Thoughts

So I felt inclined to buy a poetry book after dad made me less cynical and more ponderous and such. I bought "The best poems of the english language: from chaucer through robert frost" by Harold Bloom. It was more daunting than expected, and has a lot more authors that I don't recognize than I thought as well. But perusing the authors I DO recognize, I came across some 'easy' poetry by Robert Frost. And maybe because it is Robert Frost, and maybe for other reasons...whatever, take it worth a grain of salt, but I found this one to have some meaning in my life as it may or may not pertain to dad. As I am writing this, I also have that thought that I so often have, "...maybe I need to simmer down with sharing so many thoughts I have about dad..." In any case, I have written this much, and I googled the poem and copied and pasted it, so I have gone to too much trouble NOT to post this. All this rambling and you still have to read the poem, try to figure out how I am finding meaning, then, before your imagination has been exhausted on my warped sense, maybe apply some Frost to your life or find meaning in his words somehow for you. OR! just wordlessly tell me to shut up and go on with your Christmas Eve.

The Wood-Pile by Robert Frost

Out walking in the frozen swamp one grey day
I paused and said, "I will turn back from here.
No, I will go on farther--and we shall see."
The hard snow held me, save where now and then
One foot went down. The view was all in Straight up and down of tall slim trees
Too much alike to mark or name a place by
So as to say for certain I was here
Or somewhere else: I was just far from home.
A small bird flew before me. He was careful
To put a tree between us when he lighted,
And say no word to tell me who he was
Who was so foolish as to think what he thought.
He thought that I was after him for a feather--
The white one in his tail; like one who takes
Everything said as personal to himself.
One flight out sideways would have undeceived him.
And then there was a pile of wood for which
I forgot him and let his little fear
Carry him off the way I might have gone,
Without so much as wishing him good-night.
He went behind it to make his last stand.
It was a cord of maple, cut and split
And piled--and measured, four by four by eight.
And not another like it could I see.
No runner tracks in this year's snow looped near it.
And it was older sure than this year's cutting,
Or even last year's or the year's before.
The wood was grey and the bark warping off it
And the pile somewhat sunken. Clematis
Had wound strings round and round it like a bundle.
What held it though on one side was a tree
Still growing, and on one a stake and prop,
These latter about to fall. I thought that only
Someone who lived in turning to fresh tasks
Could so forget his handiwork on which
He spent himself, the labour of his axe,
And leave it there far from a useful fireplace
To warm the frozen swamp as best it could
With the slow smokeless burning of decay.

Joseph Smith Jr.

In honor of Joseph Smith, and somehow my father, I would like to post something in memoory of them and the legacy they left. I was deeply touched the first time I listened to the Nashvilee tribute to Joseph Smith, right after my dad's funeral. Two songs that I really like on there I will post here. One is called The Rising, the other is called Candles. Joseph Smith, as most of us know was quite charismatic, went through more than any other Latter-Day Prophet, and was instrumental in Restoring the fulness of the Gosepel. Through my dad I learned what a man is, and I learned that Joseph was quite the man.

THE RISING

Written by Jason Deere

I told my mother what troubled my heart
I saw the worry as she took me in her arms
I told the preacher, and he looked at me
And I saw the rising that never let me be

Oh the rising
(The boy, the faith, the prayers, the hate)
From weak things the great things
Are rising, rising
(The love, the fear, the fire, the tears)
The persecution, the spirit, the peace

The spirit of God like a fire it spread
Calling the nations put a price upon our heads
Running through darkness and running to light
Praying on our knees for one more day every night

Amid the rising
(The boy, the faith, the prayers, the hate)
From weak things the great things
Are rising, rising
(The love, the fear, the fire, the tears)
The persecution, the spirit, the peace

I don’t know all the answers but I do my best
To live up to the rising that won’t let me rest

Oh the rising…

WB Music Corp (ASCAP)



CANDLES

Written by Jason Deere

Well I’ve heard the people talking
In the fields and in the stores
They say a man is claiming visions
And they don’t want him ‘round here no more
And with questions in my heart
I walked home late last night
And in front of his old farm house
Something caught my eye

I saw a candle burning brightly
Up in his window late last night
And in my heart it gripped me tightly
And something said son what he’s doing’s right
I saw a candle burning bright

Well a vigil got together
And they kicked in his front door
As they drug him on to the back porch
I wondered what all this was for
And I watched him wrench in pain
As the tar burned in his flesh
While a preacher held a candle
Dripping wax upon his chest

I saw a candle burning brightly
Up in his window late last night
And in my heart it gripped me tightly
And something said son what he’s doing’s right
I saw a candle burning bright

Well this morning I was walking
Leaves blowing down that old dirt road
And those feelings just kept stirring deep within my soul
On my lips a silent whisper
Lord please tell me what is right
And then the Spirit danced within me
Like the soft candle light

And I saw a candle burning brightly
Up in his window late last night
And in my heart it gripped me tightly
And something said son what he’s doing’s right
I saw a candle burning bright
And I saw the light

RoadtoNauvoo (ASCAP)

(Playlist.com is very retarded and not user friendly. You have to jump through hoops just to attempt to upload any songs. In the end, posting the audio to these songs proved to be a failure...sorry).

