Monday, October 14, 2013

A poem

A Chandelier hangs overhead
in UB's old enkhtaivan Church
Its twenty light bulbs light the room
suspended from their lofty perch.
Some weeks ago, I wryly thought,
the lighting piece did exposite
Mongolian Church Membership:
of twenty, only 4 were lit.
And in defeat I bowed my head,
and worried for the woes at hand.
When will this country rise above?
When will a temple grace this land?
Well, just today, while at the church,
I glanced again and saw the light.
To my surprise, all twenty bulbs,
were lit and each was burning bright!
Recalling what I 'ere had thought
Repented me of my regret.
For while I know not when nor how,
This land will build a temple yet.

For as late Elder Maxwell prayed,
this land must be a shining light
to nations near and far, he said,
Exemplary of truth and right.
And though at times things may look dim,
The day will come when we shall see
That strength foretold, in all its might,
in this land for eternity.
It may seem strange to put such hope
in Prophecy by Maintenance,
Yet I admit this token pinned
a smile upon my countenance.
What's more I trust Prophetic Prayer,
that promised us the blessings sweet,
that I shall see when I return
and with the faithful converts meet
Upon a freshly templed mount,
some stately hill not far from here.
Amid Hosannas I'll recount
of my oracle chandelier.

--Joshua Sims, October 2013

When people join the Church, it can be hard for them to maintain the same conviction they had at first.  They face persecution for their choice, life gets in the way, and they find keeping the commandments hard.  Like the friend that I wrote about last week, these converts may know the Gospel of Jesus Christ is true but they may not feel it strongly enough yet to attend weekly meetings.  And when they don't do that or the other things important to daily Gospel living, their light begins to fade and they forget, as it were, why it was so important to devote themselves to following Christ.  Mongolia is no different than any other part of the world, and so we do struggle here with less active Saints.  My poem helps me remember to have faith that dimmed lights will return and new light will be added so that the Mongolian Saints can shine brightly on a hill in the future.  

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