A Late Bloomer

So, here I am, preparing to become a Father for my first time, at the age of 47! I know most of you that I know are becoming Grandparents and that blows me away to think we are of that age. I still feel way too young to even think of being a Grandparent. I am sure after my daughter (and hopefully other children to come) comes into my life and begin to grow I will me more prepared for that title. But for now I look forward to becoming  and to be called "Daddy". I get excited thinking about that!

As I have looked back on my life I see that I have been a late bloomer in a lot of areas of my life:

-I was baptized when I was 21.
-Went on a mission when I was a month away from my 24th birthday.
-Went back to school, because I dropped out in 10th grade, and received a High School diploma, not a GED, at the age of 26.
-Started college when it was called UVCC, then UVSC and is now UVU. It took my 12 years to get an Associates of Science degree. I was 38.
-Joined the Utah Army National Guard when I was a month away from my 40th birthday. What the heck was I thinking!!! I'm still in much better shape then most of those young computer, video playing, couch potato kids are.
-Get married when I was 41.
-I am headed back to college to be what I have always wanted to be but wasn't ready to be it, a Family and Child Therapist. I will receive my BA when I am 49 and a Masters when I am 51.
-And now at 47 I am going to be a Daddy.

Can I be a late bloomer to anything else?

Despite the lateness of events happening in my life I know they all happened at the exact time that  I needed them to. I still feel like a teenager, mostly because I don't know what an adult man feels like and is suppose to be like. There aren't many men that I want to be like. The only Man I am working on becoming like is Jesus, and that won't happen in this life but I keep working at it.

My moto is : "I am to young to be old". As long as I keep living the way I have that has kept me healthy this long, I will be able to keep up with my kids and enjoy their lives with them as an active parent that will provide opportunities for them that I have been blessed with.

"Behold Your Little Ones"

I've learned to pay attention to my dream because they are telling me something about myself and my life. There are some dreams that really stand out and stay with me so I give them extra attention. For instance, I had a dream about three little little girls that came through what looked like to me a plastic opening, like the kind that is on a shell on a truck that you zip to open and close it. They had come through one at a time. As I pondered that dream I came to the conclusion that they had been coming through the veil that is between Heaven and Earth. It is the same veil that we all came through to come here.

I had known even when I wasn't married that I would have children in this life. This dream came to me after I was married. To me the dream was telling me that my wife and I would have three girls all of which hadn't come to earth yet. I held on to that dream for years waiting for it to come to pass. Even after Lynsie had a hysterectomy I still knew children would come to us, it was just a matter of time.

Another dream: I dreamt of the name Andrea. That is weird dreaming of a name! I liked the name instantly because it started with the letter "A" like mine does. After I prepared breakfast I did what I usually did when I ate, I turned on the TV to my favorite channel, ESPN. As I watched and listened I realized the Sportscaster's name was Andrea. I thought, "This is interesting!". There was a reported out in the field doing some story that Andrea was turning the time over to, her name...........Andrea. Really?! Now if that isn't a sign I don't know what is so I went with it.

So now I know that one of my girls is going to have the name Andrea. Now what will her first name be? Andrea had to be her middle name because I want her initials to spell a word like mine do RAP. Lynsie's initials are LAP. So naturally we needed a first name to keep this going.

Many years ago I met a girl named Lenna in the BYU 10th ward that we both attended. We became good friends and stayed that way even after she died in 2002 from bone cancer. We had one of those friendships that didn't start here on earth, we just continued it and we will continue it into the next life.

One day while at the Provo Temple Lynise asked me all of these questions about Lenna. Lynsie didn't even know her so I didn't understand why she was asking so many questions so I asked why. She said because Lenna is in her head. I said "Listen". Lynise felt that our daughter's name should be Lenna. I couldn't think of a better name! So now we have another LAP.

A month later Lynsie and I are in the Provo Temple again sitting in the Celestial Room. I have the scriptures in hand doing my random scripture opening and pointing to a verse beleving what I read is what Heavenly Father is saying to me. I am about to stop when I hear Him say "One more. Turn to 3 Nephi 17:23". I do and it reads "And he spoke unto the multitude, and said unto them: Behold your little ones". I knew what it meant because I have known for years that "little ones" would be coming. I tucked it away in my mind knowing it would come to pass when the time was right.

