My Wife Rules

Excuses...

2012-01-25T22:28:00.000-08:00

Okay, so I've spent far more time being worried about my job the last nine months than writing blog posts about my life with my wonderful wife, who is more supportive, kinder, patient, and deserving of praise than ever.

And now I finally feel compelled to write something, but it's not a Wife Rule. It's a sweet experience that needed to be recorded. So to read it, please visit my other blog (which gets written on even less frequently than this one).

I've composed many beautiful Wife Rules in my head as I've driven to or from work or at other inopportune times. Hopefully one of these days I'll actually write one down...

Wife Rule #159: Celebrate the Holidays

2011-12-11T22:30:00.000-08:00

A great many things have happened to our family during the past year: Summer learned to crawl, walk, talk, and push Daddy around like putty in her tiny hands; we took our first family vacation to Disneyland and Charity learned that Tinkerbell is the scientific force behind all fireworks; we traveled to Newport Beach for my wife's beloved grandpa's funeral; we helped organize a surprise anniversary celebration and reception for my parents; Andrew started Kindergarten; Scott was baptized; Rachel and Dawn learned to ski with--and notwithstanding--the instructions of their father (lesson one: how to fall down); we sunk several grand into our first adventure with orthodontics; we survived the weekly activity schedule of six children, including Cub Scouts, Activity Days, ballroom dance, the school play, soccer, piano lessons, chores, homework, poopy diapers, and play time together; we said goodbye to and lost my beloved grandma; and we helped my parents stage their home, pack it up, move, unpack, and "try out" their new swimming pool no less than a dozen times. Just to name a few.

Yet with all this hustle and bustle, with all this activity and running back and forth, with the greetings and partings, with the ups and downs, "there is one thing which is of more importance than they all" (Alma 7:7).

Our family was challenged this year by our church leaders to study the life, teachings, and atonement of the Savior Jesus Christ. We made it a goal to read the first five books of the New Testament--Matthew through Acts. It took us over 10 months of daily effort, but we finally finished. As we read together each morning, a beautiful story unfolded before us, again and again with each new writer: a baby whose birth was announced by heavenly messengers; wonderful parents who protected and loved the child through heaven-sent help, against all odds; an obedient child who taught His parents and others in the temple; the stirring testimony of John and the beginning of public ministry; the equally compelling private ministry among those who believed; the miracles that were witnessed by many but understood by only the faithful; the gentle teaching, the lifting, the comforting, the helping, the healing; a Man who loved perfectly and came to be loved by the faithful few who would ignore the doubts, jeers, mocking, and scoffing of the crowd; the careful preparation of beloved disciples to carry on the work after His departure; the bravery and agony of infinite atonement, followed by the welcome release of death; the miracle of resurrection and new life and hope offered to all; the majesty of heavenly ascension and the promise of return; the charge to take the message to the world, and the assurance of His presence and guidance in the acts of those willing to take up the charge.

All these were laid before us in splendid, powerful prose. The testimonies of those eye-witnesses still rings true with relevance in our lives today. It is because of that baby--because of Him--that we have peace in this world and hope for a better world. His plan for us imbues day-to-day life with meaning, providing context for the schedules and comfort in the hard times. Because of Him, we recognize the precious value of a human soul and work hard to allow our children opportunities to learn and grow. Because of Him, we hope to remain a family forever, influencing the way we deal with the Big Stuff like death, as well as how treat each other in even the smallest of daily interactions. Because of His example, we serve. Because of His grace, we endure, we pray, and we hope for deliverance from sickness, from pain, from disappointment, and even from death. Because of Him, the trials in life are not insurmountable walls to block us, nor bottomless pits to ensnare us, but stepping stones to help propel us to a better, higher place.

Truly, "He is the light and the life of the world; yea, a light that is endless, that can never be darkened; yea, and also a life which is endless, that there can be no more death." (Mosiah 16:9)

In this season of thanksgiving and celebration, we testify of Him--that He lives and loves us and will come again. He is the Giver of all good gifts. We owe Him gratitude for our faith, our families, the peace we find today, and our hope for the future. The babe born in Bethlehem over 2000 years ago remains relevant and resplendent in our lives today: He is the Comforter and Counselor, the King of kings and Lord of Lords, the Savior and Redeemer of us all.

Wife Rule #158: Find the Treasures - III

2011-08-06T22:09:00.000-07:00

Today was a great day, a true treasure.

In the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, we baptize our children when they have reached the age of accountability--in other words, they should be old enough to have a firm grasp on the difference between right and wrong, and understand the commitment they are making to God when they are baptized. My third child and oldest son has reached this age and was baptized today.

It's a sweet and tender thing to take a child this age--only eight years old--and see him make a conscious choice to devote his life to following Jesus Christ. His faith is so simple and pure--he still takes most of what I say at face value, without question--yet he is also beginning to mature and peek into the deeper layers of life that escape the notice of younger children.

The baptismal service was beautiful. Grandmothers gave the opening and closing prayers. Aunts played the piano and led the singing. My daughter, his big sister, gave a brief, well-prepared message about being baptized. A beloved grandfather gave a thoughtful talk about receiving the gift of the Holy Ghost and the lifelong quest we have to hone and perfect the skill of listening to His guidance and direction.

In the middle of it all was a musical number, which I foolishly thought would be nice to have performed by our immediate family. So my wife and I and our six children stood in front of the grandparents and aunts and uncles and cousins and started to sing "Families Can Be Together Forever" and my eyes started running like a faucet halfway into the first line and never stopped. My contribution to the song was a complete, mushy mess. Thankfully, the older kids kept the tune going along as my wife and I were having a hard time holding a steady note.

Since there is a lay priesthood (no professional clergy) in our church, I was able to baptize my son. Distributing the priesthood authority to perform ordinances to the fathers of the church is truly a wonderful thing--a miracle--that puts into the hands of a common man like me the responsibility and privilege of representing the Savior in blessing God's children. What a wonderful, hands-on tutorial about how to be a father!

As we changed back into dry clothes, we chatted about the experience. My son said how happy he felt and what a great day this was. I explained that the happy, warm, good feelings that confirmed his decision to be baptized came from the Holy Ghost. My emotions were still at surface level, and I told him through more tears how much these special days mean in my life--how days like today were the happiest times I have ever had.

When we finished changing, my father and brother and brothers-in-law joined me in a circle to confirm my son a member of the church of Jesus Christ, and to bestow upon him the gift of the Holy Ghost. What a wonderful privilege it was to convey this most precious gift upon a pure child, newly baptized and such an open book for the precious truths that can only be taught by the Lord's Spirit.

My wife was asked to say a few words, and shared her feelings--through tears--about what a wonderful step this is in our son's life and what a happy day it was.

After the service, our family gathered at our home for refreshments. Our son was beaming. I was beaming. My wife was beaming. Grandparents and aunts and uncles were happy. Some had driven four hours or more to be there, and had a long journey ahead of them. Some had extended their vacations to be there, delaying the 10-hour drive home far into the night in order to attend. Some had come after being up all night long at a doctor's office. Some had dressed their children in their Sunday best on a sunny, Saturday afternoon, and driven across town to attend a meeting when there were a million other things to do. Some had brought goodies to share. All had rearranged their busy schedules and taken time out of their hectic lives to come and celebrate with us.

This, truly, was family--the full, splendid meaning of the sacred word demonstrated, with every positive facet of familial love on display. My wife and I finished the day with an overwhelming sense of fullness. The gratitude we feel for these loved ones--who shower us with support, who give to us their precious time, and who come to celebrate this seminal moment with us, all the while with huge smiles on their faces and genuine joy in sharing life with us--is beyond what I can write. I can only attempt to sum it up by restating the hopeful words of the song I blubbered through earlier today:

I have a family here on earth.
They are so good to me.
I want to share my life with them
Through all eternity.
Families can be together forever
Through Heavenly Father's plan.
I always want to be
With my own family
And the Lord has shown me how I can.

On days like today, it's obvious that anything less than forever just wouldn't be enough.

Wife Rule #157: Find the Treasures - II

2011-07-16T15:06:00.000-07:00

Another recent treasure:

On our way home from our weekly date, as we approached our neighborhood, on a whim I pulled off the road into the parking lot for a small walking path that runs along the edge of the golf course and follows the river towards the canyon. Though we have jogged and biked along alternate paths through this general area, this was our first time along this particular stretch.

It was already past sunset. The cool blueness of dusk enveloped the landscape, the long shadows of the valley having long since merged into the mountainside. Only the tops of the peaks still glowed in the last yellow light of the day.

The earth around us was suspended in a hushed stillness. The low, rolling hills of field grass and wildflowers between the path and the groomed lawns of the golf course only occasionally murmured, when a lone bit of breeze wandered through the valley. The marsh grass and cattails surrounding the ponds betrayed no movement.

We strolled through this mesmerizing scene, noting the various landscaping features we admired in the backyards of the homes that bordered the path. Cheerful, yellow light spilled out from some of the windows of the homes. A few children scrambled past us, engaged in an early night game. A few residents sat, enjoying the beauty from their patios. We exchanged waves of hello with them as we passed.

My wife's fingers tightened around mine as we made our way up the path. We walked clear to the end before turning around. Her eyes shone with peaceful joy as we chatted softly about the homes, the yards, the grass, the flowers, the canyon, the mountains, and of course, our children.

Our younger children were safe at home, already in their beds, in the care of our oldest daughters. The darkness deepened, signaling our time to return home. The whole walk had only been maybe thirty minutes, but even so, we hadn't done anything spontaneous like this little diversion in what seemed like a long, long time. But now that there wasn't a sitter to send home and a schedule to stick to, we had a whole, new world of options open to us.

This built-in babysitter thing is a game-changer. That day was a good day.

Wife Rule #156: Find the Treasures

2011-07-11T22:00:00.000-07:00

Life seems to increase in difficulty, complexity, and pace all simultaneously. Unfortunately, during the times when my wife most needs to hear sweet words of affirmation and when I most need to write them, life doesn't seem to allow time to jot them down. It has been this way for the past several months, as various Wife Rules have floated into and back out of my head without ever lodging long enough to write down.

So what is a man to do when his time in the sun is up and he's sent into the dark of the mines? Dig for treasure, of course. And it's always there to be found, no matter how much dirt has to be moved to get to it. I've been reminded recently that life's treasures only increase in value the deeper into the mines we go. Or in other words, the harder life gets, the more precious those gems become.

I'll attempt to catalog just a few of the treasures I've enjoyed the past several months, since I haven't been finding time to regularly write My Wife Rules.

***************

The sun had sunk in the west, leaving behind a canvas of Carribean blue that bled into black as my eyes scanned upward, searching for stars. I have long referred to this particular pallete of colors as a "Disney Sky," because this is how the skies are always painted in the Disney cartoon movies--especially during the parts where the princess and prince fall in love. Think of the way the sky looked during Aladdin's carpet ride with Jasmin, or Belle's dance with the Beast.

As the sky slowly darkened, the lights of the attractions at California Advanture park became more punctuated. I watched the trains round the loops of the California Screamin' roller coaster in time with the shrill soundtrack of delighted riders. The giant outline of Mickey Mouse shone brightly on the Ferris Wheel as the cars swayed lazily in the night. The black lagoon reflected the lights, and the breeze was stuffed with the smell of water and grease and sugar.

I sat alone on the terrace with Summer--alone because my wife had taken advantage of the short line on the new Little Mermaid ride to entertain the five older kids while we waited for the World of Color show to start. I remained behind with the baby to reserve our spot, which was marked by a couple of blankets and a stroller that had managed to keep just a bit of space free from the crowds of thousands of other enthusiastic park goers who were also waiting the remaining 30 minutes for the musical and visual spectacular.

Speakers from somewhere behind us had been playing pleasant instrumental music all evening, and as I bounced Summer on my knee, the familiar melody of Stardust began. The high strings sang out the lines I had so often repeated to my babies as I rocked them to sleep:

And now the purple dusk of twilight time
steals across the meadow of my heart
High up in the sky the little stars climb
Always reminding me that we're apart...

Ooooh, this was perfect. Perfect setting, perfect music, and the perfect little girl to sing to. I turned Summer around so I could look her directly in the eye. She smiled back at me through slurping lips full of chubby little fingers as I sang along in my best Nat King Cole voice:

Sometimes I wonder how I spent
the lonely night dreaming of a song
The melody haunts my memory
and I am once again with you
When our love was new
and each kiss an inspiration...

I leaned in and rubbed noses with Summer, eliciting a delighted squirm with squinted eyes and outstretched arms. I finished her off with a kiss, right on the mouth.

But that was long ago and now my consolation
is in the stardust of a song
Beside the garden wall, when stars are bright,
You are in my arms
The nightingale tells his fairy-tale
of paradise where roses bloom...

Some paradise, like this place. Here I was, surrounded by gardens and flowers and pleasant sights and sounds and smells, and sharing it all with my little princess, under a Disney sky. I was definitely falling in love.

Though I dream in vain
in my heart it always will remain
my Stardust melody,
the memory of love's refrain.

As I finished singing the closing lines, we rubbed noses again, eliciting another Summer smile. As I drew back my head, she reached out to touch my face. I caught her fingers in my mouth and kissed them.

I was called back from my trance by the presence of a sweet older woman who must have been sitting next to me the whole time, but who had faded into non-existence along with the rest of the crowd during my serenade.

"That was beautiful. I didn't know anyone knew the words to that song anymore," she remarked.

"It's one of my favorites," I replied. "It has such a nice melody--perfect for a lullaby."

"I wish I had my video camera for that," she sighed. "That was so sweet. They grow up so fast, you know."

I know. I know. Times like these fade too quickly into the twilight of the changing sky, just like stardust. My oldest is already over half raised, and I'm just barely beginning to figure out how to be a dad.

My wife and the other five kids appeared, wearing wide grins and chattering about the events of the day. It was suddenly noisy, but it was also so good to have them back, to be a whole family, together again. I returned fully into the crowded setting as we reshuffled our positions and tried to arrange seating for the show.

Times like these are what being a dad is all about. Today was a good day.

Wife Rule #155: Thanks

2011-05-29T21:27:00.001-07:00

Okay, this is not really a Wife Rule. But I don't ever post on my other blog and thus I'm sure no one reads it, and I think these thoughts are really worth reading. So I'm posting them here.

For Memorial Day I want to share a brief presentation I prepared for my daughter's 5th grade class about my grandfather's service in World War II. It is a few of my explanatory words mixed in with some excerpts from his autobiography (whose pages I hastily photographed since I could not get an acceptable scan due to the way the book was bound). I hope you find this as interesting as I did, and that it serves to remind us why we celebrate Memorial Day and honor those who served our country.

* * *

My Grandfather served in World War II as a chaplain in the Army. A chaplain is a representative from a church who serves in the Army to provide religious support for the soldiers. My grandfather served in the Army for many years and was a full Colonel when he retired-only one rank lower than a general, the highest rank in the Army. He was in charge of all the chaplains in his division, which had several thousand soldiers in it. He was one of the first three Mormon chaplains in the U.S. Army.

As a chaplain, he was not a fighting soldier-he wasn't supposed to have a gun, although he learned to keep one on hand, since, as he said, the enemy didn't seem to care that he wasn't a fighting soldier-they would shoot at him with or without a gun.

Even though he belonged to a specific religion, he served soldiers from many different religions-that's how chaplains often worked. He conducted Sunday worship services, held funerals, and provided counseling for the soldiers wherever they went. He served with his division of solders through several different battle campaigns in World War II. He served in the Pacific War, starting in Alaska, then down in many of the islands of the South Pacific, and ending up in Okinawa, Japan. Most of the enemy he fought were Japanese.

My grandpa recorded many stories from his service in World War II in an autobiography he wrote when I was a young boy. I'll read some of his own words about his first assignment after the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor and forced the United States into the war.

"Tokyo Rose" was the name given to several Japanese women, who would do radio broadcasts in English, and tell about the American army's plans. They did this on purpose, so that the Americans would know the Japanese knew about their plans and feel discouraged and lose hope of a surprise attack. This is called Propaganda-the art of using words as a weapon in a war to influence what people thought and how people felt. It worked well. Back to my grandpa's story:

Propaganda was also used by the Americans on the Americans. Here's an example my Grandpa wrote about:

Attu is an island on the far end of the Aleutian island chain that comes off of Alaska. It is very cold there-the ground is rock and tundra. My grandpa describes the first battle as the Americans reached the island:

They had been training to fight in Africa, and their assignment was changed to Alaska at the last minute.

So despite their best preparations, things don't usually go according to plan in a war. Here's another example of a problem they had:

As the division chaplain, one of my grandpa's duties was to arrange for burial and hold funeral services. Here's what he said about this as the Battle of Attu continued.

A chaplain's work is not only for the soldiers, but also for their families. My grandpa wrote hundreds of letters to the "next of kin," or the surviving family of soldiers who were killed.

Even though Chaplains were not fighting soldiers, they performed a very important service and many were true heroes. My grandpa wrote about one chaplain he knew who was given a medal for his heroic efforts to help the soldiers he served:

Sometimes in war we think that all of our enemies are evil and deserve death. After all, the U.S. army used propaganda to try to make the American soldiers believe this and hate the Japanese enemy. Yet, there were times even during battle, when they were reminded that we are all part of the human family and what a shame it is that we were fighting each other. Here's an example:

Realizing that we are not all that different from our enemies can help us reach out in kindness like the chaplain who made the effort to return the book to the soldier's father. The Japanese and Americans have been able to forgive each other and are no longer enemies, but have been close friends and allies since World War II.

Here is my grandpa's summary of the total casualties in the battle of Attu:

Finally, as an illustration of why our brave soldiers fight in wars in the first place, here is a story from my Grandpa's time he served during the battle at Kwajalein, a tiny island in the South Pacific:

He goes on to explain that the battle lasted five days and they killed 5000 enemy soldiers, losing 150 Americans in the fight. This battle destroyed many of the homes of the natives people living on Kwajalein.

Our brave soldiers fight for freedom-not just for our freedom, but for the freedom of good people all over the world. They fight for the freedom to worship as we choose, the freedom to work, the freedom to play, the freedom to marry and have families, and the freedom to live in peace. I am proud to have relatives who served our country in World War II.

Wife Rule #154: Why I Am Grateful For the Resurrection

2011-04-25T21:49:00.001-07:00

It seems a little strange to be writing an Easter-themed Wife Rule after Easter is over, but perhaps the timing goes better with my thoughts anyway.

Easter is a celebration of life--new life--that comes to the world as a direct result of Jesus' resurrection. When He voluntarily gave His life and then took it up again early on the morning of the third day, He broke the bands of death for all mankind. All that have ever lived will likewise be resurrected, thanks to this free gift He provides.

As I awoke this morning and looked across the bed at the peaceful, beautiful face of my beloved wife, her eyes still closed in restful repose, my mind flooded with thoughts of how blessed I am because she is in my life. I have known such beauty, such meaning, such purpose, such joy as I never could have known without her. She is shelter when the world seems cold. She is comfort when the world seems unfeeling. She is escape when the world seems overwhelming. In a sense, she is my world--my true world--for she is the embodiment of my fondest hopes and my deepest love, independent and unfettered by the rest of the world. She truly has given me a little bit of heaven on earth.

The words of Paul about the resurrection seem appropriate here:

"If in this life only we have hope in Christ, we are of all men most miserable" (1 Corinthians 15:19).

Having tasted such sweetness in marriage as I have, I can attest how pathetic--how miserable--it would be if the joy and hope my wife and I share were all in vain because of the looming and inescapable specter of Death. How unbearable it would be to once feel the warm embrace of true, selfless love, only to have it crumble to dust in our arms. How cruel a plan it would be to tease us with such joy, only to pluck it out of our grasping hands. How tragic it would be if we were all like Shakespeare's lovers, star-crossed and destined to die prematurely when viewed in light of a love whose strength could have--and should have--lasted forever!

If I could plan our inevitable end, my wife and I would grow old together, wrinkly and gray and still holding hands, until our time was up--and then we would lie down peacefully and exit this world together. Most likely, it will not turn out that way--it seldom does. One or the other of us will likely have to endure the painful, lonely pangs of loss that true lovers feel: that half-dead grayness that seems to shroud the very light of life in a veil of perpetual sorrow.

And yet, through the haze and gloom there is a bright sun shining. The promise of an eventual reunion with a sweet, beloved companion and untold numbers of loved ones and forebears shines as a penetrating beam of hope with power to dissipate the darkness. There awaits a bright reawakening--a dawning into a never-ending day--for all who have ever lived on this earth. A joyful coming together of all that was broken; of old associations and friendships long forgotten. And for the faithful who choose to be sealed through the authority of the governing God, the promise that family, that golden standard of all happiness, can and will endure in unbroken chains of glory past the ends of eternity.

All this is possible in and through--and only through--our Redeemer, whose life and death and resurrection we celebrate each Easter. He is the resurrection and the life; our hope and salvation; the bright and morning star.

"If in this life only we have hope in Christ, we are of all men most miserable. But now is Christ risen from the dead.... For as in Adam all die, even so in Christ shall all be made alive" (1 Corinthians 15:19-22).

It is the hope that springs from Easter--from Him--that sustains us each day after the holiday and gives us reason to celebrate in the first place.

Wife Rule #153: I Am Loved

2011-04-10T19:54:00.000-07:00

Work has been hard recently. Several weeks ago I returned home completely drained--physically, mentally, and emotionally. I felt down in just about every part of my life, except my family. My sweet wife--even though I found out later that she had had a hard day of her own--was kind enough to let me come in and crash on the floor with my eyes closed until dinner. I didn't offer to help. I just lay there, completely self-absorbed, trying hard not to think about how frustrated and upset I was, and of course, unable to think of anything else.

I felt stuck. Or perhaps a better word is trapped. It seemed that every option I could think of to get out of my current situation had at least one serious drawback--a drawback that was too big to make the option worth seriously considering.

I could tell that I was in a bad spot and something needed to improve. Since I couldn't think of any way to improve my circumstances, I knew I needed to focus on getting over it. So I determined to do one of the only things that almost always seems to help when I'm down: I decided to awake early the following morning and attend the temple, the Lord's house on earth.

Since I live within five minutes of a Latter-day Saint temple and I was exhausted, the next morning I allowed myself to sleep until the last possible minute. I generally consider waking any time earlier than 6:00 AM to lie within the realm of obscenity, but for the temple that morning, I made an exception. I awoke at 5:50 with the intent to make it to the 6:30 session. Everything went well--no problems, no trouble with the icy roads, no wait once I was there. I hurried up the stairs as much as I dared, only to be met with the kind smiles of the hosts there, telling me that they had just shut the doors for the 6:30 session. I was literally probably one minute too late.

Well, if I've got to wait around until 7:00 and be 30 minutes late to work, I figured I should make the most of the time. I opened up the Book of Mormon to the spot I had been reading the previous night, in 1 Nephi 11. I followed some cross-references into the New Testament, read up on some stuff in the Bible Dictionary, and about 20 minutes later found myself back in 1 Nephi 11. I was reading about the prophet Nephi's vision of the Christ child being born and then read verses 16 and 17:

16 And he said unto me: Knowest thou the condescension of God?

17 And I said unto him: I know that he loveth his children; nevertheless, I do not know the meaning of all things.

The words of verse 17 seemed to jump out of the page at me: I know that God loveth his children; nevertheless, I do not know the meaning of all things.

This verse, taken in a totally different context than how it was written, seemed to perfectly describe my situation: I didn't know the meaning. I couldn't see the way. I was in a place of ambiguity. A wide assortment of roads lay before me, each as unappealing as the next. I was stuck, and simply did not know what to do.

How much easier it would be, I thought, if God would just tell me which path to take. I would gladly do it. But being where I was, trapped and seemingly unable to move in any suitable direction, I felt helpless and without direction. I did not know what to do, except to be patient and simply keep going.

But despite what I don't know, like Nephi, I do know that God loves His children. I know He watches over me and that he never has, and never will, abandon me. He has always been there to point the way, to give me just one step ahead, when I needed Him most. And since I have not yet felt his nudge to change my course, I have enough experience with His method of gentle guidance to know that I must not be at that point yet. He never gives us more help than we need--for doing so would deprive us of the growth that can only come through experiencing and slogging through life's perplexing ambiguities.

In the midst of these thoughts the time for the 7:00 session came, and I spent the next 90 minutes thinking about the ways that our loving Heavenly Father--for our own good--lets us deal with the ambiguities of life. He does provide direction at crucial points when we need it--I am a witness of this fact. But it also seems to me that often during very challenging times--those times when we're desperately seeking a change in our situation--the path to change seems ambiguous and the answers to our pleas for help are simply to be patient and keep on going.

Sometimes, because the scriptures are so terse, I think some of us get the mistaken notion that the "great ones" walked a golden path from miracle to miracle until they landed in heaven. But a careful reading of the stories in the Bible, Book of Mormon, and other scriptures reveals that even the Lord's prophets walked long, difficult pathways involving lots of ambiguity while waiting for the Lord's guiding hand to point the way or provide relief. The scriptural miracles that inspire us so much are in fact very special--and often rare--points of punctuation in lives that, like ours, would otherwise seem to be just long, run-on sentences.

Consider the difficulty of three of the epic journeys we read about in the scriptures:

Sometimes the faults of others cause us delay and pain in our journey. Nephi's journey to his promised land was certainly impacted by his older brothers' constant murmuring and occasional physical abuse and attempts on his life. These difficulties caused even faithful Nephi to struggle (2 Nephi 4:27-29).
Sometimes our times of ambiguity are because we don't ask for the help we need. The Jaredites spent four years completely stalled on their journey to their promised land before the Lord chastened their leader for not asking for guidance (Ether 2:14).
Sometimes our own failures land us in ambiguous places. Moses and the children of Israel wandered for forty years in the wilderness--and only a handful of the original bunch were permitted to see the promised land (Numbers 14:33). Moses, the great prophet, finished his life on the doorstep to this goal, but never attained it personally.

However, for many of us patience is required to work through the ambiguities of our journey simply because the distance we must travel is so very far. A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step; but after a while those steps start to feel repetitive, and perhaps we wonder if we are taking the right journey at all, or whether there might be another, better way. But often the right answer is to simply see it through to the end:

Nephi and the rest of Lehi's family spent eight years in the wilderness between the time they left Jerusalem and when they arrived at the seashore where they built the ship to cross to the Americas (1 Nephi 17:4). Most of this long journey is never mentioned--just a few stories. It's probably safe to assume that it was often hard and boring. We often judge Laman and Lemuel harshly for complaining, but I wonder if I would have lasted eight years in a tent, walking day after day, with a cheerful attitude.
As for the Jaredites, even after they repented for not seeking the Lord's direction, their journey was still long. They spent nearly a whole year cooped up in barges without windows on a storm-tossed sea before arriving in the promised land (Ether 6:11).
The righteous children of Israel who would eventually be allowed into the promised land still had to wait the full forty years it took for the unbelievers to all die off.

Surely these people must have wondered at times whether they were doing the right thing, or whether things could be improved somehow. Despite the varying reasons why these journeys were so long and arduous, the reason for them was the same: the Lord loved these people and had designs--a promised land--specifically tailored for them. Their part of the bargain was to go when He said Go, stop when He said Stop, and have the patience to wait on Him and the fortitude to continue on during the times when He seemed to say nothing at all, despite the hardships and ambiguities they surely faced.

The Lord permitted the prophet Joseph Smith, after being unjustly tried, to wallow in the dismal Liberty Jail--a dungeon with four-foot thick walls, a filthy stone floor, and a ceiling too low to allow standing upright--for six months spanning perhaps the coldest winter on record before being allowed to escape (read more here). Doctrine and Covenants section 121, a prayer and revelation recorded during these dreary conditions, illustrates the ambiguity the Prophet felt so keenly during this difficult time:

1 O God, where art thou? And where is the pavilion that covereth thy hiding place?
2 How long shall thy hand be stayed, and thine eye, yea thy pure eye, behold from the eternal heavens the wrongs of thy people and of thy servants, and thine ear be penetrated with their cries?
3 Yea, O Lord, how long shall they suffer these wrongs and unlawful oppressions, before thine heart shall be softened toward them, and thy bowels be moved with compassion toward them?
(D&C 121:1-3)

Consider these scenarios of life's ambiguity, common to our day:

A young mother with children seems to spend her entire day picking up after careless toddlers; washing, folding, and putting away an endless stream of laundry that will somehow all end up on the floor again; preparing meals for people who will be hungry again in a few hours; and washing dishes that will be dirty again the next day. She wonders if she will survive and whether life will ever change.
A father spends a decade building a career that he hopes will provide a nice retirement someday, only to find himself out of work for a prolonged period of time, eating up the savings he had so carefully put away.
A child can't wait to grow up when he is small, only to discover that he doesn't feel ready to face the challenges and decisions required to be a "grown up" when he's big.
A widow spends decades alone, wondering how long the Lord will keep her here on earth, waiting for the happy reunion that will someday come.
A cancer patient with a poor prognosis tries to figure out how aggressively to fight the disease, trying to balance longevity with quality of life.
A woman with multiple-sclerosis battles her disease every day, all the while knowing that there will be yet harder days ahead.
A couple with a special needs child tries to figure out what kind of life they can provide for their child, while adjusting their long-term plans to accommodate this unexpected care burden.
A man searches diligently to find a woman to love and marry, only to have his purest intentions and best efforts frustrated.

There are no easy answers to the ambiguities present in these common scenarios--each one of which represents someone I know, and so many, many people I don't know. Each of these trials may cause the best of us to ask, "God, where art thou?" Each presents a challenge that only perseverance, patience, trust, and pure love (with a dash of true grit) can overcome. And the solutions always come according to the Lord's time table, which often doesn't align too well with our wishes.

There are many things I don't know, and many answers I don't have, but this much I do know: each of these trials are selected for us by a loving God who knows us and precisely plans the ways He will stretch us and help us to grow. The Lord's response to the Prophet Joseph's prayer in Liberty Jail applies to all of us: "know thou, my son, that all these things shall give thee experience, and shall be for thy good." (D&C 122:7)

Physical growth always occurs one cell at a time, and is almost imperceptible except by looking back over a long period of time. The kind of spiritual growth we signed up for when we voted to come experience mortality is the same, occurring a little bit at a time, one second after another during the long periods of waiting and ambiguity we must all endure. In fact, the very moments when we feel we are stalled in our forward progress may be the periods when we are experiencing our most rapid growth and are poised on the threshold of our greatest blessings.

Another thing I know: our loving God allows us our periods of ambiguity to wear down the mountains of our pride and selfishness the same way the mountains crumble and find their way to the sea: by the sheer erosion that only extended time and rough weather produce.

As I listened to the teachings in the temple that morning about the Savior, I was filled with gratitude that God has a plan and a way to help us in our need, offered through the gift of His beloved Son, the Savior of the world. Through Him we can overcome whatever may befall us. His grace is sufficient for me--and for all of us--and is the very key to surviving life's hardships and finding meaning in life's ambiguities.

As I finished the temple session and made my way into the center room in the temple representing the Celestial Kingdom where God dwells, the morning sun was streaming through the windows. It seemed to me that a new morning brought the promise of another chance to start fresh--that each new day segmented the challenges I face just enough to handle them, one chunk at a time. I felt a renewed confidence that God is in His heaven, that He loves me, and that I can work through my challenges and the ambiguity I currently face.

As I stood up to leave, I noticed someone: Alice, a sweet, elderly woman whom my wife and I knew in the previous neighborhood we lived in. She and her husband had worked at the temple for years, and we had greeted them here from time to time. In one of these occasional meetings we found out that her husband had passed away. It had now been several years.

