I love being a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I joined back in 1964 after a long struggle with faith. I had loved the Savior ever since I could remember, but the church of my youth deserted me as it moved into the intellect movement of the 60's. Without spiritual guidance, I fell away. The Lord distinguished between the words of my mouth and the longing of my heart. He knew that I wanted to believe and so he sent a young woman who told me the story of the Restored Gospel. She bore her testimony of Jesus Christ and promised me that I could know for myself and have my own testimony.

Now forty-six years later I can only thank her from the bottom of my heart for introducing me to the church. Indeed I do have my own testimony. I know that Joseph Smith was a prophet, called to restore Christ's church to the earth. We have a prophet today who leads and guides us. I am so grateful for Latter-day scriptures that bear testimony of Jesus Christ. The Book of Mormon is the Word of God. It stands as another witness of the Savior and it's truths have touched my life in very personal ways.

I hope that my poetry reflects the growth of my testimony and my love for Jesus Christ.

Tsunami

I had been back to the neighborhood of my childhood several times.  I had watched it deteriorate and sadly I visited once to find only a vacant lot where my childhood home had been.  But recently I took Lynn to see the old neighborhood.  I was not prepared for what we found.



The memories of childhood
fill my mind with happy thoughts.
I close my eyes and
see home and school and
friends of long ago.

Yesterday we drove around
that neighborhood.
Neither house nor street remained.
Like a war zone there
was little left.
The few houses we saw
were vacant or boarded up.

Only the phantoms of my memory
remain to remind me of
a wonderful place of long ago.
 



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