Midnight

     The sun started to set on the expansive New Mexico sky, burning the calm shades of blue into deep purples, reds, and oranges. It was the end of summer, a long, tiring summer full of work and with little to show for it. I was ready to finally go about this work the way I had imagined it, and to be able to go forward and help fix myself. I had a long journey ahead of me, and I was not prepared to face my worst enemy yet.

     I had just gotten officially diagnosed with depression. I think I have always had it, but as soon as I got on the plane to Arizona I think it really snapped, and I started to spiral downward in a rate and time that was unprecedented. When I was sent to New Mexico it only dug deeper and got bigger, consuming what little I had left of any courage or care. I finally felt alone, perfectly and completely alone.
      And yet I was not alone. Far from it, I had a companion who cared deeply for me and wanted to help, who wanted to see a change in myself as well as the area, and he worked hard to help out. When finally I decided I needed help, it was him that was there for me. After my first visit with the psychiatrist, I came out of the office hugging him telling him "It's legit! I am depressed!"
     Two weeks later, that support left, and was replaced by an Elder who did not understand, nor did he care to understand the suffering I was going through. We fought, and I was blamed for a lot. We tried to make things work, and in our eyes the other was always wrong for everything. It hurt. We disagreed on so many different parts of even basic and fundamental parts of our religion and beliefs. My nametag had almost lost all of its significance because my worst enemy put the same one on every day. I did not want anything to do with that hurt and pain, I had no anticipation to be a part of the same movement that so much hatred came from.


     As the sun started to sneak behind the Florida Mountains, I found myself in the church parking lot, confused, alone, and tired. I was in our crummy little Jeep Compass, waiting for my companion to stop talking to the sisters so we could go home and I could try to cry myself to sleep. I once tried to talk with them, but it was increasingly apparent that he was usually talking about me, and did not want me to hear it, so I stayed in the car, and waited for him to finish up. They started to laugh, and bitter tears forced their way unwillingly out of me. Nothing seemed to work, and my body seemed to not repress any longer the loneliness that failed me. The sun ominously and dramatically finished its retreat into the mountain range as rage started to heat, simmer, and finally boil inside of me. I did not, could not, and should not have to endure this.
     I honestly do not remember much else of that night. It was a blur of drunken hatred. We went home and in the middle of the night I was still wide awake from the explosiveness of my rage. I walked to our little porch and sat down with a cup of hot cocoa, taking in the chilly shadows of Deming without a sun. The sounds of sirens occasionally echoed off of the otherwise quiet surroundings, and rang in my soul. In front of me laid a cold desert community in which I was visitor, a casual observer for only a few months, someone who they knew would be replaced in only a matter of time. Behind me slept another human being who could not and would not connect with me, and refused to help in any way. Everywhere was merely indifferent to me or hated me, and I couldn't tell which one hurt more. Night surrounded me, the inky black shadows started to engulf me. Not even the hot cocoa could warm that cold void that was realized inside of me. I drained the cup and burst into pitiful tears, not sure why I was feeling so alone. My life was supposed to be awesome! Sure I am not best friends with my companion, and sure I am feeling a little bit of displacement, but I have a loving family and friends who support me, and I have a testimony of Jesus Christ and His love for me... Why then, why was I feeling so... so alone? Why was my head giving me such vile thoughts about myself and others, why was I so depressed? Why couldn't I just get happier?!

 

 

The night had to grow a little darker yet before the sun would rise. The endurance test was not yet completed.

You Can Change The World

You Can Change The World

Written by Erika Kofoed, rhymed by J. Mahlon Allred

First off, I pray as you read this poem

That you will not make these principles foreign

Please, just open up your mind and heart

So you can better play your divine part

Each one of us can reach out and give 

A piece of our soul so another may live

And though our paths will intertwine

Our perspective's unique, a beauty divine

Each one of us may aid one another

From a bleak day to one full of color

To love is an absolute must

Without it who can we trust?

You see, I'm living by a new code

One that gives a far more rewarding load

It goes: "I'm better than that!"

I promise you, it's where it's at

We could make others recoil and shrink

To make us bigger, or so we may think 

Or instead we can resolve and decide

To speak of love, the heart's deep confide

Some days we need a hug and a smile

To help us remember we are worthwhile

Why not then go to others and give out

The very love we couldn't live without?