Alice was seated near me, her eyes closed in fervent prayer. I wondered how she was doing. I wondered how much she missed her husband. I wondered whether being here, in the Lord's house where she and her husband had joined hands and began their journey together so many years ago, made her loss more poignant. I felt like I should stay and say hello, so I sat back down to wait for her to finish. Perhaps the smile of an old friend would brighten her day.

Alice prayed a long time, and I waited. When she finally finished, I paused for a few seconds and then stood up to greet her. She looked up and her face brightened as she recognized me. She greeted me warmly and told me how much she loves my wife, and offered her hand to clasp. I grasped it and we quietly chatted for a few moments. Then I stooped down to give her a hug.

While I embraced her, something very unusual happened. As I held this wonderful, sweet widow in a warm hug I thought of my own grandmother, a widow of over twenty years now. I thought of my dear mother-in-law, widowed for seven years. I sensed how very, very much God loves his widows. His love, which I had been basking in for my own sake, now seemed to stream down from heaven in even greater measure for Alice, and completely filled me. So I kissed Alice on the cheek. Prior to this day, I had only kissed two women outside my family, and I married one of them. I wondered a little at what I had done but was relieved when she kissed my cheek in return. I stood back up and looked at her. "I miss you as our neighbors," she said with genuine affection. "I do too," I responded, my voice nearly choking for the tears in my eyes. "It was so good to see you today, Alice."

We smiled at each other and I turned and walked out. As I left the temple that day, the love that God has for His children burned in my soul like a bright, warm fire. As I drove home to my loving wife (who had prepared a special breakfast, waiting for me when I arrived), I suddenly found myself with tears streaming down my face--not tears of despair because of life's ambiguities, but tears of gratitude because of what I have. It is true that I do not know the meaning of all things, and I don't yet know how my present challenge will turn out, but this I do know: God loves me, just as He loves all of His children, and whatever the problem, I will make it through--He will see to that, so long as I trust in Him. His grace is sufficient. This I know.

When our times of ambiguity seem to stretch on without a foreseeable end, we can remember the comforting words of the Lord to the prophet Joseph: "Therefore, hold on thy way.... Thy days are known, and thy years shall not be numbered less; therefore, fear not ... for God shall be with you forever and ever." (D&C 122:9)

Wife Rule #152: It Is Enough

2011-02-14T00:01:00.000-08:00

I listened on the radio for a few minutes yesterday as a talk-show host began to offer his perspective on love and romance. Shortly afterwards was one of a hundred jewelry commercials that hit the airwaves leading up to Valentine's Day. You know them: "Show her you love her with a diamond pendant." "Give the gift that is as everlasting as your love." "Be romantic. Buy diamonds." You've heard them all before.

These relentless messages did succeed in getting me thinking: after nearly 13 years of marriage together, what is the state of our love? How do I define love and romance? Is she still the girl of my dreams? Is our love, sans-diamonds, enough?

From the immortal wisdom of Joseph Stein's Fiddler on the Roof, lyricist Sheldon Harnick gives a perspective on these all-important questions between husband and wife. Reb Tevye and his wife Golde were the product of a marriage arranged by their parents, in the tradition of their people. They were poor dairy farmers in a small Russian town where their religion was persecuted. As their daughters begin to break the arranged-marriage tradition by falling in love first and asking for their parents' blessing on their choices afterwards, Tevye begins to ponder the real meaning of love. A tender, poignant duet springs from his simple question:

(Tevye)
Do you love me?

(Golde)
Do I what?

(Tevye)
Do you love me?

(Golde)
Do I love you?
With our daughters getting married
And this trouble in the town
You're upset, you're worn out
Go inside, go lie down!
Maybe it's indigestion

(Tevye)
Golde, I'm asking you a question...
Do you love me?

(Golde)
You're a fool

(Tevye)
I know...
But do you love me?

(Golde)
Do I love you?
For twenty-five years I've washed your clothes
Cooked your meals, cleaned your house
Given you children, milked the cow
After twenty-five years, why talk about love right now?

(Tevye)
Golde, The first time I met you
Was on our wedding day
I was scared

(Golde)
I was shy

(Tevye)
I was nervous

(Golde)
So was I

(Tevye)
But my father and my mother
Said we'd learn to love each other
And now I'm asking, Golde
Do you love me?

(Golde)
I'm your wife!

(Tevye)
I know...
But do you love me?

(Golde)
Do I love him?
For twenty-five years I've lived with him
Fought him, starved with him
Twenty-five years my bed is his
If that's not love, what is?

(Tevye)
Then you love me?

(Golde)
I suppose I do.

(Tevye)
And I suppose I love you too.

(Both)
It doesn't change a thing
But even so,
After twenty-five years
It's nice to know.

My wife and I haven't been married for 25 years, but we're now officially over half way there. What is our love? We have six children. We have two cars, a home, and a big mortgage. We have piles of laundry and a sinkful of dishes. We have stress, worries, and problems. We've got a lot of stuff and by now, at least a little bit of history. So what is our love?

Our love is waking up every morning next to the same person. It is groggily falling out of bed and touching fingertips across the mattress while we say our individual prayers. It is sidling over to her side of the bed so we can clasp hands as we join together in couple prayer.

Our love is the simple act returning to the bedroom after breakfast and finding my toothbrush preloaded with paste and waiting on the counter for me. It is making the bed so it will look nice when she sees it next.

Our love is jointly gathering the children together to read from the scriptures and kneeling with them for morning family prayer. It is when a child has forgotten something during the daily rush off to school, and my wife says "I got it" so that my own tight schedule won't be further impacted. It is getting in the shower and finding that the soap has been replaced and that the towels have been washed and rehung.

Our love is when she brings the baby to me for a kiss so I don't have to cross the room on my way out the door. It is the kiss and the smile she gives me when I leave. It is the look she gives me when she says, "I'll miss you." It is my reply of mutual affection and the reluctance I feel each day as I back out of the driveway.

Our love is me calling at lunch, sometimes late, and her eagerness to fill me in on the happenings of the morning. It is when our conversation is short because neither of us has anything to report, but it's so good to hear her voice anyway.

Our love is my call before I leave work, asking if I can pick up anything on the way home. It is me mustering all the energy left in my depleted reserves so I can have something to give when I return. It is her dinner preparations and valiant efforts to enlist the children's help--mostly for their own good--in cleaning and setting the table. It is the anticipation I feel when opening the door. It is the look of mixed relief and joy when she sees me again.

Our love is the welcome kiss and the tightness of our arms wrapped around each other as we give a quick squeeze before getting back to work.

Our love is the fifteen minutes of down time in the recliner in a darkened room that she gives me on days when she can see that I need it. It is the fifteen minutes of "time out" that I help her take on days when I can see that she needs it.

Our love is quieting six energetic children just long enough to give a prayer of thanks for the food, and the sincere thanks for the preparer of the food when I offer it. It is her gentle reminder to rotate the assignment when I've called on the same person to pray four times in a row. It is the happy conversation that permeates the rest of the meal.

Our love is the mutual willingness to jump right into the post-dinner responsibilities: encouraging the kids in their chores, doing baths, reading books, and telling bedtime stories. It is appreciating the variety offered by the occasional show or board game or forgotten homework assignment that sometimes throws off the routine. It is the joint effort to corral kids who each have more residual energy than both of us combined, and convincing them to quiet down once more, for just a minute or two, for our nightly family prayer. It is helping the youngest ones say their own prayers and express prompted, but deserved, gratitude for Mommy and Daddy. It is kissing goodnight and tucking in together.

Our love is collapsing in a heap on the couch after the house is finally quiet.

Our love is finding a second wind at that time, to play a game or watch a show, or more often, to finally just talk without competition. It is the fading light of the evening and the soft lamp-glow that highlights her features. It is moving to the same couch after enjoying looking across at her face, so we can hold hands. It is her head finding rest on my shoulder. It is the smell of her hair and the warmth of her cheek.

Our love is seamlessly sharing one sink during our bedtime hygiene rituals. It is kneeling down, clasping hands, and huddling together as we pray over the events of the day and the vast and varied needs of loved ones, our children, and each other. It is heartfelt expressions of gratitude for marriage and the joyful life we share.

Our love continues as the lights are turned off and she cuddles up to me, resting her head on my shoulder as my arm wraps around her. It is the conversation taking off again because we've got more to say.

Our love is our talk of problems and solutions, of goals and dreams, of memories past and those we hope to make. It is lists of things to do and things we love. It is planning a life--a long life--together.

Our love is the merging of two people so completely that we become one. It is the complete blank that comes into my mind when I try to imagine life without her. It is realizing that she is an inseparable part of me, the best part I have. It is the realization that our union is, in fact, meant to be eternal. It is realizing the full weight of what that means and that we are both perfectly, completely content, and even excited, to spend the next million years together--and an eternity after that.

Our love is drifting off to sleep with the sound of her breathing in my ear and the warmth of her body next to me. It is the sweet, worry-free oblivion that comes in large part because I know it will all repeat in the morning, with her at my side.

And so we go on. We've done this love thing every day in more or less this same fashion nearly 5000 times. We'll do it 5000 more, and then a million times after that. We wouldn't have it any other way. It's life--our life--and it's beautiful.

President Gordon B. Hinckley, a prophet of God, expressed the love he felt for his wife in this simple, yet eloquent way:

"...if you will bear with me, I wish to exercise a personal privilege. Six months ago... I stated that my beloved companion of 67 years was seriously ill. She passed away two days later....

"My children and I were at her bedside as she slipped peacefully into eternity. As I held her hand and saw mortal life drain from her fingers, I confess I was overcome. Before I married her, she had been the girl of my dreams, to use the words of a song then popular. She was my dear companion for more than two-thirds of a century, my equal before the Lord, really my superior. And now in my old age, she has again become the girl of my dreams....

"I am grateful to be able to say that in our long life together I cannot remember a serious quarrel. Small differences occasionally, yes, but nothing of a serious nature. I believe our marriage has been as idyllic as anyone’s could possibly be.

"I recognize that many of you are similarly blessed, and I compliment you most warmly, for when all is said and done there is no association richer than the companionship of husband and wife, and nothing more portentous for good... than the unending consequences of marriage."

I have tasted the beauty, depth, and richness of that holy association he describes. My wife and I love each other; and that love, being exactly what it is today, is more than enough.

New Non-Wife-Rule Blog

2011-02-06T21:15:00.001-08:00

I have consolidated my other blogging attempts into one catch-all non-Wife-Rules blog: Matt's Scratch Pad. I'll be adding stuff to it from time to time. It will probably remain a permanent resident in the header of this blog. I invite you to check it out.

Wife Rule #151: She is Beautiful

2011-01-23T20:51:00.000-08:00

My two-year-old daughter is very into pretty things--especially anything princess.

Today as I was dressing her for church, I slipped a beautiful velvet burgundy dress over her head. Then I draped the matching little jacket over her shoulders and fastened it around her neck with a button adorned with a faux diamond. I reached my fingers around the sides of her head and drew her soft, silky hair out of the dress and let it fall down her back until it settled near her waist. I turned her around and tied the dress in the back, then turned her back around for one more look. Gently reaching in and brushing a few stray hairs from her face, I looked into her angelic blue eyes.

"Charity, you're beautiful," I gushed at her, my voice full of tender, fatherly affection.

"Yes I am," was her matter-of-fact reply as she turned and skipped out of the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

"You're beautiful." "Yes I am." There was no doubt there, nor was there any hint of haughtiness. No shyness about it, nor air of superiority. There was just fact, that she is beautiful, and it didn't even occur to her to beat around the bush at admitting it.

If only all daughters could remain as pure and unspoiled as a two-year-old princess, the truth wouldn't be obscured by shame or pride. If only the incessant drone of the world didn't succeed so much in pushing a false standard of beauty that has so little to do with true worth. If only we could see ourselves as our Eternal Father sees us. Then, when He looks down on us with fatherly affection and strokes our hair and whispers "You're beautiful" we could reply with quiet confidence and certainty and admit "Yes, I am."

For every woman in the world, including my wife and daughters, is a daughter of God; and every daughter of God is a princess; and every princess is beautiful.

It's a simple fact.

Wife Rule #150: To the Angels

2010-12-21T09:58:00.000-08:00

The other day I awoke with thoughts and ideas floating around in my head--about Christmas time and the Savior's birth, and the good news brought by the angels, and all those loved ones who have enriched our lives and given us the gifts of faith, friendship, and love. I spent the next half hour trying to tie these thoughts together and write them down, and here is the result:

Beautiful Angels

Beautiful angels! They came to the family:
To Mary and Joseph and those whom they loved
To herald the coming of Jesus the Savior;
A message of peace to their hearts from above.
(Luke 1:26-38; Matthew 1:20-24; Luke 1:11-17)

Beautiful angels! They sang to the shepherds
The glorious message of peace on the earth.
With goodwill they hastened to see in the manger
The Christ child to find and adore at His birth.
(Luke 2:8-17)

Beautiful angels! In far lands proclaiming
Glad tidings of great joy to wise men and pure--
The prophecies spoken by those long before them
Fulfilled at His coming, their faith to make sure.
(Helaman 16:13-14)

Beautiful angels! In latter-days coming,
Proclaiming the Savior, His truth to restore
In heavenly fullness, His gospel returning
That again we may seek Him, and find, and adore!
(Joseph Smith History 1:30-34, D&C 110:11-16, Moroni 7:29-32)

Beautiful angels! Today they surround us;
Our hearts knit in love with these more common kind--
Our parents and siblings, our kind friends and neighbors--
Together we seek Him, together we find
In the love of “our angels” the Christ child we find!
(Mosiah 18:21)

As a fitting companion to these thoughts, I recalled these words spoken by Jeffrey R. Holland, a living Apostle of the Lord Jesus Christ:

“When we speak of those who are instruments in the hand of God, we are reminded that not all angels are from the other side of the veil. Some of them we walk with and talk with—here, now, every day. Some of them reside in our own neighborhoods. Some of them gave birth to us, and in my case, one of them consented to marry me. Indeed heaven never seems closer than when we see the love of God manifested in the kindness and devotion of people so good and so pure that angelic is the only word that comes to mind.”
(Jeffrey R. Holland, “The Ministry of Angels,” October 2008 General Conference of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints)

At this happy season, my wife and I sincerely want to express our thanks and love to the angels in our lives--both those whose celestial words we read in the holy scriptures, as well as those who, though mere mortals like the rest of us, nonetheless shine with celestial demeanor and whose service blesses our lives in countless ways during the everyday interactions we enjoy with you.

May God bless you for your love and may we all remember the King of kings and Lord of lords whose ministry and mission on earth was ordained for the express purpose of lifting our lives and transforming us all into celestial beings--into angels fit for the presence of God.

Wife Rule #149: Thanks for Everything

2010-11-29T20:50:00.000-08:00

To the subject of this blog and the love of my life:

It's been a long while since I've written about you, or our kids, or our lives together on this blog. I've composed many beautiful entries in my mind: from an account of our frosty, late fall camping trip among the red maples and the yellow aspens; to the festivities of Halloween and the success of our annual pumpkin party, the triumph of my porch decorations (a whole nest of falling spiders), and your supreme costume-creating skills; to our winter weekend spent eating Thanksgiving dinners with our families and hunting Christmas trees in waist-deep snow; as well as a hundred little things in between (including one very cute little thing who eats and smiles non-stop).

We've had a busy, crazy, wonderful, and stressful couple of months, and I want to thank you:

Thanks for loving me enough to pack up our little family of eight and sleep with us up in the mountains, packed like sardines into a pop-up trailer that is only built for six. As we learned while laying out the sleeping bags of the little ones, the game of Tetris would be a lot harder if the pieces squirmed around and kicked each other. I know it was hard with the baby there, but three peaceful days of doing basically nothing except cooking pancakes for two hours each morning, playing games each afternoon, sitting around fires each evening, and taking occasional walks through crunchy leaves wouldn't have been half so beautiful without you.

Thanks for supporting me in an extra busy time at work, when I have been less available during the day and more worn out each night when I return home.

Thanks for supporting me during what has felt like an extra busy time serving in our church. There is always more potential good to do than we could ever hope to accomplish. Thanks for recognizing that "wasting and wearing out our lives" (D&C 123:13) in the service of the Lord is the real reason we are here, and that we can accomplish so much more together than alone. I don't suppose we will ever have a break from serving the Master and I don't suppose I will ever want one as long as you are at my side.

Thanks for being a mother to six active, noisy, busy, and wonderful children. Each one bears the indelible stamp of your motherhood and the goodness and light you imbue them with radiates from them in the quiet times we have together. Thanks for helping so much to facilitate our daily routines of those things that matter most and help us keep our balance--family prayer, scripture study, dinner time, and all the other positive interactions we have throughout the day. I wouldn't be half the father I try to be without your constant example.

Thanks for being the most supportive, helpful, encouraging, and loving wife I could hope for. The constant grind of everyday life becomes bearable and even sometimes sweet because you are at the center of it. You make my day job more enjoyable because every minute that passes is one minute closer to the time I will return home to you. You make the mornings and evenings pleasant with your comforting presence. You make our home beautiful with your touch and style. You make my weekends wonderful with two days of togetherness. You truly make home a heaven on earth.

And most recently, thanks for spending hours today putting lights on the tree so that it would be ready for decorating with ornaments tonight when I got home. In the big scheme it could be considered a "little" thing, but when you're living at ground level with a hungry baby, children with lessons and parties to attend, a kitchen full of dishes, and a laundry room full of clothes to wash, I know it was a significant sacrifice to spend your time serving me in that way. My life is so much richer for all the "little" sacrificies you make every day that I seldom thank you adequately for.

I owe you so much, so much more than I can say. Please let this small expression of thanksgiving be just a token of the gratitude I feel so often, yet fail to express before it gets swallowed up in the churning rush of the tides of life. Thanks for everything.

Wife Rule #148: There is No Confusion

2010-10-06T22:23:00.000-07:00

There is a whole lot of confusion out in the world about the nature of women. In fact, I would submit that the vast majority of messages we receive from the world about a woman's role, value, and purpose are flat out wrong.

For example, there have long been widespread false beliefs that a woman is somehow inferior or subservient to a man. These beliefs have perpetuated unspeakable abuses and indignities throughout much of the world's history.

A particularly damning manifestation of this kind of disrespect is found in today's popular media, which more often than not portrays women as little more than creatures who exist merely to be sensually appealing to men. Far worse yet is the dehumanizing impact of pornography. These gross distortions not only deemphasize a woman's tremendous intrinsic value, but reduce her to a non-person--an object whose primary (or sole) purpose is for the gratification of the opposite sex.

Equally erroneous to these male-centric, chauvinistic views is the notion that a woman is superior to a man, that she doesn't want or need him, and that her highest potential is reached in spite of him.

A common aspect of this mistaken line of reasoning is the widely held belief that a woman's value is primarily derived from her degree of success in academic or professional pursuits--that these kind of worldly achievements somehow validate her true worth and that choosing a life as a full-time mother is a lesser accomplishment.

Then there are those women who have been so disappointed, disillusioned, disenfranchised, or distraught by the repeated abuses of men that they come to believe that their road to happiness involves avoiding men altogether.

As a father of four daughters, all of this concerns me deeply. I want for each of my daughters, more than anything, to understand her divine nature and reach her full potential. This goal and the means for achieving it are not to be found in the teachings of mankind. They are only found in the revealed words of God.

The prophet Joseph Smith once said, "If men [and women] do not comprehend the character of God, they do not comprehend themselves" (Teachings of the Prophet Joseph Smith, sel. Joseph Fielding Smith, Salt Lake City: Deseret Book Co., 1938, p. 343).

Today's world is full of women (and men) who chase a mere illusion of happiness when the true prize is 180 degrees in the opposite direction. These problems are largely caused by a lack of understanding about the nature of God, and the resulting confusion about ourselves.

Our Father in Heaven is, first and foremost, our father. He fathered our spirits, that immortal portion of our selves that thinks and gives personality and life to our mortal bodies. We are literal spiritual offspring of God as the apostle Paul repeatedly taught in New Testament times (Acts 17:28-29, Hebrews 12:9, Romans 8:16-17). In these latter days, God revealed this truth anew to the prophet Joseph Smith when He declared that we are, all of us, "begotten sons and daughters unto God" (D&C 76:24).

The magnitude of the implications of this eternal truth are staggering! If my precious daughters could learn just this one truth--that they are royal daughters, literally descended from a Heavenly King who loves them unconditionally--their lives will forever be on a different and vastly superior course than the women they see celebrated in the world.

For their true course and destiny does not lie in a misguided path into the mires of mortality and the pleasures of the world, but rather is a starry trail onward and upward towards celestial heights where their Father lives.

And He is not alone there.

One of the most critical truths for my daughters--and every woman and girl in this world--to learn is that our literal Father in Heaven holds that title and honor in equal partnership with a Woman. Yes, we have a Mother there--a divine, celestial Being who is the very embodiment of perfect virtue, purity, and love, who is in every way the Equal, Partner, and Divine Compliment to our Eternal Father. There never was a father without a mother. And indeed, He would not be who He is without Her.

Just as our sacred bodies are fashioned in their--our Heavenly Parents'--own image, male and female (see Genesis 1:26), so are our spirits. Within each of us is a spark of divinity with the potential to grow in brightness until it is perfected and we become--quite literally--just like our Heavenly Parents (see D&C 50:24, Matthew 5:48). The only course nature knows is for offspring to strive to grow to be like their parents, and in the divine nature of a daughter of Deity, this holds true.

Again, once these truths about the nature of God--and hence our own divine nature as God's offspring--sink in, our lives are changed forever.

There is no more confusion about where a woman's worth is found; it is derived from the fact that we are what the prophet Spencer W. Kimball called "gods in embryo" ("The Miracle of Forgiveness", page 286).

There is no more confusion about standards of dress or modesty, or the gravity of the sin of pornography; our bodies, created in God's own image, are not tools or toys for our own selfish use; they are sacred and hold the very key to our becoming like Him.

There is no more confusion about the vital importance of sexual purity before marriage and complete fidelity within marriage; a companionship meant to be eternal should be entered into with complete respect and preserved with complete trust.

There is no more confusion about the purpose of sex; it is not for selfish gratification, but rather for the creation of life and the forging and strengthening of eternal bonds of love between husband and wife. It is the procreative power that plays a vital part in the highest and holiest roles of celestial beings.

There is no more confusion about the importance or nature of marriage; it is an essential institution which only has meaning between man and woman, and which every man and woman should seek with their whole hearts--for without it we cannot become as our Heavenly Parents. Truly one of the most important decisions we will ever make is to marry the right person in the right place by the right authority. It just may determine our eternal happiness.

There is no more confusion about the proper place of parenting among the priorities of life; if our Heavenly Father defines Himself by his role as the Father of humanity, and His divine parental position is only attainable through His partnership with our Mother, then the role of father and mother should be placed above all other earthly roles except the foundational spousal roles upon which they rest. No learning, career, fame, or fortune can or should replace the sacred roles of parenting; these all amount to short-lived vanity that will vanish away when our lives end. Our highest calling in this life and the next is to emulate our Heavenly Parents.

There is no question about how a man should treat his wife (and by extension, all other women); he should honor her as a daughter of God, a sacred companion, an equal partner, and the very key to his eternal progression and happiness, without whom he would be doomed to an eternity of a static life without posterity or meaningful progression. He should be anxious for her happiness and foster the development of her abilities--especially those divine attributes found in marriage and motherhood.

There is no question about how a woman should treat her husband (and by extension, all other men); she should honor him as a son of God and help cultivate in him--and expect from him--the very highest of behaviors and noblest of attributes befitting one who has joined with her in a divine partnership. She should help him remember that his highest, most important roles are with her, in their home, where they share equal responsibility as partners and parents.

There is no more confusion about the vital importance of virtue, honesty, integrity, industry, chastity, and every other godlike attribute we seek to attain; every one of these is an attribute of the Father and Mother we aspire to imitate.

There is no more confusion about the need for a Savior; if He calls us to perfection, and indeed He does, then we are doomed to failure without His atoning blood to redeem us from our sins, to raise our bodies from death, and to ultimately transform us into the sons and daughters of God we are meant to be. Only men and women who understand the true nature of the heights He aspires to raise them to can truly appreciate the depths of his condescension and the magnitude of what He has done for us. His grace is eternal and infinite. We can spend our entire lives in His service and never even come close to giving to Him what is His due as the Savior of our souls. We owe Him everything.

These are just a few of the things I hope--with all my heart--that my daughters discover in their journey to know God and thus comprehend themselves. The world provides a laboratory for our learning, but the source of eternal truth is above this world. That is where a true woman discovers her worth and inspiration.

Wife Rule #147: Celebrate the Miracles

2010-09-21T19:14:00.000-07:00

Our world abounds in miracles, and I had cause to enumerate just a few of them during the birth of our newest child.

She was born into a world of artificial light, artificial climate control, and a thousand other "non-natural" inventions that make our modern lives so comfortable. Everything--from the lights and the sounds of beeping monitors to the softness of the machine-woven sheets, to the I.V. tube supplying mother and baby with supplementary hydration, to the very air we were breathing--seemed to be filtered and shaped and molded by the miracles of modern technology, optimally suited for bringing a new life into the world.

This carefully crafted world of sheet-rock and paint, of smooth, shiny, tile floors, of tightly woven carpeting, indoor plumbing, and hand sanitizer dispensers attached to the walls, was the environment that welcomed our baby. She entered a man-made world propped up by electrical grids, fiber optics, silicon circuits, plumbing systems, and fossil fuels. It would be several days before she would first fill her little lungs with fresh, natural air.

Of course, when it comes to birthing, I wouldn't trade places with anyone in anytime of the world's history. I'm all for making the grand entrance of a new child as comfortable and safe as possible, and I am most grateful for all those who contributed to the environment and expertise we enjoy today.

Yet the biggest miracle of the whole process was not due to any of these hand-crafted solutions born of mankind's collective knowledge. When you strip away all the inventions of our hands, and reduce the Great Miracle to its most fundamental, raw form, it is found embedded in our marvelous bodies--bodies that are created in God's own image and carry His divine stamp of workmanship. This primeval, natural "technology" is as old as the human race, Adam and Eve being the first of our family to utilize it in bringing life into the world.

It began as microscopic processes worked at the molecular level to jump start the development of our new child. This amazing, invisible, incredibly complex, self-perpetuating machine was deliberately planted in a perfectly suited habitat within my wife's womb. Week after week, month after month, subtle yet significant changes occurred as the developing fetus took on the form of her father and mother, growing into "our own image" one cell division at a time.

When the time was right, my wife's amazing body turned on a switch that began a series of programmed steps which have been encoded into her DNA for just a few, critical uses during her lifetime. These involuntary impulses are uniquely suited to move along the process of birth, as the distended muscles around her abdomen contract sharply: pushing, pushing, pushing. Conscious control helps the process along in a remarkable harmony of voluntary and involuntary exertion.

At the point when the labor pains reach a fevered pitch and the cry of travail is high in the air, the artificial world around us dissolves and for a few critical moments all that exists are my wife, and the baby, and me, the observer. I witness this moment as some sacred, invisible boundary is crossed: the edges of Heaven and Earth stretch and extend until they momentarily touch, and then are pierced by the entrance of another soul into mortality.

As for the baby, in just a few seconds the amazing body she inhabits performs nearly simultaneous, once-in-a-lifetime changes designed to transform her from a being wholly dependent on another, into a self-sustaining system. Heart valves close and open, taking control of and rerouting the circulatory system; lungs fill with terrestrial air for the first time; a previously unneeded digestive tract begins churning, bringing powerful sensations that will be the main driving force of her behavior for months to come; eyes receive their first rays of unobstructed light and color; ears are taken from their environment of comfortable, rhythmic, underwater roaring into an alien and relatively quiet world of artificial humming and beeping mixed with new sounds of human life; lips and tongue search frantically for the source of nourishment that will keep this marvelous machine running at top performance; and vocal chords erupt for the first time in that characteristic but fleeting, tell-tale squall of new and vibrant life.

I am quickly brought back into our modern world as clamps are applied and I am handed a scissor to cut the child forever loose. Then she is whisked away for a few moments to be measured and wiped and poked and prodded and measured some more. The exact program they follow evolves as the years pass and technology advances and human knowledge increases.

But that most significant part of childbirth--the part signified by blood and water and spirit, and which takes place out of reach of human hands, solely within the realm of the bodies of mother and child, and which is governed alone by our Great Creator--is as old as eternity, and is still by far the most glorious part of the process. Whether in a primitive shelter thousands of years ago, or a modern sterilized hospital, that most sublime and wondrous miracle--the miracle of Human Life--marches on in splendor and majesty every time a mother descends into the valley of the shadow of death in order to bring a new life into the world.

I observe it--and celebrate it--in awe.

Wife Rule #146: It's Summer-time (and I am Tired)

2010-09-14T20:52:00.000-07:00

I am tired.

Our little baby girl, Summer, seems to be a permanently attached fixture to my wife.

That means that she's busy all day, and up much of the night.

Except when she pleads with me and I stumble out to take the occasional turn for an hour or so, typically around four o'clock AM.

I've been back to work for a month now. The three oldest kids are back in school. Andrew started preschool. Charity started a playgroup. We have two piano players and three soccer players. Routines and schedules must be followed. Including early-morning schedules. Sleeping in is not an option, and I'm trying to exercise again.

Wonderful friends and family brought in a lot of meals after the birth, but even the leftovers are only a fond memory now. That means the family has been enduring repeat selections from Dad's "instant meal" repertoire: the kind I can scrap together with whatever food I thought to buy on the way home from work, the last time I thought to stop.

Because my wife is always feeding the baby.

Which means we're eating later. And cleaning up later. And going to bed later.

And I am tired.

The laundry is piling up. The house is getting messier, and I don't have energy to clean, or to get the kids to clean. My wife wants to clean, but spends nearly all of her time captive and immobilized.

She is often totally wiped out.

A few weeks ago I fell asleep during church choir practice. The sofa I was sitting on was a tad too comfy. They still laugh about it.

The lawn is growing. The weeds are happy.

But it's all okay. My wife and I are happy too. We have a healthy, beautiful baby girl.

And Summer smiled at me again tonight.

Wife Rule #145: Sometimes One Is Enough

2010-08-23T13:00:00.000-07:00

One of the great things about marriage is that there are two of you accomplishing what couldn't be done by one alone. Some things, like babies, are impossible to accomplish alone. Another great benefit, however, is the reverse: sometimes there are things that one person can accomplish for two. Husbands and wives thus fulfill complimentary roles, sort of filling in each others' gaps, enriching both partners.

I had such an experience the night I wrote the previous Wife Rule, the one where I waxed super-sentimental about my wife and newborn daughter. As I was sitting there, rocking my child in her sleep, feeling so full of love, my wife looked up from her reading.

"You're feeling all sentimental," she observed by a quick look into my beaming face. Then she continued, "I'm sorry I can't join you right now. I'd love to, but I'm reading about zombies."

Sometimes one of us is enough.

Wife Rule #144: It's a Grand Night for Singing

2010-08-09T22:35:00.000-07:00

I got an early start this morning and had fed the kids breakfast and begun the process of draining the kiddie pool out back (so I could move it again and kill a new spot of grass) before it was even nine o'clock. I got the kids started on their morning chores, mowed the lawn, tightened up the badminton net, trimmed the roses, pulled a weed or two, and enlisted the kids' help in washing the algae out of the pool before beginning the refill.

By 10:30 we were on our way to the new public splash pad, where I enjoyed a full hour of wading in the current and taking snapshots of the kids as they splashed in the various fountains and taunted each other. Charity was startled by the first gush of spray as the system turned on shortly after our arrival and never entered the water again, but still managed to have fun playing on the grass. She was just as cute in her pink tutu swimming suit (with ruffly skirt!) out of the water as she would have been in.

