A Christmas Talk

 This Christmas season I have seen a vision. Not a real one, but one that I have conjured in my mind. 

The vision is from a long, long time ago. I am trying to remember it now. I was there and you were too. Here’s what I see.  

I see a small stable. 

Inside is a destitute family. The mother is worn from a long journey and bent over by the baby growing inside her. Her faithful husband, with hands that are hard and calloused and dirty, tries to soften the space for her. He acts as the pillar of strength in a dark, dark stable. 

It is hard to see. Light flickers from a few torches and candles. The penetrating darkness is so foreign to you and me; we live in a world of almost constant light. I try to make out what’s happening but my eyes struggle in the dark. 

The smell is not foul, but earthy from new hay and animals. The smell might be off for you and me, but it is the most common thing in the world to this family. 

You know the figures and their names. Mary and Joseph. There are others present – we do not know the names of those who attend to Mary, but they are good women. 

The stillness and quiet of the night are something we are strangers to, with our constant noise and commotion. But the stable it is so still, except for the small movements and noises of the animals who share this space. 

The baby is born. The sound of the first cry cuts through the night. If you’ve held a newborn in your arms, you know the sound – it is so desperate but so beautiful too. Life begins. 

Like all births it is messy. It is difficult. The pain borne by Mary as she delivers the yet unnamed baby, with no antiseptic, no pain killers, no epidermal, not even an aspirin – well, it’s as nature intended. But it is not pretty.

I can’t see the delivery, that’s private. Even Joseph has left. Not because he doesn’t love Mary, but because he is no help here. The women have taken over. Space is at a premium. But the women - they have all the experience and are there for the young Mary and her firstborn son. 

She holds the baby. He is simply perfect. The pain and suffering she has endured make way for the relief of holding his healthy, little self. He is cleaned and presented in cloth given by the women to keep him warm. 

She thinks, “He is Perfect!” She counts ten fingers and toes. She kisses his small tufted dark hair. She feels his warmth. 

He cries from the shock of it all. He has just come from a safe, warm, and comfortable place – fed and nourished by His Mother for the last nine months. The world he enters is dark. It is cold. It is hard. 

You and I know him as our Savior. He is here to bring light in the darkness, warmth to the cold heart, sanctuary to the hardship of life. His mission, which he will fulfill, is to bring hope to all.

But for now, he is just a baby without a name. Like so many babies before and after him. Just a baby. 

To his mother, he is her everything. She nestles him close to her, partly for warmth and comfort, mostly because she loves him with all her heart. She knows who he is and why he is here. She remembers what she’s been told. She has pondered the experiences she’s had, and she knows He is special. But tonight, he is hers. And she is in love.

The baby cries and coos and wriggles. She speaks softly to him. “My baby boy. My little baby boy. I love you, my boy. You are perfect to me. Can you hear me? Do you know me? I am your mother and you, my son.” The voice is familiar to him. He’s heard it these last months. It sounds different yet comforting. He sleeps.

That’s the vision I have tried to see this Christmas.

I love Christmas. The beauty of this season has so many layers. So many grand designs. Angels and stars, heavenly hosts and prophesies fulfilled. It is truly the most wonderful time of the year.  

But the means and manner of His birth are in themselves witnesses of God’s hand. God is sometimes hard to understand. His Son born in these most humble of conditions. It doesn’t make sense. Folks of lesser title and importance have had it much, much better. 

Yet, if you know God’s methods this is precisely the way he works. By small and simple things are great things brought to pass. It is his calling card if you will. And few have had a start as small and simple as the King of Kings and Lord of Lords. 

Today is December 26. I hope you have all had a very Merry Christmas. 

But starting today things will change. The holiday lights will start to be turned off. The music will change. The jolliness of the season will diminish. 

Yet, the hope of this first night – the night when the journey of the Atonement began – can remain with us if we let it. In fact, nothing is more important. 

This is the invitation to push aside the fatigue, frustration, and cynicism that wreak havoc that surround our lives. Make room in your life, your heart, and your mind for Christ. He is the hope of all nations, born for us. 