Later that evening we received a call from a dear friend whom I have known for over 10 years. She is a  single mother of four beautiful children that I have known for the same amount of time. My friend said she wanted to talk with Lynsie and I on speaker phone. Already knowing what the call was about but not knowing what was going to be said, we listened intently trying to keep an open mind. She informed us that her 19 year old daughter had chosen us to adopt her baby girl. All we could do was smile and express words that felt too small and meaningless to truly convey what we were really feeling.

You have blessed our lives in a way that we never could. For that you are a Savior to us. You made it possible that our family and name will continue for at least another generation. You gave the greatest gift to us that you are able to, yourself and your blood. Our lives wil forever be intertwined, as if they haven't already but now it will be forever.

We love you! But more than that, Heavenly Father loves you for making the greatest sacrifice a parent can make, the giving of a child's life to others. HE knows how that feels. And now so do you.

I Can Do Hard Things!

The title of this post was the theme of a LDS Trek I went on from 30 July to 3 August 2012. What is a Trek you ask? Well let me give you a brief history.

The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, or the Mormon Church was established on 6 April 1830. Even before this time Joseph Smith was being persecuted because a vision he had seen of God the Father and Jesus Christ and because of the gold plates he was given for a short time to translate into The Book of Mormon. The persecution became even greater after the Church was established. The Saints were forced to move from state to state until the violence against them became so bad that the only way they were going to be able to worship Heavenly Father and Jesus was to go West out of the then known United States.

Years before this Joseph Smith had seen a vision where the Saints would be able to worship in peace and as they pleased in the rocky mountains of the west. Many of the Saints had already migrated west to Utah starting in 1847. In 1856 a group of Saints joined with a man named James G Willie who led the fourth handcart company which was one of the two that was stuck in present-day Wyoming in the late autumn and early winter and had many members die from freezing and starvation.

To Latter Day Saints the sacrifices and sufferings and deaths of those Pioneers that lost their lives on these treks holds great meaning. These Saints were willing at all costs to cross the plains to Utah where Zion had been established, where they would be able to worship in peace along side others that believed as they did. 

To commemorate and get an idea what those Pioneers went through my Stake (a Stake is an area that has a certain amount of Wards or congregations) went to Wyoming where many of the Saints died in 1856 and where they were eventually rescued, for a four day trek.

I won't go into details about each day of the trek because I already wrote all of that in my journal and there are 15 pages on it. Maybe I will write about other experiences here and there but not all together in one blog because you probably wouldn't read all of it.

On the second day we started early because we had a 14 mile trek ahead of us pulling handcarts. I know for many the thought of walking 14 miles while pushing and pulling a hand cart was very undanting. I have to admit that I was looking forward to it. Three miles into it I was still doing pretty good and planed on making it to our camp site with no worries. That was until we came to Rocky Ridge. The G.I. (Government Issue) boots I was wearing that I thought I had already broke in, produced blisters galore!! Thank goodness for duct tape. Who would have thunk!!

Before we headed up Rock Ridge we were told of how hard it was for the Pioneers to make it up the ridge because of the amount of snow that had already fallen and because of the fatigue they were all feeling. From hearing that I knew that I wanted to be one pulling the hand cart up. I asked Lynsie to pull along with me so we could both have the experience together. I think everyone was pretty psyched for the challenge because it wasn't as hard as I thought it would be. There were four of us pulling and four pushing. At times I felt like all I was doing was keeping a grip on the cart just to say I was there. I was actually hoping it would have been harder. Along the trail I asked those pushing to stop so I could have the experience of actually pushing the hand cart to feel what it is like to put some energy into it.



Two thoughts come to mind: one: I CAN do hard things! You have a lot of time to think on a 14 mile trek. I pondered the theme of the trek and realized that I have been doing hard things my whole life: running away from home; dropping out of high school, getting into drugs and drinking, being baptized and giving up a life that had become normal to me and start living a life I had never conceived; going on a mission; joining the Army; being deployed; getting married. There are times that I have feel like I fail at doing hard things because I complain, or fell that I don't give enough of myself. But in reality I give all that I can and even though I do complain I still do the best I can and for that I am blessed!


The other thought is: There were times on the trek as I was pulling the hand card along side others in my ward and as others were pushing from the back, that all I had to do was hold up and onto the cart. I wonder if that is all that is expected of us at times? That all we have to do is hold onto life and allow the Angels and Jesus to do some of the work. Of course we do eventually need to do our part, but I believe there are times when Father wants to do His part and all we have to do is stay on course and allow Him to help

 

Cracking Under Pressure

I was reminded of an experience I had when I was an early teen. At a young age my step mother taught my brothers and I how to cook because she didn't like cooking all the time. One day, because my parents were going to be out until late evening, I was asked to prepare dinner which consisted of a roast.

