Manti Temple tools

 https://youtu.be/hcq4ZzmcEEg?si=awnI0RQ2hgFHju6O

 

Pictures of the Manti Temple during the open house 2024

 Click here.

Why LDS Polygamy and Joseph Smith Historian Don Bradley Left and Came Back to the LDS Church

 This is a fascinating video.

Here's part two.

Our trip to Japan

 Here are pictures and videos.

How Should Christians Love the LGBTQ Community?

 Great video reply

Iosepa Display at Pioneer Village in Lagoon

Entering Pioneer Village in the amusement park of Lagoon, located in Farmington, Utah, one can see a small building immediately to the left, nestled up against the water slide area. Inside that building is a collection of tokens, currency, and other artifacts from Utah’s history. 

In the far left corner is a display case entitled, “Iosepa.”

A description inside the case reads:

 

A Single Trace of Iosepa

Amidst the windblown scrub of Utah's Skull Valley, 20 miles south of the Great Salt Lake, lies a cemetery, a few foundations, and a solitary fire hydrant which stands as a silent sentinel testifying to a long-forgotten time. These are the only remnants of a once-proud society of lesser-known Mormon pioneers of the Hawaiian Kanaka tribe who left the islands in 1889 to be nearer to the spiritual homeland and temple of the Latter-day Saint faithful in Salt Lake City. With church assistance in the form of agricultural expertise, financial management, and property acquisition, the Hawaiian settlers were relocated to the only block of land which remained unencumbered close to the city and large enough to meet the needs of a subsistence agricultural economy. Unfortunately, it still remained approximately two days' ride from Salt Lake City.

The religious faith sustaining the settlers must have rivaled any found in their more-famous Latter-day Saint brethren in Salt Lake City as the new inhabitants of the fledgling town of losepa had recently left the relative paradise of Hawaii. They were greeted in Utah by life-threatening elements and physical hardships. A new work ethic was needed to survive and later thrive in elements which varied from searing and unending heat in summer to semi-Arctic winters which must have seemed interminable. The settlers built their lives around what they could raise in crops and livestock from the alkali flats and cedar plateaus surrounding the town.

The LDS Church regulated the financial affairs of the town of losepa, so named in honor of the prophet Joseph F. Smith. They incorporated the losepa Agricultural and Stock Company, headquartered in a small general store in the middle of the 1280-acre ranch. In order to facilitate commerce, a small run of script notes bearing denominations of 5 cents, 10 cents, 25 cents, 50 cents and one dollar were produced by a Salt Lake City printing company. This script was used to pay colonists for their work and was subsequently traded by them to pay for goods and services at the store. In the rare occurrence that a settler needed to shop in Salt Lake City, the store would exchange cash for the script in the economy.

The losepa 50-cent note is the sole survivor, a single traveling trace of losepa and the commerce of the desolate spot. Signed by John T. Caine, treasurer of the cooperative and past editor of the Salt Lake Herald and Henry P. Richards, its president, the note exhibits characteristic wear of late 19th century paper, yet it is in surprisingly good condition when one considers the rigors it has been subjected to. Caine had served an LDS church mission to Hawaii in 1855 and after his tenure in losepa went on to be elected as a United States Representative while Richards played a major role in bringing Polynesian converts and their culture to the Salt Lake Valley.

losepa grew in spite of many trials, including the well-publicized cases of Ieprosy which struck three of the colonists in 1893. In order to contain the potential spread of the volatile disease, a house of isolation was built on the outskirts of town. To attract attention for the delivery of food and water, a flag was run up a pole as a signal. The town reached a maximum population of 228 late in the 19th century. It became an amalgamation of Polynesian and western cultures, with poi, island delicacies, and Latter-day Saint influences routinely mixing at public festivals. However, the continued hard lifestyle began to take its toll as the growth in the cemetery began to outstrip growth in the town. Many second-generation Hawaiians simply decided to leave losepa for more lucrative careers outside of the community. The town's death knell sounded when the construction of a new Latter-day Saint temple was announced in Hawaii. At first, a few settlers left to help in the building of the temple but a wholesale exodus followed in 1916-17. The motivation for living in the suffering climate of Utah was removed as members of the faith could now practice their religion fully in their own homeland, where it required substantially less consistent effort just to remain alive. The demise of the town occurred just four years after losepa was honored as the "Most Progressive Town in Utah" and it was finally taken over by the Deseret Livestock Company in 1917.

