http://www.7cmm.org/ Bruce R. McConkie 7 Christs ,the 7 Christs as known by the Christian world, the TRUE MORMON CHRIST
http://www.soulcast.com/welljoe-lds/ about Live Long And Strong, this has the above link in it
http://deseretbook.com/mormon-life/news/story?story_id=1261
Surviving Columbine: Amber's Story by Amber Huntington and Liz Carlston (Editor) February 13, 2004 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Available from DeseretBook.com Surviving Columbine: How Faith Helps Us Find Peace When Tragedy Strikes by Liz Carlston On April 20, 1999, the unthinkable happened. Two student gunmen entered Columbine High School and terrorized their fellow students and teachers—actions which shocked the world and forever changed the lives of those who lived through it. In a new book, Surviving Columbine, three LDS students who were there share their experience and what they have learned about life and their faith. The following article excerpts some of Amber's story, a senior who was hidden under a table in the library during the half- hour the shooters spent there. hen people ask me, "What did you do in high school?" all I can really say is that I went to school. I wasn't overly involved in activities. The only football game I ever went to was the homecoming game. I liked school and enjoyed my courses and teachers, especially my science classes. I got pretty good grades, although I know I could have gotten higher marks if I had tried a little harder. But I was shy, and I rarely spoke up in class. For me the hardest part of high school was my timidity. It seemed that my shyness always got in the way of things I wanted to do and how I wanted to be. I didn't feel like I was the person I could imagine myself being—the person I felt I was inside. Slowly, I started making changes during my senior year. I went out with my friends more on the weekends, I had a part-time job, and I was less afraid of meeting people. I enjoyed spending my senior year with my brother, Michael, who was a freshman. My social successes were due in part to my active religious life. My family was very involved in our church, and I had many friends who were also members. Through the Church, I fulfilled many of my social needs. We had activities every week and dances on the weekends. I was having fun being a social person and started to feel that I could actually handle college. College was going to be an escape for me, a chance to be the person I wanted to be in high school but never was. A lot of growth took place my senior year, and I was looking forward to the future. I went to England in March of 1999 with my AP English class; I had saved my money for a whole year for the trip. That trip was the highlight of my year; it made it worth it to me to have tagged all those clothes at the dry cleaners after school. After the trip, the school days seemed to pass by more slowly. I was ready to be done. During the week of April 19, I was looking forward to a party our English class had planned to celebrate Shakespeare's birthday on Friday, April 23. We were each to make a cake and decorate it with our favorite Shakespearean scene; then we would share the cakes with our schoolmates at lunch. If I could just endure my potentially dull week until Friday, all would be well. I woke up Tuesday, April 20, at 6:00 A.M., turned off my alarm, and decided I would rather sleep than go to school that day; after all, nothing important was going on until Friday, and my mom would call me in sick. The truth was that I was sick—sick of going to school. I had been going to public school for twelve years, and I felt I deserved a day off. I went back to bed. I woke up again at 6:50 A.M. with a strong impression that I needed to go to school that day. The impression was so strong I couldn't go back to sleep. The thought that I really needed to talk to my friend Jessica (I called her Jess) kept running through my mind. I didn't know why I needed to talk to her. I just had this unbelievably strong feeling that I had to go to school to speak with her. Fully awake by then, I got dressed and ready in time to make it to my first class. I had four classes before I could meet Jess in the library. I was a student assistant librarian during the first lunch period, and I often visited with Jess and her friends before and after my shift. I hoped that by being early I could get a word in with Jess before the librarians assigned me my work. When I walked in, however, I saw I already had a stack of books to shelve, and it was apparent I wouldn't be talking to Jess any time soon. I would just have to catch her after lunch was over. I didn't want the librarians mad at me for talking instead of working. I picked up my books and began shelving. After fifteen or twenty minutes, I had a strong impression in my mind that I needed to talk to Jess right that very moment. The feeling was so overpowering I couldn't wait. Glancing at the librarians' desk I noticed, odd as it was, that I couldn't see any of them around anywhere. Now was my chance. I motioned to Jess at her table, and she joined me in between the bookshelves. The librarians were gone, so we were free to begin our conversation. