The Last Day

I think it might be good to add an extra caveat at the beginning of this missive. Some of the concepts I am about to discuss are my own thoughts. I have identified places where doctrine ends and my thoughts begin.

As I was reading the scriptures with my wife a few mornings ago, I was struck by the phrase “the last day.” (Not to be confused with “the last days.”) According to my trusty search program, this phrase appears at least 58 times in the scriptures. Usually, it is used in conjunction with a discussion of the final judgment. A question popped into my mind – more on that later.

believing Is Seeing

As an amateur artist, I have learned (over a considerable period of time) that I must be able to look at a subject and see what’s really there before I can represent it artistically. Before I can vary the composition, before I can decide what’s important to the subject, I must see what’s really there, not what I think is there. Only then can I make artistic decisions about the composition.

Righteousness and Happiness

When we seek happiness, when we want peace and contentment, when we want control of our lives, when we want a direction, a reason for our lives, where do we turn?

My Wife's Hands

Recently my wife was very ill, so ill that she had to be hospitalized. She is recovering nicely now, but it was a scary time for both of us. As I sat with her and when I came home alone to sleep while she was hospitalized, I had a lot of time to think about what my life would be like without her. She performs so many services for me; she has great concern for my well-being and comfort, and is just always there when I need her.

Enjoy the Ride

I know a young couple, April and August, (not their real names, but chosen for natural anonymity and their alliterative value) who are immensely happy together. April is an attractive woman, slim, with a simple, modest style that somehow conveys her love of life, her husband, her children, and the gospel. August is almost a quadriplegic. He was paralyzed from the waist down in his late teens in a tragic accident. Until that time, he had been a tall, athletic, handsome, bright young man.

Speed Bumps, Potholes, and Sinkholes

When I was just learning to drive, my Dad was my teacher. He taught me to drive a stick shift, gave me lots of hints about driving (that I passed on to my children), and by the time I got to take driver’s education in school, I could drive fairly competently – at least I thought so, but I’m not so sure that Dad and Mom did. I still remember Dad moving his hands back and forth to indicate the relationship between the gas and the clutch. I used the same technique when I taught my kids how to drive.

Moving Along

Well folks, I guess we are really moving. We love our house, but it has a lot of stairs and none of us like stairs very much any more. We’re looking for one-level living. No stairs, everything we need on one level. Ease of movement throughout our living space.