Melancholy and sitting on a stone before the holler, under the Missouri winter moon, dusk into starlight; all the while, at my feet and scattered about, a thousand curious stones. I kick one and then whisper to myself,
“…but this is not lunacy. Why have all, but God’ creatures, abandoned me? I do hear them, and I see the battle of light and shadow amongst the trees. Why do the fallen gather here? Why, my Lord, am I seeing this? Was I not just to find it and protect it? Have I been chosen to open it? Please, is there no one else?”
It was then, between the unanswered questions, under the twilight of a golden dawn. God’ light cast the shadow, revealing a mystical artwork, a style that I had never seen before. The discovery was more than beautiful. It is God’ watchful eye gazing upon the one searching for the way.
Did I stumble, my Lord? Is this not the history of my people? This stone- all of these stones that were here long before the books were written and the shore painted with the blood of my children. Is this not the Sacred Knowledge that empowers my people and reconnects them with the Great Spirit. Is this not the history of my people? -Ancient Lamanite Prophet
Thank you, God.