A LESSON ABOUT HEAVEN AND HELL FROM THE TWILIGHT ZONE

WALKING THE GREAT BRIDGE OF BROOKLYN WITH MY FATHER

So, on that day, on that bridge, I saw the beautiful handiwork of man. But of more import was that I got to walk across it with the great handiwork of God; my father. As we walked together, I discovered, that I wasn’t walking “over” the “Great Bridge”, I was walking “with” it. It is my father who instilled in me the “literal and genuinely religious leap of faith” that has embodied his life. For because of him, I have spent my life in pursuit of the things of God. In the end, that is all I will be able to take with me! My faith, my hope, and my dreams are founded in the Plan of Salvation, of which my Father taught me. My Father has since passed!  If you haven’t yet, before it’s too late; find a bridge, and walk it with your Dad. So to you Dad, thank you for your kindness and goodness, but most of all, for your example of faithfulness to the gospel of Jesus Christ, that has blessed the lives of countless individuals! The Brooklyn Bridge will always be ours!

I'VE TAKEN TO DRINKING!

I once met with a wonderful woman of faith who was going through a difficult time inher life. An unfaithful husband, coupled with personal health issues and troubles with her children, left her in a state of extreme depression. Sheshared with me how difficult it was to attend church and associate with membersof our faith. It wasn’t that she didn’t feel cared for or loved by them, it wassimply the depressing nature of her life and having to face the possiblediscussion of her problems with others. Attending church, for her, seemed tofeed her depression instead of curing it! Or it least she perceived it thatway. She then remarked with sadness, “I’m sorry to confess that I’ve taken todrinking from time to time in order to dull my senses.” We talked for a long while and discussed the positive naturethat comes when we obey the commandments and the strength that comes fromregular attendance at church. There is, in reality, wonderful blessing that docome into our lives from these things. The commandments were given to bless us,not damn us. And regular church attendance, while monotonous at times to some,really does uplift and inspire us if we are in the right frame of mind. Andjust being in the Lord’s house often provides us with a certain peace andconnection with Deity. This wonderful women’s story is not unique. Many of us find weare faced with challenges that seem to overwhelm us and lead us into pathwaysthat are dark and lonely. With darkness comes fear of the unknown andtrepidation at every step. It is then not unusual for some to seek help inartificial ways. Ways that can ultimately lead to great travesty, compoundingtheir already fragile state. Recently a friend of ours shockingly related thatthey had lost eight extended family members to illegal drug overdoses. Be itlegal or illegal, there is no question that our nation is plagued and beingtorn apart by the use of drugs that alter the mind and dampen the ability of usto feel the presence of a loving Heavenly Father in our lives. A number of years ago Tim McGraw penned and sang a song called,“Drugs or Jesus.” Part of the lyrics read: “My whole life, I’ve tried to run, I’ve tried to hide. From thestained-glass windows in my mind. Refusing to let God’s light shine down onme…(we) sit and watch a perfect world go by. We’re all looking for love andmeaning in our lives…we follow the roads that lead us to drugs or Jesus.” Meaning can be found in the life when we understand the purposeof life as revealed through the Lord’s plan of salvation. Fortunately my friend found her way back. A few years later wetalked again. Her face had regained its light and her spirit was buoyant. Shehad chosen the way back to Jesus. Faith in Him had provided her with thestrength to overcome and return to the fold. May we take comfort in the words of the Redeemer when hedeclared: “ Iam come a light into the world, that whosoever believeth on me should not abidein darkness.” (John

WHEN DID 'GUTTER' LANGUAGE BECOME FASHIONABLE?

I don’t know precisely when it became fashionable for “gutter language” to become apart of everyday life. I am taken aback by the coarseness of language that hasbecome acceptable across all walks of life. And the use of foul language, atleast in media, knows no bounds. Young, old, male, or female, using suchlimited language is just so ‘in vogue’. You can’t watch anything on TV or go tothe movies without someone dropping the ‘f’ bomb as a part of their regularvocabulary. Gone are the days when the use of obscene or taboo language, or swearing as ismore commonly known, is seen as a sign that the speaker lacks vocabulary,cannot express themselves less offensively, or even lacks intelligence. Theinteresting part is that such foul words don’t even make sense in the contextof the sentence that people use. And does everything bad that happens in thelives of people need to be greeted with “F” me! Is this type of languagesupposed to show how tough someone is? Language has always been a problem inathletic events, but when did it become acceptable for coaches to use the foulestlanguage in post-interviews about the game they just played? I’m ashamed! Evenour politicians, who kept their mouths restrained in public in the past, nowhave no problem using profanity in their public remarks. Including ourPresidents! Our media personalities, male and female, apparently feel it isimportant to use obscene language, to empathize a point. Just the other day Iwas listening to a female newwoman, who now has her own podcast, dropping the “f”bomb over and over throughout her commentary. My respect for her went down…alot! Iremember the day when the only ones using gutter’ language were quote ‘sailors!’In talking to my wife, we both couldn’t recall ever hearing our fathers usesuch language and for a woman, let alone a mother swear opening was, well,unheard of! What does it teach the rising generation when the media showschildren swearing at their parents and parents swearing at their children? Whatexample is set if every time an adult has a problem, they resort to droppingprofanity? And what happens when the name of the Lord is a ‘hiss and a byword?” I know they are just words. But words are symbols of what is inour hearts. And the heart of mankind seems to be darkening by the day. James ofthe New Testament wrote: “But above all, my brothers, do not swear, either by heaven orby earth or by any other oath, but let your “yes” be yes and your “no” be no,so that you may not fall under condemnation.” But I think it was Luke who nailed it by stating: “The good person out of the good treasure of his heart producesgood, and the evil person out of his evil treasure produces evil, for out ofthe abundance of the heart his mouth speaks.”