This leads us to missionary work

A divine duty none should shirk

Though another a better job may do

No other can touch a heart like you

See, you are you, a person unique

And you now hold what another still seeks

As you give, your soul will start a chain

To destroy the hate and sadness to drain

Which reminds me of a film I saw that stuck with me

That serves as an example of who we can be

It starts with the wishes of a man who passed on

Who wanted a letter mailed out that dawn

The recipient of the letter this man did not know

And where frustrated to get an object of a sum very low

The woman was given a seashell, and set it aside

And began to read what this man had to confide

It goes "Hello Mrs. Jones, I want to give back your light. 

It sounds strange, but it starts after my wife and I had a fight. 

This argument was awful, hateful poison was spoken

Defeated and angry I left her no token

I walked to the beach, discouraged and done

When I saw you, a newly wed couple, happy and young

Walking with smiles, holding hand in hand

Your husband gave you a seashell from the beach sand

Happily walking away, this shell you dropped back

I saw your exuberant love, something I did lack

Desiring what you two had, and wanting to forgive

I bought my dear wife some flowers, so our broken love could yet love

At first she refused, and shoo'd me away

But with a gentle push she accepted, I'm thankful to this day

And after many years later we together went through

I just wanted to thank you, and hope that you knew."

As she read the last words a tear dropped on the letter

She picked up the phone, knowing she could do better

"Hello my dear estranged husband, before we bid farewell,

There is one last bit of love I absolutely need to tell."

I challenge you friends, that as we go on

Even all around the world, don't forget the picture I've drawn

Whatever you do, what adventures you embrace

Remember those around you, and put a smile on their face!

And as you do this, the best example you can,

Your life will fill with joy, your heart will understand

Though a times you may ask "how can I make a difference in a sea of others?"

Remember you are you, and are like no other

Alas, I cannot write forever, my words must now end

But they will not die if your love you do send

We are all of God's children, we can all share His light

By giving our love we increase our might

Dusk Pt. 1

Dusk.

The time when the sun fades from the sky, and night takes reign. The time when there seems to be light, and yet everything is covered in shadows and darkness, hiding their true identities. A time of confusion. A time of change.

 

     It was not everyday that I woke up with bitterness in my head. It was not common for me to get from my bed more tired than I got in it, with less energy than if I had stayed up all night. It was not everyday that I had hatred in my very soul from my sorrows. But that dusk came for me, and I started to realize all too late that I was being engulfed in the very pain that I was trying to help others from. I was falling into the very darkness that I was warning others of literally all day.

     Can you spell hypocrite? I sure felt like one. I felt that I could not give to others what I myself was lacking, and though there was light and hope, it seemed to not be able to reach anything that was immediately important to me. It merely lighted the horizon, and kept the details veiled with inky, thick darkness. I was alone, and alone in the dark.

     I tried many of the remedies I had prescribed. I read the scriptures, said my prayers, tried to find peace with those who had already found some. Nothing seemed to light up the darkness though, nothing could penetrate the living shadows that covered what I so desperately needed. Waking up was a chore, and putting on my nametag, which I had fought to wear in the first place, became a weighted and almost sad affair. I felt like a fake.

     That was only the beginning as well. There would be even more struggles, my sun would seem to set all together, and I for a while lost almost all hope.

I want to emphasize the word "almost" in the last sentence.

 

     This was when life gave me lemons, and I was eating them raw and plain. This was before I started to figure out the sugar in life... Vital, it started to dawn on me, that I needed something, and something quick, to figure this out.

 

This is my conversion story, wrapped up in a four series part, each labeled as different part of the day/night cycle. The events are mostly in chronological order, and reflect some of my many personal moments that have helped me understand who I am and what I want to be. It contains some of my fears and conquers, my hatred and finding love. This is my story. This is my life.

Good, Better, and Best

          Although I was not there, I can imagine my parent's wedding day was a spectacular and beautiful event. I can almost see their young and smiling faces look toward such a bright future full of potential and adventure. It must have been an absolutely joyous occasion. Yet funny enough, when they found one another in a secluded spot on that day, my mother turned to my father, with a little bit of worry and doubt in her eyes. She questioned very carefully yet very bluntly to him: "How will I know that you will not cheat on me or leave me?"
     My father turned to her, and contemplated his answer.

STOP.

