Author Archives: Colby Alexander

The Garden

06 Monday Apr 2015

Posted by in Poems, Resurrection

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Have you ever wondered what it must have been like to live during the time of Christ, and to have actually witnessed those important events that took place to change the world?

Imagine what it must have been like to witness the excruciating final hours of his mortal life. We would have watched as he was beaten, scourged with 39 lashes from a whip embedded with rocks and sharpened bone designed to tear and rip apart the flesh as it pierced His back.

We would have witnessed the Man we saw heal the sick, raise the dead, give sight to the blind, and do nothing but show absolute love to everyone around him, collapse under the weight of the very cross from which he would hang.

Imagine the sense of utter unfairness that we would have felt, as He was subjected to an illegal court and sentenced by the very ones who should have been preaching His gospel.

Imagine the despair we would have felt when the man we came to believe as the Son of the Almighty God, allowed himself to be mocked, and nailed to a cross, and left to suffer for hours hanging there, as evil, self-righteous men laughed at him.

Imagine the anger, confusion, dismay, and helplessness that we would have felt. We would have pleaded with Him to lift His hand, and stop the injustice! We would have wondered why, why, would he allow those evil men to win?

We would have felt just as He did, that we were abandoned, and forsaken by the very God of whom He testified. How could such an injustice be allowed to occur to His own Son?

How would we have felt when we could see, through those men, the devil himself claiming victory over the God of all creation?

imagine what it would have felt like seeing the only hope for mankind hanging lifeless on the cross, seemingly defeated by flawed, mortal men. How trying on the faith of His followers must it have been?

Imagine seeing the one who you had gained a testimony of, bloodied and bruised beyond recognition. The eyes that had emitted pure Godly love to you personally, now swollen shut and lifeless.

Imagine how difficult it would have been to maintain your faith through that day, let alone for the days and years to come.

There could be no darker feeling of hopelessness and total despair. He was laid in a borrowed tomb, and forgotten by many. Even His apostles went back to their former lives.

Until the third day.

Imagine that the storms and tumult have ended. The sun returns, and quiet has been restored. Imagine being in that secluded humble garden where, just as He did when He was born to the earth, He returned with humility and power.

Imagine the hopelessness being instantly replaced with hope, the despair replaced with absolute joy!

This was the third day, the resurrection. He had taken up again His body and was glorified.

This is exactly why He is so integral in our life. It’s through him that all the sorrow is replaced with hope. Through him, death is not the end. Through him happiness can be eternal. This is why we need Him- So this contrast of dark and light can take place within ourselves.

This is the message of the resurrection, that darkest night of sorrow and dispair can lead to brightest happiness and hope.

The Garden

The beaming sunlight of the day,
spilled over mountain, through the haze,
and bounced upon the flowers’ bloom
to warm the rocks of Jesus’ Tomb

The peaceful morning’s quiet light,
had ended restless, violent nights,
When earthquakes came, with lightning’s fire,
As nature’s God unleashed His ire,

Now heaven’s hand would end the night,
From garden, now, would spring its light,
The Roman guards had run away,
When Angel hands their strength displayed

Removing stone that tomb had sealed,
Unveiling power once concealed,
The garden’s peace, now bathed in light,
rejoiced with Heaven at the sight!

Of Risen Lord! In perfect form!
Resurrected from the storm,
of death and sorrow’s loneliness,
With Peace, and Hope, and Righteousness!

The Son of God, The Prince of Peace,
To whom all bow on bended knee,
God’s brightest light, and Eldest Son,
had darkest night and tomb o’ercome,

That all, through him, may live again,
and shed the shackles placed by sin,
To once again, with tear-streamed face,
Enjoy our Father’s warm embrace.

The Mirage of Stuff

29 Sunday Mar 2015

Posted by in Poems, Treasure

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In a talk I listened to recently, it mentioned a story about greyhound dogs. These dogs are the slick racing dogs that are trained to race after a mechanical rabbit. The only problem is, its a mechanical rabbit. These dogs, because of the time they spend in training, and their experience, don’t even recognize a real rabbit when they see one. They have been completely fooled by the mirage of a fake rabbit, or a pharisaic (inside joke) rabbit if you will. One that looks like a rabbit, runs like rabbit, but when you peel off the furry outside, its nothing but cold steel inside. 


