I'm a little dust mote, dancing in the light
Thankful for a sunbeam streaming just for me.
Smaller than one thousandth, a tiny grain of sand,
Floating high above; it is grand!
In the light of His love, His eye is upon me,
Jesus watches me, and says
My nothingness is His everything.
I find delight in the scriptures
And things of the Lord.
Even though, having experienced
The personal tender mercies of my God,
Sorrow weighs upon my soul, because
I perceive that I am just a little mote of dust.
Who am I to be in God’s eye? His child!
Yes, but I’m circled about by
Temptation, vexation and weakness.
When I wish to obey and write psalms,
I question my worth; in the world
I’m a nobody, old, widowed and female.
God commands His priesthood, prophets
And men to write, receive revelation.
Their circles of influence are far greater than
mine.
Just an old-fashioned blog, have I.
God has been my support and I trust Him.
His love has filled me, often for days;
Why, when He’s heard my prayers
And answered every need that I have,
Should I question my worth and ability
To write psalms as He has commanded?
Long ago, upon the wings of His Spirit
I was found above the earth in spirit.
He showed me my spouse: past, present, and future.
Then I felt the immense love , perfect love,
He had for him. My husband chose his life here.
Years later, a realization flowed into my heart.
Equally yoked, I too was loved perfectly.
So why should I hesitate now in the valley
Of widowed aloneness, question my life?
Awake, Rise up! Pour forth love!
Use the tools of today and let God work
His miracles, bringing people who need
My perspective, find me in cyberspace.
O Lord, I rejoice in Thee, my God and the
Rock of my salvation.
Wilt thou redeem my soul? Banish doubt?
Find me with a contrite heart, I pray.
Lift me up with Thy power, that I may
Continue to walk on Thy covenant path.
Behold, my voice shall ascend up unto Thee
My psalms of praise will continue.
My Rock, my Redeemer! I love Thee! Amen.
May you find what I’ve found
As I’ve walked with Jesus.
An artist’s eye of the Creator
Seeing with eyes to see
His light because He made the sun and
Because He is the Son.
He made thee and me.
We became a living soul
From His touch our bodies live
Each cell alive with light
Our DNA passed down generations
That light from our ancestors and
From God our Spiritual DNA.
His light fills the immensity of space
It is how God communicates and
The planets, mountains and waves obey.
Do we? The greatest gift He gave
Was the ability to choose. Agency!
As we choose the right, seeking to
Obey, we find Righteousness, yes that’s
His name. Walking with the Savior, He
Teaches us to be the ones that
He’ll be with in eternity; and He asks you
To gather others, points of light, to join
The glorious throng, who wait on the Lord
And watch for Him when He comes in again
He asks of you, “…to be a light to the world.”
May you share what I have shared
A message of Hope.
My generation was called the Silent One,
But I broke that title often.
I’ve spoken loud and clear, just see here
My blog, 2011, once talking I’ve a lot to say.
Let not the world title of Generation Z stick to
you.
They say you are a digital whiz and are
Active in social media.
Instead Zoom into God’s title for you,
Messengers of Hope.
Our prophets have said that you are the
Generation born with special gifts and skills.
You can walk the paths of new technology
To find ancestors, one-by-one, then
Accompany them to the House of the Lord
To baptize and confirm.
You can spread good tidings of Hope
In a worried world, full of despair.
Speak loudly with your texting fingers the
Hopefulness that’s found in the restored church.
Focus on Jesus Christ and you’ll find Joy to
Share with many friends on earth.
The Lord says, “…be a messenger before my face,
To prepare the way for Me.
May you learn what I have learned
Trusting in Jesus and walking with Him
Born in this digitally connected world
You were reserved for this very day.
While I’ve had to work hard, run faster and
Fall often just to do that work
That comes so easily to you.
My patriarchal blessing says my work is
Researching ancestors and one by one,
Doing a work for them that they
Cannot do for themselves.