I love Jesus and hope you find him more in your life in the days and years to come. 

Whales and the Gospel

One day Melanie and I were walking out on the beach and I saw off to my right what looked like a whale's blowhole. Against the water and the far off islands it sort of just looks like a small white cloud but for a whale watching pro like me the tell is obvious - that's a whale. So we started paying attention and sure enough, whales. But not one. There were a few mothers/baby fathers there because the activity was pretty remarkable. We saw at least three whale breaches (when they jump out of the water) and lots of tails and fins. They were clearly having a little pod party. Equally cool were the baby whales popping out of the ocean. You can tell because their size is so much smaller, but they are cute. All of this was happening maybe 300-500 yards out, so it was pretty easy to see and I was totally jazzed. This is one of the reasons I love Maui, and it did not disappoint.

I wanted everyone who was walking on the boardwalk to see it. I kept stopping people who were walking by to point out the whales. A few people stopped, but others just said, "that's nice" and kept walking. Imagine, being too busy to stop and watch whales breaching? 

Upon further reflection it reminded me of the Gospel. Each day people walk by the missionaries or see members living their lives. They may even be invited to listen and learn. But so often - more often than not, they just keep on walking away. 

I would like to believe that if people knew the beautiful, life changing message you brought to them they would stop and listen. But most people simply don't. They don't care, or believe, or can't be bothered, or are in too much of a hurry to drink from the well of water of which you will never thirst, simply because they can't be bothered.

Weird experience.

I have to work outside due to Covid-19. It's not fun, but it keeps me healthy.

While running around the building to get some cardio I see a car driven by a guy that looks a lot like John Williams, MRM producer. I see the same guy, same car leaving a few mins later.

So I compose a quick email to John and say, "you in Kaysville?"

"Yes I am, heading to Costa Vida for lunch."

"Swing by, I'm in Barnes Park".

"I'm here, where are you?"

So I head over to Barnes Park and sure enough, there's John Williams.

But, it turns out the guy who I saw WAS NOT JOHN WILLIAMS. He was in Kaysville, East Kaysville picking up something he bought from a guy on KSL. So I saw his doppelgänger, emailed him, and he happened to actually be in Kaysville.

Crazy. One in a million.

Things that inspire me

A ship in harbor is safe, but thats not what it was built for.

If you are high on alcohol you're low on agency.

Do you build bridges or cross them?

I was thinking about my Mom, Melanie's mom, and so many others who struggle through their lives. There's an unfairness to suffering that doesn't jive with most people's sense of justice, including mine. As I've thought about this reality, I've also come to realize that some people build bridges, others cross them. 

People who build bridges are the ones breaking norms and challenging status quo. They make big, bold steps to change the direction of their lives. They break patterns, especially negative ones, with the intent or hope to realize a brighter future that they may never realize. They make sacrifices that they don't benefit from and plant gardens they don't harvest. 

I believe, for instance, that my mom is one such person. Her life has been one of struggle and challenge. She has never had money, support, or trusting relationships. She has battled poverty, health, the gravitational pull of sin, and trust. She has done it alone. Hers would be a sad story if not for the bridge she built.

It's a bridge built of faith. Faith that she wove into the fabric of her kids lives day after day, year after year. Faith that God would do something with her family that she was unable to do. Faith that her minor investments in her kids would realize a tremendous ROI. The best bet my mom has ever made was in God's ability to pay off a promise that if you "follow me, I will make you..."

It's a bridge built on trust. Mom never had a deep bench of friends or family to trust. Her relationships were challenged. Yet, she taught us to trust her and God. And was there when we needed her. 

It's a bridge built on love. My mom is imperfect. It's possible when listening to me talk about her that you may find her to be flawless. The reality is far different. She acknowledges freely and honestly her many flaws. But, love - unconditional, real, dirty, raw - love is something she gave us. It wasn't pretty, it wasn't always administered correctly. But, no one could argue that she didn't love us. 