Afterwards we stopped at the shaved ice shack and ordered six small cups (including one in a pink flavor called "Barbie" for you-know-who, which ended up fully spilled into her car seat by the time we arrived home). We also stopped at the hardware store to pick up a few items for a bathroom counter repair I've needed to make for several months now. We even got the mail.

Lunch was a snap though it took me a while to get it ready, and afterwards I started on the counter project until it was time to put Charity down for a nap. Then the four older kids and I walked over to the park and played the 18-hole Frisbee golf course (9 separate posts, played once in each direction).

By the time we got home it was too late to finish the counter, but early enough to shower (finally) and snag a fifteen minute nap before the preparations began for dinner. A few unexpected phone calls later and the day was spent. Of course, that didn't mean work was over. Dinner, clean up, and our traditional Monday family night, followed by a chapter aloud in the novel we have been reading together, and then the routine teeth-brushing, prayer-saying, storybooks, and tucking-in fully exhausted the rest of the day.

I never made it into the office. I am on paternity leave.

(insert cheers and congratulations here)

It's a welcome chance to catch up and keep the kids occupied and occasionally away so that my wife can catch a little rest and quiet time with the new wee one.

Now it's dark outside and the chaos and bustle of the day is over. I finally find myself with the opportunity to hold our new arrival, who has been freshly fed and changed and is actually still awake. And for once there's not even any competition or complaining about turns or fairness from the other kids, who normally inundate the poor little thing with a suffocating amount of love and attention, but who are all currently in their respective beds.

So I sit down with my new daughter in the rocker for a little one-on-one Daddy Time. She is dressed in a fuzzy sleeper with a pastel pattern of something cute and babyish. Her eyes are wide open, and she seems to have an unusual interest in the male half of her parentage. It's a good thing too, since I did contribute to the effort of getting her here, at least a little bit.

I begin to rock and sing to her (for what else is a Daddy to do?). The first tune that comes to mind is one I have sung as a lullaby for years now, I'm trying to be like Jesus. While I softly deliver the melody in a baritone key, she looks intently into my eyes.

She has the deepest blue eyes--I would say almost black, but her pupils are still distinct, surrounded by midnight blue. Her long, dark-brown hair falls in subtle curls on her forehead. It's well over an inch long and still has the pink miniature bow glued into it that the nurses at the hospital nursery put in after her first bath. They loved having a baby there whose hair they could style, and though they never actually said it, I could tell they thought she was the cutest baby they'd seen in a long time.

She seems to enjoy the first song, so I start into another: I am a Child of God. As I repeat the well-loved lyrics "I am a child of God and He has sent me here; has given me an earthly home with parents kind and dear," I almost discern a slight smile on her lips. She has the same pleasant, little rosebud mouth with a full lower lip as her big sister Charity--which means that she can make that same irresistible pouty face and receive big-lipped kisses from Daddy (I've already tried that out. Several times).

And speaking of kissing, we can't overlook the beautiful, flushed cheeks that grace her mouth on either side, of such perfect proportion as to cast her little round face to the aspect of a cherub. Many times I have bestowed my gentlest kiss on those cheeks, and in special rare instances (subject to availability, limited time offer, can change without notice, etc.), when she rears back her head for a stretch I have buried my lips in the super-soft creases of the skin in her tiny neck.

As I study her face, it does seemed imbued with a heavenly glow--of innocence, of freshness, and of complete trust and dependence. Her eyes, still fixed intently on mine as I rock her and sing, seem to see through me, penetrating to the very depths of my soul, and communicate a clear message: Love me. Protect Me. Shelter Me. Teach me.

These thoughts mesh perfectly with the lullaby as I finish the last chorus: "Lead me, guide me, walk beside me, help me find the way. Teach me all that I must do to live with Him someday."

There is a soft smile in her eyes and they begin to close as I start into the next number, O My Father. The words of that hymn so perfectly describe the journey this precious little soul has just made, traveling from "a more exalted sphere" into this simple, happy life with her mother and me (and her five noisy siblings). I sing all four verses to her, leaning in close, expelling just enough breath to produce the notes. By the end her eyes are closed. She never looked away; she drifted into pleasant slumber still fully engaged with me.

I look down at this babe in my arms. My hand is stretched across hers, completely covering most of her arms and chest. She startles a bit as I move it, and wrap her fingers around one of mine. I study the marvelous detail in her baby hands--such perfect little fingers with their infinitesimal joints and nails. Her body is truly a gift--a glorious creation from a loving God.

She is asleep, but I finish my serenade with the classic song Stardust, for its outstanding melody and the pure joy of singing.

When the last hum has died away, I continue rocking her in the silence. I cannot tear my eyes away from her. I study her perfect little body again, offering a silent prayer of thanks to the loving Father who brought her here safe and whole. I marvel that He would share this sacred experience--fatherhood--with me, and lend me one of His pure, choice children for a few precious years here on earth.

She lets out the slightest sigh, and brings me back to this room. I look over and see my wife reading on the couch, her beautiful, soft face illuminated by warm, yellow lamp light. Suddenly I sense the overwhelming fullness--the atmosphere seems thick with the pure, celestial joy that must surely be a shadow of the sweetest glories our Heavenly Parents enjoy. I thank her--my wife--for giving me this chance. For giving me a chance at all.

I sit there, mesmerized and completely entranced: my daughter in my arms, my wife a few feet away, and my heart full to the point of spilling over. I am lost again, drifting away somewhere between a dream and a poem. A pleasant, sublime heat rises in my chest and swells up to my face. I stare at the perfect, glorious child nestled within my arms and a single tear wells up in the corner my eye and is released, tickling my cheek as it descends towards this pure, celestial being.

I am a father. Again, for the sixth time now, I am a father!

Wife Rule #143: We're Just Normal Folks

2010-07-11T23:30:00.000-07:00

Despite the way I sometimes gush over the many virtues of my wife on this blog (and they are real), to be totally honest, my wife and I are both pretty regular folks. I don't mean to belittle her in any way by saying that. It's just that there will always be many--probably millions--of people who are smarter, more talented, better looking, more wealthy, more influential, more admired, and so forth and so on, than us. And at the end of the day, I recognize that our time on this globe will come and go and only a fraction of a fraction of a fraction of a percent of the people in this world will even have known we were here.

I'm okay with that.

I was talking with an old friend last week who, during the course of the last decade since we have had any contact, has lost his faith. He no longer believes in the same things I do. He claims he no longer believes in God. We were talking about life and goals just a little, and he spoke of "trying to leave his mark" on the world. I suppose that when you deny the reality of an afterlife, there's no purpose left in this brief life but to "leave your mark" here. You're born, and just a few years later, poof, you vanish forever. No wonder he clings to the notions of worldly honor and importance, no matter how short-lived.

I understand how he feels, just a bit. I have been there. In the ambitious vanity of youth I once thought I was really something, and must be destined for something really great. My wife caught just a little of that bug in her earlier years, too. We were both high achievers, and the thought of just being "normal" wasn't really in the cards as we each looked toward a future of limitless possibility.

But with our youth largely in the rear-view mirror now, we have something that usually--okay, often--all right, sometimes--drives such ambitious (and to be brutally honest, selfish) thoughts from our minds: we have each other. We have a common goal and through experience, a much deeper understanding of our Heavenly Father's plan for families. According to the knowledge in our heads and in our hearts, nothing else really matters.

And I mean that: nothing matters in this life except doing all that is necessary to get our family--our personal family first, followed by our extended family, and finally the worldwide family--back home to God.

So why, during even our brightest moments of eternal clarity, do the vain ambitions of this world still linger in the wings, waiting for their chance to take center stage again? Why the hunger for the temporal, when the eternal hangs in the balance?

Do you remember the story of Jacob and Esau? Though they were twins, only one could have the birthright and the accompanying blessings and responsibilities. Esau came out first, with Jacob only moments behind; but the birthright belonged to Esau. It was Jacob, however, that valued the birthright and what it truly meant as the one to take on his father's name and role and care for the family. So he devised a plan to assist Esau in forfeiting the birthright: he simply waited until Esau was hungry enough, and then offered to let Esau "sell" his birthright for a mess of pottage. And Esau took him up on his offer, giving away a priceless right and responsibility for a moment of temporal gratification (see Genesis 25:24-34).

A mess of pottage. A meal. A quarter-pounder with cheese.

But isn't that all that this earth life is? Even the most famous, the most influential, the most wealthy, and the most powerful people in this world die, usually within mere decades of the flowering of their personal empires. When they do, their earthly power and wealth vanish instantaneously as they take their last breath. It is, all of it, nothing more than a mess of pottage.

God created this world to be the place of testing and trying for His children, with the sole purpose of allowing us to exercise our agency to choose Him and His plans for us over all else. He sent us away from home, out into an enticing world of distractions and temptations, so that we could have the chance to truly "test our metal." His plan calls for the extension of family ties into eternity, that we may emulate Him in every respect, "grow up" to be like Him, and carry on His work forever. He knows what true joy is, and He knows that it can only be attained by living the kind of life He lives. Of course He wants to share that with His children. He wants to give us the birthright. Will we take it, or exchange it for nothing, for pottage?

So what if my wife and I are perfectly, remarkably, normal? It simply doesn't matter. The scope of our potential together--and the potential of every single husband and wife in God's plan--is infinite. Infinite! As infinite as the life of the soul is, so is the joy of those who attain the purposes God created them for. As infinite as the love of God is for His children, so will be the love that a single couple can attain to, and share, and shower upon their own eternal families, worlds without end.

And best of all, there isn't just one birthright. The blessings are there to claim for all who will. So in reality, there is no competition. There is no shortage of reward. There is no reason that every one of God's children cannot have what my wife and I are striving to obtain. Jesus paved the way for us all. The way is open and free for all.

So when we "get in our right minds," of course we are happy to be nothing more than normal, average folks. There is a spark of divinity in normal, average folks that given the right care, will fan into an all-consuming fire of purity and goodness and light and life that knows no bounds and never ends.

Eternal life--merely an extension of the best parts of family life we enjoy here on earth--was made for normal folks like us.

Wife Rule #142: Give It Up (Or, Rumination on Socks)

2010-07-06T19:50:00.000-07:00

The Sock War is raging: the battle's begun,
The odds stacked against me, it's now six on one.
The front is our home; sock-mines litter the field.
Each stocking a stinking, curt weapon to wield
Against my poor saneness, forlorn and alone,
The casualties mounting, and no one has won, yes,
With casualties, no one has won.

Why bother with socks? Reason gives them no sway.
My cotton-clad feet stand aloof in display
Of sound sense and judgement, of propriety while
Their barefooted, bohemian, naked-foot style
Prevails in our household; itself not a crime
Were it not for the sodden, soiled socks left behind, yes,
The sodden, soiled socks left behind.

They cling to the couches, flung carelessly there.
They clump in the cracks of our best reading chair.
They litter the hallways, the closets, the stairs.
They migrate great distance, though never in pairs.
They pile up at doorways, for who could suppose
Wearing footwear outside? For that matter, why clothes? Yes,
For that matter, why-the-heck even clothes?

Look here, there's a stocking; another is there.
Look around and you'll see dirty socks everywhere.
(Except when we're rushing to leave, and we're late;
Then each stocking's mysteriously missing its mate.)
And the laundry rolls on in its regular round
But when folding and pairing, no pairs can be found, yes
When pairing no pairs can be found.

So the war rages on, with no allies for me;
Even my normally-sensible wife won't agree.
With her love of the breeze, her zest for aeration,
Her sympathies lie opposite my frustration.
So the foot cannons fire, fetid fumes fill the air,
And surrounding me lie littered socks everywhere, yes,
Surrounding me, socks everywhere.

I'm simply outnumbered. I've lost. I'm too few.
What's a sensible, sock-wearing man now to do?
So I'll lay down my weapons, emerge from my trench,
And remove my own stockings, unleashing my stench.
And to prove my good will, though they'll faint from the shock,
I'll run up the white flag:
My old, smelly sock.
Yes--
I'll give them my old,
Peeled-off, partially-rolled,
Dingy white, golden-toed,
Thinning, soil-stained, brown-soled,
Filled with stenches untold,
Chilling sight to behold,
Filthy squeamish,
And greenish,
And covered-with-mold
--yes,
Give it up for my old, smelly sock!

Wife Rule #141: Love the Little Things

2010-06-22T19:10:00.000-07:00

She screamed at me last night, and was still sobbing when I shut the door, leaving her alone in the dark. It didn't sound to me like a sincere cry, but one of those meant only to manipulate another into giving in.

I wouldn't give in, for her own good. But I still hate ending a day that way.

This morning, as I was shaving, she tentatively opened the bathroom door. When she saw me glance her way approvingly, she entered in, all smiles and sunshine, like a fresh, morning breeze. She never spoke, but she communicated plainly. Her blue eyes connected with mine, a look of pure love shining from them, her mouth drawn into a wide, beaming smile. She was happy, so happy, to see me--just as I was to see her again, after a whole night apart.

As I turned to comb my hair, she reached into the drawer. When I next glanced down at the counter, the toothpaste tube had been placed carefully next to my toothbrush, waiting for me.

She is always anxious to serve.

She never holds a grudge.

She melts me with her smiles.

And she is barely two years old.

I love being a dad (and I have my wife to thank for it).

Wife Rule #140: I Like Your Sweater

2010-06-04T07:00:00.000-07:00

"Heya Loose... nice...sweatah"

So goes one of the least effective pickup lines ever read by an actor on the big screen, as masterfully delivered with a thick Brooklyn accent by Joe Fusco, Junior, in the classic 90's movie While You Were Sleeping. The object of his affection was Lucy, the pretty protagonist as played by Sandra Bullock. Poor Joe Junior, with his greasy undershirt and overextended gut, never had a chance.

This line came to mind as I was in our closet this morning and noticed a cream-colored sweater lying neatly folded on one of my wife's shelves.

When I was making my first lame attempts with my future wife to begin some type of relationship, or to just try to have another conversation, or merely to "get a foot in the door" in her attentions--you know, the part in the love story where the nerdy guy tries desperately to come up with something to say to the pretty girl, when in fact, his mouth has gone dry and his knees are wobbly and his mind is completely blank--I unwittingly channeled Joe Junior and out popped a compliment about her sweater. Never mind that I had not yet seen the movie, nor that her sweater was actually rather plain (as she laughed about with her roommate later that day). It was the best I had at the moment.

For the record, it was a burgundy, textured sweater with a high neck that did bring out the blue of her oversized eyes and the glimmer of her golden locks, and she did look great in it.

But in my spluttered compliment I undoubtedly gave too much emphasis to the sweater. It was really her. It was always her.

Nonetheless, a sort of "sweatah thing," however ill-conceived it was, was born. I always enjoyed the way my wife-to-be looked in a nice sweater. So naturally, after my wooing attempts proved successful and she had promised herself to me for life, it wasn't too long thereafter that I bought her a sweater.

It was my first--and last--attempt to ever buy her clothes.

After twelve years of marriage I am now wise enough to know that it is entirely possible that I could seriously mess up the simple task of buying her socks (what's wrong with men's athletic tube socks? I wear them every day). It's Barbie's job to dress Ken, not the other way around.

But in my honest-to-goodness newlywed naivety, I did buy her a sweater. I did. I liked the color. I think it was even on sale.

She has given it a token wear a few times over the years, but I don't think she ever took to liking it much, any more than Lucy ever took to liking the idea of a romance with Joe Junior.

But she still has it. She hasn't yet been able to give it away. It stays there, folded neatly on her shelf, a constant, sweet reminder of our first months and years together--a token of that precious time when we didn't have much, but we did have each other, and we did have love. And our honest attempts to show that love, however flawed they might have been, were as sincere and as pure as anything we have ever done.

And because of that, my love, I still like your sweater.

Wife Rule #139: Pay Homage to the Everything Fairy

2010-05-18T22:15:00.000-07:00

You know those stories of magical beings who come to your home in the middle of the night and do things for you? They accomplish tasks such as mending shoes, delivering presents, collecting old teeth, cleaning the toilets, etc.?

Well, there's one of those who, it turns out, comes to my home every night: the Everything Fairy.

Until tonight.

She's currently in Missouri, having flown there by commercial pixie dust just earlier this afternoon. I think this may be the first time she has gone without taking any of the kids with her. Truthfully, it's kind of funny how much I already miss her. Yes, of course I miss her soft lips and warm embrace, but all of a sudden I feel very conscious of all the things she does around here that I have blissfully taken for granted for far too long.

She wrote out a partial list of them and stuck it to our fridge before she left. The list includes "Water Plants," "Get Mail," "Afternoon Chores," "Soccer Practices," and other such things that you would expect. But it only took me about 10 minutes after arriving back home after dropping her off at the airport to realize that it's a rather shallow and incomplete list of all that must be done to replace the Everything Fairy, even for just a few days.

Here are a few more items that should be added to the list:

* Discern what things to save and what to throw away of the papers the kids bring home from school
* Have answers to any questions from any of the kids other than "Hmmmmm. We'll have to ask your mother."
* Provide food more nutritious than Little Caesar's Pizza and Cap'n Crunch for dinner
* Be able to calm the Mommy's girl when she freaks out upon seeing Big Brother's belly button in the bathtub
* Stay coherent even when it's late and actually get the kids to bed somewhat close to their bed times
* Have enough sense to push stop on the CD player after the CD has repeated for the 3rd time
* Pick up that dang little sock that's been in the middle of the carpet all evening--it ain't going anywhere on it's own (I've always wondered; now I know)
* Get me to bed on time rather than rambling pointlessly on this blog
* Make our house feel a little more like a home

So, my lovely Everything Fairy, here's to you. I appreciate you better now than I did yesterday, and I'm sure I'll appreciate you much more tomorrow than today. By the time you return, you'll likely be swimming in drippy pools of appreciation.

You hurry on back home, y'hear?

Wife Rule #138: She is my Universe

2010-05-02T22:00:00.000-07:00

There are a great many distractions and temptations in this fallen world where we live. It was meant to be this way. Living in this condition tests us to our very cores and helps us to know, to the deepest degree, whether we will prize and prioritize that which is most precious above all, when there seems to be a million other things clamoring for our time and attention.

Sometimes it is refreshing to "get above it all," to a place where the haze and confusion clears and where we can see to far-off, and far better places. I visited such a place this past weekend.

My wife and I returned to where we were married, to the temple where our kingdom began. We remembered that day, and in so doing we renewed our vows to each other and to the God whose authority binds us together as husband and wife for all eternity. And this thought came into my mind:

She is my universe.

Yes, indeed, she is my universe. A commitment of love, friendship, loyalty, and fidelity between a husband and wife that has no end does, in effect, rule out any and all other lesser priorities, distractions, and temptations.

She is my universe.

Our wedding vows have no end. We were married in a place and by authority that transcends this dim, mortal existence, into far brighter and better spheres. Our union will go on forever, if we will choose to make it last forever. The sometimes happy, sometimes arduous journey my wife and I are on, if we prove faithful, leads to an ever-expanding kingdom that literally has no end.

God has laid the path before us. The immortality of the human soul is a fact and a forgone conclusion; the quality of life we will live is highly variable, and is completely up to us.

If I allow her to truly become my universe--so that our marriage and family becomes central to every goal I make and every endeavor I undertake; so that my love for her supersedes all other interests and distractions in life; so that she becomes the preeminent figure in my world, excelling all except the God who gives us life and salvation and enables our hope for an eternal union; if I look ahead to the potential of every husband and wife so joined by eternal authority--there really is no end to what we can create together. There is an entire, infinite universe embedded in the souls of two people who love each other with their whole hearts and who follow God's laws relating to that love. Our universe is waiting, wanting to unfold, and all wrapped up in our vows to live in love together.

When I have such thoughts in my head, and such feelings of divine love and anticipation in my heart, she truly becomes my universe.

What a wonderful way to begin the rest of forever.

Wife Rule #137: I'll Take the Minivan

2010-04-18T20:53:00.000-07:00

I can't really say
That I traded in my sports car for a minivan
Because I never had a sports car
We had each other and bills and a baby
before we even finished college

So
When the fourth baby came
We traded in our sensible, family sedan
(It was gray because that's what was in the used car lot)
For a minivan
But baby, it's still hot

Tonight it was filled to capacity
With a raucous chorus
Singing the tune (more or less)
Of a favorite family song
Even the baby,
Number five,
Was cooing along in rhythm
A rear-view mirror full of joy

Without you,
My Love,
There would be no chorus
No favorite family song
And certainly no minivan
Only traffic in the rear-view mirror
Of (perhaps) my sports car
And an empty seat beside me

So next time you ask me which car I'll take
I'll take the minivan

Wife Rule #136: Why I Love Your Mother (to my children) -- Epilogue: Why I Wrote This

2010-04-11T20:24:00.000-07:00

And he did exhort them then with all the feeling of a tender parent....
--1 Nephi 8:37

My precious daughters and sons, when I first wrote this, most of you were too young to read it--not too young to comprehend most of the concepts, for they are simple enough for children, but the language I used and the quotes I cited were generally above your reading skills at the time. So you may wonder why I wrote this. I want to tell you.

First of all, I knew when I wrote this that you would not always be so young. Like the prophet Enos, each of you would, at some point in your life, have an experience wherein your "soul hungered" (see Enos 1:4) to know and understand the things of eternity. When that critical time came, I hoped by writing this ahead of time, that these words might play some part in allowing you to say, as did Enos, that "the words which I had often heard my father speak concerning eternal life, and the joy of the saints, sunk deep into my heart" (Enos 1:3).

Second, it is the right and duty of a father to teach the truth to his children. Despite the countless prophets, teachers, and parents before me who have known and written about these truths, there is something intrinsically valuable in hearing these words from the mouth of your own father. I know this from firsthand experience, as my own father's testimony has played a critical and continuing role in the development of my understanding and appreciation of the truth. By writing down this abbreviated summary of the most plain and precious truths I know--those which give context and meaning to everything else in life--I am following in this great tradition. Since the days of Adam, the great patriarchs each took care to pass along the knowledge they possessed to their children. I follow the example of Adam, Noah, Abraham, Isaac, Israel, Moses, Lehi, Nephi, Benjamin, Alma, Helaman, Mormon, and countless others in doing so. It is my right to do so, and it is your right to hear it.

Third, I wrote this to follow the counsel of modern day prophets who have asked us to share our testimonies with the world (see Elder Ballard's words on the subject, in “Sharing the Gospel Using the Internet,” Ensign, Jul 2008, 58–63). The miracle of the Internet allows any lowly guy such as your father to publish his beliefs to the world. My few drops of truth might help just a bit to balance out the vast sea of misinformation about God's plan and His truth that exists in the world. It is even possible that someone will find these words and be touched by my testimony enough to want to learn more about how to begin the process of coming closer to Christ. Impacting even one soul--especially yours--would make the effort to write all of this worth it (D&C 18:10-11).

Fourth, I want to provide an example for you. Your mother and I have something very special--and unfortunately, unusual--in our marriage. We love each other completely. We love you completely. We have been loved by our parents completely. And we love the Lord completely. So much of this love flows from understanding--and choosing to follow--God's plan for families. Too few understand this plan, but it was not meant to be so. Every one of God's children--including you--was meant to have all that He has. But in order to achieve God's goals for us, it is essential to understand what those goals are and how to attain them. I hope to point you in that direction. I want you to each have all that your mother and I share, as well as the infinite increase above what we now enjoy, which is attainable only through God's grace and by following His plan.

And lastly, perhaps the most basic reason of all for writing this is that the truth of God is in my heart. I simply cannot help but to let it out, to make some attempt to share what I have. The prophet Jeremiah described very well how I feel about this: "[God's] word was in mine heart as a burning fire shut up in my bones, and I was weary with forbearing, and I could not stay" (Jeremiah 20:9).

And so it is. The truth of God--His eternal laws, ordinances, plans, attributes, goodness, grace, justice, and mercy--burn in my heart like a fire that would consume me if I kept it to myself. I know that God lives. I know that Jesus Christ came to save, purify, and perfect--to transform into godly beings--as many as will use their agency to follow the path He laid before us. I know that our Heavenly Father has prepared a plan for families to be eternally united in happiness which is beyond our mortal understanding. I know that He has called prophets in the latter days, beginning with Joseph Smith, and given them the priesthood and the very keys to the kingdom of God, including the power to seal families together forever. I know that this power has continued in an unbroken chain to the present day, and that it exists only in the true church of Jesus Christ, wherein can also be found the whole of the truth that God has been presently revealed for the salvation of mankind. I know that the Book of Mormon, the Bible, and our other scriptures contain this truth. I have known much of this since my childhood, and you can know it too.

Moroni promised that "by the power of the Holy Ghost ye may know the truth of all things" (Moroni 10:4-5). There is no other way to know the truth; our minds are simply too small to reason the "big picture" out without God's help. Go to our Heavenly Father in prayer. Ask him to reveal anew the truth of His plan to you. You will come to know that you are a child of God. You will have, kindled in your heart, the fire of truth. It will change your life--your future marriage, your family, and the way you look at yourself and every other person on earth--forever.

I know this because it has changed me, and continues to do so, as I strive to draw ever closer to Jesus Christ and our Father in Heaven, as well as to my wife, your dear mother. This is a quest that will go on forever, worlds without end.

Part twelve of a twelve-chapter essay. Read more: Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch 7 | Ch 8 | Ch 9 | Ch 10 | Ch 11 | Epilogue

Wife Rule #135: Why I Love Your Mother (to my children) Chapter Eleven: The What-About's, the What-If's, and the Justice of God

2010-04-04T20:01:00.000-07:00

The Standard of Truth has been erected; no unhallowed hand can stop the work from progressing; persecutions may rage, mobs may combine, armies may assemble, calumny may defame, but the truth of God will go forth boldly, nobly, and independent, till it has penetrated every continent, visited every clime, swept every country, and sounded in every ear; till the purposes of God shall be accomplished, and the Great Jehovah shall say the work is done.
--Joseph Smith, History of the Church, 4:540.

The story of the restored Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is truly a marvelous work and a wonder (see 2 Nephi 27:26). The doctrines of the gospel of Jesus Christ are are beautiful beyond description. The blessings available to individuals and families in the latter-day temples are of unspeakable worth. When the truth of this latter-day work sinks into the soul of a person, that person is changed forever: priorities which may have been haphazard come into sharp focus; the great picture of eternity begins to reveal itself; the veil begins to thin; and man's great questions--Who am I, Where did I come from, Why am I here, and Where am I going--begin to be answered, giving rise to even grander questions and ponderings never before imagined; for without the gospel framework such a person never could have conceived of such glorious precepts and principles and implications.

And into the heart of such a person comes an unmistakable conviction: all must know!

My children, I feel this conviction. I feel it deep in my soul. Every line and precept added to my understanding only increases my anxiety to share what I know with my own family and with the world, my extended family.

For that is what the world is: one great family. Every person on earth--no matter how young or old, no matter how rich or poor, no matter how near or far, no matter how common or strange, no matter even how good or evil--is a beloved child of God. Each is created in His divine image. Each has divine potential. And each has already accepted the plan of the Lord Jesus Christ in a former life, now hidden by the veil of forgetfulness that enshrouds us here, accelerating our learning and growth. Each only needs to be reminded of the truth they once knew, and that familiar, comfortable Spirit of understanding will slowly, gently coax their minds and hearts open until they allow Him to fully illuminate their souls.

This knowledge is encouraging when we face the daunting task of trying to communicate the precious things of the Spirit to a world that is consumed with the flesh. We mortals are all on the same side. We were all meant for the same glorious end. All must know. It is only fair that all be given the choice to accept or reject the truth. And so we go forth.

The missionary work of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is every bit the marvel that ancient and modern prophets foretold. I was part of it--one of fifty thousand full-time missionaries in my day. You children will each be part of it too, whether serving a full-time mission as the boys and perhaps some of the girls will, or whether simply letting your light shine to the world as you strive to be an example of the believers (Matthew 5:16, 2 Timothy 4:12).

If you take upon yourself the lifelong mantle of a missionary, the world will be so much the better for you having been here. You will never regret your efforts to share the truth of the gospel.

But a just God could not rest knowing that even with all of His disciples striving to share the gospel message, a majority of this complex, crazy world will still never hear the full message in mortality. Certainly it is a privilege and blessing to hear the truth now, when sacred ordinances such as baptism and family sealings can be received, and covenants can be made and kept. But what of the vast throngs--the billions--who lived and died in ignorance of these exalting truths?

Thus the Lord has given priesthood keys to the latter-day prophet to oversee the great work of salvation for the dead--a work enormous in scope and imperative in importance, yet lost from the knowledge of the world for centuries between the time of Christ and the restoration of all things in this final dispensation.

The Bible has traces of this doctrine; precious evidences preserved over the centuries include Paul's use of baptism for the dead as an argument for the reality of the resurrection (see 1 Corinthians 15:29), and Peter's teachings of the missionary work in the Spirit world (1 Peter 3:18-20). But the broader meaning of these passages was obscured until the full picture was again restored through new revelation to the prophet Joseph Smith and his successors (see, for example, D&C 128 and D&C 138).

The latter-day temples of the Lord are for receiving ordinances and making covenants--but not only for the living. So important are the requirements to be baptized and confirmed (John 3:5), to be endowed and sealed as couples and families (D&C 132:15-21), that God has provided for the living to act as proxy for the dead in receiving these ordinances in the temples. Thus, we can stand in the place of our ancestors--our brothers and sisters--who never had the opportunity to receive the fullness of the gospel in mortality, and provide a way to escape from the limitations placed upon their agency by never having entered into these ordinances and covenants.

Of course, the choice remains theirs, whether to accept or reject the work we have done for them. Our role is to search them out, to discover family relationships, and to perform the ordinances. This unlocks the door for them, allowing them to use their agency to receive the blessings of exaltation should they choose. Thus we find further fulfillment of the prophecies that the hearts of the fathers and the children would turn to each other (Malachi 4:6) and that saviours would stand upon mount Zion (Obadiah 1:21).

Isn't that the divine likeness we take upon ourselves--that of the Savior--when we vicariously stand in the place of another to do that which he cannot do for himself: to receive ordinances that satisfy the requirements of the law? Isn't it wonderful to emulate the great vicarious work that the Savior of mankind accomplished when He stood in our place to receive our punishments and satisfy the ends of the broken law? Can you begin to see why temple work is a holy, sanctifying work? Can you see why it purges our selfishness and sinful nature from our souls?

When we do vicarious ordinance work in the temples, we act in harmony with the spirits of faithful, deceased elders in the Church who are now, even as you read this, preaching these same truths to those who have passed on and are now in spirit prison. This prison is not constructed of cement or steel or stone, but of ignorance, rebellion, regret, and missed opportunities--opportunities which you can now provide in the temples of the Lord. You, in a very literal sense, hold one of the keys to the door of this prison for those within your power to discover and liberate through temple work.

Thus, God has provided a way that all may partake of the ordinances of the temple; that all may be sealed as husband and wife, as parents and children; that all may be bound together eternally in love and life that never ends; that all may have the hope that your mother and I share, and which gives us such great joy now and in the future. All may love as your mother and I love each other.

God is perfectly just. He makes no mistakes. He forgets no one. None of His children will "fall through the cracks" and be denied a fair opportunity to accept or reject these ordinances, no matter when or where they spent their brief sojourn on earth. This work for the dead will continue, as Joseph Smith said, until these glad tidings have "sounded in every ear; till the purposes of God shall be accomplished, and the Great Jehovah shall say the work is done." The gospel plan is all-inclusive.

