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!

Compelled to be Humble

Here is the big issue that I have been dealing with since I've been here in Germany. I've been in the Army for six years come 8 August 2011. I joined when I was a month away from my 40th birthday. I look back now and I wonder what I was thinking. I was old enough to be the father of most of the others that joined when I did. But even being twice the age of many I was still better fit physically.

When one first come into the Army they are assigned a rank according to their level of education. The highest rank you can be right off the bat is an E-4, Specialist. I had an Associates Degree so I got to be an E-3, Private First Class or PFC. If you had a higher level of education you were an E-4 Specialist and encouraged to become an Officer which required a higher level of training. Anyway, after I finished all of the required training I was assigned to the HHB 1/145 Field Artillery at Camp Williams in Utah.

After I was there for a few months I was promoted to a Specialist. I didn't really have to do anything to get that promotion, that comes with time. Here some five years later I am still a Specialist. By now I should have been promoted to a Sergeant and I agree, that is where I want to be. In order to have that rank I am required to go to special training, but that is only if there is a "slot" open for me to be promoted to. And if there were a slot open it may be in another Unit and it may be another job which would once again require more training. As I mentioned, change in the Army isn't pleasant for me so I have stayed with the same Unit. I have since changed jobs but my job is in an E-4 Specialist slot so any chance of promotion is nil. I also really like the guys I drill with once a month and they like me and to me it is about serving my Country not the money or rank.

Fast forward to the present. I am now 45 almost 46 and am still a Specialist. When I am seen from a distance by other Soldiers they see the age before they see the rank. The right hand becomes ready to salute me because from a distant my rank looks like that of a Lieutenant Colonel. I've actually had people salute me and I kinda liked it. But as the Soldier gets closer and is able to see that I am only a Specialist there is no acknowledgement and most of the time not even a look. I also see the quizzical looks and puzzled minds thinking "Why is that old man still a Specialist?"

It hurts me deeply when those looks come my way. How I ache to be promoted to a SGT and to gain a bit of respect. What hurts the most is not receiving the respect for my age. In the Military is all about the rank, age has so little to do with it. I recently found out that any chance of promotion will not be mine until I go back to my unit in Utah which is another year or more away.

For whatever reason this is my lot. This is where Heavenly Father wants me. And though it humbles me to the dirt I accept it because I know I am where I am for His reasons which are beyond my understanding and being a Specialist is going to serve His purposes.

There is a song called "Better Than I" that has been the theme of my stay here in Germany. "For You know better than I. You know the way. I've let go the need to know why. For You know better than I." Certainly Father knows better than I.

I was given a blessing once that said "Be humble in all that you do. Humility is a virtue. Cultivate it and be willing always to subordinate yourself and your desires to those of the Savior and to those of you fellow men, wherein it is righteous and appropriate in the framework of the gospel to do so".

My goal now is to be humble and accept me as a 45 year old Specialist. Once I accept me then it won't matter if others don't. I get to choose how I feel and how I will respond to those around me. All that matters is what Father thinks about me. And I know that He thinks very highly of me and loves me more than I can ever comprehend.

imperfections

So here is the deal, I am going to type and not use the delete button to correct my mistakes. I find myself already typing slower so I don't goof. Out of all the key board butons on my keyboard the "delete" button is the one I use the most. My right pinky is so fast to jump on that button even before I finish a wentence becaue I hate to see that red underline under the words that I msispell. That is because I have a hard time seeing imperfections in myself and I want to delete them as soon as I see them and I can't wait til or be patient enough to allow them or me to work them out in a realistic manner.

Now most of us know that we have all be en given weakneses and imperfectoin to keep us humble anbd pointed to Jesus. It took me so many years to finally get this through my head. I just couldn't figure ouot in my head that Father in Heaven could still or possibly love me after all the sins I've committed and the weaknesses I have. Thatis mbecause I didn't love me or accept me. I still have a letter that a Ihaven't read all the way though from a girl I dated 23 years ago becasue I hurt her and I can't handle that I hurt soemone and I can't handle that I wasn't perfect. It took many years of falling and getting back up and feeling God's love and presents to finally comvence me that He truly does love me NO MATTER WHAT I do or say or feel or think. NowI am to a poin t in my life wehre I tell or admit to Father whatI am thinking and feeling and doing becasue He alwready knows and we can't hide it from Him. I feel an even closerness(?) to Him by doing that. I find that whatever I have don'e or felt doesn't linger as loner, longer when I come right out and admit what I have done.

We are told to be perfect in or from the scriptures but that doesn't mean be perfect like Jesus was, it means to be perfect in Christ and with Christ. It means so never give up and never surrender your desire to be the best you. Love yourself with all of your imperfections and love your imperfections becaseu that is how you were made. FAther gave those imperfections to you or at least knows of your imperfections and has and is and will continue to use them to

HIs perposes to bring souls to Him. I really believe that. I know that. So love yourself and accept yourself and make the best of this journey away from HOme. becasue we will be home soon enough and then we will be able to look back and see how our imperfection benefited that, those around us.

THat's all!

The Quiet Noise

So here I am, about to write my first blog, well actually my second blog. My first one was on my wife's blog page http://evolutionarily.wordpress.com. This one will be on my very own blog. So now what to blog about?

Just less then 30 minutes ago I was chatting with a friend on Facebook and she told me that she had been blogging but stopped for a while. Then she suggested that I start a blog about my time here in Germany. I had actually been thinking about starting a blog but is was only a small thought until she mentioned it.

I don't know that anything I have to say will be of interest to anyone. I'm not writing because I want everyone to know and read what I am thinking and feeling. I am writing because maybe my thoughts will have meaning to me. That's what The Quite Noise is: the thoughts inside my head that need and want to get out. Though I may appear to be quiet on the outside, on the inside it is very noisy and I just need to quite the noise so I can sleep at night and so I can be at peace, and so I can know what the Universe has to say to me.

That's all!