Gordon B. Hinckley @ MindSay 
So, I went through a bit of a spiritual revival last night. I'm thinking very seriously about a patriarchal blessing, which is something I've thought about before, but it's never really seemed the right time. I thought very heavily about it last winter, for last winder was synonomous with awful, deep depression and apathy towards all things happy and religiously-oriented. Nevertheless, it didn't feel like the right time, so I just sat on those thoughts for a while.
Times is hard, and more to the point, times is confusing. I know a patriarchal blessing is given for help over the course of my entire life, but maybe, just maybe there will be something in there that will help me now. The heavens have been almost silent on my plight, unless I am to imagine that the choices I've made so far have been the right ones. I've been trying to live my life in accordance with the laws of the gospel, following the proccess for revelation, and still I feel forsaken, abandoned, left to my own faculties in a land of unknown and seemingly unknowable danger and trial. I know God is still with me, but where, Oh Lord? Where?
I also need to go to the temple. I've needed to for a long time, but since they reformatted reccomends, I never bothered to go in and get a new one. It would probably just be a matter of exchanging the old one for the new one, but I think I'll sit through an interview anyway. Some of my actions have been less than honorable in the recent weeks. Not so awful, not in contrast to the rest of my story that the bishop knows, but less than honorable nonetheless. If there's any chance that any of that will compromise my good standing, I'd much rather find out beforehand then carry out Baptisms for the dead unworthily. That's dumb.
Oh my gosh, I'm such a victim of Brother Johnson. "Don't tell me what your favorite color is; that's dumb." "Don't cheat; that's dumb." "Don't just read the chapter headings; that's dumb."
For the month of February, I'm going to reinstitute an adapted Gott PJ'S program, in honor of President Hinckley. Katie and I were talking...well...crying is more what we were doing, but we were remembering how much of an optimist he was. He had no misconceptions about the problems the world faced and the problems we face as youth in the church, but never was he afraid for the future. The future for him was a time of great hope and anticipation. In a final act of faith, he left the church in the hands of the younger generation, confident that we could carry on his legacy.
I feel like the torch is in my hands, even in my limited capacity. In the home teaching lesson I was giving even as the Prophet breathed his last breath, I spoke of Prsident Thomas S. Monson's comparison of Christ to the master bridge builder spoken of in the poem. What I gleaned from the artical is that we, as church members, can lay the foundation for the next generation, which will exceed our expectations in greatness and righteousness. We can have a profound effect, even if we can't grasp the enourmity of it. Just look at Christ! He ministered for three years with twelve of his friends in a geographically isolated area in the middle of Palestine. And yet, now, halfway across the world, you'd have to go thousands of miles in any direction to find someone that does not know the life and name of Jesus of Nazareth. Like Him, we can serve faithfully and have unimaginable effects for good in the coming days.
That's why I feel like I want to step it up a notch. I've got a mission coming up in less than a year now, if I choose to put in my papers at that time. That experience is going to be good, nay, great for me, regardless of my choices now, but I know I can make the transition easier and the experience more productive and beneficial if I can begin living life a little better now. I don't expect to change who I am completely, not overnight anyway, but I need to start taking my spiritual life more seriously. It seems that even My Prophet's death can be as meaningful as his life, even if only in this small manner.
He had incredible faith in me. I can't let him down now. I won't.
Goodbye, President Gordon B. Hinckley. Rest in peace.
President Gordon B. Hinckley died today.
Wow.
This man has done SO MUCH for the world in his time as our prophet. I remember, as a little child, walking through the great structure of the Mount Timpanogos Temple when it was built. I watched that great man dedicate the building as a house unto God. It was the forty-ninth temple to be dedicated in the latter days. That was twelve years ago. There are now 127 temples on six continents, making almost 2/3 of all temples in the latter days built in my lifetime, virtually all of them dedicated personally by President Hinckley. He engineered the church broadcasting system and has carried it on his back from its infancy. Thus, every General Conferance adress listened too and virtually every eternal ordainance performed for us and our dead are thanks directly to the Prophet and his divine calling.
He was 97 when he died, having to my knowlege spent no more than one night in the hospital during his earthly life. He died at seven P.M. As he breathed his last breath, I was knocking on the door of my neighbor's house, about ready to present her and her wonderful family a home teaching lesson on President Thomas S. Monson's message about following in the example of Christ. I learned of President Hinckley's passing as I got in my dad's truck to deliver the message a second time. Needless to say, the tone of the lesson changed from one instance to the next. He was my Hero, my greatest inspiration, and he will continue to be.
Above all of this, isn't it wonderful that he is now reunited with the love of his life? She died four years ago, and he has been tired and weary ever since. She was everything to him. In all their years of marriage, they never once uttered an angry word to each other. Tears fill my eyes as I imagine them again in each other's arms, now and forever. God rest their souls, and may we continue their great work on this earth today.