Sunday, November 3, 2013


A few years ago, I tagged along with Grant and his girls to see Battle Creek falls.
This afternoon I did a web search to see if I could find current pictures of people hiking to the falls.

Found this:
And this:

And this:

And this:
 And was I ever glad that this hadn't occurred to him back in his and Jared's rappelling days!

What I was looking for was a better picture of this:
Bishop Atkinson used it as a visual aid for the points he made in today's R.S. lesson about endurance.
It is NEW falls created below the above falls by the wild Utah County storm which took place September 7th, 2013.  It was the eve of BYU Cougars playing Texas Longhorns, and the storm delayed the game two hours.  ESPN commentators said the Longhorns must have been in such awe of the majestic Timpanogos mountain range, it threw them off their game.  In the picture below you can see the stands being cleared, and all those people waited the two hours underneath the stands or in their cars.  (And no doubt there were a few who just went home, and then kicked themselves when BYU broke records - no team has run as many yards against Texas, and BYU has never run more yards than they did against Texas.)
I watched with awe if not some fear, those low storm clouds crossing from south to north, as did thousands of others that day.  There was a lot of damage, mostly in the Provo area, and one business I know of closed it's doors - too much rock slide damage and not enough insurance.

The Bishop then made these following points. In the top left of his picture (and no, I didn't find any others), is an area where there used to be a number of huge boulders.  Those boulders washed away, leaving behind a solid ridge crossing under the new falls.  It was there all along, of course, you just couldn't see it from the dirt and rocks that covered it before.  He said the stream had flowed gently in this area across a slight decline.  He also said the log bridge totally disappeared from the force of the water flow that night.  I did find this picture of the bridge:

If I remember correctly, this was three logs wide and built as an Eagle project a lot of years ago, and then the slats across the top of them added years ago later.

He talked about how the lay of the land is altered forever, and how the new falls are sounder than what was there before because all that's left is the solid limestone ridge for the water to cascade off of.

Then he talked about the trials that will come to all of us and we made a list, and how our faith needs to become as a limestone ridge so it can't be swept away.

Quoted Psalms: "Be still and know that I am."  How we need to bring ourselves back to that stillness so we find out who He is and what He is about.  Reminded me of when my Dad was on his hospital deathbed and counseled me to develop "a" personal relationship with Jesus Christ.  I was in the throes of my early conversion exuberance and thought that was an odd thing he thought I needed that.  What he meant was "MY" personal relationship with Christ, not just "a" relationship, and as in all relationships, it either withers or grows.  And then over the years of my life, trials came and that relationship grew - almost in tandem - the "worse" the trial the bigger/better opportunity for growth.

What are some of those trials (the list)?  Old age, illness, caregiving, death, judging self/others, family member choices, life's pressures/stresses, finances, loneliness, depression.

You are not another's savior ... nor are you your own.  Your cannot save yourself nor anyone else.  
He quoted Richard G. Scott:
     There is an irrigation analogy normally used in the Church of “getting the water
  to the end of the row.” would be far simply “let it rain” from heaven.

Your relationship with God/Christ is what will give the faith to endure to the end.  So do the work to achieve that.  Hold on. Stay strong. Draw close enough (through the stillness and obedience) you can sense what He wants you to choose.  Not what someone else wants you to choose or even what you want to (or even think you can't) choose.