Happy Birthday Dad

Since I got back to South Dakota, I have been endlessly searching for anything with meaning to apply to myself. Anything to give my life meaning. I read my hymnbook at work, listen to songs and read their lyrics, I even bought my first poetry book, similar to the many found on my dad's front room shelves. I have also found new meaning in being not only Christian, but Latter-Day Saint. Everything seems different now and I just feel different about my theology and spirituality. As I look for new meaning, I also find myself slowly floating away and downward. It seems that my subconscious is trying to save me by finding depth in my life through poetry or whatever, because I am losing traction. It seems my relationships aren't where I want them, it seems my place at work isn't where I want it...

It is amazing the peace you feel in one instance, then the next the world and all its creulty is there making sure you get distracted from it. Not forget it entirely, just distracted. In all the works I have found some sort of application in the words, I just feel like posting one today. It is called "Kite" by U2. Bono wrote it for his dad after his death and dedicates it to him. There seems to be a lot of similarities, but maybe I am looking too hard.

Kite

Something is about to give
I can feel it coming
I think I know what it is
I'm not afraid to die
I'm not afraid to live
And when I'm flat on my back
I hope to feel like I did

‘Cause hardness, it sets in
You need some protection
The thinner the skin

I want you to know
That you don't need me anymore
I want you to know
You don't need anyone, anything at all

Who's to say where the wind will take you
Who's to know what it is will break you
I don't know which way the wind will blow
Who's to know when the time has come around
Don't wanna see you cry
I know that this is not goodbye

In summer I can taste the salt in the sea
There's a kite blowing out of control on a breeze
I wonder what's gonna happen to you
You wonder what has happened to me

I'm a man, I'm not a child
A man who sees
The shadow behind your eyes

Who's to say where the wind will take you
Who's to know what it is will break you
I don't know where the wind will blow
Who's to know when the time has come around
I don't wanna see you cry
I know that this is not goodbye

Did I waste it?
Not so much I couldn't taste it
Life should be fragrant
Roof top to the basement
The last of the rock stars
When hip hop drove the big cars
In the time when new media
Was the big idea
That was the big idea




Happy Birthday Dad.

letter from dad, oct. 1999

So I found what I wanted to have there in Utah. A lot of missionaries have this moment on the mission where they don't feel they are in the right place. At this time of struggle in my life, my father imparted some hand-written wisdom to me. This is the whole of it, typed as accurately to what he wrote as possible.


