C. David Belt's Blog, page 24

Time’s Plague is Finished!

I am pleased to announce that the first draft of “Time’s Plague” is complete!  Now on to the revision pass!

Podcast Interview!

Check out my latest podcast interview!

http://selfpub.com/2014/11/21/selfpub-with-df-002-c-david-belt/

Join the Fight

Four more girls have escaped from the monsters of Boko Haram.  The girls report that they escaped from a camp where they were raped daily.  They walked for three weeks to reach safety.

That leaves more than 200 children, precious daughters of God, being held by these inhuman beasts.  These priceless young women are being offered for sale for $12.50 apiece.  The leader of this pack of Islamist vermin released a video in which he addresses the parents of the girls.  In the video, he sneers at the camera and says, “If you knew the state your daughters are in today, it might lead some of you… to die from grief.”  He is proud of his bestial depravity.

Ironically, “Boko Haram” translates roughly to “Western education is sinful.”  In the name of Allah and Mohammed, these Islamist kidnap and rape children.  But teaching girls reading, writing, and arithmetic is sin?  I cannot even begin to understand these fiends.

Amazingly, the Obamas’ twitter campaign has not freed a single girl.  Even more amazing is the idea that we can’t use one of our surveillance satellites to locate the CAMP from which the girls escaped.  I mean, we should know the general area in which to look, given that the four girls could point us in the right direction.  But no, I guess we’d rather rail against the “war on women” in this country.  We’d rather blame Christians (including Mormons) for the evils in the world.

Meanwhile last month, Utah-based (yeah, that means those “evil Mormons” are involved), privately funded Operation Underground Railroad freed more than 100 children aged 10 to 12 from sexual slavery.  And these heroes did it without the help of spy satellites, military drones, or a White House twitter campaign.  They rescued those precious, tender, innocent children with the help of donors like my son Bryan, his wife Jessica, my wife Cindy, and me.

Please join me in the fight against slavery and the real war on women.  Become an abolitionist for as little as $5/month.  https://www.ourrescue.org/  As the OUR website says, “Give a Lincoln, save a slave.”

Gratitude on Veterans Day

My youngest son works as a waiter at a popular Utah restaurant. He’s really good at his job.  I can attest to this, because my wife and I not only frequent his restaurant, but when we are there, we observe how he treats his other customers.  He is friendly, courteous, attentive, prompt, and efficient.  And like every other waiter in this and most other states, he works primarily for tips.  Oh, he receives an hourly wage.  It’s $2.13 per hour.  Let me repeat that: $2.13/hour.  (Yes, I know that technically, if the total of his tips and wages come to less than minimum wage, his employer is supposed to make up the difference.  But frankly, any waiter whose total earnings are consistently less than minimum wage is probably not a very good waiter and does not represent his restaurant well.  Such a waiter would be fired.)

So every night when my son comes home from work, I ask him, “So, how much did you make?” The amount varies widely due to a number of factors, from how busy they were to whether or not somebody stiffed him on a tip.  Most nights, he does very well.  That’s one reason he likes his job.  He likes making people happy and he enjoys the rewards that come with performing great service.

Other nights, he doesn’t receive much. The restaurant may have been slow, perhaps, but the most common reason is that one or more customers left little or no tip.  Provo is a university town, so some of the people that leave no tip are college students on a limited budget.  Many of them work for minimum wage and justify leaving no tip, because they “can’t afford” it.  While I understand being poor all too well, if you can afford to go to a sit-down restaurant, you should be able to afford the tip.  Remember, the guy or gal you just stiffed is working hard for low wages too.  But occasionally, something goes wrong with the meal.  Perhaps, the steak is overcooked or undercooked.  Perhaps one of the orders takes a bit longer than the others.  Perhaps the kitchen staff is simply running behind and the meal takes a long time.  Perhaps the Sprite you ordered turns out to be just carbonated water.  And when such “disasters” happen, the waiter should do everything in his power to fix it.  I’ve observed my son when such glitches occur, and he does just that: even though he is not at fault, he apologizes and scrambles to “make it right.”  And still, some people feel justified in punishing him when there is some snafu in their meal.  Perhaps they think they are punishing the restaurant by stiffing the waiter, but it isn’t the restaurant that is hurt; only the waiters, like my son.

