The Unknown Soldier

In the cemetery at Arlington, stands a monument. It houses no body, but the souls represented there make it a sacred place. Around the clock, soldiers continually guard it. The ceremonial respect given at this monument makes it hard for any emotion, other than reverence, to dwell there. That tomb is the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier.
The Unknown Soldier is the man who served so selflessly, that he completely lost his identity along with his life, and gave himself for something bigger. He gave himself for freedom. Grateful, we are, to the many people represented by the crosses, stars of David, and other grave markers in that cemetery. Grateful, we are, to have someone to honor. But, what of the Unknown Solider? Who do we honor for His sake?
Because he lost his name in the cause for which he fought, we have only to turn to God, the one whose cause this is. We can only look to the creator of the cause, and to the giver of that man.
In Luke 9:24, the Lord teaches that, “…whosoever will save his life shall lose it: but whosoever will lose his life for my sake, the same shall save it.”
But, what of his identity? Perhaps they, more than anyone, fulfilled the charge to “take upon them the name of (the) Son” (Moroni 4:3). In their sacrifice, they ensured that no other name could be known, except that of Jesus Christ.
The eternal flame of freedom which the Unknown Soldier kept burning, is that light which “so shine(s) before men, that (we) may see (his) good works, and glorify (our) Father which is in heaven” (Matt 5:16).
Their sacrifice should serve as a reminder to us of the greater fight for freedom in which we are still engaged. We have great reverence and respect for that man who fought for our nation’s freedom, but what of the man who fought for everyone’s freedom. The one who gave his life that we all might live free—won.
On the other side of the world stands another tomb, nestled in a garden, and given even more respect. The One who lay there, is the known Soldier who gives the Unknown Soldier a name. He is the one who gives us all names. May we so sacrifice our names, that people may see us, and having no where else to turn, “glorify (our) Father which is in heaven” (Matt 5:16).

"Yonder Slip of a Boy"

A quote on the "quotes of the day" widgets I have on this blog caught my attention and it got me thinking.
You've probably heard it or read it before.

Emerson said, "All that Shakespeare says of the king, yonder slip of a boy that reads in the corner feels to be true of himself."

In what light do we view ourselves?
Yesterday I was reading the Book of Mormon in Alma 48, where it gives a rather glittery description of Captain Moroni. Yet, as I read, I saw nothing in the description that couldn't be true of the person you passed in public yesterday. Does boy, who helped his sister after she fell off her bike, feel that the description of Captain Moroni is true of himself?
Do you feel it true of yourself?
I've been in a couple church meetings in the last mont in which we were discussing Nephi, Laman and Lemuel. Both times, the comment was made that we are really a lot more like Laman and Lemuel than like Nephi, but we like to compare ourselves more to Nephi because he was such a good example. Is that right? How should we view ourselves? It seems cynical to compare yourself to Laman and Lemuel, but on the other hand, we don't want to have a misleading perception of ourselves if we really aren't like Nephi.
We really are like Nephi.
We should view ourselves like an optimistic CEO would view his company. There is nothing more valuable in business or in spiritual progression than having a correct idea of the state of the business or individual. In business, a CEO ought to have a realistic view of the problems, predicaments and weaknesses of the business; yet, he ought to believe in the business enough to trust that it will overcome those things, and work to make it reach its potential.
Parents sometimes have distorted views of their children. They sometimes find it hard to accept that their children have a problem. That can be a problem. But, almost all parents have glittering, yet realistic, opinions of their children. They know that they are good. They know their potential and often see what they need to do to reach it. That's how it should be. What gives parents that knowledge? Is it that they know them so well? Or, could it be that it is because they too were once that "yonder slip of a boy."

Code Talkers

During World War II, the United States used Navajos and other Native Americans to send and receive secret messages because almost no one else could tell what they were saying. They were called Code Talkers.
Interestingly, the rest of us try to be code talkers, but our codes are often so easy to decipher that we might as well just not talk in code. In his book, "The Brothers Karamazov" Fyoder Dostoyevsky makes the comment, "As a general rule, people...are much more naive and simple-hearted than they suppose. And we ourselves are, too."