     What an interesting question huh? And what potential to be romantic and mushy gushy right? I mean haven't we all heard the answer before? "Well because I love you too much. I could and would NEVER do that to you." See, you get points for 'proving' your love and you answer her question... Right?

Let's back up a few paces.

     When looking for a friend or someone to date and possibly marry, we tend to look for a lot of things that quickly blend into not a lot of things. Let me explain, all too often we hear that shallow people look for good looking people and not shallow people look for good personalities. These two parts of us are indeed important parts, our identity is very much based upon how we look in both dress as well as our aesthetics in many ways shapes us, and what that doesn't solidify in our identity our personality seems to fill. We are mere percentages in this regard, mathematical equations of identities of cliches. We have nothing that sets us truly apart, we are all the same set of robots in different masks. There really can only be so many personalities and quirks, and so many different faces and body types.
     I used to think those two where the defining factors of people, especially when looking for a relationship. Let me further my explanation with yet another story (While I have climatically left the first one unanswered... added suspense I suppose).
     There was this girl I have known for a long time. She is absolutely beautiful, a true stunning example of God's great creation, and anyone would say so. I met her quite a long time ago, and have always been attracted to her. When I was quite young, I mustered up the courage to ask this gorgeous specimen out to try to get to know her first. I remember asking the question online, and her answer was a hesitant but somewhat adventurous yes. I nearly exploded, and kept looking at her picture and her beautiful face thinking that somehow I lucked out enough to get this dear beau monde.
     One could tell simply by examining the way I refer to her in the last paragraph that this 'relationship' probably lasted a total of four days. It was mind blowing to me to see it crumble and fall. At first, I blamed it on her. I said "I gave you all! I treated you like a queen's queen! I called you beautiful every second of the day, and what do you do? You say it is not enough? That I don't care?"
     Well, she wasn't entirely right, but she hit the important part on the nail. I did care very dearly about her, but it was more about how beautiful she was than anything else. It was idol worship instead of any kind of relationship.
     That was when I discovered that women aren't merely defined by their hair and their symmetry (or asymmetry) but also by another factor: Their personality. The way they talk and laugh. What they like and do not like, all that good stuff. Well, upon discovering that women are actually very human too, I decided to try to see how this certain young lady matched up with it all. I liked her alot, and we got along well. We talked and laughed together, and we clicked pretty well.
     Upon passing that test, I decided to again, muster up the courage (online again, my courage only went so far back then) and ask her out. She said yes a little easier and happier this time, with a greater sense of what she was getting herself into.
     Well, for nearly three weeks we went out this time. It was interesting to see how I was still obsessed with her beauty, but I was shocked by a couple of times when she opened up to me and let out some of her imperfections. I saw some of the first inglorious parts of real relationships with her, and at the time I really didn't expect any of that. It would take years for me to start to appreciate them.
     Again though, she cut the cord. I was not enough, or rather, I was too much for her at that time, and honestly with my state at the time I was far too much for anyone. I still did not get it though. I bought her things, I told her so dearly how much I loved her. I complimented everything about her... Why was I failing? Again, at the time I very foolishly labeled myself of superior  maturity and that one day she will understand. That has yet to happen expectantly enough! :)
     Well, then I started to forget about her. I wandered far from my trusted paths and friends, and lost myself in so many strange new worlds and places. Many times they where dark, and many times I was far from home spiritually. That was when I found out the third and most important part of our identity: our character. Our character is influenced by our personality, but it is truly who we are when no-one is looking. It is who we are when the lights are turned off. Our character is really what binds us to our identities, at least the identities that really matter.
     This is what we really will live with when we get into a relationship. Their looks and beauty will eventually fade, as sad as that may be. They too must grow old. Their personality can only go so far. You can only do so much with their personality and they with yours.
     But their morals, their character... That is lasting. That is what will either bind you or break you in any kind of friendship or relationship. That is what really matters.
   
     Now, I never connected a third time with this beautiful friend in a romantic way, but I know that if I did, it would last possibly for all eternity. Not because I am a great man, or she is a great woman, but more so because we both have an interesting part embedded into our character. We both love God.