One night, in another restaurant, I watched as a family of four spilled all four of their drinks. The waitress, even though she had been nowhere near the table when the accident occurred, scrambled to clean everything up and make the family as comfortable as possible.  She was very attentive and sweet in the way she handled the situation.  She even apologized!  The family complained bitterly and loudly about the accident (which they, themselves had caused), and left no tip for the waitress.  I felt so bad for her, that I left her a tip that was four times what I normally do.

I always tip my server. Even if they do a less than stellar job, I at least leave the minimum.  Even if there is something wrong with my meal, as long as the server does his or her job, I always tip generously, because I too have been a waiter.  I know how hard and thankless the job can be.  I don’t blame servers for the mistakes of others.  And if the SERVER makes a mistake, but still tries to “make it right” or make up for the mistake, I’m still going to tip that server well.  It’s not only part of the price of the meal, it is a sincere thank you for the service they perform.  If you have a problem with the food or the restaurant that the server cannot “make right,” take it up with the chef or the manager.

I am a USAF veteran. I am proud of my service to my country.  I didn’t do it for the money or the military benefits.  The pay is lousy and the benefits are shrinking.  I flew B-52 bombers.  Even in peacetime, that’s a very dangerous job.  I lost friends who flew the B-52 during peacetime.  I didn’t do it for the accolades and gratitude of my countrymen.  I served, because I loved serving.  I loved flying that big, old, ugly aircraft.  I loved serving, because I believe that the price of freedom is the blood and vigilance of the righteous.  And I knew that every time I flew there was a chance I might not come back.  I knew that every time I served a week of alert, ready to launch and hit my assigned targets at a moment’s notice, there was a chance I might actually have to launch and leave my family behind to certain death (because if we had to launch, the Soviet missiles were already in the air), fly into a nuclear war zone, face enemy fire, drop my bombs, and turn around and prepare to launch again.  Every time that klaxon went off, we would scramble to our jets, start the engines, and decode the encrypted orders to see if this was just another unannounced drill or the real thing.  And the truth was, when the klaxon blared, you never knew. Now I said that I didn’t serve for the gratitude of fellow Americans, but on the other hand, it surprised, shocked, and sickened me when my countrymen, whose freedoms I was trying to preserve, would mock, scream obscenities, or even physically attack uniformed service members. It was far worse when the same was directed at our families.

Now perhaps some of the haters truly believed in the righteousness of their cause. Some believe that the price of peace is capitulation and surrender.  The enemy will never truly attack, they say.  Besides, they say, it is our national policies that bring upon us the ire of our enemies.  While I don’t agree with them, I support their right to believe as they do.  However, I have observed that some who opposed the first and second Gulf Wars now support our current wars, because their guy is now in office.  I have also observed that some who supported the two presidents Bush now oppose the same actions when led by the other political party.

Perhaps they have a beef with how the wars are being run. I know that I have strong concerns with how this administration is conducting the wars.  (Yes, that is wars plural.)  But that is the fault of the leaders that we elected, not of the soldiers, airmen, sailors, marines, and coast guards.  They don’t make the policy.  They simply put their lives on the line.  And they sacrifice limbs and lives to allow us the freedom to gripe and complain.  If you have a problem with the way the war is being fought, take it up with the president or the congress.

So take some time to thank a man or woman in uniform today. Take a moment out of your day to thank a veteran for his or her service.  And while you’re at it, don’t forget the wives and husbands of those who laid their lives and limbs on the altar of freedom.  The service of those who wait at home is every bit as vital as the service of those who wear or wore the uniform and even more unsung.

I couldn’t have done what I did without the support of my wife. Thank you, sweetheart, for your years of service.

And next time you go out to dinner, remember the man or woman who is busting his or her butt for $2.13/hour.

Not Dead Yet

Playing a game of Risk with me is no fun. This isn’t because I always win.  On the contrary, my win/loss ratio is nothing to boast about.  The reason it’s no fun is because I never quit.  Never.  I will fight down to the last army.  If I can, I will always secure Australia and hole up there if necessary.  And when things get that desperate, it’s almost guaranteed that I’ll lose.  The other players just want me to give up, surrender, and let them get on with the game of conquering the world.  After all, it’ll go much faster as soon as I do.

But, like a mouse in the jaws of a cat, I’ll bite and scratch until my last breath. Who knows? Maybe I’ll chomp into an artery and the cat will bleed to death.  It’s unlikely, but it will NOT happen if I don’t fight back.  While I’m alive, I can at least fight.  I can’t fight once I’m dead.