In the race of our lives, we need to catch ourselves before we get caught up in the mirage of chasing fake rabbits, and be able to look at things through the perspective of the big questions…


1. Where did we come from? 

2. Why are we here? 

3. Where are we going after this life?


We need to guard against the constant barrage of temptations that may, on their face, not seem so bad. For instance, is it so bad to want a larger, nicer home for your family? Wouldn’t a nicer car be so much safer for my family to drive around in?  All these questions are rhetorical and not meant to pass judgement on anybody at all, but this is exactly how we get caught up in the treasures of the world. Sometimes that stupid mechanical rabbit looks super realistic. Is there anything wrong with working hard, earning a good living, and providing for the family? Of course not! Quite the opposite is true.  It is our duty to do so. But, not at the expense of losing sight of what a real rabbit looks like. 

Proverbs 11:28 “He that trusteth in his riches shall fall: but the righteous shall flourish as a branch”

D&C 6:7 “Seek not for riches but for wisdom, and behold, the mysteries of God shall be unfolded unto you and then shall you be made rich. Behold, he that hath eternal life is rich.”

Mathew 6:19-21 “Lay not up for yourselves treasure upon earth, where moth and rust doth corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal: But lay up treasures for yourselves in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal: For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.”

The Mirage of Stuff

We hunt for treasure endlessly,
a brand new car, new phone, TV,
a bigger house, expensive clothes,
A fancy boat or quad, or both.

The race for all the nicest things,
does nothing but frustration bring,
And wastes the effort we invest,
to pile up treasure, to impress
the other racers in the game,
determined to do just the same.

The worldly treasures that we seek,
act as mirage, just out of reach,
that disappear as we draw near,
now dust, where diamonds once appeared.

For THINGS do not bring happiness-
but heart that’s proud and covetous,

But, BEING righteous, kind and true,
honest, faithful through and through,
Will lay up treasure that endures,
And Heaven’s mansions will be yours.

Going Global

25 Wednesday Mar 2015

Posted by in Language, Poems, Portuguese

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In an attempt at placating the mighty demands of our vast readership in Brazil, Portugal, Angola, and Mozambique, I’ve constructed a small token for their enjoyment in their native tongue. For all the readers confined to English (not Tyson) google translate is awesome.

Cristo Redentor

O! Meu Mestre, Bom Senhor!
Meu amado Redentor!
Me resgate da fraqueza
À tua casa tão beleza

As marcas, sinto em tuas mãos
Trazem minha salvação
E teu espírito me diz
Se eu te sigo, serei feliz!

3 Days

24 Tuesday Mar 2015

Posted by in Easter, Jesus Christ, Poems, Resurrection

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In honor of the Easter season, and in the spirit of recognizing its significance, I’d like for us to think of how much the Savior was able to accomplish in such a relatively short amount of time. His ministry started when he was 30 years old, and lasted only 3 short years, culminating in his crucifixion and resurrection. 3 years to change the course of human history. We can also break those 3 years down even further, His most lasting and meaningful moments could be highlighted in 3 different days or events.

 

 

3 Days

Three greater days have never passed before the eyes of men,
In all of God’s created worlds, from when all time began.
They came in chaos, strife, and pain, with peace left far behind,
the crucial fulcrum of mankind’s meridian of time..

Day 1

First of three, that night foreseen, His sacred supper blessed.
The Christ, betrayed, retired to pray, find peace, and quiet rest.
But peace came not that night at all, but blood from every pore,
As our Brother, all alone, atoned, our sins He bore.

While crushed with pain, for sins not his, He prayed on bended knees,
an angel came to comfort give, His strength in hour of need.
He drank the bitter dregs from cup o’erflown with sin of man.
His love for us the reason for fulfilling Father’s plan

First darkened night of storm and quake then fear from nature’s wrath,
For man had seen the Son of God, yet heeded not His path,
And Christ alone, bore all the weight of justice through that night,
And Evil thought its victory won, delighted in His plight!

Through deep humiliation’s path, He walked, but did not speak,
He bore our burdens, felt our pain, passed through our trials bleak.
And then descended far below what man could take, and live.
So he could succor us in need, true empathy He’d give.

