a seminary trick

i still remember this trick from seminary,

although it has been almost eight years.

open the book of mormon.

ask left or right.

ask again.

count the verses,

ask for a number in that range.

give a spiritual thought from that verse.

sometimes you come up with 

some very difficult scriptures.

but tonight, i came up with this

beautiful verse from alma:

my joy is full because

i know that my redeemer lives.

i know that i have someone

who has truly felt every pain and heartache

that may come my way.

a believer's prayer was performed so beautifully

in church yesterday by some good friends

and the entire time, the spirit just kept coming

in waves of confirmation.

the believer's prayer is heard.

and if you cannot have belief,

a desire to believe will be enough for now.

an eternal family

there is something wonderful to know that 

the lord blessed us with the opportunity to have an eternal family. 

this past year was one of the hardest testimony testers for me. 

in may, i had to say goodbye over the phone, 

from 3000 miles away to a beloved grandfather. 

and just this december i never got to meet a wonderful little cousin.

there is something heartbreaking about two funerals in one year. 

one for a man who got to live a full-ish life and a man who never got to live. 

but somehow, there is a peace that lives in my heart. 

a knowledge and conviction that my family can be together forever 

allows me to put one foot in front of the other 

and not be a hot mess of emotions and grief. 

grandpa is waiting for us. 

he's preparing the mansion in heaven that we will all share. 

and little sam is there with grandpa, 

learning as a child should 

from such a wonderful role model. 

and sometimes i get a little jealous of the angels.

but it helps the aching heart to know that they are happy.

my soul was racked with eternal torment;
but i am snatched, and my soul is pained no more.

this was the scripture that we found open in the days

after my grandfather's funeral.

there were probably some of his last words

he read from the scriptures before his death.

and what a powerful statement.

my soul is pained no more.

looking back on that week, and the letter i wrote

home, i realized that i was being prepared well

before i even knew something was astray.

i had been studying in the book of mormon

and reading in the doctrine and covenants

about what happens to man after he leaves this life.

and what a comfort this scripture still is to me:

and the next verse says: 

and then shall it come to pass, that the spirits of those

 who are righteous are received into a state of happiness,

which is called paradise, a state of rest, a state of peace, 

where they shall rest from all their troubles 

and from all care, and sorrow.

the way i talk

the way i talk

it's become a quick favorite for me.

makes it a little bit better

that morgan is from knoxville, tennessee

just like yours truly.

but a lot has changed in the last little while

with the way i talk.

today marks two years since i entered the mtc

and started one of life's big journeys:

a full-time service mission for

the church of jesus christ of latter-day saints.

i now speak with a little utah vocab,

heck, fetch and crap.

a little bit of that tennessee drawl,

y'all, darling, sweetheart.

there are a few more spanish pleasantries mixed in,

gracias, por favor, and hola.

and now the vocab of a returned missionary,

college, work, homework.

the way i talk

is now a little bit more grown-up.

i am trying to grow up.

prepare for the inevitable part of life

that requires you to snip the safety net

made by your parents

and create your own life.

and i owe a lot of that growing up

to the experience i had in nicaragua.

two teenagers, with a very rough idea of the real world,

wandering the streets of a foreign land

preaching a message that they firmly believe.

there is very little training considering 

the objective that is given. 

yet, the way we talk

is not with our mouths.

but with our testimonies, the spirit of god

and a lot of faith.

it's a language that you don't learn

from someone else.

rather, it's an individualized experience.

there may be similarities you share with others

but no feeling, notion, prompting

is the same person to person.

and that's an incredible language to master.

a good missionary sees it occasionally.

a great missionary sees it frequently.

but an extraordinary missionary sees it always.

i am no judge of character for myself,

but i do know that there are many moments

that i can remember that i spoke the words

that the hearer needed.

they were not my words,

but the way i talked

was enough to let me know

that they were the right words

that the man upstairs understood

and knew that person needed

at that precise moment.

it sounds a little bit like my daddy

it don't cuss around my momma

some words you've never heard

'less you come from down yonder

the man upstairs gets it

so i ain't tryna fix it

no i can't hide it

i don't fight, i just roll with it

oh, kinda slow like the Mississippi rolls

it's the only way i know

man it ain't my fault

i just live the way i talk.