Book of Mormon Authors Revised

I’ve been studying the Book of Mormon since I learned to read. Despite this, I think I’ve been missing some things from it. Sometimes I forget to think of the individual writers of the Book of Mormon as distinct people. Their messages are so unified—physically and spiritually—and sometimes seem to be separated by only a chapter heading or name of a new book. So I decided to pay close attention this time through to the differences between these men: the words and phrases they use, their moods, and how their individual lives may have influenced those differences. 

I was especially curious about the first major author change in the Book of Mormon: the one between Nephi and Jacob. From a logical standpoint, it the likelihood of their writing styles being particularly different seemed low. They were brothers, after all. And they went through many of the same experiences together.

And yet I’d remembered hearing before that Jacob was the most poetic writer out of all the Book of Mormon prophets. I decided to try to quantify this somewhat—to see if Jacob’s writing was really all that different from Nephi’s. I made a list of some poetic words and phrases that were used only by Jacob in the Book of Mormon:

Magnify our/mine office, head of their corner, labor in sin, delicate, familiar, pure in heart, plead your cause, slumber, contempt, unsearchable, good hope, confessed the Christ. 

And another list of words and phrases unique to Jacob:

Sobbings of their hearts, pointing our souls, firmness in spirit, overanxiety, in very word, poured in his Spirit into my soul, lonesome, mourn out our days, adieu. 

Most of those sound pretty depressing, don’t they? Upon closer inspection, I noticed that a large portion of these phrases are found in the chapters wherein Jacob chastises the men in his society who are involved in immorality and tries to speak comfort to their wives and children. Perhaps Jacob even felt that he’d been left to clean up the Nephites’ act after Nephi’s death. 

In this context, the tender and poignant words made more sense. Jacob did a great job using his vocabulary to put his heart and soul into a very sensitive subject that needed solving. He showed what a caring, worried, earnest man he was. I like to think (but somehow doubt) that I would’ve approached such a subject as well. 

Maybe I need to pull out my thesaurus more often. 

Getting Personal Here

Inner Struggle- It’s an Addiction

It’s right there. My mind is bothering me. Should I do it? Will I regret it? It really isn’t that big of a deal. Okay fine. I want it. I did it. I regret it. Why did I do that to myself? It honestly wasn’t even worth it.

I don’t have an eating disorder. I am just anal about food. I can’t stand this continuous process I go through every time I decide to eat something. But I also can’t help it.

I don’t have a disorder.

I have an addiction.

I am in love with food.

I hate the guilty feeling after eating what I do not need.

It is a social component.
“Let’s grab some lunch”

“Are we going to the dessert party?”

“One word, Sodalicous.”

Eating is so much fun. Being able to connect with another human being because of food is different then any other connection I have ever experienced. We need to eat to live. But what about all the extra things we don’t need to live but eat? I do it because I am addicted to the side effects. But why? I have no clue. It is my inner struggle.

Scripture- New Beginnings

            “I, Nephi, having been born of goodly parents, therefore I was taught somewhat in all the learning of my father; and having seen many afflictions in the course of my days, nevertheless, having been highly favored of the Lord in all my days; yea, having had a great knowledge of the goodness and the mysteries of God, therefore I make a record of my proceedings in my days.”

Every year my parents would gather my family the night before school and give my siblings and I a blessing. I looked forward to this time because I knew how special it was that I was able to receive such a blessing. But, this is the scripture that made this blessing stay with all year. Every first day of school my mother would wake us up to have family scripture study. We always restarted the Book of Mormon and this is the scripture I think back to. Even though our fathers blessing only happened once, studying the scriptures everyday reminded me of those blessings I was promised. Starting with this verse reminds my where I came from and who I want to be. It gave me a new beginning to a new year. Restart button. This scripture has been something I look forward to once a year.

            Since I was young my mother had me enrolled in many extra circular activities. Now that I am in college I like to keep myself busy and it is the beginning of the Book of Mormon that brings me peace and calm through out my stressful days.

Wilderness- Why am I here?

