Report Draft: E

The foundation for personal sharing came from the sharing plan that people created. Mary and Lizzy both said that creating this plan made them sit back and think about who would be able to connect with their message. Justin said “It made me choose carefully who I would open my personal life up to.” Another important preparation for sharing the final form was sharing our drafts with people inside and outside of class. Some people (like Andrew) received critical feedback, while others (like Mandy) received encouragement to go a specific direction. Regardless of the feedback, people felt that sharing their rough drafts helped them strengthen relationships.

Because people had thought about who they wanted to share with in advance, many people sought out the most appropriate content to their circumstances. This meant that often they were sharing other people’s content. For example, Tori and Clark both shared Keegan’s content about his experiences in Africa on his mission. Since people knew who they intended to share with, they made efforts to reach out to and rekindle those connections prior to sharing. Finally, because we produced many versions and formats for our essays we were given the option to share according to our audience. For example, Keegan shared a PDF version and his YouTube video with his grandma because she is not very tech savy with the internet and blogs. Through these forms we shared our essays to different individuals for different reasons. The reactions of our audiences were different, but most found success because of their sharing plans.


Group 4: Keegan Brown, Clark Nielson, Katie Roper

The Process of Sharing

         So far sharing has gone pretty well this weekend. Through these sharing efforts I have been able to make some good connections, and continue to make more and make them meaningful.

       The first people I reached out too was my two high school teachers named Mr. Snedeker and Mr. Tinker. I haven't really been able to talk to them a whole lot since I got back from my mission, but they were always supportive. I shared the link to my essay on the blog, and they were very thankful that I thought of them and shared something so personal with them.

      I also reached out to a ward member from back home that runs that Mormon Faces Instagram account, and she has agreed for when I get back home for break to be interviewed and featured on the account, explaining positive ways to use social media, and linking to our class blog. I've also reached out to some of my family members, close and extended, and sent them my PDF version to read, as they have followed my mission adventure throughout the two years, and this makes a good little epilogue to it.

     I'm still in the process of sharing, still trying to get in contact with some people, but overall so far, the sharing has been a very positive experience. I feel this is exactly what Elder Bednar meant when he gave his devotional talk about social media, and its positive impact it can have on people and their relationships. We just have to have the courage to share, and allow the spirit to work through us and inspire us who to share it with.

God Blessed The Broken Road

 On a long, dusty road in the middle of Africa, I learned a powerful and valuable lesson.

The Blueprint For Sharing

1.     My good friend,  KF. She got close to getting baptized while I was gone on my mission, but eventually didn’t go through with it. I think she would appreciate my personal essay that describes a little bit what I went through on my mission, and hopefully touch her.

2.     A member in our Ward, SG. She runs a pretty popular instagram account called Mormon Faces. I would like to share the playlist of the videos with her and try to get our project featured on this account to reach close to 6000 people.

3.     One of my favorite teachers, Mr. S. He was my AP US History teacher when I was a junior in High School, and he was my favorite teacher. I also nominated him and he came to a Youth Church Awards ceremony for teachers. He was always supportive of my mission, and I think he would like to read a short essay about my experiences.

4.     My other favorite teacher and golf coach, Mr. T. I knew him all 4 years in high school and spent a lot of time outside of school with him. He is a part of a part-member family, as his wife and daughter are members of the Church. He knows a lot about the Church and missions, and I would like to share my essay with him.

5.     My good friend, TB. He has been my best friend for a long time, and we were able to get him to take a couple of the missionary lessons before I left on my mission, and he knows our beliefs pretty well. He also went to Africa for 2 weeks to do a church like mission, so I think he would enjoy reading my essay about me serving in Africa.

6.     My little brother, KB. I think he would enjoy Krista Beatie’s because he himself pretty soon will be receiving his mission call. I think it would be cool for him to get a kind of insight of the feelings that come with receiving a mission call and opening one as well.

7.     My roommate, PW. His life has been affected by suicide, so I think it would be good for him to read Ryan Well’s essay, which talks about his grandmother and suicide. This could lead to a better emotional connection with my roommate and a very constructive open conversation amongst us. It could really help him with his past experiences and find hope.