Visitors to the site in current times are no doubt greeted by the same skyline and landscape that threatened the dedicated and hardy Hawaiians in 1889. Little has changed. A small cemetery, some stone and shards of glass remain, along with a unique piece of paper with a quaint motto, redeemable for "an assortment of farm products at retail prices."

The losepa script note, a solitary specimen of a period of dynamic Utah history, continues today as the only artifact extant not subject to the wind, stinging sand, and drying sun of the Skull Valley area. In time, this small symbol may be all that exists to remind future historians of a little known town, fading into oblivion, that once was losepa.

by Bob Campbell

Salt Lake City, Utah

2023 Portugal trip with daughters

 We went on a trip to Portugal this summer.

If you have felt the influence of the Holy Ghost today....

"If you have felt the influence of the Holy Ghost today, you may take it as evidence that the Atonement is working in your life."

- Henry B. Eyring, "Gifts of the Spirit for Hard Times," June 2007 

It took me a week to fix our washing machine, but I learned a lot

        Perhaps the most impactful thing to happen to me this past week was an ongoing ordeal. What I am about to describe took place over several days, from Monday through Thursday, each day after I got home from work.

Our washing machine stopped working in the middle of a cycle. When this happens, the machine’s door automatically locks.

This has happened several times in the past 15 years we have owned this washing machine, and my go-to solution has always worked: I unplug the machine, raise the front part of it onto some blocks of wood, remove the front lower panel, reach up into the inner workings to pull a release cord that unlocks the door, slowly drain all the water from the drum and the pipes with small buckets, carefully remove the soaking wet clothes, clean out the catch in the filter, then put everything back together. If done efficiently, I can do this all in around 45 minutes. 

So I did this and reran a wash cycle with the clothes. It didn’t solve the problem. The machine stopped and the door locked again. 

I thought that I had not cleaned the filter enough, so did the whole process again (unplug the machine, put it on blocks of wood, remove the panel, pull the cord, drain the water, remove the wet clothes, etc.). I cleaned the filter area some more, and tried to run another cycle. 

The machine again stopped in mid cycle, and the door locked. I did the whole process again to drain the water.

I started checking the internet for guidance, watching how-to videos and reading websites. I learned that the drain pipe might be clogged, and that I should clean it out with hot water. 

The drain pipe runs from the bottom front area of the machine, clear to the upper back area. To remove the pipe, I first unhooked it from the drain pump, a nearby interior clamp, and the upper rear exterior opening. 

I removed the lid of the washing machine so that I could get my hands inside to disconnect the pipe from two remaining interior clamps, one of which was in the lower back part of the machine in a narrow spot and secured with a clamp different from the others. I scraped up my right arm while reaching down there numerous times, finally freeing the pipe from that clamp, and removed it. 

I cleaned the drain pipe thoroughly with plenty of hot water. Lots of gooey gunk came out, which led me to believe that I had identified the source of the problem, and that now the water would flow freely. I reattached the drain pipe throughout the machine and ran a load of laundry again. 

Again the machine stopped and the door locked. I drained the water again.

I was getting deeply frustrated. 

I went back to the internet and on-line videos. I concluded that my next step was to remove and clean out the accordion-like rubber tube that connects the drum (where the clothes are washed) to the drain pump. 

I easily removed the tube from the drain pump and the other end from the drum, and cleaned the pump the best I could. I reattached the tube to the pump, securing it with the metal, ring-shaped hose clamp.

Reattaching the other end of the tube to the wider opening under the drum was an entirely different story. The area to work was small. I could scarcely get a hand in there to reattach it. Also my pliers did not open wide enough to grasp and widen the hose clamp. Time after time they kept slipping off. 

By this time it was Wednesday. Our dirty clothes heaps were mounting. To buy time, Karin hand-washed some of our clothing in the tub. We talked about scrapping the machine altogether and buying a new one, but that would cost hundreds of dollars.

Sitting there frazzled in front of a semi-dismantled, non-working washing machine, I asked Heavenly Father what to do. I had been praying along the way, but I was now at my wits’ end. 

The words, “Don’t worry about it,” entered my mind and heart. I wasn’t fully sure if that meant not to worry about it and give up, or not to worry about it and just keep trying to fix the washer. I decided that I would just keep trying.

I resumed trying to get the hose clamp around the outside edge of the rubber connector so that I could reattach it to the drum. 

An idea came: remove the pump. I did this, and realized that I now had significantly more space to get my hands in there to reattach the tube to the drum.