And once, I emerged from Australia and swept the board.

As J. Michael Straczynski said in the Babylon 5 (channeling Captain John Sheridan), “If you’re falling off a cliff, you may as well try to fly.  You’ve got nothing to lose.”

In USAF Survival School, I learned the story of a pilot in Canada who ran out of fuel in bad weather. He was forced to land on a glacier.  He climbed out of his fighter, smoked a cigarette, walked around his fighter, smoked another cigarette, and then shot himself.  One can only assume that he was afraid to die in that cold frozen wasteland.  As it turned out, he was only a few miles from civilization.  He could have walked to safety.

In ancient Sparta, when a son marched off to battle, his mother would say, “Come back bearing your shield—or on it.”  If he returned from battle being carried on his shield, at least he died fighting.  If he returned from battle without his shield, it was a cause of great shame to his mother.

We’ve all had setbacks in our lives.  We have all suffered disappointment, heartache, and tragedy.  We have all suffered wrongs at the hands of others.  Likewise, we have all sinned, offended, disappointed, and wronged others.

We are all broken.  We are all damaged.

But there is One who can heal all our hurts, mend all our damage.  And He will never abandon us.

Do not give in to despair. That is the enemy talking. He wants you to give up.

Fight on. Fight till the end. And never surrender.

No matter how broken you are, you’re not dead yet.

Twelve Dollars and Fifty Cents

My wife and I recently rescued a cat. We call her Tikki.  She was a shelter animal.  She’s a sweet little thing: a gray tabby, affectionate, and utterly adorable.

I’m sure we could have found someone giving away free kittens or even an adult cat, but my wife wanted to save a life.

It cost us $40 to rescue her.

As I mentioned in May in this blog, during the night of April 14-15 this year, 276 Christian schoolgirls, aged 16-18, were kidnapped by Boko Haram, an Islamist terrorist group. Some of the girls escaped, but at least 200 girls are still in captivity.  They have been raped, forcibly “converted” to Islam, and forcibly “married” to their fiendish kidnappers or sold into sexual slavery.

The going price for one of these precious daughters of God?

$12.50.

For that amount of money, I can buy a bottle of bug spray, a can-opener, a Dr. Seuss book, or a ticket to the movies. A cat is valued at more than 3 times the value of a priceless child.

Or if I were a subhuman fiend who believes that women and girls have no value beyond breeding and sexual gratification, I could purchase a girl to rape.

The abductions made the news for a little while. We were outraged.  The US military launched a single surveillance drone to search for these precious girls and the vicious animals who took them, raped them, and sold them for the price of a bottle of Raid.  16 US soldiers joined in the search.

Oh, and of course, the president and first lady of the United States launched a Twitter campaign.

That was back in May. After the initial news reports and the oh-so-effective social media blitz, we have been unable to rescue a single child or locate the pack of predators who took them.  I wonder if we are even looking anymore.  The Twitter campaign certainly isn’t trending right now.

Maybe we just don’t care anymore.

I mean, hey, we have to stop Hobby Lobby and the Mormon Church from waging a war on women, right?

I don’t know how to help the victims of Boko Haram, except to name the monsters. Boko Haram and their ilk are evil.  Evil.  I don’t care what they claim their motivations are.  They claim to serve God.  But they are not godly.  They are evil.

I don’t know how to help their victims, but I do know how to help victims of other demons like Boko Haram.

Please check out Operation Underground Railroad at https://www.ourrescue.org/ .

These brave men are actively rescuing children from the sexual slavery. Give them $12.50 or more.  See what they can do with it.  My wife and I support OUR.  In August, our small contributions helped rescue 26 girls.

26 precious children rescued from sexual slavery.

May we never forget the victims.

The Mormon Tabernacle Choir in Forbes Magazine!

This is a great article.  Well worth the read.

http://www.forbes.com/sites/rodgerdeanduncan/2014/09/08/5-leadership-lessons-from-the-mormon-tabernacle-choir/

The Song of the Heart

When I was 16, my family moved to Poplar Bluff, MO.  At the time, there was only a very small branch of the Church there.  One of the members of the branch was old Grandville Dewey Sparks, or GD Sparks, as he liked to be called.  He could read only a few words.  He knew only one scripture which he quoted (badly) as the answer to every question or situation.  Well, he didn’t exactly quote it, he would just say, “It’s like the Lord says about that old SLOTHFUL SERVANT…”  That was it.  When it came time to sing the hymns in church, he would follow along in the hymnbook with his finger and sing out loud the words that he knew: “WE hmm hmm hmm GOD hmm A hmm hmm TO hmm US IN hmm hmm hmm hmm WE hmm hmm hmm hmm hmm THE hmm hmm TO hmm hmm hmm hmm hmm hmm hmm.”  What words he didn’t know, he made up for in enthusiasm with the words that he did. 