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- About five minutes after Jess and I started talking in the library, we heard loud noises coming from outside the building. Most of the students ran to the windows to see what was going on, but we thought it was just construction and continued our chat. Not long after, though, the art teacher, Mrs. Nielson, ran into the library screaming, "Some kids have guns!" "What? That can't be true!" Jess and I said to each other. We agreed it must be a stupid senior prank. But the look on Mrs. Nielson's face and the tone of her voice as she talked to a 911 operator made my heart start to pound. My mind was in total shock, and I could feel the adrenaline running through my body. I grabbed Jess's arm, thinking we could escape out the back door of the library. All I could think about was getting out of the school. But Mrs. Nielson had received instructions from the operator and screamed at us to get under the tables. She kept screaming until everyone was down. Even though I felt we should flee, we noticed a senior girl motioning frantically for us to join her under a table. Jess and I ran to the table, which was in the middle section of the library but toward the back. We lay under the table, waiting, not knowing what to expect and totally bewildered and anxious. Moments later, we heard the first gunshots from inside the school as the gunmen stormed the halls. I suppose that was when they found Mr. Sanders in the hallway near the library. People started screaming, but we all stayed under the tables. I was having trouble actually believing anything was real until the gunmen entered the library and I heard their voices. Then realization hit and my shock deepened. As the gunmen entered the library they asked, "Are you guys scared?" Of course, I said to myself. What kind of a question is that to ask? Maybe this wasn't real. Maybe it was just a cruel joke, and they were going to let us go. I was wrong. It was all too real. They said, "Well, don't be, because you are all going to die anyway." No! I thought amidst the cries and screams I heard from all sections in the library. I don't want to die. No! I understood clearly how serious their intentions were, although it was still a shock to my brain. Where are the police? I thought. It seemed forever since Mrs. Neilson called the 911 operator. There are usually campus cops around. Why don't they come in and help us? What are we going to do now? This is serious! I wasn't sure how many students were in the library, but I knew we were trapped. Our attackers, heavily armed, stood between us and both sets of doors. We could neither fight nor flee. We were completely defenseless and at the mercy of two very unstable, inhumane individuals. There was someone who could help. I was extremely scared and my body trembled with shock, but I knew Heavenly Father could aid me. I held the hands of the other girls under our table and began to pray aloud. The moment I began my prayer, I felt an instant rush of peace, an emotion of calmness and warmth I never expected to feel in a situation like that. I pleaded with my Heavenly Father. I remember my exact words: "Dear Heavenly Father. We need help. Please help us. I am so scared. I don't want to die. Please help us." His Holy Spirit told me, "You are not going to die, but you have to endure this. You are not going to die. Just hold on." Although I wished more than anything that I could be instantly transported out of the library, I had faith in my Heavenly Father and I trusted in his promise to me. From under our little table we heard countless shots ring out. I never realized gunshots were so loud, and I covered my ears. We heard bombs go off and the floor shook beneath us. I remember asking Jessica if those were really bombs and if we might fall through the floor. Everything was total confusion, and the chaotic sounds were intense. The fire alarm punctuated the fanatical ranting of the gunmen and increased the din. I wondered where the gunmen were because I could see so little from my place on the floor. I barely opened my eyes, afraid of what I might see. I could hear their voices throughout the library, but I wasn't sure what they were doing. The gunshots started to get louder, and I realized they were coming to our section of the library. Then the shots stopped as the gunmen came to our table and set their weapons on top of it. My heart was pounding. They were right above us. I could see their feet, only inches from my face. Our legs were sticking out from underneath the back of the table because it was impossible to fit all three of us under the table. All the muscles in my body tightened, especially my jaw and my arms. The whisperings of the Holy Spirit again filled my mind: "Keep your heads down, eyes closed, and be very, very quiet and still." I whispered this to my friends under the table. A lot of other people were crying and screaming, but we were quiet and motionless. The gunmen stayed above us, reloading their weapons and discussing their plans. My heart was pounding so loudly I was sure the gunmen would hear it and try to silence it. My brain was a whirl of confusion. Although I knew I wouldn't die, I was still scared I would be shot, and I tried to prepare myself for what it would feel like and what I should do. I remembered reading an article in a magazine about a girl who got shot in the back while at school. I remembered she said it felt like someone just punched her really hard. I thought maybe that wouldn't be so terrible. I closed my eyes again. Surely the gunmen could see us! But they seemed not to notice us. It was a miracle. I really believe that Heavenly Father protected us so that the gunmen didn't see us at all. Then another miracle happened. The gunmen left without finishing their plan