Stripling Warriors' Mom: Scenes by the Sea shore, Tales of the Sea. . . .

Thursday, August 28, 2008

Scenes by the Sea shore, Tales of the Sea. . . .

This reminds me of the lake in Guatemala that I saw when Michael and I went there as he completed his missionary duties. The water was so clear, as you can see it is pure looking and crystal blue.

There has been a new temple announced to be built in the city Panajachel, Guatemala. It will be their second temple in Guatemala. The woman, Ruth is our neighbor, who told me is from Guatemala City and said they all know this place, Lake Atitlan is where the waters of Mormon were, and where the Savior came when he visited the Nephites.

I remember the feeling I felt when we went to this beautiful place. I told Ruth it felt like I was in a holy land. She agreed; that is when she said it was where the Savior visited. I didn't know that fact at the time Michael and I were there. We went there three different times in our travels as we drove to various places where Michael served his mission. It was incredible. I would love to go back there once their new temple is built.

I will put that goal on my 'bucket list.'

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Power to Act in God's Name

I believe and know very strongly that, " A man, young or old never stands taller than when he is doing his priesthood duties or responsibilities. Be it station as a Deacon, Teacher, Priest, Elder, High Priest, Home teacher, priesthood holder husband, father, son or grandfather, Bishop, or Prophet of God. He has a mantle about him that emanates and gives him the authority to act in God's name, and uses it in righteousness. It is a blessing to him and his family. To this I know that he raises the bar in doing his duty to God and his fellow man.”

" I stand in awe of the goodness that pervades within that soul who honors and lives up to his priesthood calling with a pure heart. It is evident to me and cannot be hidden. I believe that quality shines in their countenances and His image is radiated in their face's.

Insights by Anna 11.22.09

Touch of The Master's Hand

And the auctioneer thought it
hardly worth his while
To waste his time on the old violin,
but he held it up with a smile.

"What am I bid, good people", he cried,
" It was battered and scarred,
Who starts the bidding for me?"
"One dollar, one dollar, Do I hear two?"
"Two dollars, who makes it three?"
"Three dollars once, three dollars twice, going for three,"

But, No,
From the room far back a gray bearded man
Came forward and picked up the bow,
Then wiping the dust from the old violin
And tightening up the strings,
He played a melody, pure and sweet
As sweet as the angel sings.

The music ceased and the auctioneer
With a voice that was quiet and low,
Said "What now am I bid for this old violin?"
As he held it aloft with its' bow.

"One thousand, one thousand, Do I hear two?"
"Two thousand, Who makes it three?"
"Three thousand once, three thousand twice,
Going and gone", said he.

The audience cheered,
But some of them cried,
"We just don't understand."
"What changed its' worth?"
Swift came the reply.
"The Touch of the Masters Hand."

And many a man with life out of tune
All battered with bourbon and gin
Is auctioned cheap to a thoughtless crowd
Much like that old violin

A mess of pottage, a glass of wine,
A game and he travels on.
He is going once, he is going twice,
He is going and almost gone.

But the Master comes,
And the foolish crowd never can quite understand,
The worth of a soul and the change that is wrought
By the Touch of the Masters' Hand.

Myra Brooks Welch