But what about the covenants? Receiving the ordinances is only a part of the process. It takes wise, consistent use of agency to progress into the people we were meant to be. The covenants must be kept, and that is where each soul's individual responsibility complicates things a bit.

What if we fail? What if our families fail? What if your spouse doesn't keep his or her side of the bargain? What if you find yourself as a single parent? What if, despite your best efforts, you never marry? What if your children let you down? What if your parents let you down?

And what about those who die unmarried, who spend a long life alone? What about those whose mental, emotional, or physical handicaps preclude marriage or family, or make it hard to trust in a loving God? What about those who struggle with same-sex attraction or gender disorientation? What about those who are abused or neglected, who are battered and broken by their fellow humans' poor use of agency, until they become jaded and skeptical of marriage and family and all that is good?

What if, my children, the trials and tribulations and temptations of life hit you so hard and sternly that you are shaken to the very cores of your souls? What if those you rely on and trust seem to be falling around you? What if you feel that you stand alone, that your convictions are threadbare? What if, as the Lord posed to the prophet Joseph, "the very jaws of hell shall gape open the mouth wide after thee?"

Here is the Lord's answer: "Know thou, my son, that all these things shall give thee experience, and shall be for thy good. The Son of Man hath descended below them all. Art thou greater than he? Therefore, hold on thy way, and the priesthood shall remain with thee; for their bounds are set, they cannot pass. Thy days are known, and thy years shall not be numbered less; therefore, fear not what man can do, for God shall be with you forever and ever." (D&C 122:7-9)

Experience. For thy good. God shall be with you. Hold on thy way. Never turn your back on the Lord, no matter what. He has thought of every possible problem and has provided a way to escape, because He experienced each and every one of our burdens when He suffered an infinite atonement for us (see Alma 7:11-13). His sacrifice is not only for our sins, but also for the effects of others' sins on us, and all the negative effects of living in a fallen world. He knows our situations. He knows our needs. He has covered it. All of it.

Through His prophets, the Savior has promised us again and again that no blessing will be denied to any worthy individual. The prophet Howard W. Hunter explained:

"The atonement that Christ wrought was in behalf of every individual. However, each must work out his or her own salvation, for we are not saved collectively. The worthiness of one’s friends or family will not save him or her. There must be an individual effort. While it is true that worthy couples will obtain exaltation in the celestial kingdom, each man and each woman sealed in an eternal relationship must be individually worthy of that blessing.

"An eternal marriage will be composed of a worthy man and a worthy woman, both of whom have been individually baptized with water and with the Spirit; who have individually gone to the temple to receive their own endowments; who have individually pledged their fidelity to God and to their partner in the marriage covenant; and who have individually kept their covenants, doing all that God expected of them.

"May I hasten to add that no blessing, including that of eternal marriage and an eternal family, will be denied to any worthy individual. While it may take somewhat longer—perhaps even beyond this mortal life—for some to achieve this blessing, it will not be denied."
(Howard W. Hunter, “The Church Is for All People,” Ensign, Jun 1989, 75)

I cannot write here exactly when or how these blessings will come to the faithful, because I don't know the details. It may be as different a way for each individual as his or her circumstances require. But this I do know: the blessings will come to the faithful. As the prophet Spencer W. Kimball encouraged, "please know that our Father in Heaven is aware of your anguish, and that one day he will bless you beyond your capacity to express." (Ensign, Nov. 1979, p. 103.) There are no circumstantial "what-if's" or "what-about's" that take a precious, beloved child of God beyond the reach of His compassion and power to save. Only we can deny His saving grace by using our own agency; and if we choose to do so, our Father will be ever reaching after us, beckoning us back to Him.

If we prove faithful--faithful in receiving the Lord's ordinances, keeping our covenants, following the Savior with our whole hearts, and utilizing His grace in our lives--then when all is said and done, when the troubles of this life are but a distant memory, when the last specs of dirt and grime have been purged from our souls, we will at last understand what the apostle Paul meant when he wrote "I reckon that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us." (Romans 8:18)

My children, you have the truth. You have a Savior. You are free to choose your path, regardless of what anyone around you may choose. Your agency is fully operative and you can claim our Father in Heaven's highest blessings and secure a glorious eternity. Don't let anything or anyone get in your way.

Your mother and I will do all in our power to prepare you to achieve the fullness of your potential. We love you. You are precious to us. God loves you. Now choose to love yourselves enough to seek the Lord and follow His path, all your lives. Lose yourselves in the Lord's work. Make use of what you have been given to bless others. Proclaim the gospel. Search out and redeem the dead. Serve diligently in the Lord's church. Care for the poor and needy. "Wear out" your lives in the love and service of God and our fellow brothers and sisters (D&C 123:12-13). The world needs you. Be part of the solution. Commit yourselves to the Lord's team--the only team that will be left standing when the Great War is finally over, when the Savior comes again to rule and reign on Earth in glory, which He surely will.

Let's make sure that our whole family returns to our Father who created us--and that means you helping your very imperfect earthly father. And let's bring as many of our brothers and sisters back with us as we can. If we give God our very best efforts, repenting when we fail, then when the great judgment day comes we will each look Him in the face with the confidence of an obedient child. And with covenants fulfilled, we will enjoy eternal life with Him as a family, forever: your mother and I with our parents, grandparents, and so on, and each of you with your spouses and children and so on, in a never-ending chain of love and family that extends without end. And that, my children, is a goal worth living and giving our all for.

And that is why I love your mother.

Part eleven of a twelve-chapter essay. Read more: Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch 7 | Ch 8 | Ch 9 | Ch 10 | Ch 11 | Epilogue

Wife Rule #134: Why I Love Your Mother (to my children) Chapter Ten: The Temple and Eternal Families

2010-03-28T19:42:00.000-07:00

I love to see the temple.
I’ll go inside someday.
I’ll covenant with my Father;
I’ll promise to obey.
For the temple is a holy place
Where we are sealed together.
As a child of God, I’ve learned this truth:
A family is forever.
--Janice Kapp Perry

So, my precious children, after nine whole chapters of patiently enduring my thoughts, it comes back to the subject of this song--"I Love to See the Temple"--where Sister Perry eloquently states in two short stanzas the entire crux of my passion.

You have sung this song since you were very young. You were blessed to grow up in the shadow of one of the Lord Jesus Christ's magnificent latter-day temples. When we would drive past the temple as a family, sometimes we would sing these words together. We did it for a reason: there is a message in it that your mother and I hoped would sink deep into your hearts.

Holy places have always been part of true Christian worship. From the creation of the Garden of Eden, where God walked and talked with Father Adam and Mother Eve; to the tabernacle in the wilderness, where Moses conversed face to face with the Savior; to the splendor of King Solomon's temple, built to the Lord in the Israelite's promised land; to the restoration of this temple over the passing centuries as required from time to time; to the claiming of the temple at Jerusalem as "my house" by the Savior when He visited it in mortality; till at last, in these latter days, the Lord again commanded His people to build a house to His name:

"Organize yourselves; prepare every needful thing, and establish a house, even a house of prayer, a house of fasting, a house of faith, a house of learning, a house of glory, a house of order, a house of God." (D&C 109:8, see also v 2-9)

The reasons for the temple listed here were but prelude to revealing the further purposes of the temple. In addition to the tremendous blessings promised above, priesthood keys were bestowed upon the prophet Joseph Smith by heavenly messengers in the first temple at Kirtland, Ohio, after its completion. While praying in the temple the following vision was given to the prophet and one of his companions:

1 The veil was taken from our minds, and the eyes of our understanding were opened.
2 We saw the Lord standing upon the breastwork of the pulpit, before us; and under his feet was a paved work of pure gold, in color like amber.
3 His eyes were as a flame of fire; the hair of his head was white like the pure snow; his countenance shone above the brightness of the sun; and his voice was as the sound of the rushing of great waters, even the voice of Jehovah, saying:
4 I am the first and the last; I am he who liveth, I am he who was slain; I am your advocate with the Father....
6 Let the hearts of your brethren rejoice, and let the hearts of all my people rejoice, who have, with their might, built this house to my name.
7 For behold, I have accepted this house....
11 After this vision closed, the heavens were again opened unto us; and Moses appeared before us, and committed unto us the keys of the gathering of Israel from the four parts of the earth, and the leading of the ten tribes from the land of the north.
12 After this, Elias appeared, and committed the dispensation of the gospel of Abraham, saying that in us and our seed all generations after us should be blessed.
13 After this vision had closed, another great and glorious vision burst upon us; for Elijah the prophet, who was taken to heaven without tasting death, stood before us, and said:
14 Behold, the time has fully come, which was spoken of by the mouth of Malachi—testifying that he [Elijah] should be sent, before the great and dreadful day of the Lord come—
15 To turn the hearts of the fathers to the children, and the children to the fathers, lest the whole earth be smitten with a curse—
16 Therefore, the keys of this dispensation are committed into your hands; and by this ye may know that the great and dreadful day of the Lord is near, even at the doors.
(D&C 110:1-4,6-7,11-16)

It was the bestowal of these priesthood keys--the keys to gather the Lord's people, to take the blessings of the gospel to all people, and to turn the hearts of the fathers and children who constitute the whole family of Adam to each other--that set in motion the highest and holiest purposes for building latter-day temples.

These keys are closely linked with the power that the Savior bestowed upon Peter: "And I will give unto thee the keys of the kingdom of heaven: and whatsoever thou shalt bind on earth shall be bound in heaven: and whatsoever thou shalt loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven" (Matthew 16:19).

It is the key to this power--the power to bind or loose on earth and in heaven, or the sealing power--that was among the highest of gifts bestowed upon Joseph Smith as the prophet of this final dispensation. I think it is safe to say that this sealing power is the reason why all other keys and authority were ultimately given. The binding together of the human family is the grand purpose for the earth and our living in it; without this binding power and the turning of our hearts to the blessings that flow from it, the "whole earth would be utterly wasted" (D&C 2:3).

But why? Why is it so important for families--especially for husbands and wives--to be sealed together in eternal bonds?

Isn't it natural for the God and Father of us all to desire that His family, consisting of the entire human race, should be organized according to His pattern? Isn't it marvelous that among all the precious gifts God has given us for our progression--a beautiful world to live in; marvelous bodies to grow with; the freedom to use our agency and advance; a Savior to provide escape from our sins and from death; and a Church with prophet leaders to teach us law and administer God's ordinances and covenants to us with authority--that God also desires that our progression reach literally to the heights and depths of His celestial pattern of life? Our Eternal Father and Mother desire those blessings for their children which can only be shared as a couple--as husband and wife--and which bring the highest of joys and glories possible. Doesn't Almighty God, among all the titles He could be called, choose to be addressed by His children as our "Eternal Father?" Can you see that the summation of His grand work and glory is to bring us to the same condition in which He dwells, to make eternal fathers and mothers of us all, to share with His children the blessings and glories of eternal life?

The continuation of marriage and family ties throughout eternity is the very purpose of our creation. The blessings and challenges of an endless posterity is the work that gives meaning to existence. The concept of family is truly at the center of everything God is and does.

These highest of blessings are so sacred that the sealing ordinances that initiate the process are only bestowed upon God's children who are ready and willing to accept the accompanying responsibilities that go with them, and are only given in the most sacred of all places. The Lord has designated His holy temples as these sacred places in the latter days, just as in former times, and thus it is that the temple is at the center of the purposes of the latter-day church of Jesus Christ. In the temples we receive our ordinances with sacred covenants to live worthy of the blessings we are promised. To become like our Heavenly Parents, we must learn to live and love like Them--something that can only be accomplished through our own experience, by using our agency--and our covenants help us along the way. We are reminded of these sacred responsibilities and blessings each time we return to the temple, and are fortified in our resolve. We use our agency to both keep our covenants and allow the Savior's grace into our lives, and in partnership with Him we slowly but surely cast off our weakness and reach towards perfection and eternal life together, as a family.

It is only through receiving God's sealing ordinance--and keeping the covenants associated with it--that families can be organized according to God's eternal laws and enjoy everlasting ties, reap eternal love, and fulfill the highest purposes of human potential.

Can you see why your mother and I look back to the day we were sealed in the temple as the greatest day of our lives? Can you see why we hope you will look forward to the day you receive these blessings and covenants for yourselves? Our sealing in the temple has everything to do with why your mother and I love each other like we do. We are married for eternity. There is no end to our commitment to each other, to you children, to our God. Can you see how having a goal of eternal union will strengthen every marriage in mortality? Can you see how the little wrinkles in a marriage fade into insignificance when viewed against the glorious possibilities ahead? Can you see how absolute chastity in preparation for marriage, and absolute fidelity after marriage, are no-brainers? Can you see how being eternally bound as husband and wife, as parent and child, swallows up the sting of death when family members are temporarily separated? Can you see how an eternal perspective on family dictates clear priorities in this life; how the most important work your mother and I will ever do is here in our home, with each other, and with each of you? Can you understand why above all other roles in life, the ones we cherish most are husband and wife, father and mother? Can you see what marvelous, motivating goals your mother and I share? Can you see how viewing a beloved spouse in the light of his or her eternal potential, and his or her eternal impact on your potential, will widen your heart to eternity and increase your love, unbounded?

I love the words of Parley P. Pratt, an early apostle in the church and friend of Joseph Smith, who explained the impact of this beautiful doctrine on his marriage:

“It was at this time that I received from him the first idea of eternal family organization, and the eternal union of the sexes in those inexpressibly endearing relationships which none but the highly intellectual, the refined and pure in heart, know how to prize, and which are at the very foundation of everything worthy to be called happiness....

“It was from him that I learned that the wife of my bosom might be secured to me for time and all eternity; and that the refined sympathies and affections which endeared us to each other emanated from the fountain of divine eternal love. It was from him that I learned that we might cultivate these affections, and grow and increase in the same to all eternity; while the result of our endless union would be an offspring as numerous as the stars of heaven, or the sands of the sea shore....

“I had loved before, but I knew not why. But now I loved—with a pureness—an intensity of elevated, exalted feeling.... I felt that God was my heavenly Father indeed; that Jesus was my brother, and that the wife of my bosom was an immortal, eternal companion; a kind ministering angel, given to me as a comfort, and a crown of glory for ever and ever.”
(Autobiography of Parley P. Pratt, ed. Parley P. Pratt Jr. (1938), 259–60.)

Yes, my children, I love your mother. The love we share emanates from God and beautifies our lives together as we consistently choose to obey His laws related to love. Thus, love is ultimately a choice that we have each made through use of our individual, God-given agency, motivated by our understanding of divine law and our shared, eternal goals—goals that are outlined in the divine ordinances of the Holy Temple, and which are achieved through keeping temple covenants. Sadly, many in the world never come to understand this vital relationship between God, agency, and love—they believe that love is merely something you “fall into” and perhaps later “fall out of.” They think of it as some kind of cosmic Fate that operates on the souls of men and women, independent of choices they make. Thus, when the familiarity of routine sets in, or when the opposition inherent in this fallen world inevitably comes, without conscious a choice to love, relationships will wither and die. But that is not the way it will be with your mother and me.

In my love for your mother is wrapped up all my hopes, dreams, and aspirations for this life and eternity. Our marriage and our family, including each of you, have already brought me joy beyond anything I could have anticipated. In the common, every-day happenings in our home I have glimpsed the glories of eternity. I am so grateful we are sealed together, as father, mother, sons, and daughters. I intend to spend the rest of my life keeping the covenants I made the day I married your mother. I want each of you close to me forever, as we continue on with each new phase of our unending existence. I want to witness your growth and triumphs. I want to honor my parents by becoming all I can be. And I want to become the king your mother deserves as her companion, just as she strives to be a queen for me.

I love the Savior Jesus Christ. It is through Him--and only through Him--that even a glimmer of hope for these glorious blessings is possible. Never forget that. Never forget that you owe everything to Him. Serious discipleship is the only option that makes any sense. Obey Him. Worship Him. It is His right. He is the only way.

I love God our Eternal Father. It is because of His selflessness, His generosity, His desire to perpetuate the glory and joy that He enjoys, that we exist. He loves us unconditionally and infinitely. He wants the best for us. He gave His only begotten Son in the flesh for our salvation. He will always be there for us--always.

These things are true. I know them through the witness of the Holy Ghost. The truth of it burns in my heart even as I write this for you, my precious children. God lives and has a plan of salvation for the human family, and you know where to find it and what it is. You know the truth that will set you free.

But what about the others?

Part ten of a twelve-chapter essay. Read more: Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch 7 | Ch 8 | Ch 9 | Ch 10 | Ch 11 | Epilogue

Wife Rule #133: Why I Love Your Mother (to my children) Chapter Nine: The Latter-day Restoration

2010-03-21T20:13:00.000-07:00

Awake and arise, O ye slumbering nations!
The heavens have opened their portals again.
The last and the greatest of all dispensations
Has burst like a dawn o’er the children of men!

The dream of the poet, the crown of the ages,
The time which the prophets of Israel foretold,
That glorious day only dreamed by the sages
Is yours, O ye slumbering nations; behold!

Oh, lift up your voices in song and in story.
Let banners of peace in all lands be unfurled,
For truth, heaven-born, in its beauty and glory
Is marching triumphantly over the world.
--Theodore E. Curtis, Hymns of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, no. 8

The fulfilment of all the promises the Lord has made to His prophets through all the dispensations of this world was to be commenced in the latter days, with the restoration of His true and living church (see D&C 1:30) through a latter-day prophet. Thus, the Lord continues his pattern, established with Father Adam, of bestowing divine truth and keys of priesthood authority upon a chosen servant, who will then be able to spread the blessings of the Gospel to all who will listen and obey, setting in motion anew God's great plan of salvation in its fullness. With the backdrop of centuries of apostasy and spiritual darkness, this promised day of restoration has been anticipated with joyful reverence, being called "a marvelous work and a wonder" (Isaiah 29:14 and 2 Nephi 25:17).

The miraculous accomplishment of the Lord's work in this latter-day dispensation, wherein He is literally and spiritually gathering lost Israel home again to their promised lands in preparation for the return to earth of the Savior Jesus Christ, is so great that the prophet Jeremiah foretold that it would change forever the way we view the Lord. No longer will He be called the Lord that brought the children of Israel out of Egypt, but rather the Lord who gathered Israel home from their literally and spiritually scattered condition (Jeremiah 16:14-16).

The world was many hundreds of years in preparation for this glorious day, however. After the death of the apostles, corrupt political leaders seized control of what was left of the early Christian church and changed doctrines and ordinances for a variety of reasons, including political expediency and power expansion. Multiple schisms occurred as power-hungry church leaders fought for control, further obfuscating the truth on many doctrinal points.

Centuries later, enlightened reformers such as Martin Luther began to recognize that these churches, which claimed to be the true Christian church, no longer resembled the church that Christ had organized. Luther and other brave reformers risked--and often gave--their very lives for their conviction that the church had gone astray and needed to return to Biblical Christianity.

The advent of the printing press and translations of the Bible into modern languages, such as Martin Luther's German edition and John Wycliffe's and William Tindale's English editions, provided widespread availability of God's word for the first time in centuries. This explosion of available truth further exposed just how far the Christian church had drifted from the truths and practices that Christ taught--and some of these valiant men, such as Tindale, paid for this exposure with their lives.

But the truth, once unleashed, proved to be a hydra that could not be contained. From the legacy of these brave reformers sprung centuries of efforts to remodel Christianity back to what it once was. The only problem was that there were nearly as many different ideas about exactly how to fix the Christian church as there were people interested in fixing it. These differences in opinion were further exacerbated as political and religious freedom began their glorious march across the globe, including the establishment of a whole nation founded on the fundamental belief that each person should not be forced to conform to any established religion, but be entitled to worship--or not--as he chooses.

In this new land, the United States of America, the establishment of new Christian sects proceeded rapidly, until there were literally hundreds of different churches. Each had its own unique doctrines and practices, and each had a sincere desire to follow the Savior, but none had divine authority or prophetic revelation. The very existence of these countless churches, when the apostles clearly taught "One Lord, one faith, one baptism" (Ephesians 4:5) was ample testimony of the great apostasy away from Christ's original church. Never had the world been farther from the "unity of the faith" (Ephesians 4:13). Never had there been more evidence that the great "falling away" from the truth had occurred (2 Thessalonians 2:3). Never had there been more need for apostles and prophets (Ephesians 4:11) than there was in the early nineteenth century.

It was at this time that a young, unlearned farm boy from a poor family began an earnest quest to find the truth. Joseph Smith's parents had suffered years of economic failures that forced them to move from place to place until they ended up in Manchester, New York. By 1820, Joseph's interest in finding and joining with Christ's true church was excited by the general uproar on the subject of religion in the area. Joseph correctly reasoned that two preachers holding opposing viewpoints about religious doctrines could not both be entirely right. He wondered how a young, ignorant boy such as himself was to find out the truth about which church to join.

Probably at the suggestion of a preacher from one of the many churches Joseph frequented, he turned to the words of the prophets--the scriptures. In his own words:

11 While I was laboring under the extreme difficulties caused by the contests of these parties of religionists, I was one day reading the Epistle of James, first chapter and fifth verse, which reads: If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God, that giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth not; and it shall be given him.
12 Never did any passage of scripture come with more power to the heart of man than this did at this time to mine. It seemed to enter with great force into every feeling of my heart. I reflected on it again and again, knowing that if any person needed wisdom from God, I did; for how to act I did not know, and unless I could get more wisdom than I then had, I would never know; for the teachers of religion of the different sects understood the same passages of scripture so differently as to destroy all confidence in settling the question by an appeal to the Bible.
13 At length I came to the conclusion that I must either remain in darkness and confusion, or else I must do as James directs, that is, ask of God. I at length came to the determination to “ask of God,” concluding that if he gave wisdom to them that lacked wisdom, and would give liberally, and not upbraid, I might venture.
(Joseph Smith History (JS-H) 1:11-13)

So it was that on a beautiful spring morning in 1820, fourteen-year-old Joseph Smith retired to a secluded grove of trees near his family's home, and knelt down to ask God which church he should join. His youthful faith was pure and he fully intended to obey whatever instruction he received.

Satan, who has opposed the agency-giving light and truth that prophets have dispensed from the beginning, and sensing that Joseph was destined to become a serious "disturber and an annoyer of his kingdom" (JS-H 1:20), threw all of his terrible forces at the young boy, causing great fear to come upon him and binding his tongue so that he could not speak.

16 But, exerting all my powers to call upon God to deliver me out of the power of this enemy which had seized upon me, and at the very moment when I was ready to sink into despair and abandon myself to destruction—not to an imaginary ruin, but to the power of some actual being from the unseen world, who had such marvelous power as I had never before felt in any being—just at this moment of great alarm, I saw a pillar of light exactly over my head, above the brightness of the sun, which descended gradually until it fell upon me.
17 It no sooner appeared than I found myself delivered from the enemy which held me bound. When the light rested upon me I saw two Personages, whose brightness and glory defy all description, standing above me in the air. One of them spake unto me, calling me by name and said, pointing to the other—This is My Beloved Son. Hear Him!
18 My object in going to inquire of the Lord was to know which of all the sects was right, that I might know which to join. No sooner, therefore, did I get possession of myself, so as to be able to speak, than I asked the Personages who stood above me in the light, which of all the sects was right (for at this time it had never entered into my heart that all were wrong)—and which I should join.
19 I was answered that I must join none of them, for they were all wrong; and the Personage who addressed me said that all their creeds were an abomination in his sight; that those professors were all corrupt; that: “they draw near to me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me, they teach for doctrines the commandments of men, having a form of godliness, but they deny the power thereof.”
20 He again forbade me to join with any of them; and many other things did he say unto me, which I cannot write at this time....
(JS-H 1:16-20)

Thus it was that a young, obscure boy was called upon from heaven and given commandments by direct revelation from God the Father and the Lord Jesus Christ, in a personal appearance unmatched during centuries of spiritual darkness and confusion. Thus it was that the heavens were opened again and a prophet of God was called in the last days of the earth, commencing the great preparation of the world for the second coming of the Savior.

There was no deception in the sacred grove, as some unbelievers have contended--Joseph felt and discerned clearly the polar opposites of Satan's hatred and God's love, as one attempted to destroy him and the Other delivered him. There was no mistaking the divine calling of a new prophet for a new dispensation. Joseph Smith, like Enoch, Samuel, David, and others before him, was prepared from the foundation of the world to be a prophet to the nations in the latter days, even if called in his youth.

My dear children, I cannot overemphasize the importance of the reality of Joseph Smith's first vision. The light it sheds on the world is of everlasting value. Its implications are of eternal worth. And it really happened--to this I testify!

The world has, in the Bible, a priceless collection of inspired gems of truth about the reality of the Savior and His doctrine. These gems of truth, to fully enable our agency and facilitate our salvation, must be organized and fit together into a single, coherent system, or Church. But this organization must be according to God's divine designs, not man's. The highly fractured state of Christianity today, nearly two thousand years after the last epistles of the New Testament were written, is plain evidence that the Bible alone is insufficient to unite the people of the world under a single banner of faith. The Bible, while full of precious truth, has been interpreted differently by each sect. It is clear that new revelation through a living prophet--one who could proclaim the truth with authority from God--is the only way to resolve the questions and disputes that have so long fractured the Christian world, and restore that portion of the truth which was changed, or lost, or never included in the set of writings that constitutes our present-day Bible.

Neither can the Bible alone bestow divine priesthood authority on anyone. This takes a direct calling from God, as Paul observed: "no man taketh this honour unto himself, but he that is called of God, as was Aaron" (Hebrews 5:4, see 1-4). And how was Aaron called? By direct revelation from God through the prophet Moses (Exodus 28:1). How was the prophet Moses called? Directly by the voice of God Himself. It has been this way from the beginning, and the pattern has not changed!

But how can we know that Joseph Smith really was a prophet of God? How can we know--among the bewildering array of Christian churches out there, currently totalling over 38,000 different sects--which church is divinely sanctioned, or whether any are at all?

The answer has always been the same: through the power of the Holy Ghost. God's method of communicating with us is the same way he has generally communicated with His prophets (see D&C 8:2-3)--we are just as entitled to inspiration as they are. Surely a loving Father who knows that the progression of His children depends on how well they can identify and follow divine truth, or law, would ensure there was a reliable way to sort out truth from error.

To assist in this quest of eternal importance, God has given us a powerful tool--the Book of Mormon. Three years after Joseph Smith was first called of God in the grove, an angel named Moroni began a series of heavenly visitations (see JS-H 1:27-54). Just as Adam, Abraham, Jacob, David, Elijah, John the Baptist, Paul, John the Revelator, and others were assisted and taught by angels in their ministries, so was young Joseph. These visits culminated in the angel bestowing an ancient record to Joseph that he, Moroni, had finished writing and sealed up centuries before, as a prophet-historian in the land where Joseph now lived.

Over a miraculously short period of time, Joseph Smith translated this ancient record through the gifts of prophecy and revelation. The Book of Mormon tells brief histories--as written through prophets' eyes--of several nations of people brought by the Lord to the Western hemisphere over a period of about a thousand years. It shows God's dealings with these people, and how their use of agency for good or evil brought about their salvation or damnation. It expounds upon the blessings and covenants of the Lord relative to the inhabitants of this land as well as the whole house of Israel. Most importantly, it contains the testimonies of numerous prophets of God that "Jesus is the Christ, the Eternal God, manifesting himself unto all nations" (Title Page)--including an account of the personal ministry of Jesus Christ to the people of this continent after His resurrection. It was compiled by prophets with a view of our day--the latter day--and written with us as the intended audience. It is of inestimable worth.

The Book of Mormon--that remarkable book--has influenced my life for good more than any other book. As I have told you before, my precious children, it is from reading the Book of Mormon that I first felt the unmistakable witness that Jesus Christ lives and that He is the Son of God and the Savior of mankind. It is from reading that book that I first came to know that God loves me and that He has a divine will and plan for my life. It is from reading that book that I first gained my witness that Joseph Smith was a true prophet of God. It is from reading that book that my love of the Bible, and of all truth, has blossomed and grown. It is from reading that book that springs my entire testimony of the restored Church of Jesus Christ in these latter days. Indeed, that book is the "keystone of [my] religion" (see Joseph Smith's quote in the Introduction). It is a gift, directly from heaven, that came to us as a single, seamless revelation of the precise truths we would need in the latter days to combat Satan and fortify our faith in Christ. It is a miracle you can hold in your hands. It teaches the gospel of Jesus Christ in beautiful purity and simplicity. I testify that the Book of Mormon is true! I know it is, and you can too! Read it with faith, ponder it with gratitude, and pray about it with sincere intent to act upon the revelation you receive, as Moroni directs (see Moroni 10:3-5), and I promise you that you will know through the covincing witness of the Holy Ghost, as I do.

Prior to organizing Christ's latter-day church, Joseph Smith had received divine priesthood keys from angelic visitations of John the Baptist and Peter, James, and John, who held the keys in the ancient Christian church. Being now endowed with authority to do so, just months after the English edition of the Book of Mormon was published came the official organization of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints on April 6, 1830. During the first meeting of the Church, Joseph Smith was sustained as the first prophet, seer, and revelator in this, the "dispensation of the fulness of times" (Ephesians 1:10).

But the translation of the Book of Mormon, and the subsequent organization of the Church, did not mark the end of the revelation of divine truth. Like all other prophets before him, Joseph continued to receive revelations during his service as the Lord's prophet. Over a hundred of these precious gems of truth are compiled into the Doctrine and Covenants, and others are included in the Pearl of Great Price. I know that these two volumes, combined with the Book of Mormon and the Holy Bible, constitute the core of an open and ever-expanding canon of scriptural truth given through the gifts of prophecy and revelation to the Lord's continuing line of prophets. Never has so much of the word of God been so available to so many people as it is today; we are truly blessed!

Nor were the visits of the ancient apostles to Joseph Smith the end of the bestowing of priesthood keys. One of the most sacred of the revelations records the visitation of numerous ancient prophets to Joseph, each of which bestowed upon him authority and keys to conduct the work of the Lord in the latter days (see D&C 110).

But why? Once the authority to organize the Lord's true church, and to baptize and bestow the gift of the Holy Ghost was given, what else was there? Well, in answering these questions lies the very key to the reason why I love your mother so very dearly, and we find ourselves on the threshold of the grand conclusion of my thoughts on the subject.

Part nine of a twelve-chapter essay. Read more: Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch 7 | Ch 8 | Ch 9 | Ch 10 | Ch 11 | Epilogue

Wife Rule #132: Why I Love Your Mother (to my children) -- Chapter Eight: Prophets, Priesthood, and Dispensations

2010-03-14T20:27:00.000-07:00

Now therefore ye are no more strangers and foreigners, but fellowcitizens with the saints, and of the household of God; And are built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Jesus Christ himself being the chief corner stone...
--Ephesians 2:19-20

Since the initial placement of man in this world, our Heavenly Father has provided means to give His children here as much truth as "he seeth fit that they should have" (see Alma 29:8). These truths encompass all religious, secular, scientific, artistic, and other types of knowledge. While learning any of these truths enhances our ability to exercise agency and grow, the most important truth of all is the living reality of Jesus Christ as our Savior and Redeemer, the only One with grace sufficient to enable us to fulfill God's plan of happiness.

As the prophet Nephi said, "we talk of Christ, we rejoice in Christ, we preach of Christ, we prophesy of Christ, and we write according to our prophecies, that our children may know to what source they may look for a remission of their sins" (2 Nephi 25:26). So important is this knowledge that "all the prophets who have prophesied ever since the world began...[have] spoken more or less concerning these things" (Mosiah 13:33). To ensure that these prophetic teachings endure, they have been written down in the scriptures. In the Holy Bible we have a compilation of thousands of years of precious prophecies about Christ and stories of His people, showing the consequences of obeying or rejecting Him.