to kill all of us. I didn't understand or care why they left or where they went. All I felt was extreme relief and joy as I heard students exclaim they were gone and we could leave. These were the longest and most terrifying minutes of my life. The room was clouded with smoke and the smell of gunpowder and other bitter chemicals. Finally I stood up and began to run. Unfortunately, I did not check the status of those around me, something I will always regret. I scrambled for the back doors at the far end of the library, following the other students, when I heard the Holy Spirit whisper to me once more, "Run! Keep your head up and don't look down. Just look towards the door and get out."I did keep my head up and never looked down. I am very grateful I followed the Spirit's directions, because I later learned that some of the most horrifying things that happened that day happened in the back section of the library. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- As soon as I left the school, I saw police officers surrounding the building and a squad car being used as a blockade. I joined my fellow students, who huddled behind the police car in front of the athletic fields and shed. The events in the library were so terrible and unexpected, I just couldn't process the situation. Kids everywhere were wounded, but the blood didn't even look real. I thought I might have been shot in the arm or somewhere else, since I felt numb all over, but especially in my arm. I was scared to look. When I finally got the courage to check my arm and the rest of my body, I was relieved to find that I hadn't been shot after all. Though I was physically okay, I grieved deeply for those around me lying on the grass crying. I began to wonder what to do. Other students were helping the wounded, taking off clothes and using them as temporary bandages. I wanted to help, but I couldn't get myself to move or think. So I just sat. Just when I was finally beginning to believe the ordeal was over, the police yelled at us to lie down on the grass as close to their car as possible. They thought the gunmen were on the roof, and the officers drew their weapons. My heart started pounding again as I lay on the bloodied grass next to my friends. I prayed that the policemen wouldn't fire their guns; I didn't think I could bear hearing any more gunshots. Thankfully, no more shots were fired, and the men on the roof were gone. More police cars came across the grass to transport the wounded students to Clement Park where they could be treated and taken to hospitals. Since I wasn't wounded, I had to wait. I understood I should be last, but it was hard to wait for my turn. I just wanted to go home. I watched the police cars leave with the wounded students packed in together. As I waited for my turn, a powerful thought entered my mind. My life would never be the same again, and I was scared to go back to my old routine. For a tiny second, I wished I could go back into the library and lie under my table forever. Going back to my old life seemed just as frightening as the whole ordeal I had just undergone. How could I face everyone now, especially my parents and younger siblings? I was breathing, I was grateful to be alive, but I felt my life was over. It was then that I realized I didn't know where my brother, Michael, was, and for the first time that day, I broke into tears. Like most freshmen, he had lunch in the cafeteria, and I was unsure what had happened in there. The police weren't sure if the danger was past, so they wouldn't let us go back into the school. Finally, a police car came for the rest of us, and we crowded in. I climbed into the trunk and we drove away. While all I wanted was to get away from the school, I didn't want to leave without my brother. If I could just find him first, then we could go. The police car stopped and we moved into a bigger police truck that was heading to Clement Park. The truck stopped abruptly and we all had to get out. I suppose the police needed the truck more somewhere else. I stayed with two other students: the senior girl who had been under the table with me in the library and another girl who was injured and bleeding heavily from her stomach. We stopped in a field somewhere in the park. The injured girl laid down in the grass, and a fireman ran over to her and did what he could to stop the bleeding. He told us to turn our heads, but I wanted to see. A teacher and a policewoman arrived in a golf cart. The fireman told the teacher he was going to get someone to take the girl to the hospital, and they stayed behind. The policewoman received instructions from her radio and told us to follow her. The officers weren't sure where the gunmen were, and we had to be careful as we moved through the park; our ordeal was still not over. We ran and hid behind a vehicle in the park. She told us to get behind the tires as she drew her gun. I cried uncontrollably as the reality of the horrible event set in. I wondered if Jess or any of my other friends were injured. I wondered if people had really died back there in the school. I remembered seeing a boy lying on the sidewalk just outside the cafeteria, but I thought he would get up and move. I hoped he did. The policewoman got another report on her radio that the gunmen might be running through the park, so we hid again. The policewoman told us not to worry, if she saw them, she would shoot them. After learning the report was false, we took off running to the end of the park. The