In the previous parts of this essay, we examined the written scriptures of the LDS (latter-day saints) church, discovering the flaws in them. In this part, we will examine the spoken scriptures of the Mormon church, demonstrating that the Mormon view of Scripture is incompatible with the orthodox Christian view. We will also examine these spoken scriptures to determine their trustworthiness.
[to the f u t u r e]
It still comes as a surprise, how much time we share. Oh, sorry, not you we. We dear-my-friend and I, and don’t you two know each other? His self-described nomadic lifestyle both gave you a relationship and strained it. But I started out about something else you know—time. Specifically the time he makes to wait to talk to be kind. All of it is good and right down to my bones. Even, would you believe, the time he takes to leave me.
Since Apricotpie is a writing website, I thought that I would post the annual Vision Forum Writing Contest on here.
“The Mystery of the Lost Day”
Hey guys! This was an experimental 15 minute assignment where we had to write a fictional story in (duh) fifteen minutes. No pre-write, nothing went into this story, so it really isn't the best quality. Just thought I'd post it. Enjoy! :D
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How can I keep from loving you? I asked myself that question over and over again. I tried so hard to find a way to keep our friendship while keeping my heart locked up. But there you were. You wouldn't stop caring for me. You wouldn’t stop being the match for me. You wouldn’t stop being wonderful. Most of all you wouldn’t stop crawling into my heart even though neither of us tried. You were so kind and so precious. I opened my heart to let you in because I couldn’t figure out how to keep it closed.
(A Sequel to "A Few Days in My House after Hurricane "Irene")
my suitcase was in my hand the day I left and I was in such a hurry that my feet fell over themselves twice and I closed my eyes and imagined you were with me even though you were what I was running from
isn't it strange I thought on the plane how often we hold onto long-gone, loveless things and fill the spaces with stiff conversations and chaste embraces and listen to lame excuses even if they're without a shred of truth
This World
come flood or fire,
earthquake, avalanche or tornado,
civilization moves on
some may pause
in silent respect
but our mantra remains:
‘go over, under, around,
go through.
all must move, or be moved.
our plans, wishes, ideas
must
go though.’
busy, busy
work and play
busy, busy
find this day
busy, busy
this world moves on.
grey sky
grey sky
gold fields
stark, lonely outlines
of trees huddled for warmth
silent stillness
joyful calls
tearful laments
evening falls
daybreak comes
shrill beep
busy hum
vehicles creep
sun is high
children's sighs
wrappers rustle
time tells lies
day begins to end
noise gently subsides
homeward the weary masses go
peace again abides
evening gives a much needed rest
time again will stand the test
silent stillness
evening falls
Hidden in the shadows
Of a forest
Beneath the undergrowth
Is a wild path
Whispers of the trees
Guide the way
Songs of the Birds
Just ahead, but never in sight
Shaped by your thoughts
Never still, but moving
Follow the path of your dreams