A vital part of our knowledge of the Savior--and ultimately what allows us to use our agency to either accept or reject Him--is an understanding of His divine laws. These laws have been carefully crafted for our progression and ultimate happiness. Joseph Smith taught that "[God] never will institute an ordinance or give a commandment to His people that is not calculated in its nature to promote that happiness which He has designed, and which will not end in the greatest amount of good and glory to those who become the recipients of his law and ordinances" (History of the Church, 5:135).

Among the most important of God's laws for us to obey, and certainly among those that promote our greatest happiness, are the ordinances that God has appointed for our progression. Baptism is the gateway ordinance, initiating a new life as a follower of Christ. Celestial marriage is the crowning ordinance--the one that binds husband and wife together for eternity and makes it possible for God's children to fulfill His plan of happiness for them.

But just knowing about the ordinances isn't enough; God's children must receive them. In order to provide these ordinances, divine authority, or priesthood, is necessary. Divine ordinances have always been administered under one holding the keys of this priesthood authority.

As we saw with Adam and Eve, knowledge of the Savior, knowledge of divine law, and priesthood authority were all available on the earth in the beginning. Their marriage ordinance was performed and their first commandments were given by God himself. Even after they partook of the forbidden fruit and were cast out of the Garden of Eden and shut out from God's presence, God's authority and revelation of truth continued:

4 And Adam and Eve, his wife, called upon the name of the Lord, and they heard the voice of the Lord from the way toward the Garden of Eden, speaking unto them, and they saw him not; for they were shut out from his presence.
5 And he gave unto them commandments, that they should worship the Lord their God, and should offer the firstlings of their flocks, for an offering unto the Lord. And Adam was obedient unto the commandments of the Lord.
6 And after many days an angel of the Lord appeared unto Adam, saying: Why dost thou offer sacrifices unto the Lord? And Adam said unto him: I know not, save the Lord commanded me.
7 And then the angel spake, saying: This thing is a similitude of the sacrifice of the Only Begotten of the Father, which is full of grace and truth.
8 Wherefore, thou shalt do all that thou doest in the name of the Son, and thou shalt repent and call upon God in the name of the Son forevermore.
9 And in that day the Holy Ghost fell upon Adam, which beareth record of the Father and the Son, saying: I am the Only Begotten of the Father from the beginning, henceforth and forever, that as thou hast fallen thou mayest be redeemed, and all mankind, even as many as will.
(Moses 5:4-9)

This passage illustrates the pattern that God has used throughout the history of the world for dispensing divine truth: He communicates to chosen prophets through angels, through the power of the Holy Ghost, and occasionally, directly in person. God bestows upon His prophets divine priesthood authority, often through angelic ministration. Then the prophets are charged with disseminating truth and administering the sacred ordinances of the priesthood to the rest of us. Through this pattern, God reveals His Son, His laws, and His plan regarding the whole human family, as illustrated in the next verses:

10 And in that day Adam blessed God and was filled, and began to prophesy concerning all the families of the earth, saying: Blessed be the name of God, for because of my transgression my eyes are opened, and in this life I shall have joy, and again in the flesh I shall see God.
11 And Eve, his wife, heard all these things and was glad, saying: Were it not for our transgression we never should have had seed, and never should have known good and evil, and the joy of our redemption, and the eternal life which God giveth unto all the obedient.
12 And Adam and Eve blessed the name of God, and they made all things known unto their sons and their daughters.
(Moses 5:10-12)

Adam, as the first prophet in this world, taught the truths he learned to his posterity and held the keys of priesthood authority, being authorized to stand in the place of God in performing ordinances (see Moses 6:53-66), including celestial marriage. Thus even in a fallen state, every child of God was given the same opportunities for growth and progression that Adam and Eve had--nothing was withheld from those who would listen to and obey God's representative on earth, the prophet.

Unfortunately, the separation from God and the veil of forgetfulness that are such a vital part of our growth here on earth also mean that many of us will reject the prophets and their teachings and authority. The faith required to accept a living, breathing, imperfect prophet--and especially one that we know well, as Adam's children knew him so well--is simply more than some of us want to swallow. And there is also that ever-present opposing voice to the prophet's:

13 And Satan came among them, saying: I am also a son of God; and he commanded them, saying: Believe it not; and they believed it not, and they loved Satan more than God. And men began from that time forth to be carnal, sensual, and devilish.
(Moses 5:13)

So it is that the epic struggle continues, with God's children choosing between the truth--as taught by prophets and confirmed by the Holy Ghost--and the false teachings of the devil. At times when the majority of us listen to the prophets, we enjoy tremendous blessings, including relative peace on the earth, and we progress rapidly towards becoming what God intends us to be. At times when most of us reject the prophets, confusion, contention, and wars erupt, and eternal progression is stymied.

And from time to time, the teachings of the prophets have become so unpopular and rejection of the prophets so widespread that they have been murdered or taken from the earth, and mankind has been left without divine authority or revelation of truth for a time. During these times of rebellion and spiritual drought, mankind has rapidly moved away from God's truths and ordinances. As Isaiah described such times, "The earth also is defiled under the inhabitants thereof; because they have transgressed the laws, changed the ordinance, broken the everlasting covenant" (Isaiah 24:5).

But killing a prophet does not destroy the Lord who sent him, and rejecting the truth does not change God's word. Even during the dark times when the Lord's divine representatives were not on the earth, scriptures they left behind have served as a guiding light to prepare the faithful for their return, when priesthood authority, laws, and ordinances would be restored. And eventually, when the time was right according to the God's wisdom, each period of darkness and apostasy has ended with the sending of new prophets to the earth. Each new revelation of truth and restoration of priesthood authority is called a dispensation, and a special prophet stands at the head of each major dispensation. Among them are Adam, Enoch, Noah, Abraham, Moses, and Jesus Christ himself, the greatest Prophet to ever grace the earth.

Each prophet who begins a new dispensation of truth and authority faces a common challenge: convincing a fallen and corrupt world to listen to his message. Each faces the hurdle of overcoming generations of incorrect teachings and traditions, of refuting those who have set themselves up in illegitimate positions of religious authority during the absence of true divine representatives, and must deal with whatever political circumstances are present.

The Savior spent a good portion of His earthly ministry dealing with the problems posed by the various sects in Palestine. Each of them had claimed to have divine authority, but none of them carried the Savior's stamp of approval. Each of them had developed their own unique teachings, growing increasingly distant from the Lord's truth over time.

When Jesus began His earthly ministry, He called new prophets and apostles to assist Him, such as John the Baptist and Peter, James, and John, and organized His church anew, marking the beginning of another dispensation. Jesus and His authorized disciples taught the truth in purity and used divine priesthood authority to administer ordinances such as baptism and conferring the gift of the Holy Ghost. And even after Jesus was crucified, His church continued through the leadership of his divinely authorized disciples, Christ having conferred the "keys of the kingdom" (see Matthew 16:19), or the priesthood keys for leading the Church and administering ordinances, upon Peter. Paul explained the way that Jesus organized His church in order to provide for the perfecting of His saints, for the spreading of His gospel, and for avoiding doctrinal deception:

11 And he gave some, apostles; and some, prophets; and some, evangelists; and some, pastors and teachers;
12 For the perfecting of the saints, for the work of the ministry, for the edifying of the body of Christ:
13 Till we all come in the unity of the faith, and of the knowledge of the Son of God, unto a perfect man, unto the measure of the stature of the fulness of Christ:
14 That we henceforth be no more children, tossed to and fro, and carried about with every wind of doctrine, by the sleight of men, and cunning craftiness, whereby they lie in wait to deceive;
15 But speaking the truth in love, may grow up into him in all things, which is the head, even Christ.
(Ephesians 4:11-15)

This divine pattern of church organization, built on the foundation of apostles and prophets (see Ephesians 2:20), was to continue until all of God's children were in the "unity of the faith." This of course will not happen until Christ comes to reign on earth again, and the earth is cleansed of the wicked and unbelieving. The need for prophets began with Adam and Eve and continues to this day.

After Jesus accomplished all He was sent here to do, in proclaiming the truth and conquering sin and death, He returned to heaven, leaving His church in the care of His apostolic prophets. But the church dealt with unrelenting persecution from the other Jewish sects of the time and constant political and cultural pressure from Rome. Many of His disciples were killed by those whose positions of authority they threatened. Many members of Christ's church buckled under the pressure, and others strayed from pure teachings into various mixtures of worldly philosophy and true doctrines. Eventually, with the loss of the last of the apostles who were authorized to perpetuate priesthood keys to succeeding generations, the church lost authority and prophetic revelation completely and drifted into apostasy. Thus began one of the longest "spiritual famines" in the world's history, as prophesied by Amos, Isaiah, Paul, and others.

But thankfully, this drift into apostasy was not the final end of God's authority or truth on the earth. It was not the last time mankind would receive the life-giving laws and ordinances of Christ's church, including baptism and eternal marriage. It did not mark the end of God's plan of salvation, the blessings of which include a life of joy and eternal life filled with divine love that is only available because of Christ--including the love which I have for you children and your mother.

Those same prophets who foretold this great apostasy also foretold the coming of a new gospel dispensation in the latter days. This great and final dispensation in the world's history would bring the restoration of the all the truths and priesthood keys and ordinances that have ever been available since the world began, ushering in a new age of hope. On that hope hinges the salvation of a ruined world, and the power that gives meaning to my love for your mother.

Part eight of a twelve-chapter essay. Read more: Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch 7 | Ch 8 | Ch 9 | Ch 10 | Ch 11 | Epilogue

Wife Rule #131: Why I Love Your Mother (to my children) -- Chapter Seven: The Family in Eden

2010-03-07T20:00:00.000-08:00

I have a family here on earth.
They are so good to me.
I want to share my life with them through all eternity.
Families can be together forever
Through Heavenly Father’s plan.
I always want to be with my own family,
And the Lord has shown me how I can.
--Ruth M. Gardner, Hymns of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, no. 300

After God created this beautiful world, Adam and Eve were placed in the Garden of Eden as the final step of preparing this world for human habitation. Their condition there was planned meticulously by our Heavenly Father; they were given all the necessary ingredients for agency to function, and thus for their growth. They were given laws, as we will discuss shortly; they were given the freedom to choose for themselves (see Moses 3:17); and there was in the plan a provision for a Savior for them, as well as a space for repentance, should they use their agency to transgress the law and "fall" from their state of innocence (see 2 Nephi 26:26).

Being so divinely designed to advance together, Adam and Eve serve as the ideal prototype, or pattern, of a celestial marriage. By "celestial marriage" I don't mean that they had a perfect marriage or family here on earth (remember Cain and Abel?). Rather, I mean that together they constituted a family fashioned in the likeness of our own Celestial Parents, and one destined for celestial heights. Like the song above says, their marriage here on earth was built in such a manner as to be eternally lasting--built to endure forever. In my simple mind, this celestial marriage pattern can be boiled down to only two principles, worthy of our emulation: (1) they started out right, (2) they kept the commandments of God, including sticking together.

Adam and Eve started their marriage in the right place, at the right time, and by the right authority. The marriage ceremony was performed by God himself, when they were placed together in the Garden of Eden and commanded to "multiply and replenish the earth" (Genesis 1:28). It was thus by God's word and through His authority that they were joined.

Beginning new lives together in this way has inestimable value. God's authority is the only authority that has power to reach beyond time and space into eternity. A statement that two people are married, as given by one who has authority from an earthly, political body, only extends as far and as long as that political authority is recognized. A marriage by one with power to bind on earth only extends only as long as both husband and wife are here, in the flesh, on earth.

In contrast, God's authority reaches as far into the future as His dominions do, into the distant brightness of an ever-expanding, glorious eternity. God's words and works have no end (see Moses 1:38, and a neither does a marriage ordained through His power, provided that all the necessary conditions are met for that marriage.

Again, in my simpleminded pattern, the necessary conditions that a husband and wife must keep, if they expect to enjoy the benefits of God's law of marriage, are simply to obey God's laws related to marriage. It just so happens that marriage takes the capstone position in the gospel structure, sitting at the pinnacle of the plan and resting on the foundation of all other principles and ordinances underneath it. Thus, God's laws related to marriage encompass all of God's other laws.

But what are these laws? Well, there's over two thousand pages of scripture related to expounding and illustrating them and the consequences of obeying or ignoring them. However, to keep things simple, let's just consider the first commandments in our scriptural record that were given to Adam and Eve while they were still innocent in Eden: (1) Have children (Genesis 1:28), (2) Don't eat the forbidden fruit if you don't want to die (Genesis 2:17), (3) Work, beginning with "dressing and keeping" the garden (Genesis 2:15), and encompassing the command to subdue the earth and exercise dominion over it (Genesis 1:28 again), and (4) Stay together (Genesis 2:24).

It is this fourth commandment, the one about staying together, that is of particular interest. It was becoming lax in this commandment that got Adam and Eve into trouble in the first place (see Genesis 3:1-6). Satan's attempts to deceive Eve may not have been effective if she and Adam had been together during her temptation. However, once Eve had partaken of the fruit and was going to be forced to leave Eden forever, Adam chose to stick by her side and also partook of the fruit.

When confronted by the Lord to explain himself, Adam's confessed, "The woman thou gavest me, and commandest that she should remain with me, she gave me of the fruit of the tree and I did eat" (Moses 4:18). This seems to me to be both an admission of failure to stay with Eve during her temptation, as well as rationale for his decision to also partake of the fruit. If he failed once to stay by her side in the garden, allowing Satan to come between them, then he would not repeat that mistake again. If they could not remain together in the garden, then they would still stick together through whatever the wide, untamed world had in store for them.

What a great example for every married couple today! What an example for your mother and me! If all couples would only follow that one principle, to simply stay together, through good and bad, through the ups and the downs, how much less influence Satan would have in our families. Someday, my children, you will marry. Stick with your spouse. Be like Adam and Eve: don't let anyone, or anything, come between you. "What therefore God hath joined together, let not man put asunder" (Mark 10:9).

President Gordon B. Hinckley, a modern prophet of God, gave this precious counsel: "Choose a companion you can always honor, you can always respect, one who will complement you in your own life, one to whom you can give your entire heart, your entire love, your entire allegiance, your entire loyalty. Determine that there will never be anything that will come between you, that will disrupt your marriage. Make it work. Resolve to make it work. There is far too much of divorce wherein hearts are broken and sometimes lives are destroyed. Be fiercely loyal one to another." (Gordon B. Hinckley, "Life’s Obligations," Ensign, Feb 1999, 2)

The other three of the first four commandments given to Adam and Eve serve to strengthen their commitment to obey the fourth, to "stay together." Consider the commandment to multiply and replenish the earth (Genesis 1:28). Few things will cement your familial bonds like choosing together to have children. Your mother and I know this from firsthand experience. The Psalmist spoke truth when he said, "Lo, children are an heritage of the Lord: and the fruit of the womb is his reward.... Happy is the man that hath his quiver full of them" (Pslams 127:3,5).

Despite occasionally feeling like our quiver is about to burst at the seams, your mother and I are eternally grateful for each of you. Each child given to us is a precious gift of unspeakable value, and you truly do make us rich--rich in laughter, rich in love, and rich in learning. You are helping us, perhaps more than any other influence, to gain the experience that will help us grow in the likeness of our Heavenly Parents. You give us opportunities to face choices and solve problems using our agency that I am quite sure we would never encounter without you (You dumped what in the piano?). Each one of you alone is more than reason enough for your mother and I to stay together. And we always will; we have promised God so.

The commandment to work is one of the most valuable God has given us. In fact, when Adam and Eve were driven from the garden, God informed them that hard work was going to be a part of their lives, "for their sakes:"

17 And unto Adam he said, Because thou hast hearkened unto the voice of thy wife, and hast eaten of the tree, of which I commanded thee, saying, Thou shalt not eat of it: cursed is the ground for thy sake; in sorrow shalt thou eat of it all the days of thy life;
18 Thorns also and thistles shall it bring forth to thee; and thou shalt eat the herb of the field;
19 In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread, till thou return unto the ground; for out of it wast thou taken: for dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return.
(Genesis 3:17-19)

Hard work is a blessing--not necessarily a blessing we would all choose, but one our Father in Heaven would choose for us. A life where hard work is required for survival is a wonderful way to provide opportunities for us to exercise our agency and grow. As we struggle to prioritize occupational work, church and community service, friendship, family, needed rest and recreation, and the hundred other things that require our attention, we learn a lot about who we really are inside. We learn what is really important to us, and whom we really love and serve when things get tight--when we feel we are short on time, short on money, and short on energy. Without hard work, we would never know.

In addition to these benefits, there are few better ways for a husband and wife to draw closer together than to work together. I believe that explains a lot of why young couples who struggle in poverty together while working through school and getting established often look back on those days with fondness. There is something wholesome and unifying and binding about the process of working hard together.

The commandment to avoid the forbidden fruit (Genesis 2:17), while not literally applicable to anyone since Eden, is still a great reminder to avoid what has been forbidden by the Lord. These opposing choices are one of the necessary ingredients for the exercise of agency (see 2 Nephi 2:15-16). While the "forbidden fruit" may vary in time and place, the choice remains ours to make.

For example, your mother and I try very hard to keep "forbidden" or worldly influences out of our lives and out of our home. We strive to make our family life together a sanctuary from all that is unholy and impure, to live in a spiritual castle of sorts where the influence of Satan, though surrounding us in an eternal siege, cannot penetrate. It takes real work and constant vigilance to maintain such fortifications, but we have not been left without guidance about how to do it. Our daily rituals of personal and family prayer, and personal and family scripture reading, along with weekly church attendance and family home evenings, add more strength to our lives than any of us can truly measure. A key to avoiding the bad is to stay busy with the good.

Adam and Eve kept all three of the commandments I described above, as we read in Moses' account:

1 And it came to pass that after I, the Lord God, had driven them out, that Adam began to till the earth, and to have dominion over all the beasts of the field, and to eat his bread by the sweat of his brow, as I the Lord had commanded him. And Eve, also, his wife, did labor with him.
2 And Adam knew his wife, and she bare unto him sons and daughters, and they began to multiply and to replenish the earth....
4 And Adam and Eve, his wife, called upon the name of the Lord, and they heard the voice of the Lord from the way toward the Garden of Eden, speaking unto them, and they saw him not; for they were shut out from his presence.
5 And he gave unto them commandments, that they should worship the Lord their God, and should offer the firstlings of their flocks, for an offering unto the Lord. And Adam was obedient unto the commandments of the Lord.
(Moses 5:1-2,4-5)

It is in keeping these first commandments, as well as all the other commandments, that husband and wife grow together in unity to the point of never separating again, that they learn to become godly and thereby prepare to live the life--the eternal life--that God means for us to live. Adam and Eve, our first prototype of celestial family living, illustrated how exercising their agency to follow this pattern helped them through the Cains and Abels of their lives, eventually completing nearly a millennium of mortality together on earth before being called back home.

They started out right, married by God's authority. They lived right, abiding by God's commandments. God was with them in the beginning, and they stayed with Him to the end. But how do the rest of us, born into a much bigger, more complex world and time, learn of God? How can we tap into God's authority so that we too can begin our marriages by His word and power? How can we know which, among all the competing paths in our lives, is the one true path, marked by God's commandments? How can we achieve the success that Father Adam and Mother Eve did?

There is an answer to these questions, and in fact, it has remained the same since the days of Eden until today: the pattern of prophets.

Part seven of a twelve-chapter essay. Read more: Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch 7 | Ch 8 | Ch 9 | Ch 10 | Ch 11 | Epilogue

Wife Rule #130: Why I Love Your Mother (to my children) -- Chapter Six: The Great War

2010-02-28T19:48:00.000-08:00

And there was war in heaven: Michael and his angels fought against the dragon; and the dragon fought and his angels, And prevailed not; neither was their place found any more in heaven.
--Revelation 12:7-8

John the Revelator continues: "And the great dragon was cast out, that old serpent, called the Devil, and Satan, which deceiveth the whole world: he was cast out into the earth, and his angels were cast out with him" (Revelation 12:9). The first front of the Great War was in heaven. It began before men were placed on the earth, since we know that Satan was there in the Garden of Eden, where Adam and Eve first encountered him. The prophet Moses sheds a little more light on the subject of this war:

1 And I, the Lord God, spake unto Moses, saying: That Satan...is the same which was from the beginning, and he came before me, saying—Behold, here am I, send me, I will be thy son, and I will redeem all mankind, that one soul shall not be lost, and surely I will do it; wherefore give me thine honor.
2 But, behold, my Beloved Son, which was my Beloved and Chosen from the beginning, said unto me—Father, thy will be done, and the glory be thine forever.
3 Wherefore, because that Satan rebelled against me, and sought to destroy the agency of man, which I, the Lord God, had given him, and also, that I should give unto him mine own power; by the power of mine Only Begotten, I caused that he should be cast down;
4 And he became Satan, yea, even the devil, the father of all lies, to deceive and to blind men, and to lead them captive at his will, even as many as would not hearken unto my voice.
(Moses 4:1-4)

The goal of the Great War was power--God's power. Somewhere along the line, Satan became discontented with having God rule over him and sought to dethrone God (see Isaiah 12:12-14). He wanted to become a ruler, a father, a leader of his own dominion. And he wanted to do it his own way.

The issue the war hinged on was agency. Yes, it always comes back to agency. Satan thought he could win by destroying the agency of man; he perpetuated the lie that he could save all mankind without agency. His lies must have carried great appeal to many of our Father in Heaven's children, because a full third of God's children (Revelation 12:4) were casualties of the first great battle in the war over agency, which took place in heaven before Adam and Eve were sent to the garden.

Having rejected the God who created them in an all-out rebellion, a third of God's children could no longer find joy in His holy presence. So our Savior, under the Father's direction, cast them out into the earth, which is where the second front of the Great War continues to this day. The two thirds of our brothers and sisters who chose to follow Michael the archangel and the Lord Jesus Christ remained in heaven, with the plan to come to earth firmly in place.

As for Satan and his followers, they are reaping the consequences of their rebellion; they are completely damned in their progress. They were denied the opportunities for growth afforded by experiencing mortality here on earth. They were cast out of heaven to earth as spirits only, to remain in that state forever (see 2 Nephi 9:8-9). With the damnation of eternal spirit-hood ever burning in their hearts, they covet our physical bodies. In fact, they covet any physical body so badly that a legion of these devils, after being cast out of a man by our Savior, begged Jesus to allow them to enter the bodies of a herd of swine (see Luke 8:26-33). Driven by envy and hatred, they are relentless in their assault on our marvelous bodies, tempting us to either loathe or worship them, or to abuse them in nearly uncountable ways. They know that our marvelous physical bodies are one of the keys to our eternal progression.

But back to the main issue of the war: how did Satan attempt to destroy our agency? The scriptures don't specify exactly, but he could have done it by knocking out any of the three pillars upon which agency depends: (1) he could try to destroy the law that defines our choices; (2) he could try to destroy our freedom to choose; or (3) he could try to destroy the Savior who gives us the ability to recover from wrong choices. I believe that he probably attempted to attack agency from all three angles during the war in heaven, because his actions and those of his deceived followers certainly try all three ways of destroying agency in the continuation of that war here on earth.

Undoubtedly the most alluring of Satan's lies is that there is no law. Think of what that would mean! Without law, there is no such thing as sin. Without sin, there is no punishment and no eternal consequences to our actions. You can do whatever you want, and be happy. You have a free pass to decide to follow whatever beliefs you find most attractive. There is no absolute truth, no standard of morality.

There are countless--countless--voices singing this siren song in the world today; they come from those around us, from movies, television, music, magazines, books, the Internet, and pretty much anywhere else you turn in the world. My precious children, don't believe them! They are lies, every one of them. Ignoring the laws of God or pretending that they don't exist does not change them, any more than believing that gravity doesn't affect you will somehow allow you to fly. By breaking God's laws through ignorance or unbelief you only reduce your own agency and become more like Satan.

Satan also attempts to reduce our power to choose in any way he can. Corrupt governments that restrict the freedoms of their citizens are certainly part of this, and world history is full to the brim of stories of bloody conquests and people seeking for power at the expense of the freedom of others. Can you see why it is essential that we stand up and let our voices and actions support the cause of freedom? We are restricted in our actions and thus are blocked in our progress as a whole nation to whatever extent we loose our ability to choose.

Also very effective at reducing our freedom to choose are the powers of addiction that come from drugs, alcohol, tobacco, pornography, or any other habit-forming vice. My children, you cannot afford the risk of exposure, not even once. You cannot predict how quickly--or more dangerously, how slowly and subtly--the restricting chains from these products will wrap around you, until one day you wake to find that some other thing outside of yourself has a stranglehold on your life. Do not sign over your precious agency to a bottle, a can, a pack, a picture! Determine now never to become trapped by these dangerous substances, and avoid them completely!

We also lose our freedom by the patterns of poor choices that we fall into. Some of these lead to prison or other consequences that greatly further reduce our agency. As an example, consider what would happen to you if you never learned to control your temper, if you allowed yourself to fly into a rage every time things didn't go your way. You would lose your friends. You would lose your self respect. You may lose your job. You may even lose your family. The prisons are full of those who never learned to control their actions. The further we sink into sin, the more Satan delights in it. He whispers in our ears that we cannot change, that it is hopeless, that we were "born that way," that it is "just the way we are." My children, these are lies! You can change. You can be free. The Savior's mighty atonement for us has guaranteed that there is a way to escape!

Satan tried his best to thwart Jesus' perfect, sinless life, to make Him unable to be our Savior, but Jesus gave him no heed (see Luke 4:1-13). Having failed completely at all these attempts throughout Jesus' glorious life, Satan still tries to destroy our agency by telling us there is no Savior. He uses the power of sophistry and plays on our pride and intellectual arrogance by whispering to us that there is no God, no Savior, and no plan. My children, Satan lies! I testify to you that if I know anything at all in this world, I know that God lives; that Jesus Christ suffered, died, and rose from the dead to save us; and that we can repent and change and be perfected in Him. We are not trapped by our past if we embrace the salvation freely offered to us by Jesus. Our agency, however tarnished by sin it becomes, can be made bright again through faith in Him and repentance. Our agency--that precious gift given to us by our Father in Heaven--will be with us as long as we strive to be with Him.

Satan's whole idea that mankind could be saved without agency is a total sham--a lie of the grossest proportions. Without agency, there could be no happiness, no growth, and no salvation. You can never become what you do not choose to become.

Know this, that ev’ry soul is free
To choose his life and what he’ll be;
For this eternal truth is giv’n:
That God will force no man to heav’n.
--Anonymous, Hymns of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, no. 240

So we are to become what we choose. That's good news. But even better news yet, my beloved children, is that despite the Great War--despite Satan's and his followers' everlasting hatred and deception and attempts to destroy our agency at every turn--victory can be won. It has been done by countless of our brothers and sisters before us. In fact, there is a pattern for victory set for us in the scriptures, as shown to us by our first parents. It is a pattern of sense and beautiful simplicity. And coincidentally enough, this pattern has everything to do with why I love your mother so much.

Part six of a twelve-chapter essay. Read more: Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch 7 | Ch 8 | Ch 9 | Ch 10 | Ch 11 | Epilogue

Wife Rule #129: Why I Love Your Mother (to my children) -- Chapter Five: The Plan of Salvation

2010-02-21T20:00:00.000-08:00

The boy, like to his father grown,
Has but attained unto his own;
To grow to sire from state of son,
Is not ’gainst Nature’s course to run.
A son of God, like God to be,
Would not be robbing Deity.
--Lorenzo Snow, as cited by LeRoi C. Snow, Improvement Era, June 1919, p. 661

Our Heavenly Parents, like any good earthly parents, have one goal in mind for their children: to help us to obtain and enjoy every benefit, blessing, hope, dream, and joy that they themselves enjoy. What parents do not want what is best for their children? What parents do not want their children to grow up and enjoy all that they have? And where, in any course of nature, do you ever see a pattern different than a parent giving birth to an infant being that, if allowed to grow to maturity, will not grow into the exact same type of being as its parents?

The prophet Lorenzo Snow taught this divine, essential truth in a simple couplet: "As man now is, God once was: As God now is, man may be." This short statement, composed of a handful of the simplest words, is filled with earth-shattering implication to the person into whose soul this doctrine has sunk. It describes, as concisely as possible, God's plan for His children and thus, the entire purpose of our existence.

My children, the importance of understanding this one eternal truth cannot be overestimated. Realizing that we are God's children, that He has a design--a plan--for His children, and that His plan is one of "becoming," rather than simply "believing," or even "doing," makes all the difference. Yes, believing and doing are still essential steps, but it is critical to recognize that the end goal is to become like God. "Be ye therefore perfect," the Savior taught, "even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect" (Matthew 5:48). Becoming like God requires knowing Him (remember John 17:3), and knowing in the highest sense only comes through both "believing" and "doing"--either one without the other will not yield the growth needed for progression.

Elder Dallin H. Oaks, a modern apostle of the Lord, explained that knowledge in the head (what we believe, but have not yet put into practice) is not enough:

"The Apostle Paul taught that the Lord's teachings and teachers were given that we may all attain 'the measure of the stature of the fulness of Christ' (Eph. 4:13). This process requires far more than acquiring knowledge. It is not even enough for us to be convinced of the gospel; we must act and think so that we are converted by it. In contrast to the institutions of the world, which teach us to know something, the gospel of Jesus Christ challenges us to become something."

Likewise, he explains that actions without the right beliefs and intents are not enough either:

"Many Bible and modern scriptures speak of a final judgment at which all persons will be rewarded according to their deeds or works or the desires of their hearts. But other scriptures enlarge upon this by referring to our being judged by the condition we have achieved....

"From such teachings we conclude that the Final Judgment is not just an evaluation of a sum total of good and evil acts--what we have done. It is an acknowledgment of the final effect of our acts and thoughts--what we have become. It is not enough for anyone just to go through the motions. The commandments, ordinances, and covenants of the gospel are not a list of deposits required to be made in some heavenly account. The gospel of Jesus Christ is a plan that shows us how to become what our Heavenly Father desires us to become."

("The Challenge to Become," Elder Dallin H. Oaks, October 2000 Conference of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints)

In light of such beautiful teachings, my children, you can suddenly see how the concept of the agency of man takes on a profound meaning and weight. Of course we cannot make progress unless we are able to choose what to believe and what to do, for ourselves. For example, think of all the choices you make in the simple action of riding a bike: you choose when and how hard to push the pedals. You choose when to brake. You choose where to steer the handlebars. You choose how to adjust your balance on the seat.

But you can't learn to ride a bike unless you personally climb onto the seat and put your own two feet on the pedals. Reading a book about it isn't the same. Believing that you could ride, but never doing it, isn't the same. Being towed behind a bike isn't the same. Having someone else hold the handlebars isn't the same. If you were on the bike yourself, but your mind was somehow under the control of someone who knew how to ride the bike and who did it for you, it would not be the same. You had to have the learning experience, including all the choices leading up to success, yourself.

But to succeed, you needed teaching and coaching and guidance and encouragement. You needed to believe you could learn to ride in the first place. You needed to understand and obey the laws of balancing on a bike. You needed to know there was someone there to help you back up if you fell, which of course you all did at one point or another. You needed someone to run with you and help you get the feel of riding before letting go--but you needed to eventually have that helper let go. Part of the blessing of learning to ride a bike is the freedom to ride independently, without someone trailing along beside you to prevent you from falling. You had to eventually learn to stay balanced, all on your own.