In one ward where we lived, we used to sit right next to a family where the husband sang hardly at all, but his wife made up for both of them, singing joyfully off-key.  When, I say “joyfully,” I mean it.  She really enjoyed singing in church. 

And I loved her enthusiasm.

When I was very young, my father was in a bishopric in a ward in Wyoming.  One Sunday after sacrament meeting, one of the sisters in the ward came up to him and said, “Brother Belt, you really need to turn the microphone off when we sing the hymns.  We can all hear you quite clearly, and you cannot hold a tune.”  My father did not sing in church above a whisper for decades.  When I was about 6 years old, I was sitting in district conference in Manila in the Philippines.  My father was the district president and was sitting on the stand (not singing).  There was a woman sitting behind me, a Philippino, with a beautiful, strong, soprano voice.  She was singing out her joy to the Lord.  I was so entranced with her singing that I turned around and stared at her.  She misinterpreted my stare and quieted down.  I have felt horrible about that ever since. 

You see, the Psalmist says, “Make a joyful noise unto God, all ye lands: Sing forth the honour of his name: make his praise glorious.” (Ps.  66:1-2.) In the Doctrine and Covenants, the Lord says, “For my soul delighteth in the song of the heart; yea, the song of the righteous is a prayer unto me, and it shall be answered with a blessing upon their heads.” (D&C 25:12)  Nowhere in the scriptures does it say that you have to sing in tune.  It just says that you should sing.  From your heart.  Sing with joy.

I have attended youth meetings where some embarrassed MIA maid or laurel stands up in front of the congregation, barely waving her hand, leading a congregation of youth mumbling out the words to a single verse of “Come, Come, Ye Saints.”  When I used to substitute in early morning seminary, the students would only go through the motions of singing at the beginning of the class. 

When I was stationed at an Air Force base in Florida for 3 months, and my children were very young, we decided to take the family down there.  We were in a small branch of mostly new converts.  They were unfamiliar with most of the hymns.  On our first Sunday there, we arrived a minute or two late and so sat down quickly as we were about to sing the opening hymn.  Nobody in the congregation knew the hymn.  At all.  You know how it is when you sing one of the new hymns in sacrament meeting for the first time?  That was it on steroids.  So I sang it out and I was pretty much the only one singing.  Right after the hymn, my second son, who was sitting in my lap, said quite loudly, “Daddy, why do you have to sing so LOUD?” 

I clapped my hand over his mouth and said, “Quiet, son!  We are about to pray!”  I kept right on singing, mostly alone at first, as long as we were stationed there.  Before we left that branch when my tour there was over, more people were singing and they were singing out. 

We just need to sing.  Sing our joy to the Lord.  Singing the hymns should not be a burden or an embarrassment.  It should be a joy. 

In “For the Strength of Youth” we read:

“Music is an important and powerful part of life. It can be an influence for good that helps you draw closer to Heavenly Father. However, it can also be used for wicked purposes. Unworthy music may seem harmless, but it can have evil effects on your mind and spirit.

“Choose carefully the music you listen to. Pay attention to how you feel when you are listening. Don’t listen to music that drives away the Spirit, encourages immorality, glorifies violence, uses foul or offensive language, or promotes Satanism or other evil practices” (“Music and Dancing,” 20).

This applies to adults every bit as much as it applies to the youth. 

I remember a conversation that I had with my priest quorum advisor about the evils of rock and roll when I was a young man.  Yes, they called it rock and roll even WAY BACK THEN.  He was telling me how horrible the content of all rock and roll was.  It was all about sex and drugs he said.  He told me that I should listen to country music instead.  I asked him if he had ever really listened to country music.  Virtually every song I could remember was about one or more of the following themes:  My wife left me; My dog left me; I drink too much; I cheated on my wife; I went hunting with another dog; my dog drinks too much.  You get the picture. 