Beyond the veil, I’ve brought thousands
To Him, giving them the chance to choose
To accept Jesus Christ as their Redeemer.
Faith was a gift of God given to me naturally
In my childhood. I loved the stories of Jesus,
But my parents did not attend any church,
Nor believe; So, I went with neighbors or
By bus, if a church sent one to my neighborhood.
Truth is an action word.
I searched for God and His truth.
Twenty-two years later, I found His True Church.
Now, you can receive your patriarchal blessing;
Learn what God would like you to do.
With exceptional technology, you can join the
Battalion to Build and share the gospel on both
sides
Of the veil, trusting in Jesus and become
Elijah’s Warriors. Hear His call. He will never
leave you.
He will give you power to lift you above worldly
worries,
And comfort you with love. His arms will circle
round you
And bless you with His Spirit, changing your heart
forever.
Together, may you learn what I have learned, and as
a
Unified youth on the covenant path, share this gift
of faith
With others and fulfill God’s will for you in this
mortal life.
In 1968, I received my patriarchal blessing.
Quite frankly, it didn’t seem meaningful.
Twenty-three years old, so naïve.
If you are young, take heed
Learn from my mistakes.
That paper copy became lost.
Then came the BIG repentance at age 32.
Ordering a new copy when my life had fallen apart
And in flux. I asked what God wanted from me.
The Brethren, prophets and leaders said,
“Keep a journal,” so, being visually oriented, I
began.
At first it was sketchy, sparse and infrequent.
But I was doing it. Trying several different sizes
and
Pretty professionally produced volumes,
I finally settled on a 3-ring notebook, a binder format
of
Individual lined notepaper, letting me write for my
posterity
Including all sorts of fun paper memorabilia in the
pockets.
Mainly it was notes, thoughts, and insights as I
studied
My scriptures and General Conference talks.
What about my own personal scriptures?
My Patriarchal Blessing!
I retyped and reformatted it making it easier to
read:
One paragraph became one chapter;
One sentence became one verse.
One chapter per page and finally in sheet
protectors,
I placed these at the front of my journal for a
year.
In November, I would prayerfully read and reread it daily.
An amazing thing slowly began to happen: a word or phrase
Would pop out at me. I wrote them down.
Finally a theme or focus became clear. Then I would
move
These pages to the front of the journal, design a
cover
In keeping with the theme. This location at the
front of my journal,
Gently reminded me to read my personal scripture
often.
Over the years, certain verses became apparent
within talks that
I heard, because they’d become familiar to me and
this
Often prompted deeper study of doctrine and gospel
principles.
My life purpose and work crystalized! What a Joy!
The Chiastic center of my blessing (Bev 5:2) tells
me that
In the House of the Lord, I’ll receive covenants,
promises
And blessings, that previously I’d never
contemplated.
The Spirit of Elijah has filled my heart. Diligence
and obedience
To this sacred doctrine resulted in thousands, yes,
thousands,
Of ordinances performed for my ancestors on the
other
Side of the veil. Then I added stories, attached
sources for proof.
It’s true! Joy and peace are found in this vicarious
work.
Now that you’ve read an old-fashioned form of the current
Social media communication platform, you’ll note I’ve
chosen
No ads. I am the curator of the content I wish to
share.
I own this permanent place. It’s my choice of
passions, and
I determine how I present the themes of a week, month or year.
This year my format is Psalms.
Tricky, since I’m better at visuals than writing. But
I’m learning.
Using more modern words and from the viewpoint of a
modern day disciple of Jesus Christ.
He is my Reason! He should be your Reason!
Focus on Christ!
He told your patriarch exactly what you need to know
for your
Successful life in mortality. Find God’s will for
you. Begin today!
Ode to a song sung sad
Written in the 1930 depression years
“Life is Just a Bowl of Cherries”
“Don’t take it serious, it’s too mysterious.
We’re not here to stay; we’re on a short holiday”
I say, Holy days!