God's plan for His children also required eventually "letting go" in a sense. There was tremendous opportunity for progression while living with Him in the heavens, but there was even greater opportunity for growth--growth which could not be obtained in any other way--by sending us away for a short time, into a mortal sphere where we would have the opportunity to grow through faith and learn for ourselves that the seeds of divinity are within us; to learn that we can and would follow God's path even when there was every opportunity to do otherwise, when it seemed that God was very far away and no one was watching.

This next phase of God's plan needed a physical space in which to take place; a stage to be acted out on. So God created this earth for the express purpose of allowing His children to come here--to "leave home" as it were--for an advanced, intense, and everlastingly important education. This will make more sense to you when you eventually leave home to attend college, or serve as missionaries, or get married (and yes, you will eventually leave home!). There are certain things that you will never fully learn--about the world, about living, and about yourselves--until you experience them on your own, farther away from home: things you take for granted now; situations you will never encounter at home; and even a love for your home and family that cannot be fully appreciated until some distance is temporarily inserted. Then, after the separation when you someday return, you will appreciate and understand better what your mother and I have tried to teach you, and you will love us all the more for it.

To further enhance our agency--to allow us to truly expand our faith and increase our sense of independence--God's plan also required placing a "veil" over our minds. This veil would cause us to forget our former spirit life in God's presence and start fresh, with a renewed innocence. It intentionally creates a further separation from God and greatly magnifies the challenge--and thus the possible growth to be gained--of this phase of God's plan for our progression. We are thus able to learn for ourselves whether we want to obey, even when we feel that we are all alone.

But with this veil of forgetfulness over our minds, we are not left alone--faith in divine law is still required to spur us into the action that will yield growth, even during our separation from God here on earth. So God provided the Holy Ghost, a Communicator who works according to our faith and desire and obedience. The Holy Ghost gently tugs at our minds and hearts, teaching and guiding us along the path that leads back home. He is there to warn, comfort, inspire, and confirm eternal truths, when we encounter them. These gentle promptings will give us the faith and conviction that lead to obedience, resulting in true knowledge and progression towards becoming like God.

God's plan for our progression here on earth included two essential aspects. The first is the opportunity for expanded agency and experience due to our temporary separation from Him. And second, being born on earth provides us each with a physical body to house our spirits. This body is created in the image of His physical body, though it is in an imperfect state for now. This body provides us with new sensations. It provides us with significantly expanded agency by affording us wonderful new choices related to the laws governing our bodies. Perhaps most significantly, these mortal bodies allow us, in partnership with God, to be able to create children, giving us a chance for the first time to emulate this most precious and defining characteristic of our Father in Heaven.

When this plan was first presented, the most vital element of it--the key to making it all work--was to provide a Savior for us. In taking these two bold steps forward (leaving home and obtaining a body) we would cross into new realms of existence--we would venture into new territory. For one, the enhanced agency we would experience here would teach us so much about eternal truth (law) and help us understand God's perfection and our own comparative weakness, that we would forever feel unworthy to return to His presence after feeling the filthiness of our own sins and follies. As the prophet Mormon taught: "Behold, I say unto you that ye would be more miserable to dwell with a holy and just God, under a consciousness of your filthiness before him, than ye would to dwell with the damned souls in hell" (Mormon 9:4). This condemnation would apply forever to all of God's children who were ever capable of committing sin.

Secondly, after experiencing the wonders of having a physical body, we would feel like we were in bondage without one (see D&C 138:50). Experiencing a taste of such a wonderful, liberating blessing as a physical body, only to lose it without the prospect of ever regaining it, would torture us.

So the firstborn son of our Heavenly Father, the Lord Jesus Christ, was foreordained to come to this earth as our Savior. Here He would free us from the effects of our sins (broken laws, or misused agency) and from death (the separation of our spirits from our bodies). The cost of this salvation is truly terrible: Jesus Christ "suffereth the pains of all men, yea, the pains of every living creature, both men, women, and children, who belong to the family of Adam" (2 Nephi 9:21). He did this so that the eternal law of justice, which God Himself cannot deny, might be fulfilled through vicarious payment of the ransom demanded by our sins.

This pain was more excruciating than any of us can imagine:

15 Therefore I command you to repent—repent, lest...your sufferings be sore—how sore you know not, how exquisite you know not, yea, how hard to bear you know not.
16 For behold, I, God, have suffered these things for all, that they might not suffer if they would repent;
17 But if they would not repent they must suffer even as I;
18 Which suffering caused myself, even God, the greatest of all, to tremble because of pain, and to bleed at every pore, and to suffer both body and spirit—and would that I might not drink the bitter cup, and shrink—
19 Nevertheless, glory be to the Father, and I partook and finished my preparations unto the children of men.
(D&C 19:16-19)

Jesus Christ completed His vicarious sacrifice for us--he "finished [his] preparations unto the children of men"--because He loves us, and because our Father willed it to be so. My children, "Remember the worth of souls is great in the sight of God" (D&C 18:10). Your immortal soul--and its eternal, splendid potential to become like God--is of such great worth that Jesus Christ suffered all this for you, to remove the obstacle of your sins from blocking (from damning) your progress. It is up to you to take advantage of His atonement--which allows us to be "at one" with God again--by exercising faith in Him, repenting from your sins, and following His example.

The Savior also redeemed us from physical death when He took up His own mortal body on the third day after his crucifixion, breaking forever the bands of death. The effects of His literal resurrection pass to each of God's children as a free gift of grace, saving us from physical death. Each spirit, when first clad in a physical, mortal body, will someday be clothed upon with a perfected, immortal physical body. This joyful news caused Paul the apostle to exclaim to the Corinthians "O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?" (1 Corinthians 15:55)

Thus, God's plan was in place to allow us an explosion of growth, by catapulting our agency forward through testing in a circumstance of temporary separation from God while here on earth, and obtaining a physical body. The Holy Ghost was there to teach us and gently guide us back home in a manner that allows us full use of our agency to choose whether to follow His guidance. A Savior was provided for us to turn these opportunities into blessings instead of curses, and allow us the means of eventually becoming perfect, like He is, through faith in His atonement and our own sustained effort at improvement.

All was prepared. The plan for the use of man's agency, the power of independent action in accordance with divine law--that most precious gift of God (for exercising agency is the only way that we could eventually become like Him)--was in place. What could possibly go wrong?

Well, the devil is in the details.

Part five of a twelve-chapter essay. Read more: Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch 7 | Ch 8 | Ch 9 | Ch 10 | Ch 11 | Epilogue

Wife Rule #128: Why I Love Your Mother (to my children) -- Chapter Four: The Nature of Man

2010-02-14T20:00:00.000-08:00

I am a child of God,
And he has sent me here,
Has given me an earthly home
With parents kind and dear.
Lead me, guide me, walk beside me,
Help me find the way.
Teach me all that I must do
To live with him someday.
--Naomi W. Randall, Hymns of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, no. 301

Through ignorance, men have offered some pretty wild theories about who we are and how we got here on earth. Only slightly less ridiculous than the idea that the earth is being towed through the sky on the back of a giant turtle, there are those who would have you believe that all creation is the result of random, chance events. They would have you believe that men are descendants of ancient slime that happened to spring to life when a pool of muck was struck by lightning.

The truth of the matter is that there is a simple way to understand the nature of man, but it can only be attained by looking through the "eye of faith." And frankly, in my opinion, believing in the truth takes a lot less faith than believing in the alternate theories.

If you could reach way back into your memory, long before your body was created here on earth, you would see yourself very much alive, but as a spirit only. You would see yourself at home, similar to the home you know now, only much grander and better in almost every way. And you would see yourself as part of a family, similar to your family here on earth but much, much larger--God's family.

It may surprise you, my children, since you have been taught the truths of the gospel since your infancy, but most of the world has no idea where we came from. They read the scriptures--if they believe them at all--that talk about "Our Father who art in heaven" in a figurative sense. They don't realize that our Heavenly Father is exactly that--our father.

You understand what a father is. You have an earthly father, a person, a male, who loves you, who cares for you, and who played one of two vital parts in giving you life. Your mother and I were responsible for initiating the process by which your mortal bodies were created. Likewise you have a Father in Heaven, who, with His eternal companion, created your spirits long before you came to earth. You were, in a very literal sense, born as a spirit a long, long time ago, in exactly the same sense in which your body was born here on earth just a few years ago. You have both a father and a mother on earth, and in heaven.

Eliza R. Snow expressed these truths beautifully in this verse:

I had learned to call thee Father,
Thru thy Spirit from on high,
But, until the key of knowledge
Was restored, I knew not why.
In the heav’ns are parents single?
No, the thought makes reason stare!
Truth is reason; truth eternal
Tells me I’ve a mother there.
(Eliza R. Snow, Hymns of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, no. 292)

I do not know why the world at large finds this eternal truth so hard to believe. It is simple enough that a small child can understand it. The pattern of family life here on earth is an exact (albeit imperfect) mirror of family life in the heavens. Talking with your Eternal Father should be just as natural and instinctive as conversing with your father here on earth. The God we pray to is a loving Father, whose divine face you can picture in your mind, because you have seen human faces here on earth. "And God said, Let us make man in our image, after our likeness.... So God created man in his own image, in the image of God created he him; male and female created he them" (Genesis 1:26-27). There it is, plain as day, spelled out in simplicity in the first chapter of the Bible. We are created in their image, in the likeness of our Heavenly Parents.

For some reason though, much of the world prefers to change God into something that cannot be understood. Either they deny that He exists at all, or they choose to believe He is some type of cosmic power or force, without "body, parts or passions" (The Westminster Confession of Faith [A.D. 1646]) that cannot be understood or envisioned. These false teachings are not in the scriptures; they are the inventions of men who, whether intentionally or through ignorance, have mixed eternal truths up with their own philosophies.

There are many who would suggest that to teach that God has a body that looks like our bodies, that He is a man, that He talks with His mouth, has arms and legs and feet and very much has passions such as love, disappointment, and even occasional anger, is blasphemy. They are similar to those who criticized Jesus for saying that He is the son of God:

34 Jesus answered them, Is it not written in your law, I said, Ye are gods?
35 If he called them gods, unto whom the word of God came, and the scripture cannot be broken;
36 Say ye of him, whom the Father hath sanctified, and sent into the world, Thou blasphemest; because I said, I am the Son of God?
(John 10:34-36)

On the contrary, recognizing that mankind, male and female, are fashioned in the very image and likeness of Eternal, Celestial Parents in no way blasphemes God; it doesn't "drag Him down to our level." No, it works the other way: it elevates man.

Do you see now, my children, why Joseph Smith the prophet said that "If men do not comprehend the character of God, they do not comprehend themselves" (Teachings of the Prophet Joseph Smith, sel. Joseph Fielding Smith, Salt Lake City: Deseret Book Co., 1938, p. 343)?

For we are the children of God! We are sparks struck from a divine blaze; and though small and weak, we have the potential to grow into fires so bright and glorious that it defies imagination. And just like I, your earthly father, want more than anything else for you grow up to have every blessing and privilege that I have and more, our Father in Heaven wants nothing more than for us to "grow up" and share in the divine perfection that is His life: eternal life.

If you could remember back to the past eons of time before this world was, you would recall that you were born, raised, and loved in the mansions of Heavenly Parents. You were afforded every chance for growth and progression possible under their divine care. You "received [your] first lessons in the world of spirits" (D&C 138:56) and were saved to come to this earth, at this time, born into this family, for wise purposes. This was all planned and customized, just for you, for your good and for the ultimate salvation of the entire human family. Our family.

God has a plan for you, and a plan for me. This divine plan of salvation has everything to do with why I love your mother so much.

Part four of a twelve-chapter essay. Read more: Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch 7 | Ch 8 | Ch 9 | Ch 10 | Ch 11 | Epilogue

Wife Rule #127: Why I Love Your Mother (to my children) -- Chapter Three: The Nature of God

2010-02-07T20:16:00.000-08:00

Let us here observe, that three things are necessary, in order that any rational and intelligent being may exercise faith in God unto life and salvation. First, The idea that he actually exists. Secondly, A correct idea of his character, perfections and attributes. Thirdly, An actual knowledge that the course of life which he is pursuing, is according to his will.
--Joseph Smith, quoted in Lectures on Faith, p. 36

The great quest of this life is to search out God and come to know Him. In fact, during one of the last prayers our Savior said to Heavenly Father, Jesus stated that "this is life eternal, that they might know thee the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom thou hast sent" (John 17:3). If eternal life consists of knowing God the Father and his son Jesus Christ, then how do we come to know Them?

Certainly "knowing God" includes coming to a true understanding His identity, nature, character, and attributes. The scriptures contain hundreds of verses describing God's character. Among all these, let's start out with perhaps the most important of all of God's attributes, so simply and beautifully stated by the prophet Nephi:

"I know that he loveth his children; nevertheless, I do not know the meaning of all things" (1 Nephi 11:17).

John also records the Savior's words expressing this truth:

"For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life"
(John 3:16).

This single fact--that God loves His children--is ultimately the overriding principle that governs all the rest of His actions towards us. It is also really all we need to know in order to begin to exercise basic faith in God. By viewing all of our interactions with God through the lens of divine love, we can better understand His actions and have faith that all that He does is for our own good. The Lord explained this divine truth to Moses when He said:

"For behold, this is my work and my glory—to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man" (Moses 1:39).

This simple sentence says it all: God's work (what He does) and His glory (what He treasures most) is the salvation of His children. My own dear children, is it really so hard to believe that? Even if, like Nephi, you don't "know the meaning of all things," can you at least believe enough to know that God loves His children?

Through your relationship with your earthly father, who loves you dearly, can you begin to sense the smallest part of the love that your Heavenly Father has for you? Can you see past the imperfect, sometimes selfish parenting of your earthly father, enough to believe that there is a perfect, selfless Heavenly Father who loves you infinitely more and is also parenting you?

Can you sense what Jesus meant when He said: "Or what man is there of you, whom if his son ask bread, will he give him a stone? Or if he ask a fish, will he give him a serpent? If ye then, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children, how much more shall your Father which is in heaven give good things to them that ask him?" (Matthew 7:9-11)

Can you see how understanding that God loves you will help you through the trials and troubles of life? Can you believe that He only lets us struggle because it is for our own good?

Just like your mother and I encourage you to do things that are hard--like learning to play the piano, or ride a bike, or do math, or share with each other--because we know you will become better and someday thank us for it, so does your Heavenly Father. He asks hard things of us--such as forgiving others, or sharing the gospel, or obeying and honoring our parents--knowing that each commandment He gives will promote our growth and progression.

Just like your mother and I cannot (and should not) fix all of your problems for you--such as dealing with a kid at school who is rude to you, knowing there is an endless supply of rude kids in the world--because we know you will grow by learning to solve your own problems, so does your Heavenly Father. He lets us struggle and search, seldom handing us complete, gift-wrapped solutions that would deny us the growth gained by working through our own problems. It is typically only when we have exhausted our own abilities that He steps in with the next hint or clue, giving just enough guidance to spur on further growth as we act on His suggestions.

Our progression--and ultimate salvation--can only come as fast as we are willing to grow. Growth only comes through experience, as we exercise our agency by making choices in accordance with eternal law and in spite of hardships.

The prophet Jacob taught about a few more of God's attributes, ones that are essential for our growth:

"O the greatness and the justice of our God! For he executeth all his words, and they have gone forth out of his mouth, and his law must be fulfilled" (2 Nephi 9:17).

Justice demands consequences for our choices, and is an essential component of agency. Balancing the law of justice and giving hope to mankind, we have mercy:

"O the greatness of the mercy of our God, the Holy One of Israel! For he delivereth his saints from that awful monster the devil, and death, and hell, and that lake of fire and brimstone, which is endless torment." (2 Nephi 9:19).

Mercy is also an essential component of agency, because no one who possesses sufficient understanding to exercise agency has ever lived a life free of bad decisions, except our Savior. And it is through Him, offering Himself as vicarious payment for the penalties of the laws we break, that mercy operates. Without the mercy offered to us by Him, the demands of justice would doom us all and block our progress.

The divine dance between justice (consequences for our actions) and mercy (forgiveness for our sins), as set in motion by the Savior, provides a chance for our continued progression in spite of our imperfections. Heavenly Father can be both perfectly just and merciful, because of what Jesus did for us.

Of course our Heavenly Father, like your earthly father, would never ask you to do something that He himself is unwilling to do. God lives in perfect compliance with every eternal law. This state of perfect goodness constitutes his "holiness:"

"O how great the holiness of our God! For he knoweth all things, and there is not anything save he knows it" (2 Nephi 9:20).

It is interesting that the prophet Jacob chose to tie together "holiness" and "knowing all things." What is the relationship between knowledge and holiness? Alma sheds some light on this:

9 And now Alma began to expound these things unto him, saying: It is given unto many to know the mysteries of God; nevertheless they are laid under a strict command that they shall not impart only according to the portion of his word which he doth grant unto the children of men, according to the heed and diligence which they give unto him.
10 And therefore, he that will harden his heart, the same receiveth the lesser portion of the word; and he that will not harden his heart, to him is given the greater portion of the word, until it is given unto him to know the mysteries of God until he know them in full.
11 And they that will harden their hearts, to them is given the lesser portion of the word until they know nothing concerning his mysteries; and then they are taken captive by the devil, and led by his will down to destruction. Now this is what is meant by the chains of hell.
(Alma 12:9-11)

So we have knowledge (leading to perfection) on one end of the spectrum, and ignorance (leading to destruction) on the other. To come to truly know an eternal truth, we must (1) learn it both in our minds and in our hearts, and then (2) put it into action in our lives by obeying it. What we learn lives and dies in our heads unless we also live it.

Thus, we only come to truly "know" God as fast as we give "heed and diligence" to the commandments He gives us. In this way, we keep the same laws that He himself lives, thereby walking in His paths and coming to know Him through our own experience in following him. In order for us to come to know God and gain eternal life, which is God's entire work and glory, we must understand what God is like, and live our lives like He lives his, as much as possible.

But how is this possible? Can a mere mortal really live a godly life? And how is the quest to come to know God related to my love for your mother?

Part three of a twelve-chapter essay. Read more: Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch 7 | Ch 8 | Ch 9 | Ch 10 | Ch 11 | Epilogue

Wife Rule #126: Why I Love Your Mother (to my children) -- Chapter Two: The Agency of Man

2010-01-31T20:00:00.000-08:00

They are the workmanship of mine own hands, and I gave unto them their knowledge, in the day I created them; and in the Garden of Eden, gave I unto man his agency.
--Moses 7:32

A key to understanding God's dealings with His children is the concept of Agency.

The prophet Lehi gave to his son Jacob one of the most profound sermons in all recorded scripture, found in Second Nephi chapter two. One of his primary subjects in this sermon is agency. My dear children, in addition to recommending that you read this yourselves, I want to put it into my own words.

In this chapter, Lehi lays out eternal law as the foundation upon which God exists and operates in our lives (vs. 11-13), and then dwells significantly on the difference between "things to act, and things to be acted upon" (v. 14). It is through agency--the power to truly act, and not just to be acted upon--that mankind's destiny and purpose in creation is found. Agency is not the goal of man's existence, no; rather, it is the means through which man can achieve the ultimate goal of existence. You will never understand the purpose of creation without also understanding agency.

There are at least three pillars upon which agency depends. Like the legs of a three-legged stool, if you take away any one of these three pillars, agency ceases to function and mankind is lowered to the level of the brute beasts. These three pillars are eternal law, choice and accountability, and probation and atonement.

I. Eternal Law

Agency, or "freedom" as it is sometimes called, is greatly misunderstood in our world today because most people don't know that all three pillars must be in place for it to exist. There are those who believe that agency is restricted by applying consequences to our actions. This camp of people are opposed to enacting laws forbidding certain actions such as taking illegal drugs, for example. They feel that "freedom of choice" includes freedom from reaping the consequences of our choices. They feel that in order to increase freedom, we should decrease law. Each of you has expressed this sentiment at one time or another in our family (always when you are in violation of our family "laws," or rules). You protest loudly that "it's not fair" that a consequence should be given when a rule is broken. You can relate to those in the world whom I am talking about.

But in fact, they have it exactly backwards: agency, or "freedom," depends on laws being in place. Without any laws, as Lehi explains, the universe would be "a compound in one... having no life neither death, nor corruption nor incorruption, happiness nor misery, neither sense nor insensibility" (2 Nephi 2:11). If there is no line drawn in the sand, then it can't possibly matter where you stand, not having a fixed point to reference your positin from. As the Cheshire Cat replied to Alice in wonderland when she asked him which of two paths to take, "Where do you want to go?" "I don't know," replied Alice. "Then it doesn't matter which path you take" (see Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland (New York: William Morrow, 1992), p. 89). Earthly laws based on correct principles of eternal law are essential to the agency of man, and agency is essential to growth.

II. Choice and Accountability

Second, there has always been a camp of men on earth who seek to restrict freedom (agency) by forcing others into making certain choices. Repressive governments seek to control every aspect of their citizens' lives. It is obvious to any rational human being that while certain laws are essential to lay the moral groundwork that establishes a basis for freedom, it is also possible for laws to go too far. It is in the process of understanding law, weighing alternate choices, acting, and experiencing consequences that growth is achieved.

God will teach and explain, but He will never force action. As Lehi explains, "Wherefore, the Lord God gave unto man that he should act for himself" (2 Nephi 2:16). It is certainly wrong for men to attempt to do what God himself will not do. That is one of the toughest balances for your mother and I to get right in raising you children, but because we have your best interests in mind and desperately want you to eventually grow up and become independent, we provide opportunities for you to make your own choices as your ability to comprehend increases.

A baby makes very few choices and has very little accountability; its parents dress it, move it around, and decide when to put it to bed or get it up. As the baby grows, it gradually takes on more choices, such as what to put in its mouth, where to crawl, etc. Even with this new freedom, certain actions are restricted such as not letting the baby crawl into the street. But as the child grows further, even a place such as a street becomes an opportunity to exercise judgement and make choices. God's working with us is similar: He has given us a tremendous amount of latitude within the parameters He sets up for us according to our abilities. The more we exercise good judgement, the greater the latitude He give us, and the greater our "freedom" or agency becomes.

III. Probation and Atonement

Third, there are those in the world who lose their agency because they become trapped by their pasts. God has provided an escape from our pasts by delaying judgement for our actions, giving us a "probation" to work out our salvation:

"And the days of the children of men were prolonged, according to the will of God, that they might repent while in the flesh; wherefore, their state became a state of probation, and their time was lengthened, according to the commandments which the Lord God gave unto the children of men. For he gave commandment that all men must repent; for he showed unto all men that they were lost" (2 Nephi 2:21).

Without a space to learn from our choices, and a chance to correct wrong choices, our freedom (agency) would be non-existent and we would be instantly blocked in our progress, or "damned." The prophet Spencer W. Kimball explained it this way:

"If pain and sorrow and total punishment immediately followed the doing of evil, no soul would repeat a misdeed. If joy and peace and rewards were instantaneously given the doer of good, there could be no evil—all would do good and not because of the rightness of doing good. There would be no test of strength, no development of character, no growth of powers, no free agency.... There would also be an absence of joy, success, resurrection, eternal life, and godhood" (The Teachings of Spencer W. Kimball, ed. Edward L. Kimball (1982), 77).

For example, suppose your mother and I always rewarded you with a cookie for every good choice you made. You would either grow very fat, or learn to hate cookies, but you would certainly not learn to make good choices for their own merits. We would stunt your growth by spoiling you.

Likewise, if your mother and I sent you to Time Out forever the first time you broke a family rule, it would be very difficult for you to grow and develop as you should. The fact that we have a space for repentance--to change our actions in accordance with eternal law--is essential to our growth and progress.

It would all be meaningless, however, if repentance were not possible. This is where the "good news" of the gospel comes into play. God sent his Son, the only perfect man to ever walk the earth, to become a ransom for us, a mediator between us and the eternal law of justice, which cannot be violated. Justice demands consequences for every choice, and having a mediator who is able to pay the demands of justice introduces the eternal law of mercy into the equation, enabling us to rise again after we fall.

Alma 34:16 explains, "And thus mercy can satisfy the demands of justice, and encircles them in the arms of safety, while he that exercises no faith unto repentance is exposed to the whole law of the demands of justice; therefore only unto him that has faith unto repentance is brought about the great and eternal plan of redemption."

This plan of redemption, another name for the plan of salvation, hinges on the Savior coming to earth and through His suffering for our sins and breaking the bands of death, redeeming us from the fall. It also hinges on us having a chance (or a probationary time) to repent and take advantage of what He offers us.

As Lehi explained in 2 Nephi 2:

24 But behold, all things have been done in the wisdom of him who knoweth all things.
25 Adam fell that men might be; and men are, that they might have joy.
26 And the Messiah cometh in the fulness of time, that he may redeem the children of men from the fall. And because that they are redeemed from the fall they have become free forever, knowing good from evil; to act for themselves and not to be acted upon, save it be by the punishment of the law at the great and last day, according to the commandments which God hath given.
27 Wherefore, men are free according to the flesh; and all things are given them which are expedient unto man. And they are free to choose liberty and eternal life, through the great Mediator of all men, or to choose captivity and death, according to the captivity and power of the devil; for he seeketh that all men might be miserable like unto himself.
28 And now, my sons, I would that ye should look to the great Mediator, and hearken unto his great commandments; and be faithful unto his words, and choose eternal life, according to the will of his Holy Spirit;

The gospel of Jesus Christ truly is "good news," and it brings increased freedom to all who learn of it. In fact, knowing the gospel plan is the only way that mankind can achieve complete freedom and attain the full measure of agency available here on earth. That is why it is essential that the whole world be given the gospel message.

You, my children, are free. You have been provided with a full measure of the three essential pillars of agency: you know the law because your mother and I have taken great care to teach you; you have the ability to make choices and we try to make you accountable for those choices; and you have the chance to repent and change because Jesus Christ died for you. You know these truths, and you can exercise your agency to your own salvation if you so choose.

And what exactly is that salvation? To have any hope of understanding that, and how it relates to the love I have for your mother, we must better understand our relationship to God. And in order to do that, we must first understand what God is like.

Part two of a twelve-chapter essay. Read more: Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch 7 | Ch 8 | Ch 9 | Ch 10 | Ch 11 | Epilogue

Wife Rule #125: Why I Love Your Mother (to my children) -- Chapter One: Truth and Law

2010-01-24T20:11:00.000-08:00

The most important thing a father can do for his children is to love their mother.
--David O. McKay

My children, I love you. And in so doing, yes, I love your mother too. I could list, and in these Wife Rules I have listed, many of the reasons why I love your mother like I do.

Your mother is kind. Her feelings of sympathy and compassion have been manifest countless times in the tender way in which she has interacted with you; in the way that she prays for those in need, and then rises from her knees to serve them; in the way that she truly "mourns with those that mourn, and comforts those that stand in need of comfort" (Mosiah 18:9).

Your mother is unfailingly unselfish. She has placed her life on the line to bring each of you into the world. She has devoted the best energy and hours of her day to serve you; to wash you; to clothe you; to feed you; and to clean up after you. She gives most of what time and energy are left to me, and is a wonderful companion and the best comfort and friend I could have.

Your mother is tremendously talented. Her mind is capable of understanding the finest art and literature; the mysteries of science; the logic of mathematics; the economy of running a complicated and busy household; the events--and their implications--of the world around us; and for appreciating and integrating the best, most beautiful aspects this world has to offer into our home and family.

Your mother is virtuous. "Who can find a virtuous woman? for her price is far above rubies" (Proverbs 31:10). The virtue of her soul and the integrity of her heart shine from her eyes and set her countenance aglow; they add to the physical beauty of her person and give her a luminance worthy of the angels. And indeed, I feel that I can trust her with my very life and soul, as I can the angels. I have placed my complete confidence in her, putting "all my eggs in one basket" in entering into an eternal quest with her as my wife. Her virtue is her greatest strength and should be prized and emulated by her children.

There are a hundred other reasons that I love her, and a hundred other ways that she has enriched my life, but I won't list any more of them now. You know many of these already, and if you observe her demeanor and actions carefully, the rest will manifest themselves. My point in what I am writing now is something far more important; for without it, all her kindness, unselfishness, talents, and virtues would ultimately not have much of an eternal impact on my life.

There is, underlying all these gifts your mother possesses, an order in the universe that gives far more meaning to the feelings of love we share. This order, this truth, is eternal. Before you can hope to make sense of the wonder of eternity, or even the limited scope of the world we know now, it is essential for you to understand the truth.

I will do my best here to explain the truth to you, at least as well as I understand it myself, using my own words and the words of others. Please keep in mind that this explanation is coming from your father's very limited mind and heart, and may be filtered or distorted by my own life's experiences and prejudices. Please remember that to whatever extent my words happen to conflict with the revealed word of God, whether revealed in the past or yet to be in the future, to that extent I am wrong. But despite my weakness, I believe that I have something of value--in fact, of tremendous value--that has grown in my heart from small seeds that were planted when I was only your age, which have been carefully nurtured and cultivated until they have grown into a mighty force which governs my life now. I very badly want to paint a picture for you of what I know, to give you a glimpse into the lens through which I see and interpret life and the world around me. To me now, as a husband and father, a son and brother, it is a more beautiful view than I could ever have imagined, with a scope that extends far beyond the highest mortal vistas; a grand hope and anticipated--and actualized--joy that reaches through time and touches the far places in eternity.

There does exist absolute, nonnegotiable truth. The world, through both willful and unwitting ignorance, will tell you that this is not so, but the world is wrong. Truth exists, the "fairest gem that the riches of worlds can produce" (John Jaques, Hymns of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, no. 272). What use is there in believing in fables or false systems that lead to dead-ends? Truth is real; truth is eternal; truth is unchanging; truth is not subject to popular opinion and does not modify itself for your convenience or circumstances. Truth is the one, the only, solid thing to grasp onto in a tumultuous sea of philosophy and sophistry.

Whether you know the truth does not change the truth. Whether you choose to believe the truth does not change the truth. All true principles are as eternal as God himself is (and yes, it is true that we have a God). God neither creates nor destroys these principles; He proclaims the truth of them and lays them out in a pattern and plan that we can understand. This plan is called the Plan of Salvation, and these principles of truth are called eternal law.

Lehi the prophet explained about eternal law this way:

"And if ye shall say there is no law, ye shall also say there is no sin. If ye shall say there is no sin, ye shall also say there is no righteousness. And if there be no righteousness there be no happiness. And if there be no righteousness nor happiness there be no punishment nor misery. And if these things are not there is no God. And if there is no God we are not, neither the earth; for there could have been no creation of things, neither to act nor to be acted upon; wherefore, all things must have vanished away" (2 Nephi 2:13).

You will notice, my children, that the foundation of all existence is law. This may seem surprising to you, since we know that God created all things, but if you stop to think about it, it makes sense. Law is like a line drawn in the sand; without the line there could be no left nor right of the line. Law defines the "opposition in all things" (2 Nephi 2:11) upon which all creation hangs (see verses 11 and 12). From eternal law flows the definitions of sin and righteousness, of happiness and misery, and without these concepts, God's status as God would not mean anything. God himself follows eternal laws; for example, He loves His children and always does what is best for us; He is unselfish and unfailingly kind; He embodies virtue and holiness. He cannot break these laws, such as the law of justice, or He would "cease to be God" (Alma 42:13).

The false, imaginary gods of the world that are conjured up in men's minds (and have no basis in truth) follow no such laws. The legends about them show them to be as foolish and fickle as the men who invented them, rendering them completely unable to engender any true faith. They do not look out for the welfare of men, but serve their own selfish purposes. Beware of any system of belief that bows to any god besides the one, true God, the God of truth.