I am not a camping person. But I like to have fun. My best friend, Haleigh, and I had decided to take a trip down to Moab Utah to visit another friend who was a river guide there. Luckily for us my dad had gone to several Scout Camps and we had plenty of gear to take with us. Our friend had told us that it was warm enough that we didn’t need a tent. We grabbed cots, sleeping bags, pillows, and a cooler. By the time we got there it was late afternoon and our friend met us at our camping site and helped us to set up camp. There we made a fire where we cooked a luxurious hotdog and chill dinner and finished the night with smores. Our friend left to go back to her home and me and Haleigh were left in the Moab wilderness with no tent, and really no knowledge of camping. We laid on our cots and had pillow talked until we both decided we should get some sleep because we were going to have a long day on the river with our friend the following day. As I laid there in silence I realized I couldn’t fall asleep. After about ten minutes I had asked Haleigh if she was still awake. She was also having a hard time to go to sleep. The weather was warm enough but there was also a full moon. The moon and the star were so bright we could see each others faces clear without any extra light. It seemed the higher the moon rose the brighter the sky was. It was beautiful and kept me up all night thinking. I thought about the world I was created in. Why it was created for me. What is my true purpose here in this beautiful land.

Home-made Dreamer

Almost every night I go back to that place... I go back there in my dreams. I smell the cookies fresh out of the oven, I see the smiling faces, and I know--I'm home. 

Part One: How it Was

It changed so much, but it still remains the same. When my parents first moved in, each room had a different color of carpet. It was the 70’s then, so the previous owners weren’t shy on their color choices either—red, orange, blue, green…all bright, shaggy, and blinding. But things eventually changed there. Tan carpet replaced the rainbow floor, and burgundy carpet was laid carefully in the master bedroom. It was a simple improvement to make the house a home.

Checkmate

"Who's the more foolish; the fool, or the fool who follows him?" - Obi-Wan Kenobi

“You don’t have any kids?” he questioned me with a hint of sarcastic surprise in his voice. Followed closely by “and come to think of it, you don’t even have any grand-kids!” I couldn't suppress the laughter that was bubbling inside of me and it began to slip out as I tried to remain focused and serious.

Then the first match ended almost before it began. I should have seen it coming. The first pawn of mine that was taken resulted in check-mate. So as suddenly as we started it was over. I don’t take losing easily and wasn't going to let that happen again, despite my lack of experience in playing chess, compared to the 72 year old retired English teacher with an Afro that was sitting across from me.

From City to City

My world was turned upside down as a youth. Find out how.

Thoughts on Football, Duty, and Battle

With this first attempt at the Personal Essay Video, I decided to experiment with the venue or background of the recording to see if it would add or detract from the purpose of the video. I was hoping that a unique setting would add interest to the purpose of the video, but I am undecided as to whether or not it did that.

Here's the vid:

And here's a link to my personal essay blog post:
Musical Transcendence

Leave a comment about a time that you felt like you were going to war!

Visual Introduction

Perhaps a video recording will allow me to better express and share with you the idea behind my personal essay. My video is as original as it can be. This is the only recording I did to share about my personal essay.

Honestly I found no real struggle to share what my essay was about and how that related to the book of mormon. That may be because my content of a mission is and always has been so connected to experiences in the book of mormon. 

I felt that with only one minute available to share about my personal essay I had to prioritize what exactly I wanted to share. One minute does allow you to just ramble on and on. I had to make sure to get right to the point. 

To view my video click on the blue link. 

Elephant in the Front Yard (revised)

Oh, it smelled good. Tyler opened the grill hatch, the smoke wisping around his heavily-tattooed arm. Pork, beef, chicken, shrimp--a regular petting zoo getting cooked right in front of me. As a missionary I had gained a strong appetite, something I had lacked for much of my adolescence. Just 2 months earlier in fact, aided by a prescribed regular dosage of corticosteroids, I could down more food than my formerly 300-pound missionary companion. Considering my 150 pound frame, this was an accomplishment. 

Watching that searing cooked meat that day? I knew I wouldn't have any. I wasn't hungry. I hadn't been hungry. I began to wonder if I'd ever be hungry again.

Our mission president arrives with his wife, both dressed in black. They hug, shake hands, comment on the cooking food. They smile and show genuine enthusiasm for being able to see me and my two companions, Elder Clark and Elder Blair, and to finally meet the family (the Moores) that had kept us sane the last five days. Our mission president's wife, perhaps a little less likely to stay composed in situations like this than her husband, shows signs of losing said composure at the sight of Elder Clark. I look away, afraid to fall down that hole with her. 

