Monday, March 30, 2015

Alaska


ALASKA

Jordan Jensen


The desk feels hard beneath my elbows
And the screen strains my weary eyes
A minefield of spreadsheets, columns and rows
I think I'll go to Alaska

The fluorescent lights with their anesthetizing hum
And stale air react to form a toxic combination
A mind asphyxiated and senses gone numb
I think I'll go to Alaska

The tie, hung tight as a noose is cut free
I can hear the train beat against the tracks
Bringing coat, gloves, and scarf, or maybe three
I think I'll go to Alaska

The mountain cathedrals capped with white snow
Hues of green and aromatic pines permeate my senses
My bearing is fixed,  the compass set north to go,
I think I'll go to Alaska

The flannel and jeans feel warm on my skin
Howling with bears and wolves liberates
With gaze affixed and bristles on my chin
I think I'll go to Alaska

There the gal I will meet with pale blue eyes
Blond braid, flaxen as the golden seas
Calling the eagles and crushing boulders between her thighs
I think I'll go to Alaska

My time is up and I return from my fixation
Clacking and whirring of industrial machines
In a cell the greatest curse is imagination
Perhaps someday, I think I'll go to Alaska











Monday, February 11, 2013

A Life Built on the Foundation of Jesus Christ


A life of insecurity and unhappiness was never the intent of Heavenly Father’s plan for His children, but the longing eyes of failed hearts meet my own nearly everywhere I go. There is an essential truth that separates the whole from the infirm, that is, the principles of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. It is sound wisdom and a formula that equates to unfettered joy within the voice and words of the Savior when He proclaimed, “this is my doctrine, and whoso buildeth upon this buildeth upon my rock, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against them.” (3 Nephi 11: 39) The doctrine which Christ mentioned was something that I recited frequently as a missionary with “my Purpose” found in Preach My Gospel, however having been home for more than two years now, I have found how the simple but profound principles and ordinances of the Gospel empower and embed our lives in a foundation when applied to every aspect of life. Principles and ordinances of faith, repentance, renewing the covenant of baptism through the sacrament, and enduring to the end when not limited to our gospel studies or church service, become the means by which the empowering effect of Christ’s Atonement are applied. Through personal experience I have found this to be true and will thus illustrate. 
The world of the spiritual and that of the temporal were once separate in my mind. When I attended church, the teachings I gathered from Sunday school were less than perfectly appreciated as a teenager, but nevertheless understood. However, when considering my academic studies, relationships with friends, and hobbies, those teachings rarely were implemented as tools for success in any degree unless a moral dilemma was reached. Moral dilemmas such as how to react when brother was an annoyance or restitution to be made after a lie had been fessed up to. This was an application of gospel teachings, but not deeply harnessing their power—like roasting a marshmallow over a bon fire, the mallow surely would be toasted, but so much heat and energy dissipated with no real application for productivity. In time, I learned that due to the loving nature of man’s relationship with Heavenly Father, His concern for us extended much further into personal matters spiritual and secular.
A menial but true example is from my juvenile years on my school’s swim team. Standing on a start block in a crowded, noisy indoor pool, an official in drill-sergeant style sequestered the PA system and instructed us to stand in place. As a rather lurpish and awkward teenager, I already felt somewhat ridiculous bending over in a very restricted competition-type swim suit, and this in combination with the pressure for team approval caused my heart to accelerate to the point of nearly bursting from its dwelling within my chest. As the long whistle drew out to call us to starting position, I exhaled and uttered a silent prayer that, “everything would be alright.” Within that moment a calm and confidence washed over me as my heart settled into an acceptable pace. It was unmistakably the Comforter sent from heaven above. But why? The magnificent and powerful Creator of the skies and earth surely had more meaningful things to do than to comfort a gangly teenager trying to finish his race. No, He certainly made time, even for something so common as a swim meet. Faith was His only requirement, and that in itself was for my own benefit. So it is the interaction with a man’s family, education, career, social pursuits, and callings within the church. A man who builds his life upon principles of faith, seeking forgiveness when imperfect, and holding fast to the promises to live God’s laws is built upon a sure foundation, “a foundation whereon if men build, they cannot fall.” (Helaman 5:12)  We remain God’s most precious creation, His offspring and ultimate joy. By the loving sacrifice of His Son Jesus Christ, man is made perfect. My family life and science career surely require His assistance and by the testimony of the Holy Ghost within me, I know that his aid is extended so long that we reach for it. 

To Learn More about the Gospel of Jesus Christ, Please Visit: 

Thursday, July 26, 2012

Summer Days, Hot Nights


I woke up this morning feeling anxious. I reflected and reflected on the transactions of the previous day, week, then month and I was unable to determine the cause of my remorse.  I went to the lab and a had a few good chats with my mentor/Professor about the research (which currently remains on hold due to the slow nature of the sequencing center) Afterwards the anxiety persisted so I felt it best to go the Temple. I believe most problems can be sorted out by taking the time to serve in the quite peace that permeates temples and sure enough it worked this time as well. I did initiatory and at one point I became so lost in thought that the temple worker had to kindly invite me to the next booth. I do not know if it was the complete cause of my grief, but I determined that I had dealt dishonestly with my fellow man. No one in particular, but with the BYU traffic/police. Previously they have been my arch-enemies due to the magnitude of fines incurred from their tyranny, but never-the-less I still needed to abide by man's laws even if they weren't detailed specifically from the mouth of the prophets. 

To summarize, a few months ago I thought my next to worthless bike had been stolen from my driveway. Recently I received a letter from BYU that the bike had been recovered and impounded and that I would need to pay a $20 fee to retrieve it. Through much weaseling, i managed to convince traffic services to drop the fee due to my believing it to be stolen. Upon receiving my bike, I noticed that the lock had not been tampered with--telling me 2 possible hypotheses; a.) the thief was a brilliant master-mind who made his fortune by picking the locks on crummy bikes and then abandoning them on BYU campus OR b.) that I had accidentally left the bike on campus while in a stupor of thought after a grueling day of study and that no foul-play had been involved (besides my own).  While in the temple, I determined it to be the latter and felt morally obligated to tell the truth and pay whatever consequence it would incur. 

This is where mercy is extended--undeserved. As I explained my plight to the surprisingly kind ladies at traffic services, they sincerely commended me for my honesty and decided to forgive my debt. I was trying to preform the restitution part of the repentance process, but perhaps Heavenly Father understood how much of a destitute wretch I am as a college student trying work his way through school. Nevertheless, I felt much better after the experience and proceeded with my day. How happy is the soul who repenteth indeed. Perhaps I'll use that $20 to take a nice young lady on a date and hopefully meet my future wife in the process. 


-Jordan D. Jensen