Authenticity Liberated by Fiction

            LDS culture is portrayed throughout society in a variety of ways. Fiction is one of those mediums that LDS authors use to portray this culture in a new light. In “Will Wonders Never Cease” by Doug Thayer, a refreshing portrayal of this culture is shown through the eyes of a 15-year-old boy.

            Through the use of candor and honesty, we have a unique view and perspective on the LDS culture, and how this culture handles real life issues and situations. Because of this candor, the story shows an authentic representation of Kyle and his life, and how the mind of a 15-year-old boy works.  For example, like we discussed in class, things like same-sex attraction and sex education are spoken so openly and discussed amongst the characters, that it shows a different way to show the LDS culture and beliefs amongst other people.

            Fiction I believe allows for this authentic representation to flourish over other mediums like nonfiction. Nonfiction is restricted to the facts and portraying the events and thoughts of a story according to something that already happened, and doesn’t leave much room for branching out. While in fiction, the author has the liberty of creating characters and the setting where the story will take place. Then they can show ideas and situations that interact with these characters that show an authentic representation of the character’s lives and beliefs. Fiction, I believe, has more leeway in allowing the author to engage the reader in different ways compared to a personal essay. In my opinion, LDS fiction allows the best medium for authors to deliver an authentic representation of one’s lives and beliefs in the most engaging manner to the audience.

Video Teaser Post

           I filmed this brief little video talking a little bit about my essay and talk a bit about what I learned. I had to take a lot of takes because I had a general way of what I wanted to say, but kept messing up. My video probably could be a lot better, but I was just focusing on what I was saying than what the video looked like.

Connecting Through Form

            It was a great experience in sharing and reading my personal essay with my girlfriend, as it provided good feedback on some things I could work on, but as well as strengthen our relationship together. Some of the changes that I made after I read it out loud once again and hearing some of the feedback she gave I think really improved the overall strength of the essay. Not really any major changes to the essay, but small tweaks here and there on words and phrases that help the flow of the essay and improve the description in the essay.

            Like I said before, the experience of sharing my own writing with my girlfriend was a very positive one. Let alone the feedback she gave, I was able to express a mission memory in a whole new form that allowed her to connect to it in a different way. Instead of telling her a story by memory, I let the words of this personal essay bring her into a small portion of my mission. She was able to see another view, angle, perspective of my experiences in Africa through my writing. I don’t share my writing with anyone in my personal life, so I was little nervous when reading this to her. But she greatly appreciated it, and this opened up questions and discussion on some other parts of my mission that we had never talked about before. This experience showed me that writing is just another form of how we can express ourselves to our audience and others. Sometimes, like writing in different styles, communicating through formal essays instead or tweets or texts, we can have a better personal connection with someone and connect with a multitude of people.

Paralyzing Fear in Marilyn Bushman-Carlton's "So She Wouldn't Fail"

Everyone has fears of the unknown, sometimes causing us from taking chances and chasing after our dreams. In “So She Wouldn’t Fail” by Marilyn Bushman-Carlton, she writes of a woman who puts her trust in the average things in the world to avoid the bitter taste of failure.

            So she wouldn’t fail at something big,

            she kept busy doing average things,

            things she wasn’t ashamed to talk about,

            exactly, things she could always say

            were temporary, and just until she found

            what it was she was really mean to do, or be.

She uses imagery in a couple different stanzas to express and illustrate the feelings and thoughts of the character she centers her poem around. For example, “She could see herself shut inside / an office, skin wrung out and gray, / feet itching inside three-inch heels” which illustrates a tone of dread and a dismal outlook on what the future could hold for her. The title of the poem “So She Wouldn’t Fail” also adds to the motif of avoiding risks and chasing dreams. But instead playing it safe, which leads to misery, unhappiness and wasted potential.

This poem reminded me of some wasted opportunities in my life that I should have taken but did not because of fear. I could connect with some of the feelings and thoughts of the character, because I have had similar musings myself. Sometimes I subject myself and settle for mediocrity for the fear of failure, or the fear or stepping out into the unknown. This poem truly highlights the aspect of human nature that fears the unknown and settles which is more comfortable and easy. And this settling leads to a state of unhappiness and regret that their lives are not fulfilling. I have had plenty of those moments of regret for not taking advantage of some of the opportunities that life has given me.