TO ARGENTINA WITH LOVE!

Be it the Olympics, the World Cup, or any other sporting event, or world political event,outside of cheering on the United States, I always root for Argentina and probably will till the day I die!  Why? It was over fifty years ago that my father came down the stairsat our house and handed me a letter.  This was no ordinary letter; it was“the letter.” It was postmarked, “Salt Lake City,” and it was from my church’sheadquarters informing me of where they wanted me to serve for the next twoyears.  I couldn’t wait, so I immediately opened it, and I found out thatI was being called to ‘serve’ the people of Argentina—specifically, BuenosAires and the south. And so it was that I spent the next two years in Argentina,where I first learned to place others in front of myself. It was there inArgentina that I learned the true meaning of service. It was there that I sawpoverty and lived among the poor, whom I learned to not only care for but alsolove.  It was there that I found out what was required of someone whowanted to become a faithful servant of our Savior, Jesus Christ. It was there,among those wonderful people, that I became acquainted in a most personal waywith Deity. It was also there that the people treated me with such love that Ihave never forgotten the feeling.  I have a fixed image of looking out thewindow of my plane with tears streaming down my cheeks when it lifted off afterthose two years, as I watched my beloved Argentina slowly fade from sight. Marvin J. Ashton once said: “A sure way to set our guidelines for that which we choose toserve and learn to love is to follow the admonition of Joshua: “As for me andmy house, we will serve the Lord.” (Josh. 24:15.)… We serve that which we love.If we sacrifice and give our love for that which our Father in Heaven asks ofus, it will help us set our footsteps upon the path of eternal life. Again, Iconclude, what we serve we learn to love, and what we love takes our time, andwhat takes our time is what we love.” (“We Serve That Which We Love”, April GC,1981) And so it is that every time I see anything in the news onArgentina, I stop and read it.  I somehow felt some pride in the fact thatthe former Pope hailed from there. I cheer for them every World Cup. I cheerbecause that country and its people remind me of good things.  They remindme of a day when I was at my best in serving others. I cheer for Argentinabecause I love their people and because they loved me. I love Argentina becausethe saying really is true; we really do learn to love those we serve. And so it is,  be it the people of Argentina, a stranger,or the neighbor next door, the embers of God, which we all carry, are flamedwhen we serve others. It is selfless service that ignites the flame of eternalGodly love, which in turn warms the soul and soothes the human heart. So when Ieven hear the name Argentina, it brings to mind love and touches my soul withgreat memories, and reminds me that when you serve, you are blessed way beyondwhat you give.

WHOSE YOUR G-DADDY?

I only have one memory of him. I don’t know why it has stayed with me. As I recollect, he and I were alone watching the Lawrence Welk Show on TV one night back in thesixties. I’m sure there were other family members in the room but I only remember him because of what happened. A musical number came on during the show. People were dancing as a violin played. I guess you might say that theviolin player was a ‘fiddler’ of sorts. As the musical number progressed, I looked over at him. His eyes became moist and eventually a small tear came out and flowed down his cheek. As a small boy, I remember thinking; “Why is Grandpacrying?” I didn’t know him well because he lived all the way across the United States. I don’t know how often he came but the only memory of him was this moment in time. I can still see him sitting there. Old, somewhat feeble-looking with gnarled hands. I never really knew him. The above photo of him, with me on his left and my brother on his right, is the only one of us together that I have. Some time later, it could have been months or years, I told myMom about how Grandpa had cried while watching The Lawrence Welk Show on TV.She explained, “My Dad used to play the violin for all the school and churchdances when he was younger. He loved to play the fiddle. I’m sure he was sadthinking back and knowing he can no longer fiddle.” If I had known that, I mighthave had a wonderful conversation with my Grandpa about his ‘fiddling’ days andabout his life. I missed out! Do you have a Grandpa that’s living? If it’s possible, spend thetime to get to know him. He was once young like you. He had hopes and dreamsand asperations. He had talents and has wonderful stories to tell if you takethe time to get to know him. Pickup the phone and dial him. Have lunch, go tohis house; feel of his spirit. Because soon he will be gone; maybe as soon astomorrow! Then it will be too late and you will have missed the opportunity toget to know him, and you will be left with the puzzling question in the back ofyour mind of, “Whose you’re G-Daddy!”