Jewish child. But all I could do was embrace him and weep.
Why doesn’t obedience guarantee our freedom from harm?
Man must exercise his agency and be judged by his choices.
Alma 14
8 And they brought their wives and children together, and whosoever believed or had been taught to believe in the word of God they caused that they should be acast into the fire; and they also brought forth their records which contained the holy scriptures, and cast them into the fire also, that they might be burned and destroyed by fire.
9 And it came to pass that they took Alma and Amulek, and carried them forth to the place of martyrdom, that they might witness the destruction of those who were consumed by fire.
10 And when Amulek saw the pains of the women and children who were consuming in the fire, he also was pained; and he said unto Alma: How can we witness this awful scene? Therefore let us stretch forth our hands, and exercise the power of God which is in us, and save them from the flames.
11 But Alma said unto him: The Spirit constraineth me that I must not stretch forth mine hand; for behold the Lord receiveth them up unto himself, in glory; and he doth suffer that they may do this thing, or that the people may do this thing unto them, according to the hardness of their hearts, that the judgments which he shall exercise upon them in his wrath may be just; and the blood of the innocent shall stand as a witness against them, yea, and cry mightily against them at the last day.
12 Now Amulek said unto Alma: Behold, perhaps they will burn us also.
13 And Alma said: Be it according to the will of the Lord. But, behold, our work is not finished; therefore they burn us not.
We are shaped by our afflictions—How has suffering become a blessing in your life?
To test our faith, or our trust in God
As a young man, I returned home from an eighth-grade basketball tournament dejected, disappointed, and confused. I blurted out to my mother, “I don’t know why we lost—I had faith we’d win!”
I now realize that I did not then know what faith is.
Faith is not bravado, not just a wish, not just a hope. True faith is faith in the Lord Jesus Christ—confidence and trust in Jesus Christ that leads a person to follow Him. 1
Centuries ago, Daniel and his young associates were suddenly thrust from security into the world—a world foreign and intimidating. When Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed-nego refused to bow down and worship a golden image set up by the king, a furious Nebuchadnezzar told them that if they would not worship as commanded, they would immediately be cast into a burning fiery furnace. “And who is that God that shall deliver you out of my hands?” 2
The three young men quickly and confidently responded, “If it be so [if you cast us into the furnace], our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace, and he will deliver us out of thine hand.” That sounds like my eighth-grade kind of faith. But then they demonstrated that they fully understood what faith is. They continued, “But if not, … we will not serve thy gods, nor worship the golden image which thou hast set up.” 3 That is a statement of true faith.
They knew that they could trust God—even if things didn’t turn out the way they hoped…
The world is a testing place for mortal men and women. When we understand that it’s all a test, administered by our Heavenly Father, who wants us to trust in Him and to allow Him to help us, we can then see everything more clearly…
Men accomplish marvelous things by trusting in the Lord and keeping His commandments—by exercising faith even when they don’t know how the Lord is shaping them…
[There are many scriptural accounts of miracles wrought by faith, but]
“others had trial of cruel mockings and scourgings, … bonds and imprisonment:
“They were stoned, they were sawn asunder, were tempted, were slain with the sword: they wandered about … being destitute, afflicted, tormented; … 17
“God having provided some better things for them through their sufferings, for without sufferings they could not be made perfect.” 18
Our scriptures and our history are replete with accounts of God’s great men and women who believed that He would deliver them, but if not, they demonstrated that they would trust and be true.
He has the power, but it’s our test…
We must have the same faith as Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed-nego.
Our God will deliver us from ridicule and persecution, but if not. … Our God will deliver us from sickness and disease, but if not … He will deliver us from loneliness, depression, or fear, but if not. … Our God will deliver us from threats, accusations, and insecurity, but if not. … He will deliver us from death or impairment of loved ones, but if not, … we will trust in the Lord.
