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.

Wee Friends

We live close to Kensington Metro Park in Michigan.  There is a trail by the nature center where over the years the birds have grown accustomed to being hand fed.  It is magical to say the least.  I think of St. Francis of Assisi and the beautiful photos of him surrounded by birds.  He is known as the patron saint of animals, birds, and the environment and is quoted as having said,  “If you have men who will exclude any of God's creatures from the shelter of compassion and pity, you will have men who will deal likewise with their fellow men.”  There is a story told of him that goes like this: "It is said that, one day, while Francis was traveling with some companions, they happened upon a place in the road where birds filled the trees on either side. Francis told his companions to "wait for me while I go to preach to my sisters the birds." The birds surrounded him, intrigued by the power of his voice, and not one of them flew away. He is often portrayed with a bird, typically in his hand."

And so it is at Kensington.  The birds line the trees on either side and are delighted to see you hold out your hand to feed them.

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