I recommend this talk by Elder Maxwell about Joseph Smith.  His literary bent shows him the rhythm and contrast, the tragic poetry, that lies in Joseph Smith’s life and in ours.

Great courage, great strength, great passion — and going peaceably to his death.

After a glorious visitation, a laborious implementation.

Remarkable manifestations, along with constant vexations.

Befriended by heavenly notables,  betrayed by some of his earthly friends.

Receiving keys and gifts, but  the painful loss of six of his eleven children.

That is Joseph Smith’s poetry.

When you come to passages in your own life that are troubling, keep reading.  Dauntless the slug horn to your lips set and blow.

P.S.  I loved this passage.

President Young said that those who knew Joseph could tell when “the Spirit of revelation was upon him, … for at such times there was a peculiar clearness and transparency in his face.” (In Journal of Discourses, 9:89.)

Other posts from the Priesthood session of the April 1992 General Conference

Marilyn Nielson The very best available

Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from nature.

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No evidence of alien species because most advanced species correctly intuit that information is pollution, and cease communicating in patterns.  Their language approaches static, their architecture approaches nature.

-twitter user @ctrlcreep

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Any sufficiently advanced activity is indistinguishable from ritual. (more…)

Today is Betsey’s dying day.

Atlas started small.  He grew.

His first burdens seemed heavy enough.   He bore the burden of working out his own salvation in fear and trembling before God.  He bore the burden of growing up.  He discovered the grace of Christ.  He bore up.

He took on more burdens before he was ready.  Mission, job, marriage.  He staggered a bit.  Infused with grace, he bore up.  He took on more.  His shoulders got broader and broader.  Family children hometeaching community neighbors friends truth beauty land heritage generations.  His shoulders are broader and broader.  His back is bigger and bigger.

Now it is only the weight of the whole world on his shoulders that keeps him down.

(more…)

My children, my children,

my jewels of my heart.

Time, death, and distance

will ne’er long us part.

Romans held actors and actresses in great contempt. They classified them as a form of prostitute. The plays they acted in were often extremely lewd and they often just were prostitutes. The Roman attitude makes sense and one wishes we could adopt it. It is hard to think of a single redeeming feature of our celebrity culture. (more…)

My wife says that I have a subconscious rule that I must move things from one place to another at least a hundred times before I can bring myself to give them away. Suffice it to say, if you need help in this, there are better experts than I to teach you.

-thus Brother Bradford, from his talk Unclutter Your Life.

It is not really a talk about clutter. It is a talk about systems, and means and ends, and goals. (more…)

The one Lord,
from the two branches hung,
three days in the grave,
the four quarters saved

I was thinking of John Mansfield, and Brandon Flowers, and JM’s wife this morning.

There are two beauties, one being more beautiful than the other; there shall be another more beautiful than they; I am the Lord thy God, I am more beautiful than they all.

In mortal terms, a father is someone who went from thinking it would be fun to gleefully and dangerously blow up stuff with his friends to thinking it would be fun to gleefully and a little less dangerously blow up stuff with his kids and his friends.

Mortal fathers, by natural design, have a lot of fun with their kids in the rough and tumble.

God is the Father.

(more…)

For some reason, the Orthodox converts in America I run across make me think that orthodoxy is Jehovah’s Witnesses for smart people.

Same mental traits.

If you pursued perfect glory when you found it you would be exalted.
If you pursued perfect integrity when you found it you would be exalted.

And so on with the perfection of peace or love or wisdom or every other good.

True fulness cannot be contained.