Our God will see that we receive justice and fairness, but if not. … He will make sure that we are loved and recognized, but if not. … We will receive a perfect companion and righteous and obedient children, but if not, … we will have faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, knowing that if we do all we can do, we will, in His time and in His way, be delivered and receive all that He has.”
May we each have the courage to faithfully endure our fires; for it is through them that we are prepared to enter and embrace the eternal burnings of heaven."
"I’d like you to list all of the symbols of fire you can think of:
TG—Fire See also Earth, Cleansing of; Flame; God, Presence of; God, Spirit of; Hell; Holy Ghost, Baptism of; Transfiguration; World, End of;
I think it is ironic that fire not only represents the presence of God, but also hell. Perhaps for some it is the same thing. My mom got an idea that I thought was interesting. She said that she thinks that hell is actually cold, referring to the scriptural phrase, in Matthew, which says “the love of many shall wax cold.” She said that God lives in “Eternal Burnings” and it would actually be hell to live in His presence if you were not worthy. She thought that the final state referred to as “hell” might really be a more comfortable place for those who wish to make it their home.
As a young boy, Daniel was carried captive from Jerusalem to Babylon. He and other promising Hebrew youths—including his friends Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego—were trained in the court of King Nebuchadnezzar. They exercised great courage in refusing to worship the false Gods of the Babylonians. Not only did they refuse to eat the kings’ meat, which was part of the Babylonian ritualistic worship, but they also refused to bow to the idol built by the king.
• King Nebuchadnezzar built a 90 foot tall golden statue in the form of a man and decreed that anyone who would not worship his idol would be cast into a fiery furnace. How did Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego respond to the decree? (See Daniel 3:12.) What did Nebuchadnezzar do when he found out that they would not worship his idol? (Daniel 3:19–20.)
• What did Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego say when the king threatened to throw them in the furnace? (See Daniel 3:16–18.)
What is it about their response that is so inspiring?
They were willing to obey the Lord whether He protected them or not. What was the outcome of their story? Does obedience always result in miracles and freedom from harm? What examples can you think of where it did not?
Sometimes obedience yields great suffering. The people of the Lord have been persecuted for centuries. Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego were Jewish. And I’d like to introduce you to a story of another Jew. His name was Elie Weisel and he lived through the holocaust. He recorded his heart wrenching experience at Auswich in a book called Night. A Christian man by the name of Francois Mauriac wrote the foreword for his book. I’d like to quote a portion of it:
“The child who tells us his story here was one of God’s chosen. From the time he began to think, he lived only for God, studying the Talmud, eager to be initiated into the Kabbalah, wholly dedicated to the Almighty. Have we ever considered the consequence of a less visible, less striking abomination, yet the worst of all, for those of us who have faith; the death of God in the soul of a child who suddenly faces absolute evil?
Let us try to imagine what goes on in his mind as his eyes watch rings of black smoke unfurl in the sky, smoke that emanates from the furnaces into which his little sister and his mother had been thrown after thousands of other victims:
[Quoting a poem written by Elie Weisel he writes]
Never shall I forget that night, the first night in camp, that turned my life into one long night seven times sealed.
Never shall I forget that smoke.
Never shall I forget the small faces of the children whose bodies I saw transformed into smoke under a silent sky.
Never shall I forget those flames that consumed my faith forever.
Never shall I forget the nocturnal silence that deprived me for all eternity of the desire to live.
Never shall I forget those moments that murdered my God and my soul and turned my dreams to ashes.
Never shall I forget those things, even were I condemned to olive as long as God himself.
Never.
It was then that I understood what had first appealed to me about this young Jew: the gaze of a Lazerus risen from the dead yet still held captive in the somber regions into which he had strayed, stumbling over desecrated corpses. For him, Neitzche’s cry articulated an almost physical reality: God is dead, the God of love, of gentlenss and consolation, the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob had, under the watchful gaze of this child, vanished forever into the smoke of the human holocaust demanded by the Race, the most voracious of all idols.