Those lyrics even ask:
“Why are we here? Where are we going?”
That bowl of cherries is full of fallen berries.
We live in a fallen world.
But how sweet it is to know, that Christ came
Long ago, and taught His Plan:
The Plan of Happiness.
Come to earth and gain a body
Complete with spirit, making a soul.
That answers the question of: Why?
And thanks to his atoning sacrifice and
The restored truths about that Stem of Jesse
We can know where we are going.
Firmly attached fruit, we labor in his orchard,
A world asking these same questions.
There are answers.
He lives! Our Redeemer Lives!
By faith, repentance, baptism we walk
In obedience the covenant path
To return to live with our Heavenly Father
In His Celestial Kingdom
God’s mysteries are revealed, our purpose here
Made clear. He loves us, His children dear,
and wants us near, to enjoy perpetual Holy Days.
It began with Moses at a battle long ago
when the Lord said the Israelites would win
if he kept his arms held high.
As he tired, Aaron and Hur came to sustain
him, holding up his arms.
What many did not notice was that
Moses held a rod in his hands.
This rod is the symbol for the word of God.
In our day, Presidents Eyring and Christofferson
Sustain our prophet Dallin H. Oaks
with their words and actions, speaking for
Christ, "for by the mouths of my servants,
it is the same."
My artistic spirit wished to enter a churchwide contest
to illustrate D & C 81:5, "lift up the hands which
hang down, and strengthen the feeble knees."
My hands hung down with age and my knees were feeble.
I envisioned little babies arms weak and helpless.
I saw children with deformed arms, feeling hopeless.
I beheld the family whose teenager, killed by accident,
their hands hidden by broken spirits,
arms clasped around each other,
fallen on bended knees, tears falling on a grave.
Finally were the widows, tears past, years gone,
loneliness settled in and solitude descending
upon their world of reduced circumstances.
The Saviour walked the same earthly paths,
one by one He ministered, clasping firmly
by His hand, pulling them upright from feeble knees;
encircling the one in His arms,
warmly at His breast, assured them of His love.
The Savior was there in His solitude, bearing the pain
and anguish, grief and sin for all of those
whose hands and arms hung down.
An angel ministered to Him in that garden,
sustaining Him until it was done,
when His arms raised up, were nailed upon the cross.
Earthly angels follow His example,
Ministering today, one by one, by phone call,
or visit, bringing the sacrament to the invalid,
texting questions, "How are you doing today?"
Letting the one know they are not alone,
they are loved and cherished children of
a Heavenly Father who loves them and
knows their every need, desiring to bless them.
Solace is found in the words of the prophets, old and new,
and in the loving ministering angels from heaven and earth,
Lifting the arms that hung down
with sacred hands that lift up.
Lorenzo Snow’s words, “We are engaged in the work of God.
The prospects before us are glorious, but, let us be impressed
in every work of our hands, that we are the servants of God
and doing His will. Let not our integrity be impaired,
but our faith be continually increased as we proceed through life.”
Lift my Spirit, continuing, he and I, too, “...would (will) be satisfied
to act where Providence has placed me, and ask God, the Lord,
what I can do to aid in building up the kingdom of God in that place.”
Uplifted, encouraged and inspired by Snow's urging,
I will continue to Pour Forth Love,
As I explore my human experience with God,
Writing Psalms that praise,
Psalms of Sorrow, Grief, Sadness and Lament,
Psalms of Gratitude, and Friendship, and
my personal Devotion to God and His Son.
I write Psalms of Wisdom to share.
Because I feel that pure love of Christ,
in the core of my heart,
and I shout Hallelujah,
My Psalms will Pour Forth Love.
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Thou hast guided me in Thy mercy and strength
To the Celestial Kingdom where thou dwellest.
Thou hast stretched forth thy right hand,
Clasped me, embraced me with love,
Offered me health in my core,
Strengthened my bones and joints
that age has weakened.