If this is the bridge my mom built, that means I'm a bridge crosser. It is a lot easier being a bridge crosser. Less suffering, fewer problems, smoother tail winds. It would appear then that I have fewer responsibilities. Nothing is further from the truth. In fact, I may have much larger responsibilities because of my ease. Responsibilities like:

1) Multiply the blessings. One of my responsibilities is to do greater things and make my life, my family, the world at large better. If I fail to give back, I have failed the bridge builders.
2) Remember the bridge builders. It is so easy to take for granted that there's even a bridge to cross. We didn't see it built, we didn't suffer, we may not even notice it as we cross. But, if we forget those who worked for us we run the risk of failing. Consider the following.

In the Old Testament we learn about Bridge Builders and Bridge Crossers. It says:

10 And it shall be, when the Lord thy God shall have brought thee into the land which he sware unto thy fathers (the bridge builders), to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob, to give thee (the bridge crossers) great and goodly cities, which thou buildedst not,

11 And houses full of all good things, which thou filledst not, and wells digged, which thou diggedst not, vineyards and olive trees, which thou plantedst not; when thou shalt have eaten and be full;

And, then a final warning:

12 Then beware lest thou ^aforget the Lord, which brought thee forth out of the land of Egypt, from the house of bondage.

I revere my mom for helping build a bridge that can last for this life and eternity. I hope I cross it in a way that brings her blessings forever. 

Christmas poems and musings

I wrote this when I was about 21, recently returned missionary and living at home.

Twas the night before Christmas

And one little mouse

Was gathering his friends

To run through our house.

As they ate at our food and watched

And ran at our feet

I took in my hands

An old baseball cleat

As I watched them move to

I watched them move fro

With sweat on my hands

I let that shoe go.

Smack went the shoe

Against the mouse head

I laughed to myself

And hoped it was dead.

I looked at the corpse

Dead on my floor

And sat in my chair

Waiting for more.

This I wrote "A Hoarder's Christmas" within the last few years. 

‘Twas the night before Christmas,

And all through the house.

Lay a hot dirty mess,

Full of droppings of mouse.

The children were nestled,

In their beds oh-so-bare.

As they dreamt of the hoard,

And its mount of despair.

In the dark he appeared,

That big saint, Santa Claus.

He looked at the home,

Held his nose with a pause.

He peered down the chimney,

Down its sooty, black hole.

And knew in his heart,

This way he shant go.

The back door was jammed,

It simply was stuck.

Stacked with litter and trash,

Like an old garbage truck.

The windows were frosty,

Piles of junk strewn around.

Cobwebs in corners,

Food scraps on ground.

All around him was trash,

Up to his head, then some more. 

He stepped on the rubbish,

That doubled as floor.

Something moved under foot,

Mice running fast on the go.

He sprinted outside,

And yacked in the snow.

He wiped the mess off,

And composed him anew.

But heaved one more time,

This time it was stew.

Back in the house,

He went to the tree.

To leave lots of presents,

For this hoarding family.

He cleared off a space,

Under that scant little tree.

And laid the gifts down,

For all them to see.

The deed was now done

The toys delivered with care.

He picked up the cookie,

And milk they left there.

The cookie he lifted,

To his mouth he did press.

Not realizing that he,

Was standing in dog mess.

“That’s the last straw”

Said the humble, old man.

And he wiped off his boots,

With some rusty old can.

With a twinkle in eye,

He said with a nod:

“I can do nothing for them,

Have mercy, dear God.”

He jumped in his sleigh,

He shot off to the border.

And yelled as he left,

“Merry Christmas dear hoarders”

And finally, a fond memory from my mission.

One Christmas in Jamaica was particularly memorable. I was serving in the capital, Kingston, and was part of a threesome companionship with Elder Bird and Elder Binns. Jamaicans are lovely people, but they didn’t invite us to formal dinners often. Christmas was completely different. Weeks before members started asking us if we’d join them for Christmas. It was wonderful – except we had back to back appointments throughout the day and each one wanted to feed us. 