And how many devout Jews endured such a death? On that most horrible day, even among all those other bad days, when the child witnessed the hanging (yes!) of another child who, he tells us, had the face of a sad angel, he heard someone behind him groan:
“For God’s sake, where is God?”
And from within me, I heard a voice answer:
“Where He is? This is where—hanging from this gallows.”
On the last day of the Jewish year, the child is present at the solemn ceremony of Rosh Hashanah. He hears thousands of slaves cry out in unison, “Blessed be the Almighty!” Not so long ago, he too would have knelt down, and with such worship, such awe, such love! But this day, he does not kneel, he stands. The human creature, humiliated and offended in ways that are inconceivable to the mind or the heart, defies the blind and deaf divinity…
And I, who believe that God is love, what answer was there to give my young interlocutor whose dark eyes still held the reflection of the angelic sadness that had appeared one day on the face of a hanged child? What did I say to him? Did I speak to him of that other Jew, this crucified brother who perhaps resembled him and whose cross conquered the world? Did I explain to him that what had been a stumbling block for his faith had become a cornerstone for mine? And that the connection between the cross and human suffering remains, in my view, the key to the unfathomable mystery in which the faith of his childhood was lost? And yet, Zion has risen up again out of the crematoria and the slaughterhouses. The Jewish nation has been resurrected from among its thousands of dead. It is they who have given it new life. We do not know the worth of one single drop of blood, one single tear. All is grace. If the Almighty is the Almighty, the last word for each of us belongs to him. That is what I should have said to the Jewish child. But all I could do was embrace him and weep.
Why doesn’t obedience guarantee our freedom from harm?
Man must exercise his agency and be judged by his choices.
Alma 14
8 And they brought their wives and children together, and whosoever believed or had been taught to believe in the word of God they caused that they should be acast into the fire; and they also brought forth their records which contained the holy scriptures, and cast them into the fire also, that they might be burned and destroyed by fire.
9 And it came to pass that they took Alma and Amulek, and carried them forth to the place of martyrdom, that they might witness the destruction of those who were consumed by fire.
10 And when Amulek saw the pains of the women and children who were consuming in the fire, he also was pained; and he said unto Alma: How can we witness this awful scene? Therefore let us stretch forth our hands, and exercise the power of God which is in us, and save them from the flames.
11 But Alma said unto him: The Spirit constraineth me that I must not stretch forth mine hand; for behold the Lord receiveth them up unto himself, in glory; and he doth suffer that they may do this thing, or that the people may do this thing unto them, according to the hardness of their hearts, that the judgments which he shall exercise upon them in his wrath may be just; and the blood of the innocent shall stand as a witness against them, yea, and cry mightily against them at the last day.
12 Now Amulek said unto Alma: Behold, perhaps they will burn us also.
13 And Alma said: Be it according to the will of the Lord. But, behold, our work is not finished; therefore they burn us not.
We are shaped by our afflictions—How has suffering become a blessing in your life?
To test our faith, or our trust in God
As a young man, I returned home from an eighth-grade basketball tournament dejected, disappointed, and confused. I blurted out to my mother, “I don’t know why we lost—I had faith we’d win!”
I now realize that I did not then know what faith is.
Faith is not bravado, not just a wish, not just a hope. True faith is faith in the Lord Jesus Christ—confidence and trust in Jesus Christ that leads a person to follow Him. 1
Centuries ago, Daniel and his young associates were suddenly thrust from security into the world—a world foreign and intimidating. When Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed-nego refused to bow down and worship a golden image set up by the king, a furious Nebuchadnezzar told them that if they would not worship as commanded, they would immediately be cast into a burning fiery furnace. “And who is that God that shall deliver you out of my hands?” 2
The three young men quickly and confidently responded, “If it be so [if you cast us into the furnace], our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace, and he will deliver us out of thine hand.” That sounds like my eighth-grade kind of faith. But then they demonstrated that they fully understood what faith is. They continued, “But if not, … we will not serve thy gods, nor worship the golden image which thou hast set up.” 3 That is a statement of true faith.