There is good and bad in every style of music.  OK, well, probably not RAP…  And then there is the argument of the immoral character of the artists themselves.  Before you go down that road, however, take a look at the lives of Wagner, Liszt, and Tchaikovsky.  I mean, even Gene Simmons and K.I.S.S. produced a beautiful, tender song in the midst of all of their other… stuff. 

I have a passion for Celtic music.  I found an internet radio station that plays Celtic music.  I was delighted, but I soon found that many, OK, MOST of the songs played were far too raunchy. 

The type of music that we enjoy is very personal.  It evokes fond memories of childhood, first dates, first kisses, holding your newborn baby in your arms for the first time, and so on.  If someone attacks the type of music you enjoy, the music which evokes these strong memories and emotions, that attack becomes very personal.  However, we need to be very selective about the music that we choose to listen to and expose ourselves to.  We all need to take a critical look at the music that we listen to, that we have already purchased and have on our iPods and phones, on our Pandora channel, and in our CD collections. 

Consider the lyrics of this song that was very popular when I was a child:

 

You think you lost your love.

Well, I saw her yesterday—

It’s you she’s thinking of,

And she told me what to say.

She says she loves you,

And you know that can’t be bad;

Yes, she loves you,

And you know you should be glad.

Whoooo.

She loves you,

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

She loves you,

Yeah, yeah, yeah.

She loves you,

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.

 

Or perhaps the following:

 

The bird, bird, bird.

The bird is the word.

Oh, yes, the bird, bird, bird.

The bird is the word.

Have you heard about the bird?

The bird, bird, bird.

The bird is the word.

This is not exactly great poetry.  But, set this to a catchy tune, and you have a hit.  I loved this song when I was younger.  This is innocuous fare, but you can also package something insidious with a catchy tune or a good beat.  It used to be that code words were used to talk about evil in popular music to disguise the immoral subject matter, however, today evil is often expressed and promoted openly. 

Just last week, I was driving my wife’s car and I turned on her radio.  On the station she normally listens to, I heard a song that spoke explicitly about a teenage girl—the singer was very specific about the fact that she was a teenage girl—planning on losing her virginity with some boy, and how special it would be, and how she hoped he would still love her afterward.  The tune was sweet, and the singer performed the song in a soft and tender manner, but the words!  I was sickened. 

I was raised on Broadway and Hollywood show tunes.  And yet, today we have popular musicals that use the crudest of language and promote the vilest of subjects.  Don’t get me wrong: I understand that evil needs to be portrayed in the theatre, but it needs to be portrayed in context, not as the be-all-end-all point of the whole show. 

I try very hard to keep on top of what I listen to.  When my children lived at home, I tried very hard to keep on top of what my children listened to.  One of my sons (the one who sat on my lap in the Florida branch) as a teenager really enjoyed a song by a certain band.  I listened to the song and read the lyrics and it was fine.  A nice song.  ALL of the rest of the songs on the album, however, were about drug use, suicide, pre-marital sex, and rape.  Music from another band on a particular album that he wanted to buy, because the music was featured in a movie that we all liked, was not bad per se, but every song was about loss and sadness and hopelessness.  In the context of the movie, it worked, but can you imagine listening to such depressing fare over and over?  The music (the tune and the harmony) itself was beautiful, but the content, the lyrics, were very depressing.  Another band that he liked sang songs about themes that were all very appropriate (at least on that album).  However, the music was so loud that the message was drowned out.  It is hard to get the message across about how much you love your wife and your son or the infinite love of God when you are screaming it in a tuneless yell. 

Even if you cannot understand the lyrics or really don’t pay attention to them, you will still listen to music you like over and over again.  Eventually the lyrics will come to your mind.  If you listen to music that demeans women, promotes violence, disrespect for the law, hatred, drug use, suicide, or sex, the lyrics become ingrained in your soul.  You never forget them. 

When I was in 8th grade, I had to memorize a list of prepositions.  I put them to a familiar tune.  I can still remember most of them:  Aboard, About, Above, According to, Across, After, Against, Along… 

You never forget.

Music makes you FEEL deep emotions, helps you to envision things.  A movie with the wrong music or with no music at all lacks impact.  Just TRY to imagine Star Wars without John Williams’ dramatic music.  A good score makes all the difference.  For all the insight and brilliance of George Bernard Shaw, “Pygmalion” does not have half the impact of “My Fair Lady”.  After seeing “Les Miserables” or listening to the music, watching a well-done, non-musical version of the story is a huge let-down.