Another idea came: get a bar clamp from the garage. A bar clamp (looks like a measuring caliper ruler) is used for holding wood together after it has been glued. I got the bar clamp and tightened it on the wings of the circular hose clamp. The wings opened enough for me to get the clamp around the tube and reattach it to the drum without much effort. That was an answer to prayer. 

I reattached and reassembled everything and tried running the machine again.

The machine stopped and the door locked. I drained the water again.

I read some more online and watched more videos. It appeared that the last potential cause of the problem was the drain pump itself. We ordered a pump online, thinking that if this didn’t work we would get rid of the machine and buy a new one.

The pump arrived Thursday. I attached it, put everything back together, and ran another wash cycle. 

It worked! (Or so I thought.)

The machine started leaking water. By this time I was done with being frustrated. I saw that the accordion tube from the drum to the pump had slid off on the pump’s end. After a few more minutes, I was able to reattach it and put everything back together.

We ran numerous loads after that. The washing machine has been working ever since. 

I spent a lot of hours and effort to fix our washing machine this past week, and I learned a lot from this experience. Sometimes a job takes longer than you anticipate. Sometimes the first solutions don’t work. It helps to be patient and flexible, and to study things. Getting frustrated is a waste of time and a distraction. Prayer leads to personal revelation. The right tool saves a lot of hassle and time. And it feels so good to persevere at something and finally succeed!

    I appreciate and understand our washing machine a lot more now. And I learned a lot in the process.

Fantastic Talk on Personal Revelation

Richard G. Scott gave a talk entitled, "How to Obtain Revelation and Inspiration for Your Personal Life." It is very enlightening and clear.

Resistance

“If we prepare for resistance, we create more resistance.”

John Daker Eulogy Tribute by Jonathan Aigner

Jon Graham Daker, son, brother, faithful Christian, and accidental internet star, reportedly passed away yesterday, February 20, 2022, in Peoria, Illinois. Born in 1939, he was 82 years old. 

For most of you, he needs no introduction. If you’re new to the internet, let me tell you how the world came to know Jon Daker. 

Peoria resident Reva Singley Cooper Unsicker taught voice, piano, and organ lessons for some six decades until her death in 1995 at the age of 80. For most of those years, her studio recitals were held in the sanctuary of the First United Methodist Church in Peoria where she attended. 

Here is Reva in the 1970s with her second husband. 

 

I have never found out how this happened, but at some point in the 80s she was offered the chance to broadcast her recitals on local public access TV station. Reva jumped at the chance, which according to one source, elicited a collective sigh of relief among the church staff, as Reva was, shall we say, a bit particular about these recitals. 

Nobody was ever supposed to see them again, but God in His mercy had other ideas. While a few brief clips from others remain, much of one 1990 recital is preserved on YouTube. 

On Easter Sunday 2009, my life changed completely when my friend Todd shared the Jon Daker video on Facebook. (He is usually credited as “John,” but there was no “h” in his first name, perhaps to distinguish him from his paternal grandfather, John Graham Daker.) 

I’ve laughed, cried, and cringed through many, many viewings since that wonderful, wonderful day. I’ve since introduced Mr. Daker to everyone I love, or even tolerate. It is, in my opinion, the greatest video in the history of the world. The Jon Daker video is enough to justify the existence of the internet. Everything about it is classic. Reva’s nearly incoherant introduction, her expeditious accompanying, Jon’s pleasant voice and his ability to maintain his composure, and the brilliant mashup of the Wesley hymn (very popular nowadays) “Christ the Lord Is Risen Today” with “That’s Amore.” If you haven’t seen it before, here it is. Stay tuned through the brief clip of Michelle Caseyaneye at the beginning. 

There were others in the lineup, George Stanton, Margie Hicks, Bob Spencer, Pearl Gross, and their videos are internet gold in their own right. But Jon was the star that day, and forevermore, world without end, amen. 

Years ago, I wrote a post about the beauty of the church choir. I included the Daker video in one of my points as an example of the good folks who make up these ensembles. My point was basically that Mr. Daker and any of his friends would be welcome in my choir any day of the week. I was shocked to receive a comment from one of the pastors at the First United Methodist Church in Peoria, Illinois, which Jon, Reva, and many of the others attended. 

While the pastor used his best manners, he essentially told me that he was sick and tired of people like me sharing this video in an attempt to humiliate and embarrass Jon, and that my sharing the video in my post was in bad taste. I responded with my earnest disagreement. 