They knew that they could trust God—even if things didn’t turn out the way they hoped…
The world is a testing place for mortal men and women. When we understand that it’s all a test, administered by our Heavenly Father, who wants us to trust in Him and to allow Him to help us, we can then see everything more clearly…
Men accomplish marvelous things by trusting in the Lord and keeping His commandments—by exercising faith even when they don’t know how the Lord is shaping them…
[There are many scriptural accounts of miracles wrought by faith, but]
“others had trial of cruel mockings and scourgings, … bonds and imprisonment:
“They were stoned, they were sawn asunder, were tempted, were slain with the sword: they wandered about … being destitute, afflicted, tormented; … 17
“God having provided some better things for them through their sufferings, for without sufferings they could not be made perfect.” 18
Our scriptures and our history are replete with accounts of God’s great men and women who believed that He would deliver them, but if not, they demonstrated that they would trust and be true.
He has the power, but it’s our test…
We must have the same faith as Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed-nego.
Our God will deliver us from ridicule and persecution, but if not. … Our God will deliver us from sickness and disease, but if not … He will deliver us from loneliness, depression, or fear, but if not. … Our God will deliver us from threats, accusations, and insecurity, but if not. … He will deliver us from death or impairment of loved ones, but if not, … we will trust in the Lord.
Our God will see that we receive justice and fairness, but if not. … He will make sure that we are loved and recognized, but if not. … We will receive a perfect companion and righteous and obedient children, but if not, … we will have faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, knowing that if we do all we can do, we will, in His time and in His way, be delivered and receive all that He has.”
May we each have the courage to faithfully endure our fires; for it is through them that we are prepared to enter and embrace the eternal burnings of heaven."
Friday, December 08, 2006
*NO MAN IS A FAILURE WHO HAS FRIENDS*
That is the ending line out of one of the great classics, "It's a wonderful life". "No man is a failure who has friends." How truth those words ring forth to me. My desire and strength to survive the past few years has been little. Infact....that desire mostly slipped through my hands as I lay bound to whatever fate was to come upon me. But one by one....a friend would carry me....they would hold my hand....they would lay by me....they would cry with me...they would offer inspiration or encouragement....they would send me a blue butterfly :)....they would pray for me...they would "bare me up even as upon Eagles wings".
If I were to tell you the thing I am most proud of in my life, it is that I have the greatest blessing of having precious friends. But not just friends....friends who walk with these words engraven in their hearts; "By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to another."
For those who are thinking, "I have no friends or I have very little"....I would say that you are mistaken. If I had power somehow to rent the veil, I promise you that your very own host of friends and loved ones would be standing in reverance as they beheld you. Friends who have loved you long before....who walk with you even now...who watch over you...who know you in ways that only heavenly friends could. I would remind you of the movie "It's a wonderful life" About a man who get's a rare glimpse into what his life would have been like without him, how he changed lives, saved lives, and how many people loved him and needed him.
Our eyes are not always open to those around us who really are our friends. Sometimes our own eyes deceive us. Sometimes we need to pray that our eyes will be open to see with eternal perspective.
I have a saying above my "wall of fame" that says "I get by with a little help from my friends" :) And I do. I really do. :)
If I could leave any legacy upon this earth...it would be that I was a friend to every man or woman who crossed my path. And that the friends I have...would never ever doubt my friendship.
"NO MAN IS A FAILURE WHO HAS FRIENDS"
Friday, December 01, 2006
*THE LAST LEAF*
I have no leaves left on my trees. None. But on my doorstep there was this one beautiful leaf. It made me smile.
*LIFE ISN'T*
"And the world thought she had it all"
Life isn't about keeping score. It's not about how many people call you and it's not about who you've dated, or who your dating. It isn't about your shoes, or your hair, or the color of your skin. It's not about money or clothes. It's not about where you work or the size of your house. Life isn't about how accepted or unaccepted you are. Life just isn't about that.