This poem can resonate with Mormons because it highlights the potential of a soul and why we are truly here. We are here to learn and progress, and not rest on our laurels. We have a divine potential that only grows as we fail. Because the character tries to avoid failure, she is only wasting her potential and stunting her progression. This poem reminded me of the fact that failure is necessary and I shouldn’t stop chasing goals and dreams because of the paralyzing fear of failure. 

(401 Words)

God Blessed The Broken Road #2

Explanation for Revision: 

        I appreciated the feedback I got in the comments of my post and suggestions from our instruction. One thing he mentioned to me was trying to make it more intimate instead of observing from afar. Have a bit more interaction within the experience. So I included a funny little story with the kids in the street and how it highlighted their happiness with having such little. I added that, and some other small little changes in the text that tired to make it more personal, and left all the rich details in there to play off each other.

          

             

Step by step for over eight months I had walked this street. Sweat always protruding from my body into my nice white button-up shirt, begging for the dust and dirt that I kicked up to cling to it. Heat, sweat, exhaustion, and the dust are things I try to forget as I trudge once again down this forsaken spat of road. Bustling about up and down the road, the kids go about playing, oblivious to their surroundings. African Spirituals can be heard coming from people’s yards, showing their utmost devotion to their Creator. Women with baskets on their heads would yell out like a frenzied baboon, as they were passing through in, trying to make a couple of sales for the day. Older kids would go about doing their chores, going out and finding water, and then carrying by the gallons the water back to their homes. Adults take advantage of the islands of shade that are spotted up and down the road, chugging alcohol like it was nothing.

As we pass by, all of their eyes are upon us; kids and some adults’ eyes lit with curiosity while others look on in bewilderment. “Chinesh” one of them yells, and soon after follows the chorus of kids like a wild pack of dogs yelling the words Chinesh and Amigo. It always amuses me that we are mistaken for so many nationalities, predominantly the Chinese. Their childlike innocence was always in full display on this long, dusty road. They have never had much in their lives, exhibited by their appearance and mannerisms. The ragged clothes, or lack there of give little to no protection to the merciless beating of the sun’s rays on their skin. Like a bag of bones, they would run, jump, climb, and make toys out of garbage and admire them as if they had just gotten a new Xbox. Excitement always rises when we pass by, wearing beaming smiles with their cracked lips. They would always want fist bumps with the white aliens that would come into their world everyday, and be so excited like a celebrity had touched their hands. Giving them attention was like putting them on a stage, and they wanted to show you how cool they were like they were going for first place at a talent show. Totally oblivious to the comforts of life, they go about like happy go-lucky kids in a candy store. Just happy to be alive and happy to have what little that they could call their own.

This sense of contentment and happiness rubbed and wore down on me with each step over the past eight months. How could these people be content and comfortable with such a way of living? The question ate at me each day as I turned onto that path. Observing the families and kids go about their daily lives as we walked each day on that road only amplified that question. Their tiny brick homes, that they probably laid brick for brick by themselves, was only an outward manifestation of what I thought was the state of their lives.  I felt such pity for them for not being able to experience the comforts and privileges that I have lived with my whole entire life. Wasted potential is all I could think of as I stared at each person that went about their business on that road.

Finally, one more trip down this road opened up my eyes that I already thought were open. We were walking down the street and were talking with some kids and they wanted us to film them as they did some tricks off this tire.  What they would do is get a running start and then jump off this old tire like it was a trampoline and do tricks off it. Well these 4 kids quickly turned into 30 kids doing tricks for us, and it was so funny. One kid did a front flip and biffed it bad and landed flat on his back with a huge thud like a kid belly flopping into a pool. They had so much fun, the joy and happiness emanated off them like any other kid on this planet. It would be hard for them to trade that old tire for the next new Ipad or Frozen doll. On our way back down the road I saw a family cooking and laughing together as they sat on plastic lawn chairs in their yard wasn’t anything out of the ordinary that I had already seen on that road. But within that family, I could see my family doing the exact same thing but under a few slight different circumstances. Their meal was nothing more than rice and beans, nothing in comparison to my family’s dinners, but they were having a special family bonding moment, like many times my family has experienced. The feelings of tenderness and love were easily exhibited between each other, forging the bonds of true affection.  The companionship and unity transcended the dismal circumstances surrounding them, and they were truly happy. Their living conditions were not the shackles that held them captive but actually liberated them.