Conversation remains light. Jokes are made, laughs are had, everyone doing their best to avoid the house-sized elephant in the room (or the front yard, in this case). And why wouldn't they avoid it? Elder Clark needed every opportunity to get things off his mind, and this BBQ was the perfect chance to do that. It's funny, then, that he was the first to address it.

"How was it?" he asked.

"It was really great." my mission president said, volunteering to take on the difficult task of describing the funeral. "The gym held 600 people and it was packed full. Just a wonderful celebration of his life."

You don't hear many funerals described as "great" but I was beyond relieved to hear that this one was. 

"Good, good." Elder Clark said. "Who's ready to eat?"

I'm reminded again of my lack of appetite. Was I taking things too hard? Elder Clark was grabbing a plate, piling it with meats. Why couldn't I stomach the thought of doing the same?

Our mission president takes Elder Clark into the house for an interview, plate full of food. I could only imagine what they would talk about. Things had improved since last Tuesday, but only as time tried to push the event further and further from our memories. But the uncertainty surrounding us was far too great for us to move on, and the memory of the event was mercilessly vivid in Elder Clark's mind. I could hear him at night. I could hear him waking up, gasping for air. I sit still, paralyzed by my perceived inability to comfort him.

"Elder Parker, wanna go for a walk?" my mission president said, emerging from the house with Elder Clark. Neither one had touched their food, it appeared. Elder Clark seemed well, content, maybe even happy. 

My mission president and I walk around the farm, along the recently harvested wheat. He asks me how I'm doing, how the counseling's been going. I tell him I've been better but I'm happy Elder Clark's been doing so well. He agrees. 

"How do I help him?" I ask. "I'm never sure what to say or whether or not we should even talk about it. I just don't feel helpful at all."

"I don't think he would agree with that."

A feeling of relief washes over me. I don't realize it right away, but this is exactly what I need to hear.

All this time I figured things were just out of my control and I couldn't do anything right and all the choices I had made up to that point were in vain. In some ways I felt like Nephi, as his family sailed the ship he had asked them to make across the ocean to the promised land. As things looked dire and hope seemed lost, he had reason to think the whole weight of the situation rested on his shoulders. But it wasn't, and he knew that. Even as his brothers had him bound and restrained and eventually released, he praised his God and didn't wallow in his misfortune.

Perhaps I should simply release myself from the bondage I was creating.

We walked back to the BBQ.  Elder Blair, oblivious as ever, was explaining to Tyler the proper way to grill a chicken breast. The mission president's wife talks with the mother of the Moore family about the two kids they have back home. Elder Clark was joking with the father of the Moore family about something crazy he did in high school. 

I take a bite out of a tender piece of grilled chicken. My body welcomes it.

No more elephants in the front yard. 

Meeting In The Living Room of Memories

Revision:
Based off of comments and the teacher conference I had with Professor Gideon Burton, I want to make some revisions to my personal essay. I plan on introducing the difference in this family gathering sooner, as well as going into more detail about the theme of family in the Book of Mormon.



I opened my off-white bedroom door, hearing the familiar creak that would accompany it only after it was two thirds of the way open. I walked down the hallway, avoiding the parts of the floor that seemed to cry in anguish when stepped on, towards my family room, which had light protruding from it. The hustle and bustle of life was overwhelmingly loud: kids were running and screaming everywhere, playing tag or driving pretend cars through the adults' legs, my brothers talked about work and their recent endeavors sporadically while listening to the game that was on the television, and the women in our family spoke of what women talk about, their topics of conversation never on one consistent track.

It was unusual to have every single family member present at that same time. Every special occasion seems to always have someone missing; whether for work or travels or something unexpected. This occasion had everyone there, laughing and enjoying the stories of memories made together, but had a thick tension in the air that seemed to suffocate everyone. Everyone was there because this occasion was different.

The couches in my family room weren't big enough to hold everyone, so the men had slid the rolling chairs from the kitchen to the edge of where the dining room hardwood met the family room carpet so they could be a part of the conversation that would soon begin. The setup was almost like every other family gathering: Christmas, except the people are split up into their own families, facing the Christmas tree in front of the window, and kids sitting impatiently on the floor waiting for their toys to be opened before they can go play. Birthday parties, where everyone sits randomly and the birthday girl/boy sits with almost a whole couch to themselves to make room for their presents. New Years, except with our family more centered around the table and the food, rather than the usual carpeted gathering place.

