[93]=>Stupid Love Song
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3 Nephi 11-religion paper
Jo-Pete Nelson
Monday, March 03, 2003
Rel A 122H-204

Eyes shut. Eyes open. And shut again. Blink a few more times, no change. Darkness everywhere. Darkness, but no solitude to be found in this pitch of night. Nearby, a sister cries softly, as she has been for seeming eternities. She even cries in her sleep. Off in the distance, the more insistent baritone of a man reciting long, anguish-filled prayers to a God he’d forgotten until just recently. How long had it been? Anybody’s guess would’ve done, but one would guess that it’s been at least a couple days. A couple of eternities would have felt about the same.

It is hard to tell which was more frightening… the storm or the aftermath. Those first few hours were unbearably intense… the whole earth seemed to break apart as if in response to a mighty god’s fall. Lightening made the sky glow a harsh tone almost constantly, lighting up the awful scene of mass destruction. The earth doubled its groan and echoed huge smashing and rending of great rocks. The next flash of lightening showed distant, unfamiliar mountains in the landscape where the mighty city to the east once stood. The vibrant, evil flicker of a massive fire to the west contrasted the cold hue of the lightening. Gone now… all gone. The shadow took it all in- no sun, no moon, no stars, no fires. Nothingness engulfed all eyes.

Now the only thing left to do is wait. “Wait for what?” one asks. The question is asked to no avail, because what comes next is a mystery. The first instinct was to mourn for those who died: the horrible deaths in the terrible storm, death by suffocating under the new mountains, the unimaginable pain of burning to death. After some time in the sticky, humid darkness, this thought is abandoned as thoughts of self take precedence. The acrid smell of charred flesh floats from the west, and thought of death change from mourning to envy. Nothing to do but sit. And wait. For something.





As the awesome voice from heaven drones on, giving count of all the destruction in the land, on questions whether to mourn the dead or the living. All is lost, all destroyed by the Almighty God. He offers healing, but that is so hard to comprehend in such darkness and pain. Next comes the silence… for hours, all the living contemplate what was said. And after that, the voice returns, offering a double-edged sword… “Repent and return to me,” or else “the places of your dwellings shall become desolate.” And again, there is much weeping and wailing until the rise of the new sun.





…As the Son comes into view, all darkness flees. What was eternally dark now has light reflected from every corner. Slowly, all eyes turn to welcome it, and new life radiates from every living thing. The light and the life focus on the radiance of the Son.

“Behold, I am Jesus Christ, whom the prophets testified shall come into the world. And behold, I am the light and the life of the world.” Behold: the light and the life of the world has come at last. All praise his name.

uploaded Sat March 08 2003 at 10:25 PM
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