But...life is about who you love and apologizing to those you've hurt. It's about forgiving. It's about how you feel about yourself. It's about trust, happiness, and compassion. It's about sticking up for the underdog. It's about not judging a book by it's cover. It's about replacing jealousy, overcoming ignorance and indifference, and building confidence. It's about what you say and what you mean. It's about seeing people for who they are and not for what they have. Most of all it's about choosing to use your life to touch someone elses in a way that could never have been achieved otherwise. This is what life is all about.
-Author Unknown
Life isn't about keeping score. It's not about how many people call you and it's not about who you've dated, or who your dating. It isn't about your shoes, or your hair, or the color of your skin. It's not about money or clothes. It's not about where you work or the size of your house. Life isn't about how accepted or unaccepted you are. Life just isn't about that.
But...life is about who you love and apologizing to those you've hurt. It's about forgiving. It's about how you feel about yourself. It's about trust, happiness, and compassion. It's about sticking up for the underdog. It's about not judging a book by it's cover. It's about replacing jealousy, overcoming ignorance and indifference, and building confidence. It's about what you say and what you mean. It's about seeing people for who they are and not for what they have. Most of all it's about choosing to use your life to touch someone elses in a way that could never have been achieved otherwise. This is what life is all about.
-Author Unknown
Monday, November 27, 2006
*PLEASE HEAR WHAT I'M NOT SAYING*
"Don't be fooled by me. Don't be fooled by the mask I wear. For I wear a mask, a thousand masks, masks that I'm afraid to take off, and none of them is me. Pretending is an art that's second nature with me, but don't be fooled, I give you the impression that I'm secure, that all is sunny and unruffled with me, within as well as without, that confidence is my name and coolness my game, that the water's calm and I'm in commandand that I need no one, but don't believe me. My surface may seem smooth but my surface is my mask, ever-varying and ever-concealing. Beneath lies no complacence. Beneath lies confusion, and fear, and aloneness. But I hide this. I don't want anybody to know it. I panic at the thought of my weakness exposed. That's why I frantically create a mask to hide behind, a nonchalant sophisticated facade, to help me pretend, to shield me from the glance that knows. But such a glance is precisely my salvation, my only hope, and I know it. It's the only thing that can liberate me from myself, from my own self-built prison walls, from the barriers I so painstakingly build. It's the only thing that will assure me of what I can't assure myself, that I'm worth something. But I don't tell you this. I don't dare to, I'm afraid. I'm afraid your glance will not be followed by acceptance, will not be followed by love. I'm afraid you'll think less of me, that you'll laugh, and your laugh would kill me. I'm afraid that deep-down I'm nothingand that you will see this and reject me. So I play my game, my desperate pretending game, with a facade of assurance withoutand a trembling child within. So begins the glittering but empty parade of masks, and my life becomes a front. I tell you everything that's really nothing, and nothing of what's everything, of what's crying within me. So when I'm going through my routine do not be fooled by what I'm saying. Please listen carefully and try to hear what I'm not saying, what I'd like to be able to say, what for survival I need to say, but what I can't say. I don't like hiding. I don't like playing superficial phony games. I want to be genuine and spontaneous and me but you've got to help me. You've got to hold out your hand even when that's the last thing I seem to want. Only you can wipe away from my eyes the blank stare of the breathing dead. Only you can call me into aliveness. Each time you're kind, and gentle, and encouraging, each time you try to understand because you really care, my heart begins to grow wings--very small wings, very feeble wings, but wings! With your power, you can breathe life into me. You alone can break down the wall behind which I tremble, you alone can remove my mask, you alone can release me from my shadow-world. Do not pass me by. It will not be easy for you. A long conviction of worthlessness builds strong walls. The nearer you approach to me the blinder I may strike back. It's irrational, but despite what the books say about man often I am irrational. I fight against the very thing I cry out for. But I am told that love is stronger than strong walls and in this lies my hope. Please try to beat down those wallswith firm hands but with gentle hands for a child is very sensitive. Who am I, you may wonder? For I am every man, every woman, every child you meet."