The prophet Joseph Smith taught that true faith must include a "correct idea of [God’s] character, perfections, and attributes" (Lectures on Faith [1985], 38). This makes perfect sense; any faith founded upon false principles or looking to a false concept of God will eventually be shown to be powerless.

Joseph Smith also taught that "If men do not comprehend the character of God, they do not comprehend themselves" (Teachings of the Prophet Joseph Smith, sel. Joseph Fielding Smith, Salt Lake City: Deseret Book Co., 1938, p. 343). Having a correct understanding of who God is, what He is like, and why and how He interacts with us is the key to comprehending our own existence, and the key to comprehending why I love your mother more than any other person or thing on earth.

Part one of a twelve-chapter essay. Read more: Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch 7 | Ch 8 | Ch 9 | Ch 10 | Ch 11 | Epilogue

Wife Rule #124: Pause to Reflect

2009-12-31T23:31:00.000-08:00

It always pays off to pause to reflect on what has been happening in life. We have an annual event--the writing of the yearly Christmas newsletter--that helps us in this effort. Here is this year's entry:

Dear friends and family, we are attempting to “spice up” another rather mundane Christmas newsletter by presenting it in a style inspired by humor columnist Dave Barry’s “Year in Review” series. So here’s our Family 2009 Year in Review:

January: Besides making resolutions that we mostly don’t remember anymore, we spend a lot of time shivering. We also spend weeks trying to free the children’s remaining Christmas toys from their display packaging. Did you know a single Barbie has 347 distinct connectors that must be severed, some with bolt cutters, in order to release her from her cardboard display, which when unfolded, is approximately the same square footage as our home? My wife, being recently released from three years of service as the Primary President, resolves to have hobbies again. Rachel (age seven) resolves to spend as much of the year upside-down as possible, and vigorously works towards this goal by hanging off the couch onto her head during all religious family functions.

February: My wife and I return to sunny St. George for our second annual winter getaway, inspired by our first annual winter getaway last year, inspired by our first-ever vacation away from children in Hawaii the summer before. My parents, who watch the kids yet again, see a worrisome pattern developing. We have a fabulous time, doing totally crazy things such as eating our food while it’s still warm, taking naps, and enjoying actual dead spots in the conversation. My wife takes Andrew (age three) to the Thanksgiving Point Farm where he experiences his first full-on crush: she’s kind of short, has long brown hair, is named “Flicka,” and is a pony.

March begins okay, with Rachel upside down a lot (gymnastics class, you know) and Dawn (age nine) and Scott (age five) starting up the spring soccer season with a bang. Unfortunately, it turns into a rather somber month when we learn that my dad has cancer again, after about five years of remission. We spend a lot of time crying and praying. This leaves Scott with excess pent-up energy, which he releases by scoring soccer goals like a madman. He scored six in his first game against the other team’s one (really).

April: Spring Fever hits hard. The tulips burst forth at Thanksgiving Point botanical gardens and our family spends hours there, frolicking on flowery, grassy knolls along with the fluffy bunnies who escaped the Elmer Fudd-like exploits of the overly protective gardening staff. Nearly the whole extended family treks through wind and snow to camp and hike together at Arches National Park. Here, my dad, my brother, and I—in the grand name of tradition—rouse the kids from their tents, through early-morning snow flurries, and march them—in their pajamas—for several miles off-trail through a red-rock canyon riddled with icy pools to cross and terrifying (if you are three) cliffs to scale. After the survivors return and all the band-aids are applied and all the tears are dried, the kids plainly discern that tradition not only builds a lot of character, but also is fun! Scott averages 13,057 goals per soccer game. An opposing player loses an arm when, in frustration, he tries to knock down one of Scott’s super-sonic, goal-scoring kicks. Charity turns the big Uno.

May: Dawn, Rachel, and I go to a Daddy-daughter Sock Hop at the church, and win the “Most Authentic Costume” award on account of the girls’ adorable homemade poodle skirts and my naturally greasy hair. Soccer season ends with Scott’s tally topping 1,000,000 goals, shattering intergalactic records. Andrew has a falling-out with Flicka when she is seen giving a ride to another boy at the farm, and takes the hayride instead. I turn 30-something (again), and start daydreaming about the next trip to Arches.

June: Motivated by Dad’s cancer, plus thinking how cute we would look smooching on the bow of a large cruise ship, my wife and I decide to pony up the cash to join my parents on a 7-day Alaskan cruise (thanks again for watching the kids, Mom!). Charity tags along, and, although she is barely one year old and sleeps in the closet, costs $450. She does, however, single-handedly score us a reserved table by the window and a super-attentive waiter by virtue of being as cute as a button. She manages to wolf down at least, maybe 50 calories per meal, at a dismal efficiency rate of 2.33 calories per dollar spent. I earnestly try to compensate for this inefficiency by ingesting at least 2,000 calories at every sitting, usually eating at least two entrees and two desserts, and I return home looking, well, more like Jabba the Hutt than Han Solo, if you follow. The first time I go out to play with the kids on the trampoline after returning, I take a mighty jump and find myself standing on the grass beneath, having broken clean through it (really). While on the cruise, my wife turns 30-something (again). I am called to replace the wonderful Elders Quorum President I have been serving with for three years. My wife and I celebrate this new opportunity for growth by both growing several new gray hairs.

July: My side of the extended family spends a reunion in Paris Idaho (thanks again, Mom), in the house where my wife grew up. Here we do a little bit of everything this region of Idaho has to offer: swimming at Bear Lake, spelunking in Minnetonka Cave, hiking in Bloomington Canyon, eating yummy food, playing games, talking into the wee hours of the night, and, of course, shooting stuff. I take pictures of my parents sporting guns with genuine weeds hanging out of their mouths. Andrew’s horizons expand when he notices that there are lots of other ponies here. Rachel spends some quality time upside-down. She and Scott turn eight and six, respectively.

August is a whirlwind of activity—the kind that typically leaves a jumble of trailer homes behind it. We start out with the happiest of occasions, Rachel’s baptism, which is everything we hoped it would be. This is followed by a week in Newport Beach, where Charity eats lots of sand, Andrew throws lots of sand, Scott kicks lots of sand, Rachel spends lots of time upside down with her hair in the sand, and Dawn spends all her time in the water (there’s one in every family). We arrive home just in time to travel to Idaho for my wife’s sister’s wedding, where—as if a minivan full of five kids weren’t already chaotic enough—we promptly make a spectacle of ourselves by taking the wrong road on the way to the temple, instead taking a scenic tour of the Snake River and showing up nearly a full hour late (thanks again for waiting). Scott, Rachel, and Dawn start school and soccer. Scott decides defending is really “his thing” and tones it down on the goals (no one on the opposing team loses any limbs during his first game). Andrew joins Rachel (still upside-down) in gymnastics. Rachel joins Dawn in the ranks of piano students. Dawn joins the 4th grade ballroom dance team. The kids all shine as their talents continue to develop.

September is a welcome return to our regularly-scheduled program of controlled chaos. The kids are back at school, I am grateful to be back at work, and Andrew has replaced Flicka with a new love at the farm: a small, plastic, red fire engine in the gift shop. Now he begs to return to the farm to see the fire engine instead of the ponies. Charity, growing into quite the little lady, begins a love affair with purses—or when a real purse can’t be found, any pair of undees she can find laying around that will fit over her arm. My wife is happy to have the chance to just breathe. My dad accompanies me, Scott, and Andrew on a Fathers and Sons campout, and helps a ton. Thanks, Dad!

October: Thanks to a hot tip from Mom, we spend two jam-packed days on a “staycation” wherein we see everything around town (the zoo, the aquarium, the planetarium, etc) that we have promised to take our kids to for ages, and have the time of our lives. We survive another weekend of “making memories by defying death” in Arches National Park. I return home in a blissful, dream-like state and immediately begin planning next April’s trip to Arches. Halloween involves too much sugar: Rachel is on her head for weeks, and Scott finishes off the soccer season by inflicting a full decapitation during a goal-scoring kick. Andrew turns four and literally shakes with delight as he opens both the red and the green fire engines from the farm’s gift shop. He also asks for, and receives, a Dirt Devil handheld vacuum and is genuinely delighted (who knew?).

November: Chilly air brings the scent of tradition. My wife delights herself in decorating, and delights the rest of us in baking. My dad begins chemo and can surely use your prayers. Dawn (who turns ten next month) absolutely slays her teacher with her preparation for her 4th grade research report. My wife and I worry that we are spoiled by having an overachieving first child. Christmas shopping shapes up, the whole family spends a week sick, and this Year in Review is written, the week before Thanksgiving. I am sure to become a little fatter by the end of the month (a cause for celebration all its own), but for now we are concentrating on being thankful for you, and believe us, we are.

December: As for our family, we’ll see what unfolds; there will be parties, concerts, recitals, and of course, more chaos. We hope that December finds you well and happy. It is, after all, the happiest of all the happy months of the year, celebrating the world’s best news of all: a Baby was born with the message and power to change us, forever. And the our family is shooting for forever, even if one month at a time.

Wife Rule #123: Appreciate the Gifts

2009-12-23T18:11:00.000-08:00

My wife often gives me gifts. Not the kind that are wrapped in colored paper with ribbons or bows, but the intangible, more valuable kind: gifts of service, gifts of self, and gifts of time.

This past month she has given me a precious gift of time by agreeing that I should participate in a church-sponsored production of selections from Handel's Messiah. For the last several years I have sung with my parents and siblings in the chorus for this production. Singing together is a cherished family tradition, dating back as far as I can remember, to the hymns we would sing together each Monday family night, to weekly congregational singing in church with Dad as chorister, to the many years we sang together in our church choir with Dad often serving as the choir director, to more recent memories of huddling around the piano at family gatherings and singing Christmas music or hymns to our Lord.

Throughout all these memories, if I could point to a single common thread besides the sweet Spirit that always accompanies the unifying experience of singing sacred music together, it would be Dad. Dad's intense love of music, coupled with his profound love for the Lord, brought a passion and sweet flavor to these singing experiences that has engraved itself on my heart and memory like a soft, ongoing melody.

As the Messiah concert has developed into sort of a new tradition, I have come to relish the yearly opportunity to sing with the choir, which continues to improve, and the orchestra, which is absolutely top-notch for a community-level production. Unfortunately, my wife's experience sitting with the kids in the audience has continued to deteriorate year after year, culminating in several tantrums so loud last year that she was forced to first leave the chapel where the audience sat, then leave the adjacent foyer, and eventually sit out the remainder of the two-hour program in a remote classroom where my loving progeny couldn't be heard by those trying to enjoy the music. She vowed never to bring the younger kids to the Messiah again.

Hence, this year not only did she give me the opportunity to practice with the choir, but also her blessing to spend a precious December night away from the family at the performance. This is a significant sacrifice for a full-time mother of five children ages ten to one, and one that is very much appreciated. She knows how much this means to me, despite the difficulty of leaving my family for another night. She was genuinely happy to do it, especially considering that we don't know how many more performances my Dad will be able to sing with us in, with his ongoing cancer struggle.

This year's production held an unexpected treat. During Saturday morning's dress rehearsal, as we were getting ready to sing the most well-known and beloved of all the Messiah choruses, the Hallelujah chorus, the conductor suddenly stopped and said, "I have a special request." She then asked my father if he would come down to the podium and take the baton to conduct choir and orchestra through this masterful composition of scriptural praise set to jubilant music.

As Dad made his way through the choir seats and then through the orchestra to the podium, there were quiet whispers of excitement among us. Nearly everyone from the choir knew Dad--knew of his long service as a church music conductor, of his love of music, knew of his struggle with cancer, but especially knew of his quiet, humble, unassuming demeanor and his unwavering faith in the Lord.

As Dad flicked the baton to start the orchestra in the opening measures, energy built up in the choir until it practically exploded in the first strains of "Hallelujah! Hallelujah!" The sound burst forth in perfect rhythm and harmony in praise of Jesus Christ, the Savior who had healed the man now conducting us five years ago from cancer, and He to whom we now trusted Dad's life in his current struggles.

"Hallelujah!" Our single-word cries of love and adoration for God rang through the chapel.

"For the Lord God Omnipotent reigneth!" Expressions of faith in our all-powerful Creator mingled with unspoken cries of hope for further healing and faith in His wisdom as my father's hand led us onward through the chorus.

"King of kings, and Lord of lords!" Tears flowed freely now from many members of the chorus as we contemplated the majesty of the Savior's position as Creator of kingdoms without end.

"And He shall reign forever and ever!" Yes, forever and ever. That is what we have to look forward to. There will come a time when sickness, and loss, and sorrow will end and all will be replaced with order and perfection by the might of His arm and the grace of His love for us. Dad's cancer is temporary. The humble, gentle man now standing before us, leading us through an anthem of faith and adoration, will someday be permanently healed. In the eternities, Dad and every friend and loved one who honors the name of Christ the King of kings and Lord of lords, will reign with Him forever and ever, in happiness that never ends.

Our voices broke again and again until the final triumphal shouts of "Hallelujah! Hallelujah!" gave way to a few seconds of silence, followed by enthusiastic applause. Amidst teary eyes and encouraging smiles, Dad made his way back to his seat with the choir, and the conductor took her place to lead the soloists through the transcendent melodies of I Know that My Redeemer Liveth and The Trumpet Shall Sound:

I know that my Redeemer liveth, and that He shall stand at the last day.
Though worms destroy this body, yet in my flesh shall I see God.

The trumpet shall sound and the dead shall be raised, incorruptible. And we shall be changed.

Yes, we shall be changed. Changed from mortality to immortality. Changed from our frail, sinful states to a condition of perfected glory, to stand together with our families, forever to worship our Creator, our Redeemer, and the Captain of our souls.

Thank you for the gift of time, my Love.

Thank you for the gift of music and testimony, Dad.

And thank You for the gifts of redemption and love, my Savior and Messiah.

Wife Rule #122: Appreciate the Good Days

2009-11-23T20:15:00.000-08:00

I am now finishing day eight of a nasty run-in with Swine-Flu's lesser-known little brother. This illness looks, acts, and feels like Swine or any other good, hearty flu, but yet turns up negative on the flu tests. That means Tama-Flu won't help. There's nothing to do but try to rest (while juggling life) and wait it out.

I am getting weary of being sick and am a little discouraged today, having taken a step backwards, and especially since three of my five kids have now joined me on the Fever and Cough Train. I tried my hardest not to share. Really I did.

But Wednesday was a good day. It was the first day since last Sunday that I didn't feel foggy around the brain. It was the day my appetite ventured back, at least into the background. It was the day I only napped for two hours and still felt pretty good by 8:00 at night. It was also the day Mom and Dad dropped in to visit.

That was a special treat, because I had been wanting to see them fairly badly since we had to cancel our visiting plans on Sunday on account of this sickness. Dad started chemotherapy two weeks ago, and I hadn't seen him since--only talked to him on the phone. Everyone else in the family had found a way to make it up for a visit but me. It just hadn't worked out. I wanted to see him badly, just to tell him in person that I am sorry he is sick, and I am sorry he is suffering. But delivering both comfort and the Black Plague to a sick man with a weakened immune system didn't seem like a good idea.

So it is a little ironic that it was me who was crashed out on the couch on Wednesday and awoke to find Dad standing nearby, greeting me with a smile and a bit of a concerned look on his face. He told me that he was sorry that I was sick. I reciprocated. I stared up at that man that I love with all my heart. He didn't look tired; it is his week off chemo, and he was having a good day. I longed to give him a hug. It's all I've wanted to do for several weeks now, but I knew better. There will be a chance for hugs later, and for that I am grateful.

Mom and Dad didn't stay long, and now that four of us are running hundred-and-two's, I'm glad they didn't. But it was so refreshing, so comforting to see them, even if for only a few minutes. It made Wednesday an extra good day.

And to cap off a good day, Wednesday night held an extra treat in store, specifically the hour from 3:00 to 4:00 AM. It was during this hour that I found myself unable to sleep, with my mind recalling in vivid detail the Alaskan cruise my wife and I took with Mom and Dad and one-year-old Charity back in June. It was a most pleasant hour.

Mom and Dad had planned this cruise with friends several months earlier. We tagged along at the last minute, quite frankly, because of Dad's cancer diagnosis. We had talked of going on a cruise with them for years, but it was never convenient. Then cancer, the Great Priority Reshuffler, suddenly made it convenient. We got one of the very last cabins in the price range we could afford.

It was our first experience cruising, and we had a marvelous week. Even though cancer spurred us out the door, it was absent on the cruise. I can honestly say that the week consisted of only smiles, happy conversation, adventures, recreation, amazing food, and the occasional poopy diaper. We had a great time together and I will always cherish that week in my memory.

I just hadn't gotten around to writing it down before now; I don't know why. Maybe it's because there was too much detail to record in a few hours. Maybe it's because I was afraid of not doing it justice. Maybe it's just life. But the hour I spent back on the cruise again Wednesday night, in a pleasant, dream-like state of silent reverie, devoid of any sight or sound or workaday worries to distract me, felt something akin to heaven. I decided then, while wrapped underneath two quilts with my heated mattress pad on (chills, you know), that I needed to write it down, and soon, before the visions passed forever from my mind.

* * *

My memories centered around and kept flowing back to one certain day of the cruise, the day we sailed up Tracy Arm. Tracy Arm is one of the Alaskan fjords that runs several miles inland, winding its way through a dramatic canyon cut between majestic glacier-topped peaks. While the famous Alaskan Inside Passage afforded rather spectacular scenery during much of the cruise, this was the only day during the week when the windows and deck of the boat were the front-row seats of the primary attraction.

Tracy Arm was spectacular; it was the best scenery of the week. The imposing gray cliffs of the mountains often plunged into the water at the same nearly-vertical angles they maintained for hundreds of feet up the mountainside, disappearing into the inky, glacially-tinted aquamarine waters. Every so often the cliffs were segmented by fissures, in which grew hardy pines and shrubs, or were split clean open by a miniature canyon barely wide enough for the continuous onslaught of meltwater that roared and foamed its way into the Mother Sea.

Where the vertical cliffs gave way to more tempered slopes, they were blanketed by dense forest growth of a surprisingly lustrous green, giving the canyon walls a look similar to tightly-packed boulders with a heavy moss coating on top, magnified a hundred thousand times.

The individual mountains were demarcated by grand, U-shaped valleys, each with its own glacier, whose erosive forces subtly but surely increase the reach of the tentacles of Tracy Arm as she claws her way further inland, year after year. These long, narrow valleys often looked like a slice of paradise, paradoxically juxtaposed against the fury of a world of ice and snow. The verdant fields of grass and lazy, meandering streams seemed to hold a magnetic attraction to the spotty sunlight that day, illuminating them with gold and giving them such an idyllic appearance that I was almost amazed not to see great herds of moose or caribou luxuriating in the gentle caress of their meadows.

But, it seemed that the wildlife that day was all in the fjord, sharing the waters with our ship, the Golden Princess. In fact, just as we (my wife, Charity, and I) were finishing up breakfast while enjoying the scenery out the window, an announcement came over the Public Address system to look for some seals alongside the ship. We all got up to look, since the announcement came from the very dramatic voice of our trusty, on-board naturalist.

A few words about our naturalist: he was probably forty-something, maybe pushing fifty, but apparently still believed he was quite a catch. He wore hippie garb and had long, flowing brown locks and a thick mustache below beady little eyes; kind of a hybrid of the musician Yanni and Geraldo Rivera, but without the talent or the broken nose. His oratory style was singularly dramatic, uttering every single line as if it was both profound and deeply moving, with his voice inflection sinking down a full octave on the last syllable of each phrase. Think of the melodramatic tempo of William Shatner: "Space... The final frontier... These are the voyages of the Starship Enterprise..." but imagine that his voice dips from normal range to a deep, sultry bass on the words Space, frontier, and Enterprise, and you will get the sense of listening to our naturalist. We only survived the first twenty minutes of his first lecture, through hushed sniggering and gleeful sideways glances, before leaving. But we carried his legacy with us throughout the week, often repeating phrases in his oratory style for dramatic effect ("Please... pass the breadbasket...").

So as I said, I was just about to bite into my last sausage when our naturalist came on the PA system to announce that a mother seal could be seen with her cub, resting on a small iceberg up ahead. Then he went on: "You know... it's amazing up here... in the mighty Alaskan wilderness... that nothing is wasted... I once saw a bald eagle land on a blood-red iceberg... it was ravenously eating something there... but it wasn't a baby seal... it was the afterbirth... the baby seal was safe with its mother... and the eagle was well fed... nothing is wasted, not even the bloody afterbirth..."

After that moving and emotional story, I looked down at the greasy piece of meat on my plate and asked my wife, "You want my sausage?"

It was about this time that my parents found us and we all decided to head up to the top deck to better enjoy the scenery. It was fairly warm for a June day as far north as we were, and the breeze was nearly non-existent. We marveled at the slate cliffs and waterfalls, the green of the forest, the height of the mountains, the ominous coldness of the water, and the small chunks of glacial ice floating all around us. Every once in a while the ship would run right over the top of one large enough to hear just a little crunch and groan as it was pulverized beneath our weight (see, all that cruise food does some good!).

Speaking of excess weight, our naturalist came over the PA again: "Now here in these frigid waters... where waterfalls cascade down like satin ribbons... a human will only survive about ten minutes... before freezing to death... the longest record of human survival here... in majestic Tracy Arm... was a native woman of the north who fell in... and it took them almost an hour to find her... but she was still conscious... and holding onto a log... she survived without any serious injuries... How did she do it?... She was less than five feet tall... and weighed over 300 pounds... like the seal or the otter... her natural insulation protected her..."

At this point we all agreed that we felt pretty optimistic about our chances for survival. After all, we had spent the whole trip up to this point preparing for just such a catastrophe by stuffing ourselves to the point of exhaustion during every meal. I mean, let's be honest: the main point of a cruise--yes, the main point, even more than whatever sights there are to see--is to eat like a pig. You could actually emulate a low-budget cruise fairly realistically by dressing in fancy clothes and parking yourself in Chuck-a-rama every day for twelve hours straight.

* * *

The food on the Golden Princess, of course, was much better than Chuck-a-rama. Instead of struggling to decide between the fried chicken or the roast beef, you had to struggle with the decision between filet mignon with sauteed shrimp, or the blackened swordfish with lobster reduction. It didn't take long to discover that in reality there was no reason to choose between the two at all, when you could solve the problem by simply having both. This proved to be an essential strategy, because most of the menu items only showed up one night of the cruise, only to be replaced by other outrageously yummy items the next night. I employed this strategy at almost every meal, and as a result I maximized my chances to sample some of the tastiest food I have ever eaten in my life.

Of course, let's not forget the appetizers. From a person who has never ordered an appetizer, a main course, and a dessert from an ala carte menu, these simply could not be missed. I almost always ended up with a shrimp cocktail (available every night) and some other adventurous thing, such as a lobster souffle, or thin pieces of meat with artfully drizzled French sauces on them. I don't even really know what most of the appetizers were; but they were almost always delicious. Even the escargot was surprisingly good, like eating cheesy, garlicky, buttery, rubber bands. The lone exception was the caviar, which was like eating grainy tapioca soaked in super-strong fish oil--no, thanks.

Then of course there were the desserts: each night there was a different dessert menu, again with several "standard" choices available every night and a half-dozen or so items that only appeared once. I always ordered any available dessert souffle after my first rewarding experience with the chocolate souffle, punctured personally by my waiter and filled via teaspoon to the brim with warm caramel ("Are you sure you want another spoonful, sir?" "If you've got more, keep it coming!"). I almost always ended up with two desserts as well. I think my stomach stretched significantly during that week. Those were good days.

Dessert also provided some of the best entertainment of the whole meal, as I'll explain in a minute. We spent our first dinner at the buffet, but on the second day we went to one of the several formal restaurants early, to avoid the hour-long lines that often formed during peak mealtime. During our second meal at the restaurant, one of the Maître d's, an older gentleman from Portugal named Antonio, took a particular liking to Charity. When he came to personally take our dessert orders he asked, "And what would leetle Charitee like?" We replied to bring a small dish of ice cream. "Oh no! No, Charitee would like The Volcano!" So it was that he brought her a large dish with three huge scoops of ice cream and a mound of whipping cream and chocolate sauce about five inches high. She took one look at her Volcano, looked up, and smiled. Antonio was smitten.

At the end of the night, Antonio asked us, "How would you like to have a reeserved table here everee night, by the window?" Are you kidding? There were only about a dozen tables by windows at all, and this meant that we would never have to wait in line! "Just come at seex o'clock, and Antonio will take care of you, right leetle Charitee?"

So we came every night at six o'clock, strolled past the long line already formed at the door (rumors of the filet mignon and prime rib must have reached the buffet crowd at last), and sat down at our reserved table by the window. There was always a high chair waiting for Charity. Antonio would come by to take her order while the rest of us were still deciding on appetizers. Then he would personally bring her food out and painstakingly cut it into bite-size pieces on her tray. "Ees thees leetle enough?" he would check with my wife or me. When he saw that Charity was settled in for her meal, he would disappear to his other duties and let our normal waiter staff take care of the rest of us (which included bringing our courses, taking our dishes, swiping crumbs off the table, smoothing the tablecloth, etc).

Antonio would reappear 45 minutes later or so and ask "Ees Charitee ready for her meelk now?" and take her sippy cup back to the kitchen, wash it, and fill it with milk. He would then disappear again until making his final appearance to bring Charity her Volcano for dessert. Antonio made sure that Charity kept her own eating schedule, regardless of whether there was a backup in the kitchen for lobster for the rest of us, or whatever. He really made the difference for Charity.

One more dessert story before I return to Tracy Arm: tired of mousses, warm fruit cobblers, ice cream concoctions, dessert crepes and souffles, and everything else the menu offered, my nothing-if-not-adventurous wife decided to order the "fruit and exotic cheese" dish. The cheese, was, well, exotic. She enjoyed a few of the varieties, but crinkled up her nose when she poked at something called "esrom cheese." Mustering her courage, she forked off a small bite and popped it in her mouth. Her eyes immediately turned red and started watering, and she struggled to swallow before spluttering out "Sweaty armpits!" We had all paused to watch this spectacle and with her official assessment of esrom cheese we burst into laughter. And then, for some unexplainable reason, my nothing-if-not-persistent wife took another bite, setting off another chain of tears, hacking, spluttering, and even harder laughter. "I just wanted to see if it was really as bad as I thought it was," she later explained. "And it was even worse. It was like... like putrid feet!" My dad thought that was one of the funniest things he had ever seen, and mentioned esrom cheese with glee for weeks afterwards.

* * *

It was this type of humor that provided the good cheer we found ourselves enjoying up on the deck of the ship while cruising up Tracy Arm. Enjoying the scenery from the ship was a different type of recreation; not necessarily the superior type for every day, but today it felt like the best place to be.

Over the previous days we had hiked the lush rainforest surrounding Mendenhall glacier out of Juneau, and taken a bus ride into the Yukon from Skagway (yes, take the bus, not the train, unless you get a real charge out of riding a rickety old train; but the bus goes much farther north whereas the train doesn't even reach the best scenery). We had marveled at a river that splits clean in two on the continental divide, emptying into both oceans (really!), watched Iditarod dogs clamor to pull sleds (Charity loved the puppies), and saw a bear rummaging through an old Yukon railyard. In the next several days we would enjoy both the shops and the rainforests of Ketchikan, and the beauty of the city and shores of Victoria. The on-shore activities were top-notch.

On the ship we had fully utilized the available venues, having gone to the musical shows with mixed reviews of what we saw there; enjoyed ballroom dancing lessons (thanks again for babysitting, Mom and Dad); been to several of the dances--some alone, some with the whole crew; watched the amazing skills of the performers of the Rolla-bolla act as they performed mind-bending balancing feats atop stacked layers of rolling cylinders; laughed at the charming juggler guy whose appeal probably came as much from looking and acting like a normal guy as it did from his skills; and spent hours being dazzled by Chris May, their on-board Jazz pianist.

Chris was amazing. His arrangements were top-notch and virtuosic, his repertoire seemed endless, and his voice was that of a classic New Orleans jazz man. He was surely the least appreciated of all the performers, coming out only later at night and playing to a small, intimate crowd. My wife and I sat there, mesmerized for at least 30 minutes every night after we discovered him. I would sit right by the piano with a rather stupid-looking grin on my face as I watched his fingers fly across the keyboard effortlessly. It was exceptional entertainment.

There were a couple of memories of dancing that will stick, too. The first is when all of us--Mom, Dad, Charity, my wife, and me--went dancing to the music of a small, live band at the back of one of the clubs. We only stayed for maybe fifteen minutes, but in those minutes my mind recorded footage that I will cherish forever: Mom and Dad dancing, not just the slow dances, but the faster ones too. Them laughing; them together; them looking at each other like newlyweds; them taking Charity, allowing my wife and I a slow dance together; holding my wife and softly pecking her on the cheek; dancing all together in a circle, with Charity in the middle. It was one of those times where, for the sheer joy of the moment, time slowed to a crawl and I found myself wishing it would never end.

The other was when my wife and I, who had been practicing our West Coast Swing moves (I only do dances I have been taught, not having any natural aptitude at all), were given a "lucky stick" by some random guy. He walked up, gave it to us, and told us to hang onto it. I should have known that was trouble. We didn't realize that the random guy was a staff member who had been charged with finding three couples to do a Twist competition, and our "lucky stick" was our ticket into the competition. I panicked. I didn't (and you may have a hard time believing this) even know what the Twist was, and as fate would have it, we were Couple Number One. I had no idea what to do, so with the spotlight and all eyes on us, I gave my wife the most desperate look I could that pleaded "Please don't abandon me on this... whatever you do, just keep ahold of my hand!" and led her through a snazzy West Coast Swing while the band played a Twist.

There was restrained applause when our 90 seconds of pure torture was over, and I was never more relieved to shrink into the shadows then when he announced Couple Number Two. They were a 60-something couple from Japan who did the Twist perfectly. After seeing what they did, I thought "Ooooh, I could have done that!" I just didn't know. The Japanese couple won the contest (and finished with an impressive flourish). A few kind-hearted souls approached us afterwards and said "I would have voted for you, but... you just didn't dance the Twist!" No kidding.

Happy to have that awkward moment behind us, I am quite content now to be up on the deck, viewing spectacular Tracy Arm. The four of us (plus Charity) have been chatting about this and that, pointing out interesting features in the scenery, sharing stories and memories, and laughing together in an idyllic way. It occurs to me that this is what the ultimate goal of family is all about; moments like these, where Father, Mother, Son, and Daughter are all together, sharing life as friends and peers, bound together in common love. Eternity was made for an unending stream of moments like this.

* * *

Suddenly the voice of our fearless naturalist bursts over the PA system, this time announcing a contest. After a brief quote by Shakespeare, he said, "I'm sure... that like me... you are all duly inspired... by the grandeur of magnificent Tracy Arm... So I'd like you... to write a Haiku... about our morning in Tracy Arm... and I'll award prizes to the best ones..."

And we were duly inspired. We all brainstormed for the best combination of quotes from William Shatner, William Shakespear, and our naturalist. Dad thought up several impressive entries along this line, such as:

Into Tracy Arm
Where no man has gone before
saith William S.

But perhaps the family favorite was this one that yours truly composed, as if inspired by Nature herself:

Ravenous eagle
Ingests blood-red afterbirth.
You want my sausage?

This triggered a whole new generation of gross Haikus, each of them eliciting giggles until the whole conversation had erupted into laughter. For several days following, Dad and I delighted in composing a Haiku consisting of some disgusting description in twelve syllables and ending with the line "You want my sausage?" We are all quite certain that if we had stopped laughing long enough to actually turn in our favorite Haiku contest entry, that it would have won. It certainly captured our experience in Tracy Arm, as narrated by our fearless naturalist.