They did not have the hindrances that are designed to constantly entertain a person everyday and tune out everyone around them. Their lives reflected the desert travels of Nephi’s family, where all they were left with was the bare minimum. In these circumstances their love for each other grew and they praised their Creator for everything they had. Whatever happens and whatever circumstances people experience, happiness is always right there for the taking. Always available, and always sought after, we are constantly in the pursuit of happiness. I now miss that forsaken spat of road, for truly God blessed that broken road.

God Blessed The Broken Road

            Step by step for over eight months I had walked this street. Sweat always protruding from my body into my nice white button-up shirt, begging for the dust and dirt that I kicked up to cling to it. Heat, sweat, exhaustion, and the dust are things I try to forget as I trudge once again down this forsaken spat of road. Bustling about up and down the road, the kids go about playing, oblivious to their surroundings. African Spirituals can be heard coming from people’s yards, showing their utmost devotion to their Creator. Women with baskets on their heads would yell out like a frenzied baboon, as they were passing through in, trying to make a couple of sales for the day. Older kids would go about doing their chores, going out and finding water, and then carrying by the gallons the water back to their homes. Adults take advantage of the islands of shade that are spotted up and down the road, chugging alcohol like it was nothing.

As we pass by, all of their eyes are upon us; kids and some adults’ eyes lit with curiosity while others look on in bewilderment. “Chinesh” one of them yells, and soon after follows the chorus of kids like a wild pack of dogs yelling the words Chinesh and Amigo. It always amuses me that we are mistaken for so many nationalities, predominantly the Chinese. Their childlike innocence was always in full display on this long, dusty road. They have never had much in their lives, exhibited by their appearance and mannerisms. The ragged clothes, or lack there of give little to no protection to the merciless beating of the sun’s rays on their skin. Like a bag of bones, they would run, jump, climb, and make toys out of garbage and admire them as if they had just gotten a new Xbox. Excitement always rises when we pass by, wearing beaming smiles with their cracked lips. They would always want fist bumps with the white aliens that would come into their world everyday, and be so excited like a celebrity had touched their hands. Giving them attention was like putting them on a stage, and they wanted to show you how cool they were like a talent show. Totally oblivious to the comforts of life, they go about like happy go-lucky kids in a candy store. Just happy to be alive and happy to have what little that they could call their own.

This sense of contentment and happiness rubbed and wore down on me with each step over the past eight months. How could these people be content and comfortable with such a way of living? The question ate at me each day as I turned onto that path. Observing the families and kids go about their daily lives as we walked each day on that road only amplified that question. Their tiny brick homes, that they probably laid brick for brick by themselves, was only an outward manifestation of what I thought was the state of their lives.  I felt such pity for them for not being able to experience the comforts and privileges that I have lived with my whole entire life. Wasted potential is all I could think of as I stared at each person that went about their business on that road.

Finally, one more trip down this road opened up my eyes that I already thought were open. Watching a family cooking and laughing together as they sat on plastic lawn chairs in their yard wasn’t anything out of the ordinary that I had already seen on that road. But within that family, I could see my family doing the exact same thing but under a few slight different circumstances. Their meal was nothing more than rice and beans, nothing in comparison to my family’s dinners, but they were having a special family bonding moment, like many times my family has experienced. The feelings of tenderness and love were easily exhibited between each other, forging the bonds of true affection.  The companionship and unity transcended the dismal circumstances surrounding them, and they were truly happy. Their living conditions were not the shackles that held them captive but actually liberated them.

They did not have the hindrances that are designed to constantly entertain a person everyday and tune out everyone around them. Their lives reflected the desert travels of Nephi’s family, where all they were left with was the bare minimum. In these circumstances their love for each other grew and they praised their Creator for everything they had. Whatever happens and whatever circumstances people experience, happiness is always right there for the taking. Always available, and always sought after, but most of the time sought for in the wrong mediums. I now miss that forsaken spat of road, for truly God blessed that broken road.

Little Rays of Sunshine

            Delson is your typical African child, overly friendly and curious to know the unknown. As a missionary, I loved being with, playing with, and messing with the little African or more specifically Angolan children.  These kids roam the streets day in and day out, using their imaginations to carry them day-to-day. Some wearing practically nothing to other kids wearing old Bananas in Pajamas t-shirts, they always carried a smile with them. But all of them would call us Chinese, without fail. Some kids would love us as we walked in their neighborhoods, while others would get really nervous and run away, some crying, thinking we were the walkers from the “Walking Dead”. 