~Charles C. Finn
~Charles C. Finn
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
*ASCENDING OUT OF DARKNESS FORGETFUL*
I recently sent out an email to family and friends, in my efforts to educate more people about depression. I really didn't expect replys...but I got a few. There were many kind comments of support and love offered. I appreciated that so much. But....there was also something else. I'm not really sure how to explain it. There was a handful of people who's words and tone came across as very patronizing. I found myself sitting back in my chair puzzled. Kind of shaking my head. I had flashes of these people...because many of them had also struggled through depression and anxieties....deep struggles of the mind and heart. I had watched them and walked with them. I also watched them be released from these things. The pain and anguish slipping away and becoming invisible before their eyes. What a blessing. But now...here they were living a new kind of life, and they had forgotten. How quick to forget the road they walked.
I wonder about this. I try and think of how many times I have done this. When someone is hurting, do I give them a pat on the back and "wish them luck"?? Do I not take the time to think about them and THINK about what they are really going through? Do I just "Talk the talk" and not "Walk the walk"? And even more important, do they SEE and KNOW that I am not taking their pain lightly.
A few weeks ago, I was having dinner with a friend of mine. We were talking and I found myself sharing a very painful experience that I went through. As I shared this personal moment of my life...I saw his eyes fill with tears as he quietly listened. I paused and an unspeakable gratitude filled my heart. I looked at him and beheld a person who cared enough to not just listen...but to feel what I had gone through. He could never know what that meant to me. Even now it makes me cry. Even now.
I keep thinking about the Savior. Reflecting on his agony and sacrifice. We don't understand the depths of that. Perhaps in this life, we never will. This, more than anything must never be forgotten. HE must never be forgotten.
I like these words; "Take heed to thyself, and keep thy soul diligently, lest thou forget the things which thine eyes have seen, and lest they depart from thy heart all the days of thy life". (Deut 4:9)
We must not forget. Ever. We can and should all strive with greater steps and determined hearts...to never ascend out of our own darkness and the darkness of others...FORGETFUL.
I wonder about this. I try and think of how many times I have done this. When someone is hurting, do I give them a pat on the back and "wish them luck"?? Do I not take the time to think about them and THINK about what they are really going through? Do I just "Talk the talk" and not "Walk the walk"? And even more important, do they SEE and KNOW that I am not taking their pain lightly.
A few weeks ago, I was having dinner with a friend of mine. We were talking and I found myself sharing a very painful experience that I went through. As I shared this personal moment of my life...I saw his eyes fill with tears as he quietly listened. I paused and an unspeakable gratitude filled my heart. I looked at him and beheld a person who cared enough to not just listen...but to feel what I had gone through. He could never know what that meant to me. Even now it makes me cry. Even now.
I keep thinking about the Savior. Reflecting on his agony and sacrifice. We don't understand the depths of that. Perhaps in this life, we never will. This, more than anything must never be forgotten. HE must never be forgotten.
I like these words; "Take heed to thyself, and keep thy soul diligently, lest thou forget the things which thine eyes have seen, and lest they depart from thy heart all the days of thy life". (Deut 4:9)
We must not forget. Ever. We can and should all strive with greater steps and determined hearts...to never ascend out of our own darkness and the darkness of others...FORGETFUL.
