Provo is a most amazing place. – at Provo West Stake Center

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Try To Be Somebody

Thanks for the inspiration, Ax

Alexa Merrill

On Monday, November 16, 1863, a fourteen year old in Rising Sun, Indiana began a journal that would allow her family, and many others a glimpse into her life that would never have been seen any other way. Living during the height of the Civil War, this girl wrote in her beloved journal almost everyday for nearly two years, with her entries consisting of music lessons, the weather, Aunt Lime’s birthday, and the death of President Lincoln: all significant parts of her life.

This fourteen year old girl was Alice Thorn, and she is my cousin.

The very first page of her journal, Alice wrote, “Try to be somebody.”
In four words, this young girl that I have never met has inspired me. Inspired me to become someone, someone to be proud of. Someone worth knowing about in the future, when my descendants are searching my journal. I want to…

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The Day The Son Did Not Rise

This morning, I was thinking about what was happening in the Savior’s life today, during Holy Week.

Today, is actually silent in the Gospels. Today is the daythe terrible events of Christ’s false trials, beatings, revilements and crucifixion and death, and His glorious, powerful and eternal resurrection. And, in light of our desire to get past the hard, scary and uncomfortable parts of he story and get on to the crescendo and climax of the story, I think we skip over this day.

Today is the day in the middle. The day where Christ did not rise.

Imagine the way it must have felt to Mary, Christ’s mother, or James, his half-brother, or Mary Magdalene, who was forgiven from deep sin, or to Peter and James who let their nets to follow him.

On that morning–Passover morning–they had to awake to a world that must have been suddenly and shockingly infinitely darker and lonelier for them.

  • Today was the day that the sun rose high on a world where, to them, there was no more Savior.
  • There was nothing more to look forward to, and everything they held on to had been lost.
  • They all had to wake up that morning, but Jesus, who they thought and felt and were sure was the Savior, was dead. He, who they followed daily for years, did not rise with them.
  • Today, the throngs of gawkers and onlookers were gone.
  • Today, hope was gone.
Of course, we know the end of this story. The weeping Mary Magdalene came to the tomb early the next morning mourning Him, and He had risen! He talked to her. He tenderly brought quiet peace and wonder to her. He had risen!

The end of this story is the glorious sunrise of the next day.

The next day, the Son rose.

And tomorrow, the sun will rise, too.

The next time you feel hopeless, alone, or in deep despair, remember that bitter, lonely morning for Jesus’ closest friends — the middle day– And do not forget that tomorrow, and the dawn, is coming.