So many memories decorate the smells and the laughter of the room constantly occupied with people: Announcements that someone is pregnant, the laughter and competitive spirits created by the new Wii placed in front of the living room, the music that our family seems to somehow be centered on from fun nights of karaoke and dance parties, the center of blanket forts and cardboard box towns, a home theater filled with reclining chairs and popcorn, and even a counseling office.

There, in the middle of all the craziness, were my parents, holding hands, distant, but still smiling at the recalled memories. This was odd for my mom to be sitting in a house full of people, normally she'd be up making food of some sort, or getting her grandkids drinks. But not this time, she just sat next to my dad, tears and fears showing themselves in her wise and understanding brown eyes. Trials and adversity polka-dotted their marriage and the love that they had made at such a young age. They faced each trial together, as a team, and never let the other fall. The next one would be no excuse to their unity.

I sat down on the floor, my back leaning against the piano bench that faces the east wall. It had been a long day. The immense amount of emotions in me conflicted in every way, making me feel hollow. The family dinner we just had was one I'll never forget. One thing I knew for sure: I was grateful for my family, and I loved them. I knew that what the near future held for us was going to bring our family even closer together. We would need each other to lean on.

Sitting there, observing my family, I thought of a scripture from the Book of Mormon, "Now behold, there was no man among them save he had much family and many kindreds and friends; therefore their tribes became exceedingly great." Not only did we have a lot of family in that room, but because we had a family, we were "exceedingly great." My family is not perfect. We are not the typical American Dream family. But we still have something precious and of great worth just being part of a family. My family is the biggest support I have. They lift me up. They have helped me grow into the person I am today. They are priceless and of exceedingly great importance to me.

The family theme is very prevalent throughout the Book of Mormon. Lehi left all of his gold and treasures to go to the wilderness, but he made sure he had his family with him. Nephi took his family, his wife's family, and the family of the brothers who believed, and left Laman and Lemuel's family to protect his own. People traveled in families and stuck together. They worshipped together, they worked together. This theme has immersed itself into my family where we worship, work, and rejoice together. They're the center of my life. They're the ones I would follow into a wilderness of our own. The ones I will do anything to protect.

 My family, the one that has bonded over years of meeting in that family room, came together again that night with a different fear than any of us had felt before. We had all fasted that day - even the family member who had separated himself from religion - for my mom. The kids had finally all come to a stop at the foot of the couches, sensing the somberness, as we sat in silence for a few moments. Tears flowed easily from even the strongest of eyes. And then, in the middle of the living room that cemented our memories together, as one exceedingly great and giant family, we knelt in prayer for my mom, who was going in to surgery to have her breast cancer removed the following day.

Till We Meet Again

The sun shined down on our youthful faces as we played in the open field.

“Red rover, red rover!” We called, making the request for the next friend to run across the open distance and fling themselves upon our clasped hands in the hopes of breaking through the connection. Shrieks of joy and cries of encouragement filled the open air. Thistles coated my socks by the time my sister came to collect me.

“It’s time to start,” she told me softly. Sensing her somber tone, I followed her into the funeral home to say our final farewells to my grandmother. It was dark and uncomfortable in the old musty building. It smelled like death (a scent I related to moth balls) and the floral arrangements did little to mask the scent.

My feet scraped lightly on the ground as I swung my legs back and forth carelessly. My family all sat on the same pew, me sandwiched in between my older sister and my father. A hand settled on my knee, a silent reminder to be patient until the very end. Obediently, I stopped swinging my legs and instead focused on looking at the people around me.

Most of them I had never met before and I found them interesting to look at. There was a lady in the back wearing the most absurd hat and a man in the row opposite of us wearing one of those silly ties they wear in the western shows my dad watched sometimes. Returning my attention back to the front, I curiously looked at the coffin where my grandmother lay. She looked just like always, old, wrinkly, and grumpy.

The goodbye to my grandmother was simple. By the time I was old enough to remember her she had already lost her mind. The few times we spent together consisted of repeating the same conversation over and over for hours. I did not feel a great loss at her departure from this earth and the moment the service was over I joined the flock of children playing in the field once again.

