Family Excursion to Ely Creek Falls in Jones Hole

The Rasmussens, Rodericks, Coutures and Webers combined for a wonderful excursion to Jones Hole today. We played in the Ely Creek waterfall enjoying the world famous Power Shower. We also swam in Jones Creek below the bridge. A fun five mile hike, great picnic and tons of fun had by all. To see even more photos, click on see full album at the end of the slide show! Or click here!

Dump Runs

I've hauled a lot of trash to the dump this week. I cleaned out two sheds and was amazed at the volume of junk I had hoarded over the years. One shed in particular was like an archaeological dig layered with 20 years of stratified detritus from our lives in this location. Some of it, I might have used, had I remembered it was buried under accumulations of other stuff.

I could hardly get into that shed and the pile had essentially rendered the shed useless, not to mention it's contents.

Now, after a thorough cleansing, the shed is able to serve me. I have easy access to all of it's contents. It's contents are only those things I need. The trash, overburden, worthless and rotten is all gone, buried in a growing mountain of stuff others have similarly discarded. In fact a scraper, loader/compacter and bulldozer are kept busy full time just managing that mountain of once priceless rubbish.

I guess at one time, I must have thought that trailer load of stuff was worth keeping. What has changed? Perhaps the realization that if I hadn't used it again in 20 odd years, what makes me think if might in the next 20. Perhaps I kept it because having exchanged it for money, which represented hours of labor, I somehow needed to justify it's expense in the first place. As the money was no longer hoarded in the Bank, I needed to hoard it's results somewhere else.

All I really know today, is that it was liberating to toss it all and be done with it. It was a burden I took on long ago. One I took on so gradually that I didn't notice the weight of it until it had practically buried me. It was so liberating in fact, that I'm looking elsewhere for more baggage to unload. I love the dump for it's open maw, so willing to receive my burdens allowing me to leave so empty and light, happy to return to tidy, useful, swept out sheds.

I was tempted to call this a metaphor for life, living, repentance, redemption, healing, salvation, all provided by the Atonement of Jesus Christ. It is not so much a metaphor as a real manifestation of life. For Atonement is both spiritual and temporal. Mortality is both spiritual and temporal. Eternity is both spiritual and temporal. Cleansing the sheds of valueless garbage is no different than cleansing our souls of the same. Both foul our lives. Cleansing is cleansing.

Book Review - How Greek Philosophy Corrupted the Christian Concept of God

Richard R. Hopkins has thrilled me with his carefully researched treatise on a most important subject.

I would call this the definitive work refuting the claim the Mormons are not Christians. He has carefully, masterfully, examined the history, method and means by which orthodox Christianity became heir to corrupted notions about the nature of both God and man and about the nature of their relationship.

No thinking scholar could deny Hopkins' thesis; not in the face of the evidence he has here examined. That said, I suspect that his work will largely go unnoticed by those thus corrupted. It is a nice, affirming read for those of us who already understand and accept the Latter-day Saint view of God. If there are honest seekers among those whose belief in God has been influenced by Orthodox Christian views, they will find this book helpful and gratifying, but we all know that a man convinced against his will, will remain of the same opinion still.

I recommend the book highly for it's clear examination of truth and is unflinching indictment of error. I especially loved Hopkins' treatment of the subjects of time, eternity and infinity. Those were the most concise and enlightening chapters on the subject I've ever encountered.

From the book: "Mormon theology provides a coherent concept of God, while that of classical theism is demonstrably incoherent." You might think demonstrably to be a pretty strong word in such a declaration, but Hopkins' book fully demonstrates the incoherence of which he speaks.

John 17:3 "And this is life eternal, that they might know thee the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom thou hast sent." I am thankful beyond measure for the revealed correction we enjoy to the world's corrupted understanding of God.

I wish Richard R. Hopkins, would follow this book with one devoted to How Greek Philosophy Has Corrupted Western Thought. I am convinced that we in the West have adopted patterns of thinking that make understanding God and even our own religion more difficult. We struggle to understand many important concepts because we've been culturally trained to think according to Greek ideology. We are trying to understand what is essentially an Eastern Religion, with Western minds. I believe that without the Greek influence in our thinking we'd more easily understand and accept such concepts as losing our lives to gain them, submitting our will to God's, becoming "perfect" and so on. One of the reasons the Pharisee's struggled with Jesus' teachings was that they had already been heavily influenced by Greek philosophy.

How Greek Philosophy Corrupted the Christian Concept of God is an academic read, but flows easily and is not over the lay person's head. I recommend it highly!

Brotherhood

Saturday I had to move the Hare Hilton off the lawn. It had been there too long already and the grass was trodden down, dried out and in horrible shape. We've got entertaining to do back there and I hoped to get it into recovery before that next onslaught.

The hutch, which you may have already observed, had taken on a life of it's own. One consequence being that it was way too heavy for John and I to move by ourselves. I have always had too much of an independent streak to be comfortable asking others for help getting me out of fixes I managed perfectly fine to get myself into on my own. Still, there was nothing for it so I called around asking for volunteers.

Of course friends from all around readily volunteered. Dan and Wayne and Paul and John rallied and had the thing moved, easily, and in short order. Plenty of joking, back slapping, cajoling and fun accompanied the, far too short, time we spent together on the project.

I've thought of that experience several times in the few days since. I need more of that. More of the brotherhood of my brethren. I have fond memories of my youth being spent, picking cherries on the Welfare Farm in Provo, bucking bales or irrigating on the Welfare Farm here in Vernal, building the Ashley Stake Center, going with the quorum to cut wood for the widows in our Ward. Working shoulder to shoulder adds a dimension to Priesthood brotherhood that you just can't get in a meeting.

I'll will always cherish the day I spent with Tom Howells removing concrete forms beneath the furnace room in the Ashley Stake Center. Tom and I remained close friends for the rest of our lives. Despite the wide difference in our ages, the brotherhood we felt that day, became a bond of trust and admiration, never to be broken.

Around here, the Welfare Farm, is a thing of the past and, too often, so is meaningful service performed with gloves and overalls. I've resolved to need my neighbors more and I hope to encourage them to need me. Many hands makes light work, but better than that, is the bond of friendship, brotherhood and strength that inevitably grows from it.

I heard there's a work project scheduled at the Heber Girl's Camp in September. I think I'll go.

Oh, To Be Like Steve (Different Steve)

Last night Steve and Verona and Kirk and Dorraine dropped by. We sat on the picnic tables out back and visited for hours. What a wonderful evening of joyful companionship. I have no idea what the gals were discussing, but it was lively, even raucous, so it must have been fun.

As for the guys, well, Steve brought another of his creations to share and Kirk and I had a good time learning about flutes. I have quite a collection of flutes; Native American, South American, Irish etc. Steve makes his own. He started into this flute fetish before I did and has purchased a few, but the vast majority of them he has built himself.

This evening he brought one over that is large and experimental. It has no finger holes but he can play it in five octaves. It is what you'd call a drone. As luck would have it, this drone is tuned precisely to harmonize with one of my favorite Native flutes. I was playing mine when he piped in with his drone and the effect was enchanting. We improvised a couple of songs together with magical effect.

I marvel at Steve's enormous curiosity and his confidence in tackling the project of making not only one, but several wonderful instruments. He keeps copious notes. Researches and experiments constantly and each new creation seems an amazing improvement over the last. He's becoming a self taught master craftsman.

So, not only does he enjoy making music, he is expanding his mind, developing his gifts, manifesting his practicality and sharing his talents. I would love to make so much of life and living. Thank you Steve, for not only sharing your great music, but also the inquisitive, creative, adventuresome song of your kind heart.