Thou hast parted the fogs in my mind
And led me along dry land
A pillar of light behind me
Protection from the adversary, wishing to destroy.
Thy breath didst blow with Thy wind.
Thou art glorious in holiness.
I upholdest thee in awe and reverence.
Thou performest great wonders in my life
And I know thine eye is upon me,
Thy daughter, a dust mote, in Thy universe.
Thou hast loved me from the beginning
And leadest me along my days.
Thou hast purchased me
with the blood of Thy Son.
Thou hast made for me a sanctuary
in Thy mountain.
I will there go up to worship Thee
and see Thy hand in mine every need.
I shall stand still and see thy salvation.
Three parachutes open, slow down descent,
April tenth 2026, into San Diego’s sea,
At 5 PM and 7 minutes, ending a 256,756 mile
journey past the moon;
man going further into space than ever before.
Now deep dive into my memory to
One July day of 1969, in a hotel lobby,
Just near the main plaza, Mexico City.
I watched the grainy black and white
image of man’s first small step off the ladder,
and one giant leap for mankind.
Space has always fascinated me.
Planets, Stars, Comets, and the Milky Way.
God created them for signs and seasons.
In 1975 I was in Downey, California
Where the Apollo Command Module was built.
Art and Technology collaborated there.
Science and creation to the glory of our
Great Creator and I initiated it.
Going further back in my memory to childhood,
Another splash down: It’s getting dark,
I’m having such fun playing, then I hear Mom call,
“Come in. It’s time for bed.” “No!!!”
Kicking and screaming then undressed for my bath.
Splash down: warmth surrounded me.
I didn’t want to get out!
That’s what life is all about.
We come into a cold world, kicking and screaming,
But, at the end, we don’t want to get out.
And like Artemis II, it’s a perfectly planned
mission,
We have untold questions that only God can answer.
He’ll tell us His secrets and reveal the mysteries
Of His Godliness, and eternity.
He wants to share with us, we are His children,
Bathed and clean, every wit,
A giant leap for mankind; yes, everyone who desires
To ascend to the highest degree of His
Celestial Kingdom, there to inherit worlds without
end,
Spirit children to create, and heirs to family
forever,
His perfectly executed Plan for Happiness!
Photo Credit: NASA/Bill Ingalls
I love trees, especially the ones I plant
in the wilderness of cyberspace on FamilySearch,
there to be harvested by descendants who will
gather the fruit of my labors,
Fruit of Jacob’s olive tree, the anointing oils that
fill our lamps, bless our children and our lives.
The harvest of souls is the great work
of the Master Gardener.
He has planted us on this earth to see
Whether we choose Him and eternity,
will remain unshaken in our faith,
firmly attached as we grow or
ripen in iniquity and fall far below.
The stem of Jesse is Jesus the Christ.
Just as the ethylene weakens the connection
between a ripe cherry and it’s stem,
disobedience, doubt and fear weakens
our connection to Jesus allowing us to be
easily shaken and separated from Him.
Therefore, take heed, pray always lest you
fall into temptation.
Regular prompt, daily repentance liberates
and ennobles us.
Seek revelation and recognize God’s hand
in your life; give thanks, expressing your gratitude
and the witness of the Spirit will bring
hope and joy, as well as strength to overcome
with confidence in Jesus Christ and Heavenly Father.
Yes, we avoid becoming ripe for destruction,
truly unshakable, and reconciled to God through
Christ’s infinite atonement in that garden long ago.
Our unshakable faith like the ripe cherry, held firmly
To the Tree of Righteousness.
The Redeemer of the world,
Whose course is one eternal round,
Created worlds without end.
Our universe is filled with galaxies
In that immense space. Look up!
He is the light that shineth in darkness,
And the darkness comprehendeth not.
Believe in the name of the Lord Jesus
Who came to live upon the earth,
Even He who was crucified
For the sins of the world.
Hearken unto Him, who is to come again.