Sunday, November 19, 2006
*10,000 MILES*
(Here is a link to the song that you can listen to. It is not my photography...but whoever put it together did a beatufiul job.) 
http://youtube.com/watch?v=3kieyW-FKyQ&feature=related
*10,000 Miles*
"Fare thee well
My own true love
Farewell for a while
I’m going away
But I’ll be back
Though I go 10,000 miles
10,000 miles
My own true love
10,000 miles or more
The rocks may melt
And the seas may burn
If I should not return
Oh don’t you see
That lonesome dove
Sitting on an ivy tree
She’s weeping for
Her own true love
As I shall weep for mine
Oh come ye back
My own true love
And stay a while with me
If I had a friend
All on this earth
You’ve been a friend to me"
~MARY CHAPIN CARPENTER
http://youtube.com/watch?v=3kieyW-FKyQ&feature=related*10,000 Miles*
"Fare thee well
My own true love
Farewell for a while
I’m going away
But I’ll be back
Though I go 10,000 miles
10,000 miles
My own true love
10,000 miles or more
The rocks may melt
And the seas may burn
If I should not return
Oh don’t you see
That lonesome dove
Sitting on an ivy tree
She’s weeping for
Her own true love
As I shall weep for mine
Oh come ye back
My own true love
And stay a while with me
If I had a friend
All on this earth
You’ve been a friend to me"
~MARY CHAPIN CARPENTER
*WYNKEN, BLYNKEN, AND NOD*
*Wynken, Blynken, and Nod"
(This is a poem that I have loved all my life. My mother read it to us when we were little and I have loved it since".
"Wynken, Blynken, and Nod one night
Sailed off in a wooden shoe---
Sailed on a river of crystal light,
Into a sea of dew.
"Where are you going, and what do you wish?"
The old moon asked the three.
"We have come to fish for the herring fish
That live in this beautiful sea;
Nets of silver and gold have we!"
Said Wynken,
Blynken,
And Nod.
The old moon laughed and sang a song,
As they rocked in the wooden shoe,
And the wind that sped them all night long
Ruffled the waves of dew.
The little stars were the herring fish
That lived in that beautiful sea---
"Now cast your nets wherever you wish---
Never afeard are we";
So cried the stars to the fishermen three:
Wynken,
Blynken,
And Nod.
All night long their nets they threw
To the stars in the twinkling foam---
Then down from the skies came the wooden shoe,
Bringing the fishermen home;
'T was all so pretty a sail it seemed
As if it could not be,
And some folks thought 't was a dream they 'd dreamed
Of sailing that beautiful sea---
But I shall name you the fishermen three:
Wynken,
Blynken,
And Nod.
Wynken and Blynken are two little eyes,
And Nod is a little head,
And the wooden shoe that sailed the skies
Is a wee one's trundle-bed.
So shut your eyes while mother sings
Of wonderful sights that be,
And you shall see the beautiful things
As you rock in the misty sea,
Where the old shoe rocked the fishermen three:
Wynken,
Blynken,
And Nod."
~By Eugene Field
"IF THIS LIFE WAS ALL THAT MATTERED"
I found these words about a year ago, by a man from England named Brian Thompson. They seemed to be just for me at that dark and painful hour.
"If this life were all that mattered, if its hopes and fears were all,
How could you squeeze one life into a place so cramped and small?
And if this life were everything, what would we ever do,
with the soul’s own quiet longing, for the land it never knew?
But there is another country and there is another land
There’s a promise waits fulfillment, and there is an outstretched hand.
And a journey to be taken and a destination found,
And my travels won’t be over, till I stand on holy ground.
Because nothing here is like it and nothing else will do
It’s the land of my possessing and the home I was born to.
In my sleep and in my waking, I can hear the call so strong.
And I understand the music, though I have not learnt the song.
There’s a crown and there’s a country, there’s a king and there’s a throne,
There’s a people with a longing and a language all their own.
They are born of tribulation they are born of fire and flood.
They are born of Christ’s own Spirit, they are born of Christ’s own blood.
They are standing in the presence of a God who knows their name
And they shine like stars for beauty and they burn like purest flame:
For they held their lives much cheaper than the Name they held most dear;
And the one they lived and died for, is the one who called them here.
And their praise flows like a river and their worship like the sea,
It’s the sound of many waters, it’s the shout of victory.