Fast forward to nine days later.

Again we gathered as a family, but this time to say goodbye to my dad. His death was unexpected and startling to all who knew him; a heart attack that came out of nowhere.

 It had only been two weeks since my grandmother’s funeral, but somewhere in that time I had matured from my childish ten-year-old self into a young adult who was lost in a sea of grief. Thrust into this world that was cruel and terrifying, I refused to be left alone.

The children called to me, their voices which seemed so tempting two weeks before, held no appeal for me now. I would not leave the comfort of those closest to me.

Although I felt completely lost, we were not alone. I can hear the voices of the congregation singing, the stake center chapel and cultural hall both filled to the brim with people coming to mourn with those who mourn.

The melody flowed over me, consuming every facet of my mind.

God be with you till we meet again

The words were too difficult for me to get out. Emotions overwhelmed me and I wept for the loss of the man who was my best friend.

Words came from those who gathered, many with tears streaming down their faces as they hugged me and whispered in my ear: “Everything will be okay.”

I didn’t believe them.

Their words of comfort held the opposite effect on me. Instead of feeling relief I felt distress. How on earth was this person able to understand what I was feeling and then on top of that believe that it was going to be okay? They lost a friend but I had lost much more than that.

They didn’t understand.

My best friend came over a couple days before the funeral. She brought a little game that I was extremely fond of playing when I went to her house and told me “you can borrow it until you feel better.”

I was angry.

How could she pretend that a dumb game would help me feel better? It’s the thought that counts, but it often doesn’t help.

I cried. A lot.

It was overcast but warm as we gathered at the gravesite after the funeral service and again the familiar tune was played.

God be with you till we meet again

Never before had I understood the sorrow that Moroni must have felt when his people and his family were destroyed. Loneliness consumed my entire being and I didn’t understand why good people must die before their time.

Till we meet, till we meet,

Till we meet at Jesus’ feet,

Till we meet, till we meet,

God be with you till we meet again.

These words that we were singing as a final farewell to my father were not meant to come from us but to comfort us.

I heard them as from the voice of my dad, comforting me once more even though he was already gone.

God be with you till we meet again

When life’s perils thick confound you

Put his arms unfailing round you

God be with you till we meet again

Green

            Green.  It went on endlessly. A seemingly never-ending expanse of trees extended as far as the eye could see in either direction, until it crashed with the graying sky on one side, and a rich and heavenly collage on the other.  Orange had been painted across the horizon, with lines and shadows as if a real paintbrush had left it there.  Rays of gold and red nestled into the paint intermittently.  The angles of light allowed tree-covered mounds to rise up out of the forest floor in sporadic patterns, like green waves frozen in time.  

It was not the first time I had hiked the pyramids in that place.  In fact, the jungle was beginning to feel like home to me.  My western-themed bedroom was now just nylon walls surrounded by mosquito net.  Leafy paths became my hallways.  Handmade benches became part of our dining room furniture.  Our oven was made out of clay.  My bathroom was now not so pleasant, but our new endless backyard made it worth the inconvenience. And a miraculous view was available at the top of each staircase. 

I liked being out here.  The solitude and primitive lifestyle made me think.  Not many of the people from home had this.  I guess that adventures were harder to come by in Idaho.  I was privileged to be here.  Then again, back home, they were privileged that they could do their business on something that flushed. The little things I had before, now seemed almost like a dream.  Carpet; the long shaggy kind. Wouldn’t it be awesome to be able to press your cheek up against carpet? Or a mattress! I was so privileged back then.  Why had I taken it for granted?  I didn’t realize that so many people, like the ones here, did not have those things.

We sat. Black shadows of different sizes occasionally soared across the scene, dancing in the last rays of daylight. I remember sitting on that limestone block, taking in the scenery, and chuckling next to my brother.  His scraggly beard was evidence that he had not seen a mirror in months.  His hiking boots were covered in mud, with twigs and leaves plastered to the bottoms.  He clapped his hands together like a seal when he laughed, before leaning his mountain-man-like head on his wrist, his wide shoulders still shaking with laughter.  He seemed so different physically from the clean-cut man I had grown up with, but he was the same in every other sense: always wanting to compliment others; laughing at everyone’s jokes; and he could still quote the entire Dumb and Dumber movie even though he had not seen a television in ages. 

