Koda

     I know there's a movie called "All Dogs Go To Heaven" but I've never seen it. Never wanted to, and probably never will; But given recent events, I've had to contemplate the thought in great detail. My family will probably be more vocal about the whole thing than I will, but even so it's been a few hours and I have to get it out of my system. I'd love to know what dogs think about us, how they feel. I can't imagine I'll ever know. We got Koda as a puppy when I was pretty young, and I remember his nameless days, trying to decide whether to call him Scout or Koda. I guess we stuck with the latter because Brother Bear had just come out, and he kind of reminded us of a cute little bear cub. Thus his nickname was Koda Bear. He was kind of a silly dog, afraid of snakes and small dogs, didn't really like cats, but wasn't active enough to contend with them. He had a thing for squirrels. I sound like an animal lover and I'm really not, but I was a Koda lover. Still am. It's a bittersweet thing to lose a dog. I know he'll be in heaven waiting for us when we die, and maybe that sounds silly; but to me, at this moment, I don't care. I will miss him. I already do. As he was panting and breathing haggardly a couple of hours ago, we said a prayer. To know what to do, to know how to deal with his passing, and that peace would be with us if he died. I should have known it would come, he's been so sick for so long. But that prayer for peace helped. I feel comforted that something I have loved so dearly for much of my life will be with me again. I can only imagine how that must feel with family members that cross the veil once more to live with Heavenly Father again. Losing an earthly companion is challenging, but we have to get beyond this trial just like every other one that comes our way. The way I see it, better now than later.

You are His Child

     Last night I accompanied several of the young women to a hospital in Plano to sing to the eldest priesthood member in our ward. Brother Johnson has been sick for a long time, and soon it will be his joy to join our Father in Heaven once more. As we came in to say hello and sing, Brother Johnson's grandson was there with his wife, and they were visiting him and checking up on him. We came in and asked whether it was okay to sing a few songs, and being the delightful man that he appeared to be, said yes. We sang simply "I am a Child of God". How beautiful such simple words are in times like these. He teared up, and so did I. One of my dear friends beside me, whom I have never known to cry, teared up as well and it brought me such joy that she was touched by the spirit. We sang several other hymns and primary songs, and lastly as we sang "God be with You Till we Meet Again", he sang with us. Silent tears accompanied the music, along with a spirit stronger than I've felt in a very long time. He bore his sweet testimony to us, and said, "I want you to know that this church is true. I know it."
    After we sang to him a woman asked us to sing to her friend's mother. In the room were four women, who did not (to me) appear to be christian. One in bed, very sick. Her daughter, a younger woman, stood by her bedside, stroking her hair and holding her hand. The two other women were friends. We gathered around and began to sing. I was not overwhelmed by the spirit until we sang "A Child's Prayer." These words especially brought tears to my eyes as I watched the woman in the bed.
"Pray, He is there. Speak, He is listening.
You are His child, His love now surrounds you"
I realized then, with this strong overwhelming feeling, how much our Heavenly Father loves each and every one of us. I could feel His love for this woman. I felt it. "You are His child, His love now surrounds you." I could feel how happy He was that she was coming home. Oh, how much our Father must miss us while we are here, away from Him: Sinning, Learning, Hurting, Laughing, Trying, Becoming.
   It made me realize that because he loves His children so much, He wants them to live with Him again and we are the disciples. We do His work. Missionary work is so very important. Not only missionary work, but family history work. I have come to realize that they go hand in hand. When you save a soul, you gave generations. You allow them to be woven together in the gospel. The families that are blessed in this present earth life, the families that will be blessed in the generations hereafter, and the families that came before, who did not have the opportunity to know the truth that their descendants now know. We have the power and potential to save thousands of souls, and to allow them to have what we may have, so long as we are righteous: Exaltation. Eternal life with our Heavenly Father and our brother Jesus Christ. That alone should be motivation enough for anything.

Breathing

The sty in my eye is throbbing

Keeping my thoughts away from this

The ache in my toes is increasing

So I believe there’s something amiss

The pain feels great, though, in contrast

To what I’ve experienced before

I cannot wish this all away

Because I’ve already closed the door

Breathe slower, run faster, run longer

I close my eyes for a moment or two

As I feel the wind upon my face

I don’t think to keep going, I just do.

Dogs somewhere are barking

A rooster now belts his morning song

A rainbow is in the sky beside me

I wonder if it’s been there all along

For though my breathing is ragged

And the sweat runs down my neck

I know that I’m in complete control,

I keep my own life in check.

The sky now shows its true colors

The sun rises as I slow to a walk

 I breathe and let my heart recover

As the robins begin their talk.

But A Small Moment

I'm a firm believer that the Lord shows His hand in the times we need it the most. Through my struggles in finding affordable school housing, I have learned to look at the bigger picture. My parents are one of the greatest blessings I have received on this earth. As we were talking about finances for BYU, she looked at me and said, "You know, Joseph Smith was in Liberty Jail for 9 months though the coldest winter of the century." Here I am complaining about the lack of money, when others have gone through things like that. My afflictions are but a small moment compared to eternity. Insignificant. Yet, at this time and place I feel as if I have no way to go on. In more ways than one I am in over my head, and yet I try with all my might to pray and read scriptures and do all I can to make this a small trial. I notice that others look up to me, and I honestly wish they didn't. Of all people to look up to, it shouldn"t be me it should be God. He's the on helping me to be who I am, and the one who's put me through my trials to make me stronger. I just hope that I can rise above these challenges once again.

Teach me the strength that you've learned

To endure all the pain, all the sorrow

You've guided me, instructed me, loved me

But I don't know where I'll be tomorrow

Teach me to love as quickly as you do

You never judge, I wish I did not

If I haven't thanked you enough before

I do now, because I know I ought


Just thought I'd share this simple poem. It's unfinished, as are all of my poems so far