These weren’t small meals either. Each was a Christmas Feast, Jamaican style. Lots of fish, goat, chicken, delicious and prepared with lots of seasonings and love. As we went from house to house, they loaded up our plates and demanded we eat more. 

By the early afternoon, we were engorged and couldn’t eat a single bite more. Our next stop was at a lovely widow’s home. We told her when we made the appointments that we wouldn’t have an appetite and wouldn’t be hungry by the time we arrived, and she said she understood. But to our surprise, she had prepared a rich Jamaican dinner – curried goat, rice and peas, roti, veggies, and much more. She was poor, and this meal represented a great sacrifice.

But we were stuffed. We saw the food and said, “we really appreciate it, but we just aren’t that hungry”. She was furious! She demanded that we eat, and instead of offending her, we strapped on the feed bag and went to work.

Every morsel was pain. Eat bite was driven by force of will. We marched on, struggling to finish the Bataan Death March of food. 

The first to finish was Elder Binns. He leaned back in his chair, gloating. He sized up our still full plates and his own empty one. He knew he had finished the marathon first. And he let us know it.

“May I please use the bathroom”, he asked. Whether to purge or relieve himself, we never knew. The Sister escorted him away. 

As we watched him leave, Elder Bird and I sprang into action.

We took Elder Binns plate and began filling the void. Spoonful after spoonful, we replenished his supply. Truly, his cup runneth over.

When he returned triumphant, an entire plate of food awaited him. His reveling turned to misery as he faced the next trial. The ring of fire came soon after. 

In the end, it was a belly busting Christmas away from home. It remains one of my funniest mission memories. For me, it was a magical Christmas on a small island, far from home. 

The hunt

What happened yesterday. 

Maddie texted me furiously around 4 PM. DAD DAD DAD DAD PICK UP YOUR PHONE DAD DAD DAD. 

Ok.

Tom Holland was in SLC. Somewhere. And she wanted to find him. So we tried. Walked the streets, popped in here or there (mostly hotels and restaurants). Decided our best bet was to try his Hotel. Drove to Grand America where we found a bunch of young ladies waiting for a glimpse. So we jumped into that fray, waited a bit, and...went home. So we tell people that we say Tom Holland ... 's Hotel. Pretty exciting. But, I'm glad to be able to support Maddie and it was a fun Dad Daughter moment. 

Biggest wins. 

See above. Won some Dad points (maybe). 

What lessons did I learn. 

Choose to do stuff that means something. I could have gone home and crashed (what I wanted to do). But running around SLC with my Baby. That's worth a lot to me. 

What am I thankful for right now. 

I did something today I've never done - a pullup. Make that a 1/2 pull up. But guess what? Without a 1/2 pull up you are not going to get to a full pull up. And for that, I was excited. 
What am I feeling right now.

Yawn. 

What did I read or hear. 

??

What can I do to move forward on my goals

??

It's always day one

What happened yesterday. 

I am doing a good job this week with the goal that I have: to write down what I eat. With few exceptions I did so yesterday (I'm looking at you, Protein Brownie). Wasn't perfect in execution, but the goal was to write so I did. 

Had a great time last night with the Priests playing ultimate frisbee. Great group of kids. Spent time afterwards with the Bishop - it is his last week and we acknowledged him and that was nice. 

Biggest wins. 

Cranked out two resumes for students who needed help, and needed it fast. Was interesting b/c I was able to hopefully re-position them (they are athletes, so have good stories but no experience). Felt nice to do something nice. 

What lessons did I learn. 

It's more important to tell the right story than to fit that story into a template. There are many ways to tell stories, and by the very nature of the art, there is flexibility in how you get there. 

What am I thankful for right now. 

Two things: had a nice rest, let my body recuperate from a busy day + working out. When it tells me to rest, I do it. Also, went to the Dentist. My teeth aren't perfect but by golly they get the job done. And it's a blessing to go to the Dentist and get your teeth cleaned!

What am I feeling right now.

