The Hard Way/The Idaho Poem

The following are two poems Trevor wrote last week, that he felt he needed to send. 
Hope you enjoy! 

Written November 15, 2016

The Hard Way

By Trevor J. Wells

I often wonder why this is the road I take

I drop to my knees every time I awake. 

I've had to learn the hard way, my whole entire life

Beaten with false hope, pain, and stricken with strife.

Of the many many paths all of which I could go,

The hardest one is the one I will always know.

Of tribulation I've seen, the pathway was bare,

There was No sight of help, or a sign, only snare. 

The abyss seeped in, but I came out alive,

Because for the light, I knew I could strive.

I turned to the sky, neither right nor left,

Only up and to God, the direction Jesus wept.

I only wanted it done, I just wanted out

But looking back, I knew what these trials were  about.

I always took a rough path, studded with sharp stones,

Halfway through I'd be battered, beaten to the bones.

 I made it through to the end of each path, the top of each hill

Only To see many more and more, my life would be filled.

As I prayed along the way, my heart poured out to my God,

I knew that He'd hold out His hand to help me along.

He loves me, is why I travel the much harder way,

He taught me to ask, to seek, to find, and to pray.

The easier path would not have taught me much at all,

On that path, there would be no reason to call.

I came to the end of each steep, stony trail

Thanking my Father for extending an iron rail.

I held to it fast, eyes closed, pushing on through

Because I know through Christ, all things I can do. 

Philippians 4:13

The IDAHO Poem

By Trevor J. Wells

Mountains, highways, trees, and small towns

The place where REAL spuds grow in the ground.

A river runs through the southern part,

There's only one place that holds my heart.

The Broncos play ball on their true blue field,

When you breathe in, the western air becomes real.

From Bonners Ferry to Jackpot, and all the way in between 

The winters will be white, the springtime will be green.

There are purple mountains in their majesty to the south of my home,

Little hamlets and big cities, from east of Boise, out to Bone.

There's a city of rocks, a river of snakes, And a Taco Bandito

The coyotes howl, and a thousand or two of the rare mosquito

The pioneers came on through, and settled on down

Whether they thrived or became just like a ghost town.

There's a few Mormons here, a catholic there, 

And we all come together for a big county fair. 

Butch Otter and Bruce Willis, the famous people and the not quite so,

In the Rockies, We live and we breathe and we bleed and we grow.

though some come real close, nothing feels quite like home

Than the western, mountainous gem of old Idaho. 

As dry as it gets, or as stormy as can be

This funny shaped state like one big family.

Call it Idahome if you will, we accept it as such,

There's only one place that we love so darn much.

To me it's like heaven, no saint Peter, no big gate,

Just a lot of good people with their heads screwed on straight. 

I'll always go back there, to my home I'll always go. 

The greatest place on the earth is old Idaho. 

Elder Trevor J. Wells

Canada Edmonton Mission

2 Nephi 31:20