Whose voice has all power and is
From everlasting
to everlasting.
Call your solemn assembly, that your
Yearnings might come up unto
The ears of the Lord, the creator of the
First day: the beginning and the end.
He who says, “My words shall not pass away,
But shall all be fulfilled, whether by my own
Voice or by the voice of my servants, it is the same”
My prophets, seers and revelators speak
On that sacred weekend of General Conference
For all people, families and friends to hear Him
Worldwide, to be uplifted up and participate in
Sitting at the feet of their Savior. They testify
and
Share His words, become one with Him,
His purposes to do, and acclaim:
He lives! He is Risen! Our ever-living Head.
Once whole, that slice of bread
Is then broken and torn for us.
Each piece is unique like you or me.
My husband loved garlic!
“We must never be without it!”
So, I bought it, usually fresh and whole.
Now I buy whole garlic sourdough
Filled with bits of memory,
Unique to me and Bob.
Daily as I focus on Christ,
It’s a feast without the fishes.
Weekly, I take a small piece of bread
And drink a tiny cup of water.
I remember Him, He speaks to me.
Years ago, hands laid upon my head,
A blessing was pronounced,
It’s guided me for years,
Bringing focus to my life.
It’s God’s voice to me,
Uniquely my own scripture.
I never want to be without it.
Now, bits come to mind
As I daily read and study.
It’s the Lord’s Way.
This piece of wisdom I now share,
Your Patriarchal Blessing is uniquely yours.
Read it often, study it line by line,
Focus on the Savior who gave it,
Through the blessed hands of your patriarch,
And your life will not be torn as was
His body and the bread.
When is water a gulf of misery and woe?
The proud pointing fingers, wicked and mocking
Those are the waters filthy and disgusting.
Sweet is the living stream that washes clean,
Attends those who are looking to Christ,
Living water in memory of Gethsemane
Washes us from every darkened stain;
our hands and hearts are clean again
And peace will long remain.
Everywhere I’ve lived there were palm trees;
California, Arizona, Mexico and Kwajalein.
My symbolic BEE is Deborah who sat under a palm
tree.
In Jerusalem, long ago, the first day of Passover,
Christ rode a virgin colt through the gates of the
city.
Do you ever wish, as I, to have been there at the
beginning?
To shout, “Hosanna: blessed is the King of Israel
that
cometh in the name of the Lord” and wave palm
branches.
He came humbly, that time, Isaiah’s prophecy to
fulfill.
Palms have become a metaphor in my life.
My birth on a Palm Sunday began this disciple’s life
journey.
This Psalm is written to symbolize a unique historic
event.
From sundown on the first, to sundown on the second,
this year
Passover begins, marking Christ’s triumphal entry.
At noon during that first day was when I was born,
my entry into this mortal world; right in the
middle.
Jesus Christ is my middle, my center, my focus.
That day He was celebrated, began a fateful road to
the cross.
The sacramental bread and wine were initiated,
in an upper room, in remembrance of His body and
blood.
The garden of olives where He was pressed for our
sins,
our pains and afflictions, our grief, sorrow and
temptations
showed His willingness to obey His Father’s will.
Gethsemane’s sacrifice showed His love for us, true charity.
“Do even as I,” He said. We too must emulate this
love.
To serve with understanding that we are all God’s
children.
He want’s all of them to return and Come Unto Him.
We minister with love, hope and joy, and gratitude
for life.
Because His palms, most sacred, were pierced for us,
they are the tokens of covenants and promises.
My palms are raised to accept, and live a life of
sharing
talents, gifts, and insight, all in obedience to God’s
will.
The next day of His journey, He is Risen! A body to
regain.
He’s led the way for all humanity to rise again,
body with spirit.
Now we shout for joy, echoing the first Hosanna,
because if we live righteously, and endure to the
end,
we can live with The Father and Jesus Christ in
heaven,
embraced in His healing hands.
So wave those palms and
Raise your palms in joyous celebration.