Still a little slow, embracing that as my current reality but not stressed about it.

I have a tendancy to railroad people - have done this a little bit at work and need to improve. 

What did I read or hear. 

Nothing of note. 
What can I do to move forward on my goals

Need to help Doug communicate with Sam and Brian what's going on with NY, how we see it, and how they can help. 

That thing called journaling

What happened yesterday. 

Two things of note. First, had my class. Really great content by Brandon Both who unpacked brilliantly Jobs to do. Spent some time on something I'm really passionate about - career narratives. Was interesting and reminded me of my own need to refine by story.

Also, Noah smartly asked Abby to homecoming. Very cute, he's a wonderful young man. Really proud of those two.

Biggest wins. 

Had great 1:1s with my team. Very blessed to have smart, committed, and humble strategists working with me. Reminded them that these seasons don't last, so enjoy them. Harkens back to those few glorious years at MS with Margaret, Sarah, Sarah, Donna, and Woo.

Also, on my second day of counting macros. Did pretty well - it's a process that I need to be patient with. This week is about learning the system and tracking stuff, even if it is not pretty. 

What lessons did I learn. 

I had never heard anyone mention the idea of a career narrative (probably out there) but I liked the idea and am going to run with it. The idea that we are the storytellers of our career, our ambitions and desires. No one else can own it, no one else knows it. 

What am I thankful for right now. 

Really thankful for my team - see above. They make my job so much easier and together we are yoked in a common cause. 

What am I feeling right now.

Honestly, a little tired. It's been several months of slogging through at work, and you're finding yourself in a minor lull (think two days). When that happens, my body retreats.

What did I read or hear. 

Being the soundtrack nerd I am, I stumbled into a Hans Zimmer playlist that keyed me into some cool new songs that I've brought into my greatest hits playlist. Fun to have something new to inspire me.

Oh, and I listened to some great older conference talks. But now I've forgotten them :(

What can I do to move forward on my goals

It occurred to me that I need to really plan out Stratefex with Scotty, with a goal to earn $XXK in 2020. I'm thinking $10K, but will see what's possible.

So I just texted him for lunch to see what he thinks.

I see you

"I see you."

That's what I said today to a little bug that was on my path (or I was on his) this morning during my walk.

It got me thinking that maybe seeing is the first step towards love.

Seeing leads to caring

Caring leads to understanding.

Understanding leads to empathy.

Empathy leads to compassion.

Compassion leads to love.

Thoughts from the Cross

Yesterday I was provoked while in Gospel Doctrine by a conversation about the things that Christ said while on the cross. My thoughts below.

Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do. This could be exactly what it sounds like: Christ asking His Father to forgive the guards for their acts against His Son. But, I did have a thought that goes beyond this. I believe Christ and His Father were tethered at all times. They held each others mind in a way that we maybe we can't understand. In fact, I think that Christ sensed something in the mind of His Father - an anger or hostility to the guards. If that's the case, he could've been saying: Don't blame them, don't hurt them - it's not their fault. 

Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in paradise. Christ knew where he was going and He knew where the prisoner was going. Gives us clear view into Christ's understanding and support of the afterlife and Spirit World.

Woman, behold your son. Son, behold your mother. This is so much about His humanity. He reveals something many have: a deep love and compassion for His Mother and her welfare.

My God, My God, why have you forsaken me? God is with us and revealed so much in our despair and trials. In fact, I think we often find God in our trials. Given this, it is a cruel irony that in His moment of greatest need God is hidden from Him. This is probably something he's never experienced. In fact, he may have spent His entire life supported by His Father. But now, in his greatest agony, God the Father is gone. Not from a lack of love, but I think for the need of Christ to fulfill the Atonement on His own. 

I thirst. Two words, simple in utterance, but somber and painful. The pain and misery were unimaginable; and in this, he simply wants something purely human. Refreshing water.

It is finished. Something happened here; it's not that he's giving up, but that the Atonement is done. He's completed it and the work he was sent to do is done. 