He hung upon the cross, and felt completely left alone,
For God the Father, left him in that moment to atone,
He drank the cup, fulfilled his calling in our Father’s plan
The single greatest moment in the history of man!

God’s anger at the wickedness of man was then displayed,
as lightning, thunder, quakes, and storm brought forward man’s dismay,
But soon the darkened skies of angered God would be replaced,
By dancing sunbeams in the garden, welcoming the day.

Day 2

The second day on earth was still, disciples left behind,
were left to wonder how it was that man had been so blind,
to fail to see the miracles of Gods begotten son,
they crucified their only hope, The Lord, the Chosen One.

But though the battered body of our Lord lay in the tomb,
His spirit lifted from the confines of the little room,
And gathered with the other spirits in God’s paradise,
He taught that broken were the bands from evil’s deadly vice.

And all who’d follow Him would have the chance to be baptized,
For mercy, love and justice rule,  His law not compromised,
Three days in heaven’s paradise instructing all who’d died,
Before returning down to earth as He had prophesied.

This short time in paradise gave hope to countless souls,
creating need for those alive to bring into the fold,
their loved ones who had died without the knowledge of the Christ,
nor of His loving message of atoning sacrifice.

And now His temples dot the earth where veil is thin at times
Between the seen and unseen souls who truly follow Christ
And ancient are the blessing giv’n to all who enter there,
While rescuing those hopeful souls from endless dark despair

And by this link to fathers gone our hearts to them do turn,
And through the Spirit’s sealing power, their hearts to us return,
For all God’s children have the power of choice to follow Him,
Whether born in priesthood light, or circumstances grim.

For Christ enabled on that day, the worthy ones below,
To act in proxy, for the spirits who had come to know,
And then accepted gospel truths, but with no flesh and bone,
Could not fulfill the ordinance nor covenant on their own.

Day 3

The third day was the brightest one, renewed in spirit’s fire,
For resurrected was our Lord, no longer He required,
Any mortal thing on earth, For He had conquered death,
Became the way, the truth, and life, for hope, he gave new breath.

The morning light on that third day had symbolized anew,
That light had overcome both dark and sorrow from the tomb.
And equal as the deepest pain from loss of God’s own Son,
Was hope and love and confidence for victory was won!

No longer would the chains of hell or death be absolute,
For Christ had Risn’ in perfect form, though marks in hand and foot,
Remained for all to feel and look with tears and trembling hands
Reminders of the pain he felt fulfilling Father’s plan.

His gift to us, without condition, none to be deprived,
Was that of immortality; if earned, Eternal life.
He conquered death by taking up His mortal body’s frame,
But now exalted, quickened, by the power in His name

Three days of mighty consequence in many different ways,
For dark they were before with storm, now lit with heavens rays
And all mankind will struggle to fulfill our hearts on earth,
Unless we follow Jesus Christ, The One who gives us worth.

Embark for Him

22 Sunday Feb 2015

Posted by in Poems

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Embark for Him

A mighty ship before us lies in harbor, patiently,
Needing crew and captains too, before it sets to sea.
It’s destination? Beautiful, Celestial, peaceful rest,
It’s journey long, through weather strong, and sea so treacherous-

That all aboard will question why we chose this ship at all?
For waves of fierce resistance come, hoping we will fall,
They’ll beat relentless on the bow, with pounding wind and rain,
forcing us to doubt if we will see the land again.

And in that hour of dark and dread – Remember! Hold on tight!
Our promise made, to serve with strength, to give our heart and might,
We’ll serve our Captain, do His will, our Father’s aid implore,
So that blameless we will stand upon the Heavenly shore,

For Christ has paid our ransom, and our fare upon this sea,
He guides us through the wind and rain, and shields us carefully,
And asks that we return His love, and His commands obey,
Embark for Him. Draw near to Him, and in His arms we’ll stay.

See Doctrine and Covenants 4:2

Stonewalls or Stairs

17 Tuesday Feb 2015

Posted by in Opposition, Poems

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Throughout our lives we inevitably get stuck in ruts, or have times that are hard, or extremely difficult, rocky, or for some reason, just a struggle. We can very easily get caught up in those moments, and have a serious doubt that there is any divine help available. We struggle to understand the “Why” part of our horrible no good very bad day/week/month/year.  On paper, we can explain it as a “trial”, but when it hits home, and you’re in the thick of it, its the last thing we think of. We just want it to end.