He was the kind of person that had every reason in the world not to be humble, and yet he was; extremely so.  If it wasn’t true that all of the girls wanted him, it certainly was true that all of the guys wanted to be him.  He had kind eyes; especially when he laughed. After composing ourselves, with a chuckle or two here and there, his breathing became slower, and heavier.  His shoulders fell as he breathed out; his face overcome with peace.  “Isn’t it incredible; to think about the people that were here before us?” 

I nodded my approval, and for a moment, I was instantly taken there.  The trees were gone; the walls became vibrant with color once again; and the city buzzed with life.  People scurried about below us as they carried out their assigned tasks.  Some wore jade ornaments. Many were laden with tools, or weapons.  A seemingly never-ending expanse of people extended as far as the eye could see. Men could be seen adding the last blocks to the outer wall.

We were able to be enjoying a moment of peace before the oncoming battle.  “Do you really think we can do it?,” I asked him.  I could see in his eyes that he did.  He was a strong and mighty man; he was a man that did not delight in bloodshed; but he joyed in liberty and freedom for his brethren.  He was thankful for the things he had.  His people enjoyed many privileges and blessings. I knew that he would defend his people, his rights, his country, and his religion, until his last breath.  If all men could like him, surely the devil would be powerless.  I would follow him anywhere; through any battle.  “Come on. We have work to do,” he said with a reassuring smile.

Green again. I was back. We sat.  A seemingly never-ending expanse of trees extended as far as the eye could see in either direction.  The sun was almost gone. A howler monkey roared like a lion in the distance.

“You know, it really is true.”

“What is?”

“The Church.”

“Yeah… I know,” I whispered as a dragonfly landed on a branch next to me. “I know.”

Do Not Procrastinate

1  In my lap: my scriptures, opened to Alma chapter 34. Next to me: my missionary companion, Elder Gregg. Across from me: the 70 year-old non-member husband of an active LDS church member, Jim. Listening, to the side, is Jim's wife, and another church member who accompanied us. My companion soldiers on, asking Jim some probing questions about baptism. We had previously been discussing baptism and how it's necessary for salvation. He disagreed, feeling that he had already been doing pretty well in life saw no need to do change anything about it now. This prompted Alma 34.

" I beseech of you that ye do not procrastinate the day of your repentance until the end; for after this day of life, which is given us to prepare for eternity, behold, if we do not improve our time while in this life, then cometh the night of darkness wherein there can be no labor performed."

This made logical sense. He doesn't think he needs to repent and change, and here's a scripture saying just the opposite. If I'm being prompted by the Spirit, and I share it with the Spirit, this just might be what he needs. So why aren't I sharing it? I see Jim looking back at us. 70 years of experience to my 21. 70 years of hard work, heartache, joy, accomplishment--he had fathered and grandfathered a wonderful family, whose pictures were displayed all around us. 70 years of making good decisions and seeing the fruits of them. Who am I to tell him he must change? Something's holding me back. Jim was a stubborn man. In our last visit his wife told him his baptism was nothing but a warm bath. He didn't take that too well. I don't imagine he'll respond any better to being told he's about to die and should probably consider making some changes. Maybe the Spirit's telling me now that I shouldn't share that scripture?

My companion notices my scriptures open and gives me a look, as if to say "you have something to share?"

I don't.

I close my scriptures.

I'll never know what would've happened had I shared it. Maybe nothing. Maybe he would've just brushed it off. Maybe he would've felt it was true. I don't know. But something about it didn't feel right that time, and that's all I can conclude it with.

2  The Savior said it best:

"For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also."

Up until that moment I hadn't considered what this scripture should mean for me. Up until that point I could talk your ear off when it came to film or sports. I was passionate about those things. I had just talked at length to a nice lady about both of those things, based on her similar passion for them.

But faith? Repentance? I couldn't give nearly as much lip service to them as anything else I had said that day. For so long I had let the church become less than a passion. I did not treasure it the same way I did sports and film. I should be able to speak volumes about gospel topics and what they've meant to me. But I couldn't, and he knew that. That's why he shared that scripture.