    Before you all moan and complain that God has nothing to do with relationships, He absolutely does! C.S. Lewis paints this picture extremely effective with his essay "The Trouble With X:"
     "That is one way in which God's view must differ from mine. He sees all the characters: I see all except my own. But the second difference is this. He loves the people in spite of their faults. He goes on loving. He does not let go. Don't say, 'It's all very well for Him; He hasn't got to live with them.' He has. He is inside them as well as outside them. He is with them far more intimately and closely and incessantly than we can ever be. Every vile thought within their minds (and ours), every moment of spite, envy, arrogance, greed and self-conceit comes right up against His patient and longing love, and grieves His spirit more than it grieves ours."
     Elder Bruce R. McConkie of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles said this of worshiping God: "Perfect worship of God is emulation."
     When we love God, we try to be like Him. When we try to be like Him, we become happy and loving people who are dedicated to helping others feel a similar love and happiness. We become united.
     I have talked with this great friend of mine often, and I cannot tell you how much more impressed I am with her character and her love for others. She truly is one of the best people I know in that regard, and though her life is not perfect (like all of our mortal lives) I know that she is trying very hard to make it work out. She is truly trying.


     Now to return to my first story. My Father had just turned to his beautiful Wife, who had just poured her entire soul into this one question. He took a breath, and simply stated to her "Because I love God too much, and I will not violate any of His laws."
     Not exactly romantic by man's standards, and when he first told me that story years ago, I kind of balked at him for losing such an opportunity to profess his love for her, not necessarily God. Now though, I have started to really see the absolute beauty in it, and my Mother was perfectly happy with that, she understood his love for God was more than his love for her because God's love for us is far more than we can ever comprehend. When we trust Him and do as He says, He NEVER leaves us out in the dark. My Mother understood this, as did my Father, and that is what I mean by their character, they understood love in the true nature of it: God's love. They have given so much back to Heavenly Father by loving their family and giving them the best home they could. They serve others and help as many as they can. They are far from perfect, but they have given me all along this grand love that I only barely have started to comprehend. Stunning.

Sins

Phoenix

Phoenix

By Elder J. Mahlon Allred

There's a constant nag

In the back of our head

Though not always clear

Like covered by a bag

Or in a dark corner of a shed

It's rarely close, though always near

More a throbbing ache rather than a stab

The pain never goes, one just accepts

When darkness grows, our eyes adjust

Even so, when life gets drab

The beauties age and we forget

The pleasantries we had grown to trust

And our life may seem frozen, yet we burn like fire

We rise from the ashes as we have been inspired

Beauty of Happenstance

The picture below is a photograph of my Great Grandfather, Elwood B. Allred.

 

 

     Art. The beauty of art we all too many times take for something conscious and intended. I do not think this to be the case at all. Art is not always intentional, indeed much of art is the beauty of coincidence, the beauty of true character shown.

     This is one of those examples. I have heard many stories of the man pictured above. He gave a lot of service to his community and his family. He was a faithful husband, son, and father, even when it was extremely difficult and taxing. He too suffered from depression, but he did not let that get him. He refused.

     That is why I like this picture so much. It is beautiful because it shows his character, with flaws, but also with determination. He is on the trail up on a mountain somewhere in Idaho. First, the surroundings show the trail is a little upward, and curves out of sight. Though there is not much snow on the ground, there is on the mountains, meaning that the beautiful Idaho chill is still going on. His heavier clothing also testifies to that. The sky seems to be clouded and overcast, and that combined with the robust beauty of the mountains seems to testify of the struggles of his life- he had some difficult mountains to climb, and not always in the fair weather.

     Now to him. His posture seems to be a combination of a disciplined worker combined with a sense of melancholy. His gun is not a sign of violence, but rather freedom, as this was a time where guns where not taboo.His hat is tilted down as the style of the era he grew up in, a possible testament to sentimentality I suppose. His boots and clothes seemed well taken care of, despite the miles they have weathered. He cared about how he looked, not as a sense of pride, but because he may have been a little haunted by his imperfections, and wanted to present himself the best he could despite them.

     The most beautiful thing of this picture though is his face. It seems tired, though determined. He is older it looks like, and though he pleads for his trials to leave, he seems to be resolute to have to deal with them. It is a kind of balance that is too often tipped from one extreme to the other. I really like the way the whole photograph seems to flow around him, yet without sacrificing the rugged beauty of the landscape. I cannot pretend to know what makes a good photograph a good photograph except that it presents... humanity. To me, it is something that just seems to resonate with ourselves, something that seems true or profound to us, whether consciously or not.