Stonewalls and Stairs

A life of walls in front of me
unending obstacles I see.
Just as one, I finally clear,
another, greater one appears.

And on, and on, I struggle up,
with cramping hands, deep scrapes and cuts,
With not much strength left in my bones,
I struggle up these walls of stone.

I yearn for peace, and rest, at last,
A time to stop, the struggle pass.
But yet, ahead, another wall,
to block my way, my rest forestall

But as I pause, and look behind,
and see the walls that I have climbed.
my thoughts, they come, in quiet peace,
with silent voice my doubts appease.

For plain and simple truth I see,
Im stonger now, my weakness flees,
My walls of stone, that caused despair,
now clearly shown, appear as stairs.

Stairs that lift and guide me up,
toward the One who drank the cup,
Who, for me, has suffered all,
That I might rise, e’en though I fall.

This stair, this wall, that bruises me,
Makes me work, helps me to see,
How struggle cleanses, bends my knees,
and forges true humility.

My life has walls, and rock debris
But if I climb, with Him I’ll be.
And feel His wounds in hands and feet,
And in Him have my rest complete.


We are not alone in this thinking. It has happened before. A lot. To some really faithful people. 

Joseph Smith wrote, “O God, where art thou? And where is the pavilion that covereth thy hiding place? How long shall thy hand be stayed?”

 Job, after the initiation of his horrible experiences, cursed the day he was born, saying, “Let the day perish wherein I was born.”

Jesus Christ himself asked that the bitter cup be taken from Him if possible.

 So, whats the deal? why is it this way? The answer is…because. Because it makes us into someone we need to be. We need to try and look at these walls placed in front of us in a little different light…..
Our true rest will feel so much better if we are resting from labors overcoming our own human weakness. If we can see the obstacles in our way as a stairway to heaven, we will look forward and upward not down and backward.

Why I Can’t see Angels

20 Tuesday Jan 2015

Posted by in Angels, Faith

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I can’t see angels. There, I said it. I know its a shocking revelation, but its true. Its kind of a total bummer, because there isn’t anything that I think would be much better than to go through life and be able to draw upon their strength by seeing them with physical eyes! I would love to be walking down the hallway of the hospital during my workday, and see Teancum on his way to an urgent task of helping the lunch lady deal with the stresses of the day. I’d nod a little, kind of like a “whats up, T? Sweet sword!” kind of thing, and he would say, “thanks bro, yeah, Joshua just made for me”, and we would both have this perfect understanding of what he was up to and it would be totally awesome. I imagine all the time what it would be like.

So, whats holding me back? why is it that I cant see angels? I mean, even the rebellious punks from the Book of Mormon were able to see them, just go ask Alma the younger, and Laman and Lemuel.

I always figured it was just as simple as concentrating harder or having a righteous desire to see the helpers from beyond the veil. That may indeed be a part of it, however, during my last trip to the temple, I stumbled upon, or better yet, was told, what I could do to indeed “see angels”.

I had just spent the whole session concentrating and imagining where these angels would be, right next to me in the empty chairs, up by the veil, walking around in the celestial room, etc. Of course, I again came up empty, no angelic visitors  this time. I never felt discouraged, or disappointed, or ripped off, or anything like that, just was really thinking about how I would really, really, love to be able to see these awesome helpers that are all around us.

       After the session, Catie had just stepped out to do a few initiatory names, so I had a few minutes in the celestial room by myself to relax.  So, she suggested that I maybe sit and read for a few minutes, then she would meet me at the car after she was done. I agreed, thought it was a great idea, and proceeded to sit down on a comfy couch, grabbed a triple combination, and was ready to be instructed.

I paused for just about 3 seconds, holding the book in front of me, closed, and preparing to open it, when my thoughts went to all those stories about how people just opened their scriptures to the perfect verse for them at the time. This always seemed almost too good to be true. I had never had that experience, I had always landed like in the middle of Habakkuk in the old testament. So, In those 3 seconds, I thought, “alright, here we go, big money, no whammies, lets see what I get today.”