You see, in a world plagued by sin and evil, in which churches increasingly have no room for church musicians without commercial appeal, Jon Daker represents hope, joy, and faith. Here is a regular guy who has managed to lift the spirits of millions thanks to his love of singing and a willingness to crash and burn with dignity. 

And while there were some that made fun of him, a cult following of fans emerged, including some Peoria locals who befriended him and paid him visits in the publicly-funded assisted living home where he lived after his parents and siblings passed away. One in particular, a woman named Heather, stayed with him and advocated for him until the end. Not only did Heather love and care for this man with whom she shared no relation, but through social media she allowed those of us who already loved the legend of John Daker to get a glimpse at the real Jon Daker. And the stories that emerged from these visits painted a picture of a kind, gentle man who loved Jesus and faithfully served his church. 

One source who grew up at FUMC (This person and her husband were actually married by the one and only Rev. Bill Jones!) remembered sitting two pews in front of the Dakers, Jon, father Burton, mother Adeline, and sister Penny. They were by all accounts lovely, salt-of-the-earth people who enjoyed singing REALLY loud. 

 

 

Jon was preceded in death by all of them, as well as an older brother, Burton K. Daker. In addition to other family and friends, he is survived by a countless number of adoring fans. 

At this moment, Jon has joined the saints singing before the throne of God, where the words no longer evade his lips, and the accompaniment no longer leaves him behind. He has fully experienced the scene that Charles Wesley captured in another one of his stanzas: 

Soar we now where Christ has led, Alleluia! 

Following our exalted Head, Alleluia! 

Made like him, like him we rise, Alleluia! 

Ours the cross, the grave, the skies, Alleluia! 

May he rest in peace, and may his memory outlast the internet. 

Remember thy servant, O Lord, according to the favour which thou bearest unto thy people, and grant that, increasing in knowledge and love of thee, Jon may go from strength to strength, in the life of perfect service, in thy heavenly kingdom; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Ghost, ever, one God, world without end. Amen.

TSAB is in this video

Funeral for David van Soelen

Trip to Portugal 2023 - Tim and Karin

 Here are the pictures from out trip.

The girl who got shoved into a locker

A group of ninth grade boys had been loitering by a certain bank of lockers in between classes all year long. On numerous occasions, I directed them to move elsewhere. 

Some time later, a ninth grade girl who is new to our school went to her locker along that bank and opened her locker. It was a lower locker, so she was kneeling down. The boys -- none of whom knew her -- were congregating around as they always do. 

One of them, likely on a dare, jumped over her. Either his leg or foot hit her in the back, propelling her face hard into the open locker. The impact bruised her upper cheekbone and left her ear purple. Hurt and embarrassed, she got up and walked away.

When the administration found out, we took action. 

I called the girl's mother to assure her that we were aware of the situation, had administered consequences, and that I could give her the contact info of our school resource officer if she wished to pursue things further. 

I braced myself for her reply. So many times throughout my career parents in this situation often go berserk, accusing the school of utter incompetence, demanding to speak with my supervisor, wanting to confront the parents of the other student, speaking about getting a lawyer, and calling the news. But this mother was different.

“I don't think that will be necessary,” she said. “We're not that kind of family.” And then she paused. “We just want our daughter safe.”

She continued: “This event has actually been a blessing for our daughter. When word got out that she was the girl who had been pushed into the locker, several students reached out to her and befriended her. Before this incident, she only had acquaintances at this school. Now she has friends. It has been a blessing.”

I was amazed at the mother's response. I was reminded once again about the power of forgiveness.

On God in Society

Our society needs to return to a greater belief in and reliance on God.

Most of us (81%, or more than 4 out of every 5) believe in God.

Where is God in society?

We hardly hear mention of Him in public these days, unless it’s in a Hollywood movie, where His name and existence are often defamed or questioned.

We need to make publicly acknowledging God a normal thing again.

Remember that the American Nation’s motto is “In God we trust.” We are reminded of this on every coin! We acknowledge God’s existence, and we declare that we trust Him.

Remember that our Pledge of Allegiance affirms that we are one nation under God.

Remember these lines from great American music:

“God bless America”

“God shed his grace on thee”

Remember from our Declaration of Independence starts with reverential acknowledgement of God:

“We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.”

I moved that we speak of God, acknowledge God, pray to God, give thanks to God, trust God, depend on God, obey God, and fear God.

As we look to God during hard times, when we need help, or when we feel anxiety, despair, or suicidal feelings, God will help us!