Father, into thy hands I commit my spirit. Only he is able to give his Spirit up, and in this instance he gives his Spirit back to His Father and is gone. 

If, then

There's an interesting "if, then" statement in the Book of Mormon.

In Ether 12:27 it reads:

And if men come unto me then (added for context) I will show unto them their weakness. I give unto men weakness that they may be humble; and my grace is sufficient for all men that humble themselves before me; for if they humble themselves before me, and have faith in me, then will I make weak things become strong unto them.

I've been thinking about this verse and right now am stuck on that first line. 

Like most, I usually read over this scripture and jump to the bottom idea, "then I will make weak things become strong unto them". It's natural, that's the money maker (and worth further discussion in a separate blog post).

The first idea, "If men come unto me" is intriguing. Throughout the scriptures Christ invites us to, "Come unto me". It's an ongoing and eternal invitation from Christ that we accept, delay, or reject throughout our lives. What does it mean? Many things: learning about Him, accepting Him as our Savior, making covenants with Him that signify our commitment, keeping His commandments, serving, enduring to the end. And more, and more, and more.

Why does this process of coming unto Him reveal our weaknesses.

It's like a picture. From a distance, it's perfect and clean. It's hard to see any flaws. But, upon closer inspection defects are shown. 

Take the picture on my desktop. It's a beautiful picture of my daughters in Hawaii, with them in the forefront, the beach and ocean in the back. At first glance, it's stunning. But, look closer. There are some chunky people in the background playing in the ocean. The light and color on their faces is not perfect. On the far off island in the back are wind turbines. 

As we draw closer to Christ, His light reveals to us our weaknesses and flaws, even those we have tried so very hard to disguise and cover up. The closer we are to Him, the greater the light, and the more apparent the flaws. C.S. Lewis said, "It is when we notice the dirt that God is most present in us; it is the very sign of His presence." That dirt really comes into focus as we draw closer to Christ. 

But, I don't think he intends for this to be debilitating and destructive. I do not believe His intention is to make us anything but humble. Pliable. Open to His constructive molding. 

C.S. Lewis said, "True humility is not thinking less of yourself; it's is thinking of yourself less." As we draw closer to Christ, the point isn't to wallow in our weaknesses, it's to celebrate the light of Christ that makes us strong. Instead, He wants to snuff them out.

One last note to reflect on.

A warning

I wrote this as a fun poem to get my family excited for our trip to Las Vegas. 

So you are coming Vegas?

How fun, how swell, how neat!

Your hungry Klowny is ready,

For buffets of yummy, fresh meat!

Kathy is my dear; my most favorite!

Her love for me is quite enough!

She I will preserve as my fair lady,

By stuffing her corpse with some fluff.

John is quite a little runner,

With him never a quiet or a lull.

So cooking up his juicy leg meat,

Will surely make Klowny feel oh so full.

Mike is known as a deep thinker,

No meat on that skinny ‘lil frame.

So feasting on Mike must always begin,

By dining on his juicy full brain.

Jacob is not coming, oh dear!

Probably better for me that way.

He’s so strong and so muscular,

He’d crush me and ruin my day

Buddy, now there’s a ‘lil fatty.

Roasting nicely on a spit like some pork.

His belly will taste so good and yummy,

As I stick him with my big pitchy fork

Nate, what a great old big softie.

So kind, so loving, so sweet!

Makes cutting into his liver,

Able to produce delicious, red meat.

Mary, oh so kind and so gentle!

She’s known for having a big heart.

Which is why when I grill it for dinner,

For my feast it will be a great start.

Beth is so smart with her skin.

Lotions and creams, how they make it shine!

Which will make it so much nicer,

When I wear it as a coat over mine.

I think that’s it my old dearies,

Can’t wait for you all to arrive!

You’ll expect it to be a fun vacay,

But none will escape me alive.

I anxiously await your arrival,

Already sharpening my knife!

And setting the table for dinner

Ready to take eight Kennedy lives.

We can complain...

We can complain that rose bushes have thorns or rejoice that bushes have roses.