<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2372240649996258617</id><updated>2011-07-28T20:18:36.075-07:00</updated><category term='Poetry'/><category term='Religion'/><title type='text'>Crescendo To Midnite</title><subtitle type='html'>A Collection</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crescendotomidnite.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2372240649996258617/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crescendotomidnite.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Tyler</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17365072574572671966</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oZBtrU8e-II/SUevjnNNXrI/AAAAAAAAATQ/0al4E2eQHBk/S220/Nov+27++2008+032crop.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>4</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2372240649996258617.post-8690698829205792545</id><published>2009-01-22T22:10:00.006-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-24T21:13:29.399-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Religion'/><title type='text'>I know St. Peter will call my name</title><content type='html'>I recently read an article about atheists advertising on buses in Britain. Here is a link to the article: &lt;a href="http://in.news.yahoo.com/139/20090109/882/twl-ad-watchdog-called-upon-to-solve-ath.html"&gt;http://in.news.yahoo.com/139/20090109/882/twl-ad-watchdog-called-upon-to-solve-ath.html&lt;/a&gt; . Basically, they posted an ad that said, "There is probably no God. Now stop worrying and enjoy your life." For me the saddest part of this was the implication that the stereotypical person of faith is worried. I think it safe to say that the ad implies that we (the religious) are worried specifically about our status with God. About salvation. Unfortunately, I agree with that perception. Since my faith is LDS, I will only speak about this perceived stereotype among those of the LDS faith. Unfortunately, I would say that among LDS the behavior that inspired this slogan is even more rampant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is sad that people whose Lord said, "My yoke is easy, and my burden is light", should be so weighed down with worry about salvation. This should not be so. What is there to worry about? Righteousness? Why? We know the answer to that. "All have sinned and come short of the glory of God."(Romans 3:23) "For that which I do, I allow not: for what I would, that do I not; for what I hate, that do I."(Romans 7:15) If the question is: Can I be righteous enough to earn salvation? The answer is no. Fact: All of us will sin again, despite our very best efforts not to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After we are baptized, we begin a new life. Paul says ,"We should walk in a newness of life." (Romans 6:4) What does that mean, and how does that keep us from worry? To "walk in a newness of life" means:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;"Let no sin reign in your mortal body, that ye should obey it in the lusts thereof.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Neither yield ye your members as instruments of unrighteousness unto sin: buy yield yourselves unto God, as those that are alive from the dead, and your members as instruments of righteousness unto God." (Romans 6:12,13)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Paul continues in Romans 8:1 speaking of those who are baptized. "There is therefore no condemnation to them which are in Christ Jesus, who walk not after the flesh, but after the spirit." Essentially, we will not be denied salvation even though we continue to sin so long as we also continue to live 'after the spirit'. This is the doctrine of justification. &lt;em&gt;Note: this does not free us of the temporary consequences of our sins. Paul states clearly in Hebrews 11:6 that "Whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth." (see also vs. 11) &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So what is there to worry about? We know that as long as we continue to live by the spirit, or "endure to the end" (2 Nephi 31) we will be saved. The worry might be about doing everything perfect right now. Remember, "it is not requisite that a man should run faster than he has strength." (Mosiah 4: 27) Be diligent in your efforts, but not depressed when you are not as good as you would like. One of the most comforting verse of scripture for me is Romans 5: 8.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;"But God commendeth his love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;As I continue to live by the spirit I can live knowing that my mood, my headache, the traffic, and all of the other little things that help me continue sinning do not put my salvation at risk. I can repent of all of it, and I will be forgiven. I also know that I by putting my life is God's hands I will improve. In the future I will not make the same mistakes I do presently. I do not worry about salvation. It is not something I earn, it is a gift. So to the atheists I say that it is my knowledge of God that allows me to enjoy life and not worry about the next one.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I will conclude this lengthy blog with one of my favorite (lengthy) quotes: &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;"We may, indeed, be sure that perfect chastity--like perfect charity--will not be attained by any merely human efforts. You must ask for God's help. Even when you have done so, it may seem to you for a long time that no help, or less help than you need, is being given. Never mind. After each failure, ask forgiveness, pick yourself up, and try again. Very often what God first helps us towards is not the virtue itself but just this power of always trying again. For however important chastity (or courage, or truthfulness, or any other virtue) may be, this process trains us in habits of the soul which are more important still. It cures our illusions about ourselves and teaches us to depend on God. We learn, on the one hand, that we cannot trust ourselves even in our best moments, and, on the other, that we need not despair even in our worst, for our failures are forgiven. The only fatal thing is to sit down content with anything less than perfection."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;C.S. Lewis. &lt;em&gt;Mere Christianity&lt;/em&gt;, pg 101-2.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2372240649996258617-8690698829205792545?l=crescendotomidnite.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crescendotomidnite.blogspot.com/feeds/8690698829205792545/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crescendotomidnite.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-know-st-peter-will-call-my-name.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2372240649996258617/posts/default/8690698829205792545'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2372240649996258617/posts/default/8690698829205792545'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crescendotomidnite.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-know-st-peter-will-call-my-name.html' title='I know St. Peter will call my name'/><author><name>Tyler</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17365072574572671966</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oZBtrU8e-II/SUevjnNNXrI/AAAAAAAAATQ/0al4E2eQHBk/S220/Nov+27++2008+032crop.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2372240649996258617.post-6918611291311163662</id><published>2009-01-17T20:19:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-18T21:57:48.428-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poetry'/><title type='text'>On the Ground in Kuwait</title><content type='html'>The vast sun eases over the wide horizon&lt;br /&gt;Decorating this pale sea of earth in beautiful color.&lt;br /&gt;The tranquil air is chill and crisp. Silence reigns.&lt;br /&gt;I am far from home in this desert,&lt;br /&gt;Making a journey to war 100’s of miles north.&lt;br /&gt;This ocean of sand pulls and pushes me&lt;br /&gt;Gently, rhythmically.