policewoman followed us with her gun still drawn. Maybe now it was over. There were so many police officers and helicopters surrounding the school, maybe someone had finally put an end to it. A car driven by the school's librarians stopped, and we got in. Since many of the roads were blocked, I couldn't go home yet. We drove over to the house of the girl who had been with me under the table. Her parents were anxiously waiting for her; it made me cry harder just watching them hold each other. I realized I needed to call home, but I was afraid to. I'm not sure why. My mom picked up the phone and I said a couple of times, "Is that you?" and "Is Mom there?" She was crying and I didn't recognize her voice at all. Maybe she was afraid to answer the phone, hoping it was her children but fearing it might be a police officer. I asked if she had heard from my brother, Michael. She said she hadn't. I told her I knew he was in the cafeteria during fifth hour, but I hadn't seen him and I didn't know where he was. That was especially hard for me because I am the oldest child. I wanted to protect my younger siblings and be there for them. I told Mom that I didn't want to talk very long because I wanted to go find Michael. I couldn't really understand anything she said during that call. I guess she was just as confused and terrified as I was. Everything was so bewildering. It was like time had slowed down and I was moving in a dream. I knew I was there, but I felt like someone else. The news was on at my friend's house, and the reporters announced that all the Columbine students were gathering at Leawood Elementary so parents could locate their kids. I told the librarians I needed to find my brother, and they said they would drive me to the elementary school. Many streets were already closed, and we were routed past Columbine again; I had never seen so many police cars, fire trucks, ambulances, and helicopters gathered in one place before. Their presence crushed my lingering hope that this whole thing might not be some major tragedy where people actually died. I recall saying, "As long as nobody dies, I think I will be okay." -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The librarians dropped me off outside Leawood Elementary. It was chaotic; there were police detectives, reporters, and counselors along with all the students, parents, and teachers. I saw some of my friends and rushed over to them. We held on to each other as we tried to make sense of the day and share our stories. One friend, Liz Carlston, noticed the blood on my pant cuffs. "Is that yours?" she asked. "No," I responded looking down toward my shoes. We were all asking questions of the people outside the elementary school, trying to learn where our families were and who was okay. Someone said they saw my brother, Michael, run out of the school, safe. Immense relief surged through my body. My brother was okay! My heart broke as I watched other families come to look for their children, only to learn they were in a hospital or still missing. It was too painful to watch, so I went inside the school, where I found more friends. I recall asking, "What are we supposed to do now—just go home?" By now, more police detectives were interviewing students, trying to find witnesses to the shootings. Since I was a witness, they escorted me to another room. As we walked down the hall, I saw my parents. It was almost like I didn't recognize them. I didn't know what to say or do. I gave them a quick hug and said I had to go with the detectives. They followed and waited for me as I was questioned and wrote down my statement. It was then time to go home. I didn't want to go, but I didn't know where else to go. My parents walked me out to the car, and I started telling them what happened. They looked at me in disbelief. They saw the blood on my pants. "It's not mine," I said. We got home around 6:00 P.M. I was tired and hungry since I hadn't eaten anything since breakfast, but I couldn't sleep or eat. I just sat in our family room and watched the news, trying to comprehend what had happened and if it really had happened. The news reports confirmed that some students had died, although they weren't sure about the number, maybe twenty- five, they estimated. Our phone rang nonstop as friends and relatives called wondering if we were okay. Some people wanted to talk to me, but I didn't know what to say. My brother came home around 8:00 P.M. He had stayed at someone's house across the street from the school until the roads were opened again and the school grounds were cleared. He walked past me, downstairs to his bedroom. I don't remember if we even said anything to each other; we couldn't even look each other in the eye. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I absolutely didn't want to sleep alone, but I also didn't want to sleep in my parent's room. I slept with my youngest brother, who was seven. It felt like the stars were falling down from the sky. I didn't know what was real anymore. I felt like my hopes and aspirations were smashed; all my ideas and visions were false. I didn't know what to think of what my world had become. My body and mind were exhausted. I fell asleep instantly, but dreamt about the whole day over again in its entirety, every detail. I woke up and knew it wasn't a dream. This was now my reality. This was my new life, a life in which I couldn't identify with the person from before. Without me even realizing it, an unfamiliar journey had begun.