They’re the called and they’re the chosen, they’re the ransomed from the fall,
And the witness of the weakest, is the wonder of them all.
They’re his loved and they’re his longed-for, they’re his joy and his delight.
For each one of these he travailed, they are his and his by right
They are near him, and they know him, and now nothing lies between;
For they see no longer darkly, but they see as they are seen.
Every name and every nation, every tribe and every tongue
Gathered here to join the chorus of the song that must be sung,
And the music soars yet higher, like an eagle on the wing
On the day of coronation, of the Christ already King.
Then the books will all be opened and the Book of Life will show,
Those who know the God they’ve come to, those who only claimed to know.
Every sleeping conscience woken, every hidden thing made known,
Every secret refuge shattered, every fond illusion flown.
Every argument grown silent, every last lie swept away,
It’s the final close of business, and the dawn of Judgment Day.
And the tears of godly sorrow and the tears of angry pain,
Will be joined for one brief moment and will never meet again.
For this is no flight of fancy and this is no distant dream.
You are closer than you know and you are nearer than you seem.
There’s a destiny here waiting and a journey to be done;
For the pilgrim and the stranger, for the daughter and the son.
At the last, the waiting over, every perfect thing in place,
No more needing, only knowing, no more growing, only grace.
And the bride in borrowed beauty, shines like crystal in the sun
And the Bridegroom, with delight, declares the wedding feast begun!"
By Brian Thompson from England
"If this life were all that mattered, if its hopes and fears were all,
How could you squeeze one life into a place so cramped and small?
And if this life were everything, what would we ever do,
with the soul’s own quiet longing, for the land it never knew?
But there is another country and there is another land
There’s a promise waits fulfillment, and there is an outstretched hand.
And a journey to be taken and a destination found,
And my travels won’t be over, till I stand on holy ground.
Because nothing here is like it and nothing else will do
It’s the land of my possessing and the home I was born to.
In my sleep and in my waking, I can hear the call so strong.
And I understand the music, though I have not learnt the song.
There’s a crown and there’s a country, there’s a king and there’s a throne,
There’s a people with a longing and a language all their own.
They are born of tribulation they are born of fire and flood.
They are born of Christ’s own Spirit, they are born of Christ’s own blood.
They are standing in the presence of a God who knows their name
And they shine like stars for beauty and they burn like purest flame:
For they held their lives much cheaper than the Name they held most dear;
And the one they lived and died for, is the one who called them here.
And their praise flows like a river and their worship like the sea,
It’s the sound of many waters, it’s the shout of victory.
They’re the called and they’re the chosen, they’re the ransomed from the fall,
And the witness of the weakest, is the wonder of them all.
They’re his loved and they’re his longed-for, they’re his joy and his delight.
For each one of these he travailed, they are his and his by right
They are near him, and they know him, and now nothing lies between;
For they see no longer darkly, but they see as they are seen.
Every name and every nation, every tribe and every tongue
Gathered here to join the chorus of the song that must be sung,
And the music soars yet higher, like an eagle on the wing
On the day of coronation, of the Christ already King.
Then the books will all be opened and the Book of Life will show,
Those who know the God they’ve come to, those who only claimed to know.
Every sleeping conscience woken, every hidden thing made known,
Every secret refuge shattered, every fond illusion flown.
Every argument grown silent, every last lie swept away,
It’s the final close of business, and the dawn of Judgment Day.
And the tears of godly sorrow and the tears of angry pain,
Will be joined for one brief moment and will never meet again.
For this is no flight of fancy and this is no distant dream.
You are closer than you know and you are nearer than you seem.
There’s a destiny here waiting and a journey to be done;
For the pilgrim and the stranger, for the daughter and the son.
At the last, the waiting over, every perfect thing in place,
No more needing, only knowing, no more growing, only grace.
And the bride in borrowed beauty, shines like crystal in the sun
And the Bridegroom, with delight, declares the wedding feast begun!"
By Brian Thompson from England
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