The following are some different types and instances of code talking that I have observed which illustrate that, truly, we're not as clever as we think we are. These are not in any particular order.
First, there's the Sarcasm Code. The sarcasm code is when people say something sarcastically only to hide the sincerity of the statement. Prime example: when I say, "I'm huge," I say it sarcastically so as to hide the sincerity and the obvious truth of that statement.
Another form of code is the Vagueness Code. The vagueness code is best illustrated when one person, who is talking to someone of the opposite sex, with whom they might like to go out with, say they have "something" on Friday night, instead of just saying that they have a date. It's interesting to note that people try to use this code in one of two ways. They either truly don't want the other person to know, or else they do want the other person to know, so they purposely talk vaguely in order to spark curiosity, or just to be coy about it. What's the point?
One of my favorite codes is something we'll call, "Changing the Frame." Changing the frame is when you try to say something, but you frame it in a way that attempts to hide the underlying meaning or motive. Example: I had one friend who was interested in a girl, and another friend who was interested in another girl. The two girls were friends. One friend came up to the other and said, "Hey, I know how you can get in with girl 1. You could spark up a conversation by asking her what girl 2 thinks about me." Obviously he was trying frame the message so that the point of the statement would have been the other friend's self-interests. He failed. It is very clear why he was saying that, and it was not for the other friend. The musician Kalai demonstrated in a concert that he doesn't care to use this code. He said(paraphrased), "You know, a lot of people, when they're breaking up with someone say, 'It's not you it's me.' When I went to break up with a girlfriend, I said, 'Hey, I found someone that I like more than you, and I'm going to go be with her.'" That's maybe a little harsh, but it illustrates the difference.
Finally, we'll go with a code we'll call "The Navigator." The navigator is when people try to turn the converasation towards or away from a certain point. People try this all the time, but it's super entertaining when they fail or make it too obvious. In it's worst form, this code can be blantantly changing a topic of conversation. It can also take the form of asking questions that you didn't realize would come right back to you, and that you didn't want to answer, or giving questions and comments that you know will lead to other questions and comments.
Everyone that reads this knows what I'm talking about and they're probably guilty of it. Maybe we can all realize that we're not really code talkers and leave that to the Native Americans. Again, in echo of Dostoyevsky, You are much more naive and simple-hearted that you suppose.

Ups and Downs of Love

I found out a few years after high school had ended, that a good friend of mine had me in her high school cell phone as "Grandpa Moon." I have over the years been compared to an old man; sometimes having earned it consciously and sometimes without having any idea where it came from. I don't mind it. I guess there is some old man in me already. Perhaps that's why I enjoyed the new Disney movie "Up" so much. It's about an old man.

I've already been laughed at for saying this, but I thought the love story in that movie was the best love story I have ever seen in a movie. It's at least in the top three. I had a mission companion who always used to sing the line, "the greatest adventure is what lies ahead." That is basically the theme of the movie. So, the moral of the story is that love is an adventure, and there's always some ahead. The old man takes his home up, and from the experience finds love.
Movie on from my movie review, I had another experience with love last weekend, only it was down instead of up. No, i didn't break up with someone, it really had to do with falling.
On Saturday, we were working outside the house, and my Dad needed some help felling a tree. So I went and pulled while he cut, since it was right by the house. The tree fell, and all was great, until we noticed the baby bird laying on the ground as if it were dead in the midst of the branches, and the nest from which it fell a foot or so away. At first I thought, "Oh, that's unfortunate." But then we saw that it was breathing. So I bent down and, with my gloves on, cradled it in my hands and put it back in the nest. When I picked it up, it instantly opened its mouth wide for a worm, and I my heart just melted.
I'm guessing it's what happens when a typical girl sees a baby, and they forget everything and gush over the baby, only I wasn't really gushing, and I didn't really forget anything, but my heart really melted. We nestled the nest into the tree that was right next to where the fallen one had stood and hoped that everything would be alright. Everything was alright until an hour or two later when we saw a grown robin on the porch railing with a worm in its mouth and obviously flustered because it couldn't find its nest and baby. Then my heart melted again, and I felt like a big nincompoop. So I ran and got the gloves again, and moved the nest onto the porch railing. Obviously the bird flew away because I'm a scary nincompoop person, and it just happened to fly right into the tree where I had put it. So after a two placements of trying to help, we put the nest back in the tree and hoped that the mom would find the baby. I don't know what happened. I didn't see the mom again, but I can't tell if she found the baby or not. I ripped it's home down. But, maybe the mom found the baby and they realized how much they meant to each other, and they lived happily ever after.
Whether your house gets ripped down, or floats up, "love will find a way" (Blessed Union of Souls).