Since then I've tried all I can to treasure the gospel and put my heart into it--to make it a passion. I've been rewarded immensely, seeing the blessings of my increased devotion on a daily basis. He shared the scripture that I needed to hear, but the Savior said it best.

3  Understandably nervous and perhaps a little anxious, I got on my knees and gave my first personal prayer in nearly 6 years. I was done trying to get by with what I had reasoned in my head. I was done telling people I was over the church without having actually tried to find out if it was true. I had denied God's existence in my head over and over yet I had never tried to actually prove it. So there I knelt, immature in my experience with prayer, throwing up a white flag and hoping for answer.

I can best describe what I felt by saying that there was nowhere else on Earth I would rather be than right there at the foot of my bed. I knew, almost without prompt, that I should've done that a long time ago. I had spent so much effort pushing Him out but I had never let Him in. I still wasn't sure if the LDS church was true--that would come much later. But I at least knew it was good. Good to me, good to my family, good to millions of others. There was something there in the LDS church that couldn't be ignored. Starting from that moment, I needed to find it.

Tone of Voice Speaks Literal Volumes

Example #1: Character

In 3 Nephi 28 we learn about the character of the new Nephite Apostles by their true desires. They ask Christ for these things, some are more timid than the others. This shows humility in their desires.

This is similar to Emily Lewis' post where she points to Alma humbly and submissively prays for his brother. In both cases the character of the person is shown through their words.

Photo From: irishoriginsofcivilization.com

Example #2: Plot

In 3 Nephi 26-27, Christ visits the Nephites. He teaches them and gives them commandments. He sets up the church by calling leaders. He then has a dialogue with the leaders alone from the multitude. It is the way in which Christ speaks that leads the people to trust and love Him.

I am reminded of Mary Ellsworth's post where she describes the power of words in the way words are said. Just as Christ was trusted because he spoke lovingly, Mary’s compassionate tone allowed her brother to trust her and love her in return.

Photo from: celtcorp.com

Example #3: Dialogue

The dialogue in 3 Nephi 27 is peculiar in the sense that there is both teaching done by Christ as well as commandments given. There is little return dialogue expect in the form of questions for clarification. This shows the place of each person in the writing; there is the teacher and the student. Some

This is very similar to Miranda Ray's post. She describes a father who teaches their sons about a vocation and also by teaching them about their past family. In both cases the form of speech is one of teacher and student.

Nephi and Jacob's Personal Experiences

Example #1:

In the end of 2 Nephi 33, Nephi gives a farewell to his people and his life.  He tells them that judge his works to not judge him, but to ask Christ if his words are true.  He is almost a little defensive as he speaks about the words he has been commanded to write.

Example #2:

At the beginning of the book of Jacob, in verses 1 through 4, Jacob describes what might have been a very emotional conversation between him and his brother Nephi.  They are discussing their obligation to write specific things on the small plates.  Nephi is giving specific instruction to his brother.

Example #3:

In Jacob chapter 2, he is compelled to chastise the people.  It is obvious that he is feeling very torn and upset about this obligation as he describes what he wishes he could be preaching.  This 'inner war' ends in his obedience to God's commandments when he says, "I must do according to the strict commands of God, and tell you concerning your wickedness and abominations..."

Reviewing a fellow student's blog post

Emily Lewis' post described her saying her last goodbyes to her family before departing to serve her mission.  Her experience reminds me of Nephi's farewell to his people in 2 Nephi 33.  Although Emily's time away from her loved ones was less permanent, it has the same feelings as Nephi's farewell and last words.

 

Josh Smith's post described a very emotional conversation between him and what seems to have been a serious girlfriend.  This reminds me of Nephi and Jacob's conversation about the fate of their people.  The things that were said in both of these conversations changed the lives of the people involved.

Romney Hansen's post described what seems to be an inner war.  He wrote, "I have to clench my fists in order to control myself... ‘Hold it in.  It’s not worth it.’"  In these words, I can see him fighting against what he wants to do because it is "not worth it."  This is similar to Jacob's feelings about chastising his people in Jacob 2.  Jacob finds himself torn between his will and God's will.

Big Trouble

Example #1
In Alma 38:8 an aging father tells his son of a pivotal moment that changed his life. This event
shaped his life and changed how he lived.

Example #2
In Alma 39:3 a father speaks harsh words to his son when he discovers that he has explicitly disobeyed instructions and made poor choices. The father is particularly upset about his son's choice to be intimate with a harlot.