              Once they aren’t afraid of you and start talking with you, they just love the attention. And once you pull out a camera, you start a feeding frenzy, where you would be talking to like 5 kids and then once the camera is pulled out, there would be like 20 kids out of nowhere. For example, one time in the street we were talking with some kids and they wanted us to film them as they did some tricks off this tire.  What they would do is get a running start and then jump off this old tire like it was a trampoline and do tricks off it. Well these 4 kids quickly turned into 30 kids doing tricks for us, and it was so funny. One kid did a front flip and biffed it bad and landed flat on his back with a huge thud like a kid belly flopping into a pool. 

       

They are some of the most interesting and funniest kids you will ever meet, and the way they are growing up isn’t affecting that. They have as much fun as any kid in the whole world.

Finding and Claiming Myself

Internal Struggle:

            It had to be today; it could go on no longer. I had been carrying the burden for far too long. As I sat at my study desk, blankly staring at my scriptures, I had made the decision so many times in the past. But I would always take a hit off the intellectual drug called rationalization right after, and my decision would slowly dissipate away from me: but not this time. It couldn’t get away from me this time; I needed a release from the load I was carrying. Though I was determined to stubbornly carry it, falsely assuming in my own strength and willpower, I was cracking and breaking down. I left the room and took the phone with me. I nervously paced the living room trying to work up the slightest bit of courage to go through with it. It was the fear of the unknown that paralyzed me and put fear into my soul. I would dial the number, and then quickly hang up, praying to God to give me the strength to just go through with it. I couldn’t go a day further with this poison in my soul. I dialed once again, this time with the strength to let it ring a couple of times, and then he picked up.

Scripture:

I seek daily reminders to help me in my struggles throughout life. They can come from all sorts of people and in all sorts of forms, but the most impactful come from the one who is always watching over me. Helaman 7:16-20 is just one of those examples of his watchful care over me. How could I ever let myself give any power to the one who is seeking to hurl my soul down into the bitterness of Hell? How could I ever forget my great and merciful God in the day that he saved me? These questions I must ask myself when I see myself stray and stumble. Because it’s so frustrating of how clear and cut it is and how stupid I can be at times, knowing the things I do. His answer is always the same “repent ye, repent ye! Why will ye die? Turn ye, turn ye unto the Lord your God”. Step by step, I try to better myself and become something more, trying everyday to never forget my God.

Wilderness Quest:

            “Well we got nothing until the night, wanna try to walk to Mundial?” This statement would lead to the next 4-5 hours of walking uphill in the dust, not even coming close to the intended place we wanted to get too. What this walk was truly accomplishing was nothing for the work, but trying to find my footing once again in this area. I was once again struggling as the area was collapsing around me, and I needed God’s help. Every step and every breath seemed like a waste of time as we climbed and climbed.  I felt like a failure, the leader turning to a useless hill climb to kill time masquerading as an activity that would help our area. Though I felt like I was failing, I was also feeling peace and comfort with each step we made. The reassuring trust of my God that I was doing my best and that was good enough for him. As we made that long and dusty hike in the hot African sun, I was trying to find myself again, as well as seek out the help of my God. But in reality I didn’t find God, but God found me out on that hill.

Nephi: Simpler Than You Would Assume

Example #1: Note this example is paying attention to the Character:

·      In 2^nd Nephi 21:7 the main character Nephi shows his empathetic side for his people by crying and having anguish in his soul over the future of his people.

Example #2: Note this example is paying attention to the Description/Imagery:

·      In 2^nd Nephi 26:4-6 the main character Nephi describes the future using the imagery of being burned to stubble, earthquakes, lightnings, building falling and crushing people to pieces, and whirlwinds carrying people away.

Example #3: Note this example is paying attention to the Setting:

·      In 2^nd Nephi 23:19-22 Babylon is described as being desolate, uninhabitable, being a place where only creatures would like to live and not people.

Reviewing Other’s Blog Posts

·      In Tori’s post she can be compared with Nephi of having that empathetic side for her Mom as she was going through the trials and hardships that she was experiencing.