Music can make you tap your foot without realizing it.  It can quicken your heartbeat, your breathing, and cause other physiological reactions.  It can bring tears to your eyes.  It can drive the Spirit away and it can invite the Spirit into your life. 

Music is important to the Lord.  In ancient times, there were whole orders of the Aaronic Priesthood that were devoted to music.  Music was their priesthood office.  As a member of the Tabernacle Choir, I am a musical missionary.  It is an actual mission call.  There is a rigorous audition process lasting six months—and only about 10% or less of those who audition make it into the Choir—but your mission call is signed by the prophet of the Lord, and you are set apart.  Your bishop and stake president have to sign a letter acknowledging that you cannot be called to anything else that might interfere with your mission call. 

Music is a language that all people can understand.  It touches their hearts.  It opens doors that would never be opened otherwise.  I have a friend at work, who is not a member of the church, who moved to Utah only last year.  He told me that he listens to “Music and the Spoken Word” every Sunday.  He has done so since he was a child. 

So, if music can be used to teach evil, it can also be used to teach the gospel.  Consider the simple beauty of “I Am a Child of God”.  Think of the principles that it teaches to little children!  We are children of a loving Father.  He sent us to loving, earthly parents.  We can inherit Celestial glory if we but learn His word and do His will.  Think of the courage and faith that is called to mind in “Come, Come, Ye Saints”!  Why would you EVER sing that song as if you were embarrassed?  Think of the comfort and redeeming love expressed in “I Stand All Amazed!”  During the sacrament, take some time to really read and ponder the words of the sacrament hymn that you have just sung. 

Unfortunately, we have a tendency to SKIP some of the best verses in our hymns.  There are seven verses in “How Firm a Foundation”.  We usually sing only the first 3.  The final four have the real impact of the song.  Imagine telling the story of Sleeping Beauty and stopping when she pricks her finger on the spindle of a spinning wheel.  “Nearer, My God, To Thee” loses its whole message if you stop after 3 verses.  It is about Jacob’s vision at Bethel, his realization that God loves us and is sending us revelation on how to return to him.  Without the last two verses, we lose that.  I know that sometimes there are time constraints, but we should PLAN to sing all the verses.

Before and after sacrament meeting, listen to the familiar melodies of the hymns played as prelude and postlude.  Arrive early and sit quietly and listen for the Spirit.  Pray silently as the prelude plays.  Linger after the meeting and listen quietly as the postlude plays, rather than visit and talk loudly in the chapel.  Elder Jay E. Jensen said:

“Hymns ‘create a feeling of reverence.’ The words reverence and revelation are like twins who like each other’s company. When the Seventy and Presiding Bishopric are invited to meetings with the First Presidency and the Twelve, we are reminded to arrive early and reverently listen to prelude music. Doing so invites revelation and prepares us for the meeting.

President Packer taught that a member who softly plays “prelude music from the hymnbook tempers our feelings and causes us to go over in our minds the lyrics which teach the peaceable things of the kingdom. If we will listen, they are teaching the gospel, for the hymns of the Restoration are, in fact, a course in doctrine!”

Probably the most intense spiritual experience of my life occurred on a cold morning in the mountains of Washington on the shore of glacial lake.  I was a scoutmaster leading deacons-quorum-age Boy Scouts on a 50 mile hike.  I had awakened early before anyone else.  It was very cold.  There was a mist on the surface of the lake.  The beauty of the mountains, the trees, the lake, the song of the birds struck me to the heart.  The hymn, “How Great Thou Art”, came to my mind.  I quietly sang the hymn to no-one but God and myself.  The feelings that swelled in my heart were so intense.  The Spirit spoke to me, and I felt the power and majesty of creation, the power of my God, His mercy in sending His Son, the Savior’s love for me, for me as an individual.  I knew that He loved me personally and made all of this so that I could be truly happy, so that I could return to my God, cleansed of all my sins, to be reunited eternally with my beloved wife and my children, reunited with all my ancestors and all my descendants, to the first and last generations.  I knew that love truly can last forever. 

I know that my Redeemer lives.  I know it. 

Rejoice in the hymns.  Worship God through song.  You don’t have to sing well.  Just sing.  Sing with your all your heart. 

Wonderful Address: Is This a Woman’s Church?

This is a long talk, but it’s worth every word! 

http://www.fairmormon.org/perspectives/fair-conferences/2014-fairmormon-conference/womans-church

 

Images of Shuttle From “Time’s Plague”