God is the missing part of our equation. We need God.

And He will bless and prosper us.

The Human Mind Is Not Meant to Be Awake After Midnight

 Interesting article.

Interesting perspective on religion, childhood, and trauma

 

Perspective: Don’t believe the headlines. Few people suffer trauma from religion in childhood

Reply to BYU Magazine article "Why Women Don't Speak"

A woman I know sent the following letter to the BYU Magazine editors on June 14, 2020:

 

I found the recent article Why Women Don’t Speak distasteful. It is unfair to men and laced with condescending inferences about women.  It sheds a very negative light on women in circles where they find themselves outnumbered.  Women are portrayed as helpless whiners who pout and throw tantrums to be heard.  Men are characterized as insensitive and deaf, hoping women will be quiet and not make any demands.

I don’t deny that there are cases in which women are not heard in academic, religious and political circles. However, I do not believe this problem is as pervasive as the article implies.  I have been blessed that my experiences as a woman in male-dominated arenas does not come close to the way you have described it.

I have been in multiple Church auxiliary leadership positions for over 30 years.  I graduated from BYU where most of my professors were men.  I served a full-time proselyting mission where there were 30 sisters and 120 elders.  I divorced a man with long-term substance abuse.  I have been a full-time single working mother while simultaneously obtaining my Master’s degree.  I worked for more than 16 years in the Church’s Employment and Welfare department.  I have been a member in many Church councils and leadership meetings.  I have been a participant in pilots, seminars, conferences, workshops, and a host of work organizations where I was one of only a few females among men.  I can’t recall a time when I was marginalized, interrupted or brushed off in those settings.  Men have not treated me that way.  In Church, school, and work, men have sincerely gone out of their way to include and encourage my participation.  They have been respectful and kind and have given me more than my share of opportunities to participate and add value to the common cause.   

 

The article paints a picture of a disgruntled woman who is put-off and put-out when she believes men aren’t listening to or endorsing her ideas. It continues to promote the stale and antiquated argument that after all these decades women are still suppressed, sidelined, and silenced. “The problem, in part, could be you,” says Jessica R. Preece.  That is correct!  Women have placed the responsibility of speaking up on men, but women should take responsibility and not blame men for their fear or lack of speaking. They seem to blame men for not hearing them as the reason why women don’t have a voice at the table.  Nowhere in the article was the word responsibility used. Women have a responsibility to speak up and not passively sit waiting for men to “Protect—even solicit—the speech of women in the room.” Men may fear women saying we do not want “artificial….politeness.” Women want men to solicit their input, but not come across as solicitous. 

How might a man respond to this article?  How does he feel?  Men are compelled to be aware of and sensitive to how women feel, but the same consideration is not given to them.  Women interrupt incessantly--often not even hearing them.  On dozens of occasions I have heard women say, “Men just don’t get it.”  Women can get away with rude statements like that, but if a man said “Women just don’t get it” he would be called out as sexist and likely removed from the table and accused of harassment as well.

I do not at all doubt that some women have been marginalized and mistreated in Church settings—just as some men have been marginalized and mistreated.  That is a shame, but the greater shame is in the woman who passes the burden of responsibility and inclusion to men.

 

The Revelation Of The Pyramids (Documentary)

Beatles records from Donna

Today I received two Beatles records from a seller on eBay. I wanted these specific records because they came with a great story: the lady selling them was their original owner. I asked her if she would tell me their story. This is what she wrote on a card and included with the records:

I remember being in the 6th grade and only 11 years old when the Beatles first made their appearance in America.

The first time I ever saw them was on The Ed Sullivan Show. The date was February 9, 1964. Everyone I knew watched that show! It was just the most exciting thing to ever happen!

We had never seen hair cuts like that or anyone dress the way they did. Their music was so different and they were so exotic! Paul was my favorite...

My friends and I all listened to their songs on the radio. My parents gave me both these albums for Christmas. As you can see, they were well loved and used.

When I got a little older, my best friend and I would take the bus downtown on Saturdays to go look at all the records at Canterbury Records in Pasadena, California. It was located at 805 E. Colorado Blvd. It is still there to this day and is the oldest surviving record store in the L.A. area. It opened in 1956.

We would save our babysitting money and buy a single record when we could!

It is my pleasure to now pass these on to you!

Most sincerely,

Donna

Cinderella play - Paradigm High School 2021

 Here are pictures and excerpts from the play.