·      In Eliza’s post about the celestial lawn, she uses imagery and vivid description to have those images pop into our minds, which is like what Nephi did, but in a more positive and happy way.

·      In Romney’s post he describes the setting of Guatemala not in the negative way as in 2^nd Nephi but describes it in such a way that it vividly describes the setting where the experience is taking place.

African Sadness

1). As the scorching hot African sun pierced the clear blue sky, the stale smell of the cemetery permeated throughout the surroundings. Way sweaty because we were in suits.  Drank a Coca Cola before walking into the cemetery. Slight breeze, but not much at all to distract from the Sun. The sounds of crying and wailing could be heard from all ends of the cemetery.

2) Walking down the pathway numerous graves are protruding from the ground, differing in size and shape. Symbols of the wealth and class of the past. Giant Mausoleums, nice tombstones, hastily built tombstone, mounds of dirt in the ground. A mass of people all dressed in black surrounding the grave site. Being the only white people in the group. Standing off to the side, almost on top of someone’s grave because we were late getting there. Many flowers there and thrown into burial site. Singing of spirituals and loud crying.

3) The mother screaming and crying the child’s name and the word no over and over and over again. The catholic priest giving his short little sermon about death, how dust we came and now as dust we must return. The African spirituals that they sang. They sang about returning home to our Father, about love, peace and hope. Others who also were crying repeating the words no, no, no over and over again.

4) It was the first time I had ever experienced a funeral like this. Standing and watching as so many people suffering from anguish and sadness twisted my soul. I wanted to comfort them, I wanted to take away the anguish they were feeling. I felt depressed and sad myself, being influenced by the people around me. I could feel that despair that death brings to ones life, having never had to experience that before in my life. And then I remembered my Savior, and why we are here. I began feeling lighter and a burning within me that seemed to push the despair I was just feeling out of my surroundings. I began feeling hope once more, the happiness, and understanding. Joy filled within me that I wished it would overflow and spill over to the other participants of the funeral.

5) My investigator/The Father: Big Teddy Bear of a man, Calm and collected. Held his composure, just looked on as the funeral continued. When we said hi to him he let a few moments of emotion and crying.

The Mother: Big, Solid African Woman, Hysterical, couldn’t keep herself together. Screaming, crying, wailing.

The Mourners: Took the lead from the Mother, crying, wailing, singing. Lots of emotion were showed by multiple people. Their emotion could easily be felt.

Elder Quentin L. Cook: A Storyteller at Heart

          Elder Quentin L. Cook this April's conference addressed his fellow audience on the importance of choices and decisions. A rhetorical element that he used and has a tendency of using is the use of stories in his talks. Because Elder Cook was a lawyer for over 27 years, he has had variety of interactions an experiences with many different kinds of people. Because of this experience, he knows how to interact and connect emotionally with an intended audience, and one way he does this is through stories.

            Looking at his talk called "Choose Wisely" from the October 2014 conference, and another General Conference talk called      “ Personal Peace: The Reward of Righteousness” from the April 2013 conference, he loves to use stories to illustrates his points, and evoke emotion out of the audience in the form of keeping their attention, as well as internalizing it. For example in this past conference, he used the stories of the Peanuts comic and Merlin Olson to bring humor into his talk, and to keep the attention of the audience. Which was confirmed by the audience reaction of laughing. These stories also illustrated his main point of making key choices and decisions. 

         In his other talk, his stories have a different impact on his audience. To match the somber tone of his talk, he uses poignant stories about the Ivory Coast, 9/11 attacks, and the Elementary School Shooting in Connecticut.  These stories also draw an emotional response from the audience, but in a different way that forces the audience to think and reflect. Through these examples, its very clear to me that Elder Cook loves to use stories to bring Pathos to his talks, as well to bring Logos into his talk.  The emotional appeal of his stories draws the audience in like a hook, and continues to string them along the rest of his talk. He is a storyteller at heart.  

The Burden of Wounds

            In my section there wasn’t any “spoken word”, but only prophecies of Isaiah and some writings of Nephi. So I decided to analyze a part of Jacob’s speech to his brethren as he explains why he must address them. Jacob preached unto them saying, “Wherefore, it burdeneth my soul that I should be constrained, because of the strict commandment which I have received from God, to admonish you according to your crimes, to enlarge the wounds of those who are already wounded, instead of consoling and healing their wounds; and those who have not been wounded, instead of feasting upon the pleasing word of God have daggers placed to pierce their souls and wound their delicate minds.” 