I opened the book, or I might say, someone I couldn’t see opened the book to Ether 12. I know instantly that it was a great chapter on faith, and that I could a least read that chapter and be reminded of a lot of good principles. So, I went back one page, and started from the beginning.

It took about 17 seconds for me to get to verse 6, Where, Moroni, as narrator, steps back to instruct us a little more specifically about the Jaradites and their lack of faith. It Says, “And now, I, Moroni, would speak somewhat concerning these things; I would show unto the world that faith is things which are hoped for and not seen.; wherefore, dispute not because ye see not, for ye receive no witness until after the trial of your faith.”

The last two phrases might as well have been in neon flashing, and had a theme song playing as I read them over. I understood what was being taught to me in that moment. I was being taught, that I, personally, didn’t necessarily need to see angels to believe that they were there. I wasn’t disputing them, and I understood it more like, “don’t worry” because you don’t see angels, etc. But, the best part was the next sentence, “For ye receive no witness until after the trial of your faith” I instantly understood at that moment, that, this, for me, meant that I “could” see them,  but only after a trial of my faith. I was happy, and nervous at the same time. I felt a little like Lloyd Christmas saying, “So……., you’re saying I have a chance?” But, at the same time, I didn’t want to “pay” for it with a trial of my faith if I could help it. But I learned even more as I kept going.

Verse 19 was the next one. “And there were many whose faith was so exceedingly strong, even before Christ came, who could not be kept from within the veil, but truly saw with their eyes the things which they had beheld with an eye of faith, and they were glad.” This was the awesome part. If I keep increasing, developing, building, hoping, improving, etc., I will build my faith. And if it continues, and I reach the point where the veil is unable to contain all things, Awesome.

The cool part to me was also this, it explains that those who were able to “see beyond the veil” had already seen those things with their “eye of faith”.  So, maybe all of those whose faith was exceedingly strong, and were able to eventually “see with their eyes” also, at some point, sat in temple sessions and imagined their guardian angels sitting right next to them, or imagined totally awesome prophets or scriptural characters fist pounding them while walking down the street. These scriptures, pointed out to me by someone unseen,  gave me a roadmap to eventually be able to see angels! And, unlike our dear friend Lloyd Christmas, we all have the potential, and innate ability, and I think all of our chances are much better than one-in-a-million.

Chapter 7 Manama Arahi (Heart that Leads)

09 Friday Jan 2015

Posted by in Poems

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Chapter 7

Manawa Arahi was third brother of the four,

Also scarred by heat and ash from life, in battle’s gore,

The distance far between the light from brothers inner flame,

The constant smoke and pressured ash from fire concealed the name,

Of his broad sword of massive build, a bulk of metal raw,

Constrained, and pressured by the mighty grip of dragon claw,

The mounting force applied to squeeze the life from him inside,

As mounds of earth, and ash, and rock above him were applied.

But take his life, it failed to do, this pressure from the mound,

It purified his heart, and righteous clarity was found,

Like diamond formed through pressured ages under mountain tall,

His core contained the light to fight, and lead against the gall.

As diamond formed within his heart, and strength within him grew,

He burst out from below the mound of rock and ash renewed!

The flying embers from the mountain built by dragon claw,

Disappeared when shone upon by sword without a flaw!

The darkness burst, revealing light from massive sword upheld,

It’s size, it’s power, undenied, a beacon to be felt.

It’s writing glowed upon the hilt, in ancient written fire,

“Light from Darkness” it was named, it’s purpose to inspire.

His massive sword of bright white light, measured 8 feet long,

Could only rise up, held by hands and faith and wisdom strong,

Undoubting strength was seen by all who witnessed its pure power,

A beacon raised, inspiring faith, and strength in battle’s hour

His scabbard black, pitch, dark as night, concealed the mighty blade,

But when drawn out, its blinding light eliminated shade.

Which verified, confirmed, made true, the name inscribed thereon,

That light from darkness leads as beacon, mighty righteous throngs!

Not him alone within that mound of ash and rock and flame,

But shared, his life with loving wife, experience the same,

For power held within her strengthened him while under rock,

And triggered light to start the fight, to break the dragon’s lock!

