The Lord's Children

Here is another sample. Again, this is one that was taken out of the book before publication, so it isn't actually a part of the book. But it's a good example of what to expect.

Our children are not our own—they are the Lord’s.

I have said, Ye are gods; and all of you are children of the most High. (Psalms 82:6)

Molech was one of the false gods worshipped by Israel’s neighbors, often by making a child “pass through the fire,” a rite which the Lord specifically warned against (Deuteronomy 18:10). Worship of Molech among the children of Israel was present at least in the days of Solomon (1 Kings 11:7) until the reign of Josiah (2 Kings 23:10). Jeremiah reminded the Israelites that worship of Molech by the perverse ceremony of passing through fire was forbidden (Jeremiah 7:31). His fellow-prophet, Ezekiel, also condemned it. But Ezekiel’s passage adds something that makes it more meaningful. In all other passages condemning Molech worship, God warned the people not to involve their children in the rite. But through His prophet Ezekiel, He said, “thou hast slain my children and delivered them to cause them to pass through the fire” (Ezekiel 16:21, emphasis added). The Lord reminded the Israelites that the children really weren’t theirs—they were His. Elder H. Bryan Richards explained, “We are stewards of those sons [and daughters] held in reserve for this day. The Lord has entrusted them to us, and we will be held accountable for them” (H. Bryan Richards, “As For Me and My House, We Will Serve the Lord,” Ensign [Nov. 1998], 43).

Eternity - Poem

Eternity

There they are—
The pages filled in earthly books
About great men of old,
Those who fought in battles large,
Or gave grand speeches bold—
Slowly turning,
Simply turning:
Life’s great stories told.

But I wonder—
What’s off in a far eternity,
The future without end,
When all is said and done and been,
No other acts to lend?
Who can say it?
Who can know it?
Nothing more to mend.

Isn’t there more?
The pages flash before my eyes
Of some infinity—
Children of a heavenly Being
In plain felicity:
“Thank you so much;
I owe you so much;
Thanks for helping me.”

So it’s true then—
The simple things we do each day,
Amid the tears and strife,
To help and build, assist all else,
The music of the fife.
So important,
Simply meaning
The purpose of our life.