I am sure what my step mother told me was to put the roast in a baking dish with water and stick it in the oven. What I heard was put the roast in the pressure cooker with some water, tighten the lid and turn it up high, so that is what I did.

A while into the cooking my younger brother asked me if we needed to let out some of the steam through the vent on the lid. I said no, that is why they are called pressure cookers.

To the left of the sink was the kitchen sink where I was standing doing dishes. In an istant everything went white. I didn't hear anything and I was a bit disoriented for a few seconds. Once the air cleared I looked at the stove and noticed it has caved in about six inches. The pressure cooker had a crack in it and was still on the stove. The lid had blown off and in the process flipped in the air and slammed into the ceiling leaving a round imprint on it. The roast had flown over and hit my brother who was sitting on the couch watching TV, he wasn't hurt. And the window in the front door had been blown out. And me, standing right next to the stove, didn't get hurt either.

There is more to the story but for now we will leave it at that.

So what is there to learn from this? Here is what I learned:
-make sure I understand the directions the first time when they are given
-listen to the council of those around me because they might know what they are talking about.
-what pressures am I working under and how close am I to exploding or cracking?
-am I living in a way that if danger came my way I would be protected?
-how will my actions or are my actions or lack of actions therefore affecting those around me?

Food for thought.

To Raise or Not to Raise

Have you ever been in church and the person leading the class or meeting asks "Will someone be willing to give the opening or closing pray?" What happens then? There is usually a lull with the hope that someone else will eventually give in raise their hand and say it so we aren't asked to.

As I read the Sunday School lesson for today, I thought about the Man that raised His hands for us. A plan was presented that we all agreed on and shouted for joy over because it would give us the chance to become like our Heavenly Father and to return to His presence. We were all there and maybe many of us could have raised our hands when the question was asked "Whom shall I send?" Did we all sit around with our heads down and hope that someone else would raise their hand?

Have you ever had the feeling when you were at church that you were going to be asked so say a prayer? It's just something you knew so when you were asked it wasn't a suprise. I've had that feeling many times. I am grateful to be asked to talk to Father in behalf of those present. I am grateful that Father knew I had something to say, even in a prayer, that others and myself needed to hear.

I think that is what it was like when "the question" was asked. I think Jesus knew that he would be choosen even though there was another that wanted to be asked. Jesus knew what accepting the call would mean, pain, sorrow, and even death. Those things he knew were only temporary. What mattered most was that we would have our agency to choose good or evil, happiness or sorrow, light or darkness, vurtue or vise. He accepted the call because He loves us. It was all about LOVE.

So the next time the question is asked, whatever the question may be, be the one to raise your hand and say “Here am I...".

My Word!

On the day that I arrived in Germany I was assigned a room in a army barracks where I would make my home for two months until Lynsie came to join me. Before I could move in and rest my weary body from the long plane flight and from the time difference of eight hours,
a civilian worker for the military had to come and inventory and inspect the room. This was done so when it came time for me to move out if anything was broken or missing I would have to pay for it. After her quick inspection, (thank you civilian military worker lady) I signed a couple of papers indicating that all that was in the room would stay in the room and that I would pay for anything that might get broken or damaged.

Two months later Lynsie showed up with our dog Woody, and we moved into our own apartment "on the economy". That is what it is called when you don't live in Army housing on a base. We didn't really have a choice, we had to live off base which was okay with us because we wanted to have a European experience in Europe and not an American experience in Europe like all of those that live in Army housing do.

I was told of an hotel that rented apartments without deposit and without contracts so I took a drive one beautiful sunny day and found it. I told the owners daughter what I was looking for and she drove me to the apartment building where apartments were available. She showed me one, the one we are living in now. I thought it was rather small but it would serve it purpose until we were able to move into a bigger place. When I told the lady that I would take it she just said "Okay". I asked if I needed to put any money down as a deposit and she said no. I thought "Sweet!"

Just over a week later, the day before Lynsie arrived, I picked up the key for what would be our new home for the remaining time we were in Germany. I again asked if I needed to put down some money. I was told no again. I was quite surprised that they were going to allow us to move in without signing a contract and without giving them any money. This was a new experience for me! Do these people really just allow anyone to move in and expect to get paid every month just because the gave their word? YES! Aren't they concerned that someone give their word and will live there for a short time, steal everything then move out without paying? NO! All they needed was my word and the deal was done. We shook hands and that was it.