My friend, your ole dad has been revived from the dead long enough to write a letter. If I write nothing else, I love you. Allow me to impart a few thoughts which bring solace to my soul, hoping you will weigh my words and find a few nuggets worth keeping. This comment provokes my first thought said of the pioneers: “They cut desire into short lengths and fed it to the hungry fires of tribulation. Long after those fires had died, molten gold gleamed in the ashes which was gathered in bruised palms then handed to their children and on to their children’s children throughout all generations of time”.
Next I reflect upon Holland’s last conference talk wherein he spoke of hope. No one in mortality is spared the pain and sorrow and difficulty that are inevitable in a fallen world. We all have our share of troubles, and sometimes it may seem we have more than our share. But we must try to remember that our “afflictions shall be but a small moment” and if we “endure it well” God shall exalt us on high. (Read D&C 122) Someday if faithful you and I will sing with our pioneer ancestors, “all is well, all is well.”
I am concerned about a problem that is universal and can, at any given hour, strike anyone anytime, anywhere. I believe it is a form of evil and can have damaging effects that block our growth, dampen our spirits, diminish our hopes, and leave us vulnerable to other more conspicuous evils. There is nothing that Satan uses quite so cunningly or cleverly in his work on missionaries, or in my situation, old men. I speak of doubt, especially self-doubt, of discouragement, and of despair. (Forgive my handwriting, my shoulder is my excuse).
It has been said that “trouble has no necessary connection with discouragement – discouragement has a germ of its own, as different from trouble as a [bad rotator cuff] is different from a stiff joint. Brackets added. We all have troubles, but the “germ” of discouragement is not in the trouble itself; it is in us – or to be more precise, I believe it is in Satan, the prince of darkness, the father of lies. And he would have it be in us. It is frequently a small germ, but it will grow and spread. In fact, it can become almost a habit, a way of thinking, and there the greatest damage is done. Then it takes an increasingly severe toll on our spirits, for it erodes the deepest religious commitments we can make – those of faith, hope and charity. We turn inward and look downward, and these greatest of Christlike virtues are damaged and impaired. We become unhappy, and soon make others unhappy. Then Lucifer laughs!
Some things are not under our control. Some disappointments come regardless of our effort and preparation, for God wishes us to be strong as well as good. We need to drive these experiences into the corner, painful though they may be, and learn from them. Holland wrote, “To those who are trying hard and living right and things still seem burdensome and difficult, I say, take heart. Others have walked that way before you. Do you feel unpopular and different or outside in inside things? Read Noah again. Go out there and take a few whacks on the side of your ark and see what popularity was like in 2500 B.C. Holland continues:
Does the wilderness strech before you in a never-ending sequence of sand dunes? Read Moses again. Calculate the burden of fighting with the pharoahs and then a 40 year assignment in Sinai. Some tasks take time. Accept that. But as the scriptures say, They “come to pass!” They do end. We will cross over Jordan eventually. Others have done it – and so can we.
Are you afraid people don’t like you? The Prophet Joseph Smith could share a few thoughts on the subject. Is pain or health a problem? Surely you will find comfort as you review the lives of many General Authorities and past Prophets of the church who have in some sense become what they are not only in spite of their physical burdens but also in part, because of them. You can take courage from your shared sacrifice that these giants of men have defied disease and even death and have shaken their fists at the forces of darkness and cried when there was hardly strength to walk. (Maxwell, Kimball) “oh Lord, I am yet strong. Give me one more mountain” See Joshua 14: 11-12.
Do you ever feel untalented or incapable or inferior? Would it help you to know that everyone else feels that way too, including the prophets of God? Moses initially resisted his destiny, pleading that he was not eloquent in language. Jeremiah thought himself a child and was afraid of the faces he would meet.
And Enoch? This is the young man who, when called to a seemingly impossible task, said, “Why is it that I have found favor in they sight and am but a lad, and all the people hate me; for I am slow of speech; wherefore am I thy servant?” Moses 6:31. But Enoch was a believer. He stiffened his spine and squared his shoulders and went stuttering on his way. Plain old ungifted inferior Enoch.
And this is what the angels would come to write of him: So great was the faith of Enoch that he led the people of God, and their enemies came to battle against them; and he spake the word of the Lord, and the earth trembled, and the mountains fled, even according to his command; and the rivers of water were turned out of their course; and the roar of the lions was heard out of the wilderness and all nations feared greatly, so powerful was the word of Enoch, and so great was the power of the language which God had given him. Moses 7:13
Too little, too late, inadequate Enoch – whose name is now synonymous with transcendent righteousness! The next time you are tempted to paint your self-portrait dismal gray highlighted with lackluster beige, just remember that so have this kingdom’s most splendid men and women been tempted. I say to you, as Joshua said to the tribes of Isreal, as they faced one of their most difficult tasks, “Sanctify yourselves; for tomorrow the Lord will do wonders among you.” Joshua 3:5
Holland concludes:
1. Pray earnestly and fast with purpose and devotion. Some difficulties, like devils, do not come out save by fasting and by prayer. Ask in righteousness and you will receive. Knock with conviction and it will be opened unto you.
2. Immerse yourself in the scriptures. You will find your own experiences described there. You will find spirit and strength there. You will find solutions and counsel. Nephi says “The words of Christ will tell you all things what you should do” 2 Nephi 32:3
3. Serve others. The heavenly paradox is that only in so doing can you save yourself.
4. Be patient. As Robert Frost wrote, with many things the only way out is through. Keep moving Keep trying.
5. Have faith. “Has the day of miracles ceased?” or have angels ceased to appear unto the children of men? Or has he withheld the power of the Holy Ghost from them? Or will he, so long as time shall last, or the earth shall stand, or there shall be one man upon the face thereof to be saved? Behold I say unto you, Nay: for it is by faith that miracles are wrought; and it is by faith that angels appear and minister unto men. Moroni 7:35-37.
Read 2 Kings 6:14-17
In the gospel of Jesus Christ we have help from both sides of the veil. When disappointment and discouragement strike – and they will – we need to remember that if our eyes could be opened, we would see horses and chariots of fire as far as the eye can see, riding at great speed to come to our protection. They will always be there, the armies of heaven, in defense of Abraham’s seed.
We have been give this promise:
“Ye are little children, and ye have not yet understood how great blessings the Father hath in his own hands and prepared for you; and ye cannot bear all things now; nevertheless, be of good cheer, for I will lead you along. D&C 78:17-18.
I will go before your face. I will be on your right hand and on your left…and mine angels shall be round about you, to bear you up D&C 78:18
The poet wrote:
I came to the swift raging river,
And its roar held the echo of fear.
“Lord, please give me wings to fly over,
If you are, as you’ve promised so near.”
But He said, “Take the grace I am giving,
All pervasive, sufficient for you;
Take my hand, and we’ll face this together,
But my plan is – Not over, but through.”

The race is not to the swift,
Nor the battle to the strong,
But to him who endureth to the end.
I pray for us all to run such race and fight such a battle –
Love Dad
Oct 1999