I almost didn't write anything today, keeping up with my new every-other-week pattern I've got going on lately, until I read more of that biography I think I mentioned in the last post.
At first I only picked it up because I felt like I should do some family history. And because I'm fortunate to have been born in the family that I was, a whole ton of the temple work is already done. So I decided to read the biography because if all my ancestors are going to be there in the next life, I want to know enough to be able to actually recognize their name or hold a conversation with them. Especially with the stalwart people of grit and hard work that I somehow come from.
It took a little while to get into it, but reading this thing has been awesome! I've grown to really appreciate and admire the man its written about as well as other names that have come up that surprise me such as my friends' ancestor, the founder of my beloved home town, and even a name I've heard on a popular pioneer movie.
The other thing I love about it is that its really hard to worry about such trivial things like my apperance or how I'll ever survive giving my talk in church when I read about this man cleverly preaching to a hostile crowd or working his tail end off trying to make ends meet. And none of the group dates I've gone on can ever compare to the one his son went on. Him and his friends risked going to a festivity where there was a family that didn't like his friends. There was a disagreement at the gate, people got angry, and a lot of the boys got shot and wounded. The girls simply did their best with icepacks until further help came. Kudos to them. I hope I only ever have to end my dates with a hug at the door.
And then there's stories on the other side of my family my mother has told me that blow my socks off. There's haunting stories of World War II, courageous stories of coming to America with no other knowledge of English but the lyrics of some Elvis songs, and a missionary and his companion who were held captive in the jungle, their captors hoping for some sort of ransom.
Like I said, I'm fortunate to have the family that I do and I like bragging about them because then it makes me want to live up to their daunting examples. My hope is that when I pass into the next life I'll be able to see them and not be ashamed. To shake their hands and ask the man I'm reading about just what it was like to know three different prophets personally.
Anyways, I have a little shadow asking me to play the computer so I'd best go. :) I just wanted to share that. I've truely began to gain a testimony of what they call the spirit of Elijah and I just felt to post this in hopes that maybe you will too.
At first I only picked it up because I felt like I should do some family history. And because I'm fortunate to have been born in the family that I was, a whole ton of the temple work is already done. So I decided to read the biography because if all my ancestors are going to be there in the next life, I want to know enough to be able to actually recognize their name or hold a conversation with them. Especially with the stalwart people of grit and hard work that I somehow come from.
It took a little while to get into it, but reading this thing has been awesome! I've grown to really appreciate and admire the man its written about as well as other names that have come up that surprise me such as my friends' ancestor, the founder of my beloved home town, and even a name I've heard on a popular pioneer movie.
The other thing I love about it is that its really hard to worry about such trivial things like my apperance or how I'll ever survive giving my talk in church when I read about this man cleverly preaching to a hostile crowd or working his tail end off trying to make ends meet. And none of the group dates I've gone on can ever compare to the one his son went on. Him and his friends risked going to a festivity where there was a family that didn't like his friends. There was a disagreement at the gate, people got angry, and a lot of the boys got shot and wounded. The girls simply did their best with icepacks until further help came. Kudos to them. I hope I only ever have to end my dates with a hug at the door.
And then there's stories on the other side of my family my mother has told me that blow my socks off. There's haunting stories of World War II, courageous stories of coming to America with no other knowledge of English but the lyrics of some Elvis songs, and a missionary and his companion who were held captive in the jungle, their captors hoping for some sort of ransom.
Like I said, I'm fortunate to have the family that I do and I like bragging about them because then it makes me want to live up to their daunting examples. My hope is that when I pass into the next life I'll be able to see them and not be ashamed. To shake their hands and ask the man I'm reading about just what it was like to know three different prophets personally.
Anyways, I have a little shadow asking me to play the computer so I'd best go. :) I just wanted to share that. I've truely began to gain a testimony of what they call the spirit of Elijah and I just felt to post this in hopes that maybe you will too.
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