Her light was bent, intensified, as if through prism walls,

His light, her light, within his heart expanding, making tall,

For diamond now his heart that leads, but not without her spark,

Her origin of godly light required to play his part.

Chapter 6 Aroha Te Oaoa (Love and Happiness)

08 Thursday Jan 2015

Posted by in Poems

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Chapter 6

Aroha Te Oaoa was The eldest warrior queen,

who wed the eldest brother when his worth was yet unseen,

Her shield,the one deflecting fire spewed from the dragon tongue,

Her skill to see, protect, and love, instilled in her while young.

Her father, hidden grandmaster, of skill and weaponry,

A wise, and savvy warrior was, who taught in secrecy.

So from her youth, refined the skill, and natural it came,

To see the hidden writing and to see the hidden names,

Upon the shields and weapons of her closest family ties,

The grandmaster had given her the power of pure eyes.

Her eyes could see the hidden, potential, or deceit,

The truth she knew, could not be fooled, her knowledge pure, complete.

Her name interpreted direct, meant “Love and Happiness”,

And all who crossed her path would feel concern and tenderness,

But when confronted by the shadows from the evil one,

Her light that shone from heart and sword, burned bright, as midday sun.

Her sword developed as she grew, and thought, and wisdom gained

The writing on the hilt was clear, and soon it gained its name,

The name, its purpose, clear, concise, inspired from Gods above,

the writing on the hilt divine, its name was “Light and Love”

Her sword not meant for battle fierce, and enemies to maim,

but differed in its purpose true, to teach, inspire, and train.

For her young soldiers, young and new, were precious in her eyes,

Her sword did aid in training them, to her, they were the prize.

The four young soldiers, trained to see, what battle lie ahead,

the mist was drawn from their young eyes, clear truth placed there instead.

For light from sword and heart was giv’n, to each young girl and boy,

To brighten, show, to warn, help grow, to all their strength employ.

Her sword pure white of blinding flame, the hilt of silver leaf,

was kept, displayed, for all to see, in flawless crystal sheath.

For shadow could not be within her presence, nor abide,

for light dispensed them instantly, her power, lit inside.

Chapter 5 Toa Nanakia (Man of Indignation)

08 Thursday Jan 2015

Posted by in Poems

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Chapter 5

Toa also drew upon the power of his kin,

intent to know the purpose of the fire that burned within,

His brothers younger, yet had cleared his eyes of darkened veil

that shrouded understanding of the purpose life entails.

For he, like others, was not free from dragon flame and char,

His arms and hands were fire scorched, across his face, a scar.

Reminding him of claw and flame, of daggers, dragon’s breath,

Relentless fire and darts that flew, to bring about his death.

But with him stood amidst the fire, Aroha she was named,

Deflected onslaught just enough, survived the dragon flame.

Her name interpreted meant “love”, displayed in full that day,

without her intervening hand’s inspiring display.

From that day hence, his ire was stoked, white flame would not go out,

Refined his weapons were at last, from fire within and out.

His anger, built of animus towards darkness, mist of night,

His sword appeared, and differed from the swords of flame and light.

His blade, pitch black obsidian, the handle made of bone,

serrated teeth of jaguar fang, embedded shards of stone,

Was meant to break, and tear, and cleave, dismantle and to maim.

Hence, “Marrow Spiller” it was called, its purpose in its name.

He also wielded smaller knife, a dagger hid from view,

concealed within small hidden sheath, blade of dark green hue,

His dagger named the “Death Bringer”, for ultimate the fate,

of those who fight against the light, the dragon emulate.

The handle, hardened ivory, from ancient tusk was made,

secured the blade so thin and sharp, transluscent polished jade.

Its touch was final, terminal, as referenced in its name,

its purpose to defeat the heat of dragon fire and flame.

And though without, appearance was, of anger, rage, and ire,

within him was the gentle flame of love that was inspired,

His wife, Aroha, fed that flame, and fueled it with her hand,

to point him, focused, when he stood and fought across the land.

For loyalty, fierce honor, and commitment was the fuel,

that fed his drive, prepared his heart, for work, it was his tool.

Her key was matched so perfectly, into his fit as one,

For her steadfast unending love, could never be undone.