Many LDS Women Share the Gift of Writing Psalms

 God inspired me to write Psalms.

He asked my friend Sharon to write, too.

We come from a long line of LDS women

who write about their relationship with

Jesus Christ and His gospel.

They share with their friends but also

with the world.

Here is a quote written on a wooden plaque

found on a tree at Adam-Ondi-Ahman:

Eliza R. Snow

1804 - 1887

I will go forward...

I will smile at the rage of the tempest,

And ride fearlessly and triumphantly

Across the boisterous ocean of circumstance...

And 'the Testimony of Jesus' will light the lamp

that will guide my vision through the portals

Of immortality, and communicate my

Understanding the glories of the Celestial Kingdom.

 

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Bev’s Psalm 8 : A Bee’s Eye View

 

An eternal perspective hovers

outside at the edge of my thoughts.

Clear at times, but cloudy most days.

What do they say?

Partly cloudy with a twenty percent chance of rain?

Rise above the clouds and it’s sunshine.

Into each life a little rain must fall.

Clouds are necessary for rain.

Why rain, God?

“Well, my little Bee,

there would be no flowers for you to pollinate.”

God’s eternal overview of our lives

Is how miracles occur.

Going from flower to flower, gathering nectar,

And passing little particles of pollen

To germinate long after you are gone

And blossoms become mature fruit

And the bee goes happily along in the sunshine,

Blissfully unaware of the miracle

She’s created, savoring the joy of delicious nectar

And her end result, sweet drops of honey.

BEE is not always aware how her actions

Affect others.

Every once in a while, retrospectively,

A blind bump throws another off course.

Then, surprise! They share a piece of gratitude

Showing appreciation for the BEE.

That’s the sweet drop of honey that

Like Dew, drops from heaven

Into an otherwise lonely life.

Bev's Psalm 7: Alone

 Long Ago Memories stir me to Action!

Sitting alone with tears nearby. 

Living in a log cabin in a wilderness

Grandparents raised crops and children.

Seeing me in a Picture Rocks rental, where

My only wilderness was Cyberspace, it's

Not too different now twelve years later,

Still alone in widowhood,

Pondering about bearing babe's as purpose

Like my ancestor's did, but I did not.

Knowing my role as a Savior on Mt. Zion

Gathering families together for eternity,

Peace descends and quiets the loneliness

I'm in the right place, at the right time

With the right skills and digital knowledge

My destiny to fulfill.

Bev’s Psalm 6

 

“Eclipse”

God’s amazing creations displayed in heaven above

But few there’ll be that see His marvels that we love.

The wise Architect of the universe placed earth perfectly.

The Sun warms our days and the nights are cool.

To rule the night He created the moon

Distance, orbit, size designed exact.

The orb’s obeyed. God declared “it was good.”

Tonight saw harmony as the shadow of the moon

Passed over earth for men to see a ring of fire

But where, you ask is best to view?

Antarctica!

So, few will see God’s majesty,

This annular solar eclipse.

Men now are gathering in, the wise and kind.

The naturally sensitive and spiritually attuned.

You are those prepared and preserved for this moment in time.

Let not the evil shadow fall upon your earthly life,

Ye children of light, prepare the world and all nations

to welcome Him at His second coming

Let not that shadow eclipse His Son.

 

 

  

Bev Psalm 5: Word's Matter

 Insights About Words from God, Important Words, Revelatory Words:

God revealed to Joseph Smith, clarifications in four Psalms.

Numbers eleven, fourteen, twenty-four, and one hundred-nine.

If this was important to God, they are scripture.

They must be studied, understood and quoted correctly.

There is wisdom in every stanza of the book of Psalms.

Woe, that I ever thought these were things of naught.

God's revelatory word to me on December 26th was

To write Psalms: Bev's Psalms.

He is asking me to use, improve my talents, 

My relationships, even my experiences from my life,

To make a contribution to His Kingdom upon the earth.

Everyone is important; anyone who believes in Him

And wants to help, can participate in their own way.

Here, in the world-wide reach of digital influence,

God has placed me in a specific orbit to reach out, touch.

My circle of friends and family can broaden into "One Work".

Writing lyric poems for the past fifteen years began by 

Using Mind Maps at my husband's suggestion.

It jump-started my learning that I could actually write.

My Princeton taught, English expert, husband intimidated me.

An art major creates with pictures.

But one day he said, "You write better Lyric Poems,

Than I write classic poetry."

Twelve years have passed since my grammar correcting,

Proofreading covenant partner passed through the veil.

Now is the time from me to write again, as God has asked.

This time I write as a disciple of Christ, to help prepare

A people for His Second Coming.  

My Husband, Bob's, Poem to Me in 1978

In Defense of Poetry

My love, I know it must seem strange to hear

The cadence of Elizabethan times

Spring from the pen of one who all his life

Has only known the dry and juiceless, jangling

Rhythms of the speech of modern men.

Yet now my words do seem to tumble forth

And shape themselves, sans effort on my part,

Into the meter of th’ immortal Bard,

And seek, thereby, to tempt you into being

My Juliet, despite the barriers

Of space and time, that, cruelly, do keep

Us from that loving union, which beyond

All doubt, is our eternal destiny.

Such thoughts as these, born fresh and tender from

The heart, as from a womb, would wrap themselves

Inside the warmth of verse, and shun the cooler

Garb of dull and lifeless prose. So true

Is this that I am sure Love’s Architect

Could never build more than a humble hut

Without the varied instruments of verse.

It is not mere chance that all the sweetest

Tales of love that have been handed down to us,

That give us glimpses of the ecstasy

That only lovers know, are told in words

That sing and dance, that burn inside our minds

With fire and smoke and heat, that only the wet

And wintry depths of silent death can quench.

The poets do pluck the harpstrings of our hearts with

Wondrous skill, and all of us, drab creatures

That we are, starved for the manna that only

Beauty from the heavens can distill,

Do yield the secret music of our beings

To their artistry.

So, is it now so very strange that I,

In seeking to give voice to thoughts and feelings

That fall not lightly from the lips, should turn

To verse and try to strum the lyre of poetry?

“My love for you is like a rosebud that,

Responding to the juice of life that flows

Into it from the roots below, sunk deep

Into the dark and fertile soil of care,

Has just begun to swell with joy and open

Up it’s soft and tender petals to

The glowing light of heaven; fearful of

The heat and brightness of the day, that have

The pow’r to scorch and shrivel, unless there is

A ceaseless stream of nourishment, but yet

Determined still to reach it’s full fruition

In the splendor of a full-grown rose, that’s

Bared at last to wind and sun and rain

Mature and strong, and sharing with the world

A beauty that a fear of life and pain

Could have forever hid.”

----Robert E. Field, 5 Sept 1978