&lt;br /&gt;I am afloat this morning and out of reach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As yet there is no war on this plane&lt;br /&gt;This desert is soothing and beautiful&lt;br /&gt;It slows my racing thoughts and heart&lt;br /&gt;It focuses me on its antiquity&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I breathe deep here as we pause our journey&lt;br /&gt;And I consider my place in the uncertain future&lt;br /&gt;Upon these ancient sands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12 Nov 05&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the most recent version of this one. I have been &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;editing&lt;/span&gt; all of the ones from Iraq and I liked this one. Kuwait was like a dream sequence. Our circadian rhythms were all messed up from flying there and the anticipation was smothering. Then the desert just stretches out in front of you as far as you can see until it blends with the horizon. I felt so small.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2372240649996258617-6918611291311163662?l=crescendotomidnite.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crescendotomidnite.blogspot.com/feeds/6918611291311163662/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crescendotomidnite.blogspot.com/2009/01/on-ground-in-kuwait.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2372240649996258617/posts/default/6918611291311163662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2372240649996258617/posts/default/6918611291311163662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crescendotomidnite.blogspot.com/2009/01/on-ground-in-kuwait.html' title='On the Ground in Kuwait'/><author><name>Tyler</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17365072574572671966</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oZBtrU8e-II/SUevjnNNXrI/AAAAAAAAATQ/0al4E2eQHBk/S220/Nov+27++2008+032crop.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2372240649996258617.post-8703957978713688586</id><published>2009-01-10T07:54:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-10T08:05:07.194-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poetry'/><title type='text'>A Lament for Summer</title><content type='html'>The summer rests now beneath the leaves&lt;br /&gt;Amid the shallow running puddles&lt;br /&gt;The cold is upon us despite our protest&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where are we now that winter has come?&lt;br /&gt;Our summer revelry has melted to echo&lt;br /&gt;And the drear fall left our hearts glazed&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This winter's sad affect writes itself upon us&lt;br /&gt;We are not eager to meet it among the pines&lt;br /&gt;Our life has become narrow, held to heat&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And thus we find ourselves indoors, and out of focus&lt;br /&gt;Deciding whether we are ruled by the temperature&lt;br /&gt;Or simply have nothing better to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Written 25 Oct 04.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was written in the wee hours of the morning as I worked a night shift.  I've found that my thoughts flow better late at night.  Maybe because I am too tired to edit them as they come.  Anyway, this has not been edited at all.  I wanted to call it "Lament because I can't go camping anymore", but that seemed a little long and manipulative to the reader.  I actually love the winter, I've written much more about my love for the snow and the cold.  This poem though is my desire for a couple more weeks of fall.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2372240649996258617-8703957978713688586?l=crescendotomidnite.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crescendotomidnite.blogspot.com/feeds/8703957978713688586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crescendotomidnite.blogspot.com/2009/01/lament-for-summer.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2372240649996258617/posts/default/8703957978713688586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2372240649996258617/posts/default/8703957978713688586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crescendotomidnite.blogspot.com/2009/01/lament-for-summer.html' title='A Lament for Summer'/><author><name>Tyler</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17365072574572671966</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oZBtrU8e-II/SUevjnNNXrI/AAAAAAAAATQ/0al4E2eQHBk/S220/Nov+27++2008+032crop.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2372240649996258617.post-3119171035182029211</id><published>2009-01-06T21:27:00.008-07:00</published><updated>2009-01-07T21:30:25.183-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Poetry'/><title type='text'>Crescendo To Midnite</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;One day at the dinner table my dad described the fireworks on New Year's Eve in Italy as a "crescendo to midnight". The moment I heard that phrase I left the table and wrote it down. At that point it signified to me that the best part of the day was going to bed and dreaming. Since that sort of angsty depression has died in me, now I just enjoy the phrase as a piece of poetry and beauty. It reminds me to end each day well.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is one of my favorite things I've ever written. It captured my feelings perfectly, and I love how the words sound together. I love early morning light.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Now the fates have me,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I slip between daylight&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;and a dream&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Awake to see the&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;gentle eastern light.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;A kiss goodnight - &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I kiss her and stare&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The sheets caress&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;My mind to slumber.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Daylights flutter past.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I am awake again&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;momentarily, in&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;the fading western night.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;She sleeps without&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Imagination&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I sleep perchance to live&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I am congratulated&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Through it all&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;There is nothing worse.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;A chase to sweat, bleed&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;To swim, to live, and squeeze&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Out of life - purity&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;But no one is here&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Her mouth is slightly open&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And I am still me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I live in crescendo&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;to midnite&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The rising...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The rising action of the light&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;is but to fade to blue&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And set&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Written 3 Dec 03.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2372240649996258617-3119171035182029211?l=crescendotomidnite.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://crescendotomidnite.blogspot.com/feeds/3119171035182029211/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://crescendotomidnite.blogspot.com/2009/01/crescendo-to-midnite.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2372240649996258617/posts/default/3119171035182029211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2372240649996258617/posts/default/3119171035182029211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://crescendotomidnite.blogspot.com/2009/01/crescendo-to-midnite.html' title='Crescendo To Midnite'/><author><name>Tyler</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17365072574572671966</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oZBtrU8e-II/SUevjnNNXrI/AAAAAAAAATQ/0al4E2eQHBk/S220/Nov+27++2008+032crop.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