Example #3
In Alma 43:4, the narrator begins his description of a conflict between two tribal like groups. He describes the leaders and moral state of each side.

Example #4
A heated dialogue between to captains of armies begins in Alma 44:1. There is a disagreement and the argument turns violent when one of them charges the other with a sword.

Reviewing Other's Posts
In Clark Nielsons Post entitled "Baggy Old, Ragged Jeans" he wrote a section about people of consequence. In this part of his post, he talked about an experience with his boss that is related to my description of a father expressing his disappointment in his son. Although Clark was not the son of his boss, the father and the boss both express their extreme dissatisfaction.

Being Jared's Brother

Example #1
Mormon 1: Character - A man is surrounded in his own country that has been invaded by his people's enemies. All his family and friends have been killed and his is completely isolates without anyone to turn to.
Example #2
Ether 1: Plot - A big group of people build a huge tower to get to heaven, and as a result get cursed so that they can't communicated with each other anymore. There is one family that has the curse removed, and they leave everyone else and go on an expedition.
Example #3
Ether 6: Dialogue - Two brothers are about to die, and are trying to decide who will be in charge once they are gone be a use they don't want their family to have a king. Their families asks for them to choose one of their sons to be king. They ask several of their sons until one of them finally accepts.
Example #4
Ether 2: Language - A man's brother forgets to pray for a long time since he forgot and became really lazy. So he climbs a mountain and has a vocal conversation with deity.

In Eliza's post she talked about walking around the house with her cousin and having feelings of emptiness because of the lack of different things, which is the same as Moroni being alone and having feelings of emptiness because of the losses and changes that he experienced.

Then Keegan talked about going to Africa and being only white people there, much like the brother of Jared's family being the only ones after the tower of Babel that were differwnt from everyone else because they are able to understand each others language.

General Moroni, on a General Level

Assigned Section: Alma 62-Helaman 5 

First I reviewed my assigned section of the Book of Mormon to find four general human experiences that people could easily relate to. I then reviewed several people's blog posts and found Lizzy Sainsbury's post and related three of her experiences to those in the Book of Mormon. I did this on a general level, rather than a spiritual one. 

Example 1-Character (Alma 62: 1-8)

In the start of Alma 62 we see a war captain (Moroni) rejoicing that his friend (Pahoran) is not a traitor, though he had suspected he might be. Moroni then goes to his resucue. Moroni and Pahoran were friends generally, although Moroni did accuse him of being a traitor at one point. Ultimately, Moroni went to Pahoran's defense. 

In the same way, from her post it seems like Lizzy occasionally argued or annoyed her sister (and was similarly bothered by her younger brother) but ultimately it was clear that she cared very much for her family and would do almost anything for her in the same way that Moroni went to pahoran's defense. 
 

Example 2-Plot (Alma 62: 12-26) 

Moroni, a war captain, was determined to retake the city of Nephihah. His enemy, the lamanites, wouldn’t come out to meet him, so Moroni spied on the city at night, and came up with an idea. The idea was to climb over the city walls using ropes, and then surprise the enemy in the morning. This plan was executed perfectly, and there wasn’t a single Nephite lost.  

Example 3- Description (Helaman 3: 4-11) 

Because of disputes in Zarahemla, many people leave the city traveling over large bodies of water into many lands without timber that were desolate. Because of how desolate the land was they made houses of cement. They didn’t harvest any wood in the desolate land because they needed it to grow, so instead they had a shipping system to transport wood to their settlements in the north. 

The vivid description and imagery of Lizzy's backyard in her post ( especially the pool of water at the bottom of the slip-n-slide, the pleasant smells, and the mud) creates an idyllic scene, which stand in contrast to the description of a desolate wilderness devoid of trees in the land northward in Helaman 3. 
 

Example 4-Language (Helaman 5:5-13) 

A Father tells his two sons about who they are named after, and also reminds them of many things which are written in the scriptures. His emphasis is for them to remember things that have passed, and because of his teachings they became teachers and began proselyting. 

Just like Lehi and Nephi (the brothers, not the father and son) had a very strong relationship with each other and their father, Lizzy talked about how her family (and especially her sister Mary) was clearly influential in her life.