http://deseretbook.com/mormon-life/news/story?story_id=1261
http://scriptures.lds.org/en/gs/f/1
Faith
GUIDE TO THE SCRIPTURES Faith See also Belief, Believe; Hope; Jesus Christ; Trust Confidence in something or someone. As most often used in the scriptures, faith is confidence and trust in Jesus Christ that lead a person to obey him. Faith must be centered in Jesus Christ in order for it to lead a person to salvation. Latter-day Saints also have faith in God the Father, the Holy Ghost, priesthood power, and other important aspects of the restored gospel. Faith includes a hope for things which are not seen, but which are true (Heb. 11: 1; Alma 32: 21; Ether 12: 6). Faith is kindled by hearing the gospel taught by authorized administrators sent by God (Rom. 10: 14-17). Miracles do not produce faith, but strong faith is developed by obedience to the gospel of Jesus Christ. In other words, faith comes by righteousness (Alma 32: 40-43; Ether 12: 4, 6, 12; D&C 63: 9-12). True faith brings miracles, visions, dreams, healings, and all the gifts of God that he gives to his Saints. By faith one obtains a remission of sins and eventually is able to dwell in God’s presence. A lack of faith leads one to despair, which comes because of iniquity (Moro. 10: 22). The just shall live by faith, Hab. 2: 4. Thy faith hath made thee whole, Matt. 9: 22 (Mark 5: 34; Luke 7: 50). According to your faith be it unto you, Matt. 9: 29. If ye have faith as a grain of mustard seed, nothing shall be impossible unto you, Matt. 17: 20 (Luke 17: 6). I have prayed for thee, that thy faith fail not, Luke 22: 32. Faith in Christ’s name hath made this man strong, Acts 3: 16. Faith cometh by hearing the word of God, Rom. 10: 17. If Christ is not risen your faith is also vain, 1 Cor. 15: 14. Faith worketh by love, Gal. 5: 6. By grace are ye saved through faith, Eph. 2: 8 (2 Ne. 25: 23). Take the shield of faith, Eph. 6: 16 (D&C 27: 17). I have finished my course, I have kept the faith, 2 Tim. 4: 7. Faith is the substance of things hoped for, Heb. 11: 1. Without faith it is impossible to please him, Heb. 11: 6. Faith, if it hath not works, is dead, James 2: 17-18, 22. I will go and do the things which the Lord hath commanded, 1 Ne. 3: 7. The Lord is able to do all things for the children of men, if they exercise faith in him, 1 Ne. 7: 12. The pointers in the Liahona worked according to faith, 1 Ne. 16: 28. Repent, and be baptized in his name, having perfect faith in the Holy One, 2 Ne. 9: 23. Christ works mighty miracles among the children of men according to their faith, 2 Ne. 26: 13 (Ether 12: 12; Moro. 7: 27-29, 34-38). Enos’s sins were forgiven because of his faith in Christ, Enos 1: 3-8. Salvation cometh to none such except it be through faith on the Lord Jesus Christ, Mosiah 3: 12. Hearts are changed through faith on his name, Mosiah 5: 7. The prayers of God’s servants are answered according to their faith, Mosiah 27: 14. Give us strength according to our faith in Christ, Alma 14: 26. Call on God’s name in faith, Alma 22: 16. Faith is not to have a perfect knowledge of things, Alma 32: 21 (Ether 12: 6). As it beginneth to swell even so nourish it by your faith, Alma 33: 23 (Alma 32: 28). Their preservation was ascribed to the miraculous power of God because of their exceeding faith, Alma 57: 25-27. As many as should look upon the Son of God with faith might live, Hel. 8: 15. I see that your faith is sufficient that I should heal you, 3 Ne. 17: 8. Faith is things which are hoped for and not seen, Ether 12: 6. All they who wrought miracles wrought them by faith, Ether 12: 12-18. If they have faith in me, then will I make weak things become strong unto them, Ether 12: 27-28, 37. Mormon taught about faith, hope, and charity, Moro. 7. Whatsoever thing ye shall ask the Father in my name, which is good, in faith believing that ye shall receive, behold, it shall be done unto you, Moro. 7: 26. They who have faith in Christ will cleave unto every good thing, Moro. 7: 28. If ye shall ask, having faith in Christ, he will manifest the truth, Moro. 10: 4. Without faith ye can do nothing; therefore ask in faith, D&C 8: 10. It should be granted unto them according to their faith in their prayers, D&C 10: 47, 52. All men must endure in faith on his name to the end, D&C 20: 25, 29. Justification through the grace of Christ is just and true, D&C 20: 30. The Spirit shall be given unto you by the prayer of faith, D&C 42: 14. Faith cometh not by signs, but signs follow those that believe, D&C 63: 9-12. Parents are to teach children faith in Christ, D&C 68: 25. Seek learning, even by study and also by faith, D&C 88: 118. Faith in the Lord Jesus Christ is the first principle of the gospel, A of F 1: 4.
http://scriptures.lds.org/en/gs/f/1