         From this we can see the emotion and pain that Jacob feels for the words he is about to unleash upon his audience.  His tone has a melancholy feel as he uses phrases like “burdeneth my soul”, “enlarge the wounds”, and “daggers places to pierce their souls”.  Through his words and phrases, we can feel his disappointment and pain for what he is about to do to his beloved brethren.  Another thing that I thought was interesting was the repetition of the word wound throughout this verse. Jacob uses wound as an adjective, noun and verb which creates different meanings, and the repetition reinforces the imagery of a wound. And through this imagery of wounding and wounds, we realize the seriousness and intensity of what Jacob is going to tell his audience. Using his language, Jacob sets the context of his following discourse, and the absolute gravity of his audience’s situation.

Plain, Dignified, Spiritual

          There have been many men and women throughout history using their words to shape and influence generations. Some of these men and women use their oratory skills to gain personal advantage while others use their skills for the greater good of mankind. In the Mormon culture, we have our own unique view of effective public speaking and communication, which is combined with rhetoric to deliver our sermons and speeches. 

 

         I will look at the sermon delivered by Jeffery R. Holland titled “Of Souls, Symbols, and Sacraments” delivered in 1988, and how it embodies the Mormon Rhetorical Theory and the way he uses rhetoric throughout his talk. The Mormon Rhetorical Theory is summed up in that we believe in communicating and speaking in simple, dignified language that is plain to the audience, and allows the medium of the Spirit to testify and inspire. Elder Holland uses such throughout his talk, for example he says, “The purchase price for our fullness of joy—body and spirit eternally united—is the pure and innocent blood of the Savior of this world” (88:3). This simple, but powerful truth illustrates the high cost for our joy at the expense of our Savior and plays on the emotion of the audience, giving a reminder that we are not our own. Elder Holland, as president of BYU at the time, knew how to effectively reach and address his audience with such a serious topic at hand. 

        Being very plain, but using dignified language, he logically explains the importance of personal purity while complementing this with the emotional consequences of messing with this fundamental doctrine. For example he says, “No murder here. Well, maybe not. But sexual transgression? “He that doeth it destroyeth his own soul.” Sounds near fatal to me” (88:2). Using the scriptural allusion, he drives the point across that sexual transgression brings about fatality. And using the juxtaposition between the terms of sexual transgression and murder, the audience can make a correlation that may not have been apparent at first, that sexual transgression and murder have the same severity as it brings about the same consequences of fatality. Through his use of rhetoric and plain, dignified language, Elder Holland appropriately addresses his audience and delivers an impactful talk.

Poetic Prophecies: The Words of Isaiah

         

I wanted to look at the language that the prophet Isaiah uses and how that affects the form of his prophecies. In my assigned section of 2^nd Nephi Ch. 19-27, I will focus on 2^nd Nephi Ch. 21:1-10. The prophet Isaiah uses a variety of literary devices while he is prophesying. He uses metaphors (2^nd Ne 21:1) and similes (2^nd Ne 21:9) in describing Christ and his role, he uses a lot of antitheses in describing the millennium (2^nd Ne 21:6-8), and the imagery he uses creates a vivid impression on the audience’s mind (2^nd Ne 21:4).

        With these literary devices he employs, he supports the eloquent language and message of his prophecies of Christ. This type of language, use of literary devices, and the form these passages are displayed lead it to be a lot more poetic than its scriptural counterpart.  Reading in this form allowed me to better identify the poetic nature of Isaiah’s prophecies and better understand them. 

       In connection with Eliza’s post about the repetition of “wilt thou” by Nephi, Isaiah also uses repetition using the word shall. This connection shows the theme of repetition that prophets use in their prophecies to reinforce key ideas and key themes. How many other prophets in the Book of Mormon have the same poetic nature as the prophecies of Isaiah? Was the language of Isaiah one of the many reasons why almost all prophets quote his prophecies? And because his words are very poetic and rich in literary devices, is this why his prophecies are some of the hardest to understand and interpret?