I have since learned that your word is your bond here in Germany. When you say you will do something, when you say you will give something, when you say you will be somewhere, it is given that you will. As I pondered this I my mind was drawn to the day I committed my life to JESUS.

I didn't sign any papers, I just said to Him that I am willing "to be called his people, and (I'm) willing to bear one another’s burdens, that they may be light; Yea, and (I'm) willing to mourn with those that mourn; yea, and comfort those that stand in need of comfort, and to stand as witnesses of God at all times and in all things, and in all places that (I) may be in, even until death, that (I) may be redeemed of God, and be numbered with those of the first resurrection, that (I) may have eternal life—" (Mosiah 18:8-9).

I am sorry to say that I haven't kept those commitments as well as I would have liked. Many times I have wondered how much longer will it be before He evicts me for not living up to the commitments that I made. I have just passed the 25 year mark since I made those commitments and if He hasn't evicted me by now I don't think He ever will. Here is one thing I KNOW. He will NEVER break His promises to me. He will ALWAYS be there for me even when I'm not there for Him. He LOVES me unconditionally. There is NOTHING I can do or say that would give Him reason to not love me. He doesn't know how not to love.

GOD IS LOVE! HE LOVES YOU!! ALWAYS! I promise.

Words of the Past

So here I am again after too many months away. I think I need to make a goal to write at least every other week so I can keep up with my wanting to blog. I have my good bestest friend John Barney, who by the way is not related to Barney Rubble, Barney Fife, or Barney the purple dinosaur, to thank for inspiring me to write again. He is a very good blogger and I recommend you read his blog because he is witty and spiritual all at the same time.

Now, on to the reason I am taking up your time in reading this. On 2 November 2011 I finished another journal. To be honest I don't know the exact number of journals that I have written. I know that it is around 47 or so. That is all in the span of almost 25 years. I would have more but there was a period of time that I got bored of writing every night and losing sleep. Then there was a time during Basic Training and A.I.T. that I let it slide. During both of those times events happened that I wish I would have kept a record of. Live and learn.

I have pondered why it is that I keep writing about me life every night. What makes me think that anyone would be interested in the little uneventful things that happen in my life. Who is going to want to read all of those journals? When I read back on some of them I don't even think they are interesting. So again why do I write?

It all started in 1985 in Paradise, California. That is where I met Joey Dinsmore, the guy that introduced me to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. I had met a girl at a dance and wanted to keep getting to know her so we went out a few times. Sadly she was from Denver, CO and would only be around for a short time. After she left to go back home I made plans to visit her. I told my friend Joey about it and he told me to keep a record of what I do so I did. When I returned from my trip I let him read about my trip. He made some comments about how he liked what I read. I guess that is all I needed to plant the seed. I wasn't as consistent as I am now. It wasn't until after I joined the Church that I really got hooked.

Now I am so hooked that I can't not write. I may not write every day but I keep notes of what I did that day then a day or two later I will go back and write about those days. I can't imagine letting a day go past that I don't write about something. I feel like there would be a hole in my life and I don't like that feeling.

I also think that there is a greater reason for me writing that I am totally unaware of. All I know is I am compelled to write. And even though what I write seems meaningless to me at times, there are other times when I have a life altering and spiritual experience that I want to share and always remember even if I may forget them for a short time. I know someone will read what I have written and it will mean something to them. I feel at times like I am writing scripture. Even as I write that I feel the Spirit testifying to me that I am. I wonder what the Prophets of old thought about what they were writing. "Is anyone really going to read what I am writing? And if they do will it mean to them what it means to me" Yes!

Which brings me to another reason why I write. My memory isn't what it use to be. I don't necessarily owe that all to older age as much as I do just plain lack of memory cells. Back in "the day" before Heavenly Father found me, I had done my best to kill as many brain cells as I could through a life style that I never wanted to life, I just didn't know how to get away from it. When I read some of my journals I don't remember the events or the people. That makes me sad. And other times I read an entree and smile because I do remember.

Here is a quote I found that even motivates me:

"Get a notebook,... a journal that will last though all time , and maybe the angels may quote from it for eternity. Begin today and write in it you goings and comings, you deepest thoughts, your achievements and your failures, your associations and your triumphs, your impressions and your testimonies"

President Spencer W. Kimball

So with another journal finished I get to start another one and that makes me happy!