* * *

As the fjord narrowed, we approached the bay where the water bumped up against the largest of the glaciers--a huge wall of crumbling ice that dwarfed our ship. The water around us now had much larger and more interesting icebergs floating in it, each pocked with holes, and criss-crossed with cracks, of a deep, vibrant glacial blue. We spent a long time on deck pointing out different icebergs and the bizzarre shapes and textures they had. Ever wonder why glacial ice is blue? As a helpful display at the Mendenhal Glacier informed us, "It is because all the other colors of light are absorbed by the ice and only the blue light is reflected back." Oh, really? Thanks so much for clearing that up.

It was here also that the true skill of our captain was evident, as he stopped the boat and did a complete 180-degree turn in place. There wasn't much room for error; it seemed like the bow and stern of the boat might each scrape the cliffs as we pivoted. Ice was sucked into the swirling vortexes left behind, and pulverized underneath our ship with great, shivering groans. And then we were off, at a little greater speed, towards the opening of the fjord and our next destination.

All too soon our adventure in Tracy Arm was behind us, transformed in an instant from present to memory. But what a pleasant present it was, and what sunny memories they are! Celebrating life's good days is a key to living happily, and our days aboard the Golden Princess, and particularly our morning in Tracy Arm, were some of the best we've had.

As we face an unknown future regarding Dad's cancer, there will be both bad days and good. The only certain thing is that the trials and pains of mortality will eventually pass away and we will be left with only our memories of these times. I hope that when that time comes, my wife and I, my parents, and the rest of us will be able to see that we have not let life wear us down, but that we "tipped the balance" in our favor by focusing on and appreciating the good days. With that kind of attitude, I'm sure that our best days together are yet ahead.

Wife Rule #121: The Unblemished Truth

2009-11-01T20:20:00.000-08:00

What do you call it when my wife
(1) gets all the kids ready for church because I am at early-morning meetings
(2) takes the tired, ornery baby during the last hour of church so I can be free to attend to my church responsibilities unimpeded,
(3) lets me attend choir practice, while she instead spends the hours right after church making her famous homemade rolls for our family dinner,
(4) makes a batch of cookies in addition,
(5) lets me--in fact, encourages me--to take a nap after choir practice, before heading out to the dinner,
(6) while gathered with the family, during a special moment of quiet reflection and solemnity involving my father with cancer, basically takes herself out of the picture by removing of all the noisy little kids, so the rest of the adults can enjoy the moment,
(7) is willing to take the kids home and put them to bed while I linger just a little longer with Mom and Dad on this special night,
(8) does a hundred more things that I probably fail to take notice of?

I don't know.

But whatever you call it, I certainly don't deserve it. I often really don't deserve her at all. And that's the unblemished truth.

Wife Rule #120: It's Nice to Share

2009-10-29T20:39:00.000-07:00

It's one of those lessons you learn in kindergarten. It makes snack time go so much more smoothly. It makes your mom happy because there's less fighting in the home. It helps people to like you. It even helps you win friends and influence people (just ask the lobbyists).

It's nice to share!

And tonight is one of those nights where the niceness of sharing is on the top of my mind, because I just got back from a very uplifting meeting and I'm floating a little. It's nice to come home in such a mood and grab the hand of my sweetheart and lift her up onto the cloud with me. The view is great up here tonight.

On the other end of the spectrum, we've recently had some more bad news with regard to my dad's cancer. It's nice to have someone to share that with, too. Her shoulders and neck are just the right height that when such tidings sort of drain the life right out of us, we can lean against each other and our heads kind of fit together. We can help to hold each other up when we share the downs.

And when we sat together Monday night with our little flock of five kids and watched Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone for the first time together (we recently finished the book), and little 1-year-old Charity decided that instead of watching the movie, she would dance and twirl and look over her shoulder and shrug and flirt a lot, we shared a giggle, and then we shared a laugh.

Sometimes after the kids have gone to bed, and we have diligently denied them dessert (because good parents have to do that sometimes), we share an indulgence of a dish of ice cream. Often when we share this way, we have to get seconds. But we share those too.

And last of all, before (and often after) we turn off the lamps in our bedroom, we share a final wrap-up conversation for the day. It's often the first chance we've really had to talk when the rest of the house is shrouded in silence. It's a great time to decompress, to discuss our kids, our parents, our siblings, our neighbors, and certainly not least, our marriage. We analyze, we plan, and sometimes we share a dream, just a little bit.

It doesn't matter so much what we are sharing; the important part is that we are sharing, at least a little bit, every day. We're both so much richer for it.

You can take that to the bank.

Wife Rule #119: Shoot for the Stars

2009-10-19T19:36:00.000-07:00

She loves me, and that opens up a universe of opportunity.

We recently got back from three days--three marvelous days--of "roughing it" in the form of camping, cooking, and hiking in the wild, at Arches National Park.

Arches National Park isn't just any dumb old national park, either. It is a technicolor wonderland of sculpted red rock fins and canyons, hidden surprises and treasures, astonishing life eking out an existence under impossible circumstances, and electric blue skies so intense that they could literally cause your brain to blow a fuse if you stare heavenward too long.

And for me, it's absolutely dripping with nostalgia. Arches is a large part of the magic stuff of my childhood memories. It is where Dad used to drive us after he got off work, arriving late into the night when all we could make out were the strange silhouettes of the red rock formations against a backdrop of starry sky. It is where we once got lost in the maze called the Fiery Furnace and had to "escape" by lowering ourselves down cliffs and landing in secret arches in the sandstone fins. It is where I caught my severe case of desert fever, which still tends to flare up every spring and fall. It is where I first learned to love camping and hiking. It is where I concentrate my current efforts to brainwash my children into loving camping and hiking.

And it's working.

My younger sister, her husband, and her toddler accompanied us on this trip. At one point, as she struggled with her very energetic little boy, she pondered the work required for us to lug our family of seven (five children, ages 9 to 1) out here in the sand and rock, and asked my wife, "Why do you keep doing this?"

"If only you knew how much Matt loves this, you would understand," was my wife's simple reply.

Because she loves me.

And I love her, too. I also do inconvenient things to accommodate her needs and wants. We sometimes "go to Arches" for her, in her own way. We have agreed to do this stuff, together. It's just part of the package.

One of my favorite moments this trip was late the second night, after my wife had taken the younger three children to bed in the furnace-equipped trailer (it gets cold in the desert at night). I was sitting with my two older daughters by the last glowing embers of the fire, enjoying the silence and the stars before heading off to our tent. There was no moon during the duration of our trip, which opened the starry heavens above us in a glorious fashion. I can't remember ever seeing the Milky Way so clearly and distinctly before; we could make out individual shapes and features in the visible arm of our galaxy and discuss them together. We saw a number of shooting stars and spent a long while staring upward, relishing in the sights that are only available away from civilization.

I took the opportunity to tell my two daughters of the covenants the Lord made to Abraham and Sarah, that their posterity would be "as the stars of the heaven" (Genesis 22:17). After all, when the Lord made those promises to Abraham, he was most likely sitting under a starry sky much like this one, undiluted by city lights, in the stillness of the desert.

The stars of the heaven: mere billions is a drop in the bucket. The expanse of God's creations, as evidenced by the swirling clouds of light visible tonight, far exceeds the scope of what our minds are capable of comprehending.

This is what He promised to Abraham and his wife. This is what a husband and wife, joined together by God's power, are capable of. Consider the alternatives, I told my young daughters: an eternity of solitude, unattached to loved ones, or a family as great as the stars in the heavens.

My wife and I, after all, love each other. The small choices, like trips to Arches, are evidence enough of that. We're shooting for the stars.

Wife Rule #118: Just Had to Share

2009-09-30T11:33:00.000-07:00

As you recall,
I didn't sleep well last night
because of the rain blowing in.
It's the first storm of autumn,
bringing a sudden, delicious drop in temperature
and promising a scintillating smorgasbord for the senses,
just around the corner:
eye-popping color-candy in the boughs of the trees,
the pleasant crunch of leaves underfoot,
the earthy smell of decay in the air,
and the harvest of all the year's promise,
culminating in a cornucopia of holiday tradition.

What's not to love?

As I rounded a bend
in the rain-slick road on my way into work,
the curtain of moody, slate sky parted momentarily,
revealing twelve-thousand-foot Timponogos
adorned like a bride,
with virgin snow atop
and delicate patterns of frost
extending to where the foothills were shrouded
beneath a soft bank of low-lying mist.
Underneath this veil
the mountain still blushed with the crab-apple hues
of a fleeting autumn that will fade much faster
than it will here, in the valley.

After only a moment the curtain closed,
dousing the brief, fiery spotlight
that shone with such vigor on the scene
and dissolving the view once again
into a uniform pattern of wet road and milky sky.

It may all be gone tomorrow,
and I didn't have a camera.
But still, I just had to share.
So, my Love, there you go.

Wife Rule #117: The Price of Love

2009-09-22T21:50:00.000-07:00

Life can certainly throw some interesting curve-balls. There are times when part of the learning that takes place here in mortality involves accepting things that are not at all pleasant to think about; things that would seem to be much better left ignored or buried; ugly things, not of your own choosing, that leave you feeling dirty for them merely having passed through your brain.

Some of these things are so earth-shattering that they momentarily suspend your current view of reality. This can happen with such abruptness that it feels as if you are experiencing one of those moments in a movie where from the protagonist's point of view, everyone and everything suddenly freezes: the person walking in mid-step; the bird in mid-flight; the falling fountain water in mid-air, turning to solid, hovering orbs of crystal. Even molecular motion is suspended and with it, all sense of warmth evaporates. You are left alone with your thoughts, to struggle to make sense of the world around you. Such physics-defying times tend to alter your perceptions of reality, rewriting history and turning your well-set tables upside down.

This of course is disconcerting in its mildest instances, and devastating in its worse forms. You suddenly find yourself questioning everything and everyone and wondering what you can truly count on. You realize that certain assumptions you have harbored for years may have been false. You cease to take anything for granted; everything is suddenly back on the table. You find yourself grasping out into the coldness of space for something--anything--solid to cling to. You feel very vulnerable and very, very small, in a big, wide, unfeeling world that continues mercilessly on without you. You realize that it is not the world that is paralyzed, but you.

And then you latch onto something solid.

For there is truth in this world of ambiguity. There is a source of light, and warmth, and knowledge that permeates the cold emptiness of space with a life-giving sustenance that makes these times endurable. There is a God in heaven, who understands everything we encounter here, for He has been here! He condescended with the express purpose of gathering His own infinite store of such experiences, so that His balm might be perfectly suited to our hours of greatest need. He knows us, for He created us. He is the one who uttered eternal laws into existence, and those laws provide a solid framework upon which rests the universe. There is a cosmic order in the apparent chaos that surrounds us.

He has not left us alone. No matter how deep the hurt, or how tragic the fall, or how bewildering the pain, or how blinding the confusion, there are agents here to help us. There are those who care for us, who pray for us, who are anxious to bless us as His hands on earth.

And even in the times when we truly are alone, He is there personally to nurture us with the Comforter, wrapping us in a warm, hand-made quilt of sufficient scope to completely cover our needs.

I have been blessed with an abundance of such heavenly help. Parents, brothers, sisters, friends, and neighbors all tend to my comfort. And my closest, most personal ministering angel is a thirty-something woman of towering strength. She supports me with a bulwark of faith, hope, and love that lends such buoyancy to my sometimes heavy-laden shoulders, that I know I will never fall with her to back me up. Such is the nature of my companion, whose faithfulness and love stretches into the distant horizon, as apparently infinite as our Savior's love, the source from whence it sprang.

It is Life--with its curve-balls and earth-shattering moments--that proves such love, wringing it out of us, forcing it to flee from the abstract theoretical sphere into the solid realm of real experience. And that, in the end, is a gift worth paying for, even if the price at times seems very high.

Wife Rule #116: I Kid You Not

2009-09-18T18:35:00.000-07:00

"I was looking at Dawn today, and I noticed that she has absolutely beautiful eyes," my wife gushed to me recently. "I always knew that Dawn has my eyes," she continued. That's true. People have been telling my wife that so often since Dawn's birth that there was no room for disputing that fact. And then she reached her conclusion: "That means that my eyes are beautiful too!"

No kidding.

How many hundreds of times have I told her that over the last fourteen years? Hasn't she noticed how many times I find myself staring shamelessly into her wide, innocent, eyes? Doesn't she know that looking into her eyes is like being immersed in the deep blue expanse of the sea? Like gazing into the light-filled heavens on a moonless night? Like being warmed by candlelight in winter? Like the visions of color created by sunlight streaming through stained glass cathedral windows? Like being captured and held frozen by such breathtaking beauty that you are rendered utterly helpless? Like beholding incarnate kindness and unbounded grace? Like glimpsing the very wonder of eternity?

Yes, dear. Your eyes.

Duh.

Wife Rule #115: Find the One

2009-08-30T21:14:00.000-07:00

Some of the most powerful learning moments in life come from experiences my wife and I share together. As background, consider what the Savior taught in Luke 15:

4 What man of you, having an hundred sheep, if he lose one of them, doth not leave the ninety and nine in the wilderness, and go after that which is lost, until he find it?
5 And when he hath found it, he layeth it on his shoulders, rejoicing.
6 And when he cometh home, he calleth together his friends and neighbours, saying unto them, Rejoice with me; for I have found my sheep which was lost.
7 I say unto you, that likewise joy shall be in heaven over one sinner that repenteth....

I have had faith in Jesus Christ since I young. This faith has only grown stronger as life's experiences have worked their lessons on me. I have never considered myself to be one of the "lost sheep." Sure, I'm a sinner, but I have always known the way back; my sins have been out of weakness or pride, not out of ignorance. But last weekend I gained a little bit of insight into how grateful a truly "lost sheep" can be for those who find it and bring it home.

We were in Idaho, to celebrate my wife's sister's wedding with our family. On the morning of the wedding, we were to leave from where we were staying in Idaho Falls about an hour before the wedding, to travel to the Rexburg temple, where the wedding would take place. We both thought we knew the way, having traveled through Rexburg a couple of times in past years. I knew that when we got to the highway, we turned right and drove until we got to Rexburg. What we didn’t realize is that there was more than one possible road to travel.

As we set out, we made the mistake of turning right on the first highway we encountered. We were running just a little behind, and I was driving as fast as I dared. We tried to distract our restless kids by pointing out the beautiful scenery around us: rolling fields of golden hay with forested mountains on either side of the valley. I was a little puzzled when I recognized the Snake River running parallel to the highway, and I wondered why we hadn’t seen any mileage signs for Rexburg yet, but it wasn’t until the road started turning and descended towards the river that I realized--to my horror--that we were on the wrong road.

After verifying our error at a little tourist shop, my wife burst into tears. The wedding was starting in fifteen minutes and we were now thirty minutes out of Idaho Falls, in the wrong direction. We turned around and started back, going faster than ever, but we really didn’t know where we had gone wrong or how to get on the right road. We desperately tried calling my wife's siblings, but we could not hear anything on our cell phone. After several failed attempts to call for help, we realized our phone had been put into headphones mode, probably through random button-pushing by little Charity. We didn’t know how to fix it. We were stuck. It was now 11:00, time for the wedding, and we were still lost. My wife broke into fresh tears.

Then, as an answer to our silent prayers, the phone rang. She tried to answer it, but again, no sound. Then she remembered that there was a speaker phone feature, and by using that, we were able to finally hear the sweet sound of a concerned brother’s voice, calling to find out why we were not with the rest of the family. We knew we were hopelessly too late, since the sealer performing the wedding, the photographer, the luncheon, and the reception all hinged on a tight schedule for the day. Still, we felt a great deal of comfort knowing that the family was aware of our predicament. She told her brother where we were, that we were probably still 45 minutes away from Rexburg, and that they should go on without us and we would eventually find our way there. After heartfelt “I love you’s” from both ends of the phone, she hung up.

Ten minutes later, as we were approaching Idaho Falls, the phone rang again. It was another brother, one who knew the roads, who understood where we had gone wrong, and who was able to give us detailed directions to get us onto the right highway. His step-by-step instructions probably prevented us from getting lost again, we were so frazzled and disoriented by this point. Again, already ten minutes after the wedding start time, my wife asked them to go on without us.

We finally made it onto the correct highway and saw the road signs confirming this. We were about fifteen minutes out of Rexburg when the phone rang again. It was a brother again, checking up on our progress and making sure we knew which exit to take. My wife broke into tears again, and then on the phone came the voice of the sweet, old temple president. He wanted to assure us personally that they would wait to begin until we arrived.

When we got to the temple, all the workers were waiting for us. They ushered our kids into the waiting area and a worker had us run up the back stairway, since that would be faster than the elevator. When we reached the third floor, panting, my wife's sister and her fiance were there, waiting for us with a smile. They embraced their lost sister and brother in a big hug and told us that how glad they were that we had made it and that they never would have gone on without us.

In all, close to “ninety and nine” people waited for almost an hour for us at the temple. The rest of the day we had both old and new family members telling us how glad they were that we made it. This was sometimes mixed with some good-natured ribbing (I got a new nickname: "Tom-Tom"), but never in a resentful way. There was no passing judgment, no rebuke. Our desperation and embarrassment at having been the “lost sheep” gradually melted away to feelings of gratitude and love for those who reached out to us and waited for us, and that in the end, the whole family was together in the temple. We were whole.

My wife and I have talked about this experience a lot over the last week. There are many good analogies that can be drawn from it, but one stands out to us. Every person on earth is a child of God and thus, we are all one big family. God wants nothing more than to gather the whole family together, for eternity. We know that not everyone wants to follow the Savior, but there are many--millions or perhaps even billions--who would gladly gather together with the believers if only there was someone to reach out and show them the way--to gather home the lost sheep. And we need not get overwhelmed by the magnitude of the task--all it takes is finding those who want to be found, one by one.

Find the one.

(I told this story as part of a talk I gave in our church services today. You can read the full text here.)

Wife Rule #114: Get Out

2009-08-16T14:41:00.000-07:00

If there’s one thing my wife and I are pretty good at, it’s getting out. I am never one of those guys who is in danger of losing his time off at work because it went unused. We tend to pack our schedule so full of dates, family events, and social events that we are often booked several months out. Though it makes life a little hectic from time to time, it’s a lovely problem to have.

It’s been this way for years. When we were first courting, we never had a problem of getting stuck in a rut because all we knew how to do was “hang out.” When we went out, we went out—on real, premeditated, planned dates. We have continued this tradition with varying degrees of success since our marriage, but for the last several years we have been pretty good about going out together on weekly dates. I look forward to this time alone with my sweetheart all week long. I am convinced that this one-on-one time together has paid huge dividends in our marriage.

However, the times out I probably anticipate most are our vacations. We do a lot of camping and hiking trips with our kids and we have started a tradition of doing an extended family reunion trip. But the vacation that really defines summer—the one that the season would feel incomplete without—is our annual trip to Newport Beach, California.

My wife’s grandpa has a little beach cottage on 33rd Street, and he graciously moves into the upstairs apartment every summer so that his children and grandchildren can use the main house for a week at a time. We have been to Newport Beach every summer that we could since our marriage, only missing the years when we had summer babies and the one year that I was too sick to travel.

Rather than writing up the same old boring journal entries that I always do, this year I decided to compose a poem for every day of our trip to Newport Beach. From the overnight drive south through the arid desert, to celebrating snapshots of some of our favorite things to do while we are here, I tried to capture the essence of our family vacations to Newport Beach in their current form: two parents, five kids, a jam-packed mini-van, plenty of chaos, and memories in the making.

Oh, and because I generally wanted to keep these on the nostalgic positive side (minus the poem for day two-point-five), I completely skipped writing anything about the fourteen-hour drive home. Especially the part where our car started overheating and we turned off the air conditioner while we were at a dead stop for 30 minutes because of the accident, 80 miles out of Las Vegas, in 100-degree heat.

Joshua Tree
(day one)

In the pale, last light
The eccentric silhouette of a Joshua Tree
Rises from the Martian landscape
It’s the first one we’ve seen

The sun sets
The interstate sinks into St. George
The temperature rises

We check in and change
It's late
And we leave early tomorrow
And it's a bit of a hassle
But still, we make time

Bare feet skitter across warm, dark pavement
And tuck themselves neatly underneath
Cannonballs in the dark

The crickets gain momentum
And we wrap up the happy din
In white, warm towels

Bed awaits
Night falls in the desert
It is ripe with anticipation

Sandpaper
(day two)

“Are we in California yet?”
No, we still have two states to go
The harsh sun cooks us through tinted windows
Shouldn’t we be farther along than this?

I accelerate
The rubber and tar would surely fuse in this heat
Were it not for the force pushing us forward

Seven bodies descend on the restroom
I’m feeling a little sheepish
Is a two-gallon fill-up enough
To compensate for such swarming?
Although I topped it off
We were nearly full when we pulled in
That’s the problem isn’t it?

What? You have to go again?
No problem
Just hold it ‘till the next town
We’ll be there in an hour

We sit down to another meal
Of gross, greasy food
Merely fuel
We might as well let the kids go down the slide one more time
The booster seat is still drying on top of the car

After three DVD’s
The system stops working
A vital component is no longer functioning:
The listeners

At last we arrive

Rolling down the windows we soak our lungs in humidity
The car is emptied at the beach house with astonishing speed
Clothes are cast aside and damp swimsuits donned

We bound for the beach
An undulating sea of glittering diamonds spreads before us
The afternoon sun stings our eyes
It’s always colder than I remember
But no matter—we dive right in
The refreshing current surrounds us
And the churning sand beneath our toes
Seems to smooth over the entire day

Lamppost
(day two-point-five)

A loud shriek and a pop
A chorus cheering approval
Rattled, I sit up and part the blinds
The yellow circle under the lamppost
Reveals a small horde of swooning men
Attacking a beach ball
With delighted venom

Typical Friday-night revelry
(Last night for the renters)
Freshly-emptied bottles litter the gutter
Where they will still lie tomorrow
Technically, it has been tomorrow for two hours already

Last year they vanquished a young child’s bike,
Riding it repeatedly over the curb and into the lamppost
Only fragments remained

Poor beach ball
At least they left the lamppost out of it

Jetty
(day three)

We pick our way through
The ruler-straight line
Of jumbled briquette boulders
Jutting into the blue

Golden light gleams from micro pools
Replenished by the breaking surf around us
The roar of a thousand lions
Echoes in our ears

Suspicious crabs creep underfoot
An underhanded wave geysers through the gaps
There is rumbling from depths unseen

Near the end we stop
Our attention tracks the roiling surges
Rolling in succession
Unharnessed energy

We crouch, frozen, and count:
Three
Two
ONE!
Springing, arms extended
Willing the water to explode
With deafening force at the edge of the jetty

It obeys

My young son smiles
With a backdrop of falling foam
His excited eyes connect with mine
And he utters a single word:
Fireworks!

Jellyfish
(day four)

Tradition dictates that Sunday afternoon
Takes us across the peninsula
To the harbor

We circle the seaside restaurants and yachts
On the warped, burnt boardwalks
Public easements in an alien world

I cringe
As five pairs of young hands intermittently grasp
Rough-cut handrails peppered with grime
But they must
It’s the only way to get a view

Colonies of jellyfish
Perform their tie-dye dance
White on black
Translucent yin and yang

Two surfers glide in
Cutting the smooth water with Polynesian paddles
The jellies won’t mind
It’s a no-wake zone
And their lazy, random motions
Suggest they are still asleep

Balboa
(day five)

A five-point parallel parking job
(Only twenty-one inches to spare,
Bumper to bumper)
Just part of life on the peninsula
Where land is premium
With only a few hundred yards
From shore to shore

We crowd the benches of the ferry
Arms length from SUV's
Exactly three will fit
We watch
Yachts with bleached canvas sails
Glide silently through the channel
Graceful ghosts in the twilight

Strolling the island
Past whitewashed gates to private piers
A curving series of proud poles
Fly stars and stripes above
Mansions,
Both the docked and landlocked kind
And millionaire dreams are allowed
To flirt with us
Just for a few moments

The ferry returns
Beneath the Ferris wheel,
A circular structure of old painted wood and clear incandescent bulbs
With neon highlights
As we rise and crest its summit
The lighted angles of the pavilion,
The lamp-lit land,
And the black sea spread before us

We descend with a thrill
Cool air rushes past our ears
We shudder
And repeat
And shudder again
Then cap off the night with frozen bananas

Frisbee
(day six)

The western faces of the dunes
Glow orange in the setting sun
Blue and purple shadows grow behind them,
Yawning eastward
A cataclysmic shaking and rumbling
Followed by pulverizing pounding
As a great bare foot, larger than the mightiest of the monoliths,
Crashes down,
Creating a virgin valley surrounded by a new ring of upheaval
This peculiar geography stretches all the way to the Pacific Ocean
And opposite, to the sidewalk

It is evening at the beach

I watch my wife whip Frisbees back and forth
With three of our children
Twisting, spinning,
She churns them out in a wagon wheel pattern
To the surprise and delight of her progeny
Who, though synchronizing their attacks,
Fail to overwhelm her
I love her ninja powers

My younger two daughters pose for pictures
On their backs
Their mouths ring with laughter
Their heads and freshly-washed hair
Are half-buried in the cool sand

Photos of these precious times burst
With dramatic color
And smiles
And merry memory

Morning Walk
(day seven)

Bare feet
Pajama clad bodies
Buckets in hand
We tread across the packed, wet sand,
Eyes diligently scanning
For Treasure

Cool mist permeates the atmosphere
Beneath a heavy, slate sky
Seal-black surfers
And hunting gulls
Holler at no one in particular:
Soft, white noise
Filtered by the encroaching tide

My youngest, still word-shy, gestures downward
I lower her outstretched little limb
Until she grasps a shiny, oddly-shaped shell fragment
And a handful of soggy sand

She drops it all in the bucket
To keep
Forever

She reaches for another
Just then
A rush of warm, white foam
Kisses her extended hand
It leaves as quickly as it came
But provides enough surprise
To elicit a crinkle-nosed smile
So wide
It extends beyond the boundaries
Of her favorite pink binkie

The man with the metal detector approaches
Scanning the sand for treasures of his own

I’ve already got mine

Afternoon
(day eight)

Drops of seawater evaporate
Cooling my skin
The towel and soft sand warm from beneath
The sun bears down from above
And a briny breeze carries the excess,
Along with my thoughts,
Away

Drifting,
I enjoy a half-conscious sensory experience
With the rhythmic roar of the surf,
The cries of the gulls,
And the delighted shrieks of my children in my head
I doze intermittently

It’s been nearly a week
Since I’ve worn a watch

Wife Rule #113: Appreciate the Miracles

2009-07-28T21:46:00.000-07:00

Miracles are funny things. They can serve as powerful witnesses of unseen truths to believing, recognizing eyes. They are also so easily passed over when we are too selfish to discern them, too spoiled and entitled to appreciate them, or just too busy to notice them.

My wife works miracles on a daily basis, and I have noticed recently. We have been extremely busy lately, perhaps so much that instead of taking the miracles she produces for granted, my normally unobservant mind actually crossed a stress threshold where it became plainly obvious that without her miracles, our family would be drowning in a whirlpool of self-imposed chaos.

There was the miracle of the Ice Cream Social, where she exercised the gift of vision to see past the blaring shortcomings of the meager accommodations of space and shade that our front yard offers on a hot Sunday afternoon. As a result, we scooped through nearly twenty quarts of sticky-sweet ice cream to nearly a hundred and fifty happy, chatting guests. Somehow, the space and shade were adequate for the crowd. Even our collapsible canopy miraculously stretched enough to cover perhaps sixty souls as a fierce July Thunderstorm pelted us with hail-size raindrops for five minutes.

Two days later there was the miracle of love and friendship when my wife and the woman across the street realized that one of our favorite neighbor families was moving and had not been formally bid farewell. Despite having just hosted the Ice Cream Social, my wife insisted that we send them off properly. So the same small space of grass and shade miraculously filled again with a hundred and fifty hungry guests, and potluck food appeared as if out of thin air. The entire event was perceived accurately by our departing neighbors as the act of love that it was.

The next week there was the the family reunion, where my wife spent hours spearheading a gathering of five couples and ten children at her childhood home. She had help from other miracle workers who organized menus and prepared food, but the way that five days of meals and nearly non-stop activities proceeded flawlessly can be considered nothing short of miraculous, and a majority of it rode on her shoulders. While I desperately tried to concentrate on the one task of tying up loose ends at work in preparation for the time off, my wife worked her magic. By applying her organizational talents, she caused reservations for Wave Runners on the lake to materialize; food to organize itself, packed in boxes and coolers; laundry to be cleaned and folded and grouped into matching outfits; bags to packed; sleeping arrangements to be finalized; and a detailed agenda to be created with optimal plans to play on the beach, tour the cave, hike to the lake, picnic, play games, and see the town.

After returning yesterday, while I concentrated on the singular task of catching back up at work, miraculously the bags got unpacked, the laundry got done, the dishes got cleaned, and the house returned to a state of order. She somehow did all this while simultaneously setting her able hands to preparing another spectacularly successful birthday party tonight, which included a special, made-to-order birthday meal, including time-consuming homemade rolls; a fancy, multi-layered rainbow cake; long-anticipated, perfect presents; seven additional family guests; and one elated little eight-year-old girl.

And there is more to come.

Thursday there will be a birthday party with friends for this same eight-year-old girl, followed by all the preparations necessary to get our family of five children ready for a summer company party at the local water park. Friday is our almost-six-year-old son's birthday, whose wish list is still being finalized and whose party will involve guests again. Saturday our eight-year-old will be baptized, and we will be hosting family guests for lunch afterwards.

Next week, my wife will bear the brunt of making the preparations for our annual trip to the beach. Then a few days after we get back she will be packing our family up to leave home again so that we can all attend her sister's wedding. A few days after that, our children will begin school, wearing new clothes and with all the needful supplies in hand.

The preparations for all of these important events will take place. All the food will be bought and prepared and presented tastefully; all the presents will materialize, wrapped in brightly-colored paper with artful bows; all the complex nuances of the scheduling will be figured out; all the packing and unpacking and washing and drying and putting away and getting out will occur flawlessly. All this will happen without letting the house or our sanity deteriorate into utter chaos, despite having five children whose self-appointed missions sometimes seem to involve that specific end.

It will all happen. It always does. I will do my best to contribute as much as possible, but we both know that it is really my wife that makes it so. I know she often feels like she is winging it; that the odds are stacked hopelessly against her; that our household teeters on the edge of a steep and swiftly-eroding cliff. But somehow or other, she always manages to pull it off. She applies her mind, her heart, and her able hands. Through sheer grit and genius and the immense talents she possesses, she accomplishes what I could never do without her.

She works miracles.

Wife Rule #112: All Is Well

2009-07-12T22:38:00.000-07:00

At two o'clock in the morning I awoke from a dreamless sleep. As my bleary eyes scanned the room, I regained my bearings by identifying outlines of familiar objects in the ambient night light. The closet. The dresser. The door to the darkened hallway, which was still ajar. Yes, I was at home in my own bed, but something wasn't right. I rolled over and sure enough, the other half of the bed was still empty.

I remembered why I felt so anxious. My wife and baby were gone. She had left in a rush about three hours ago, cradling an exhausted, limp child in her arms. Charity had barely been breathing when they left, each slight rise and fall of her tiny chest achieved through wheezing exertion, as if the air flowing in and out were being pumped through a viscous fluid.

My wife took her to the emergency room where Charity was treated with a steroid injection to aid her breathing. They needed to watch her for several hours to see that she was improving before sending her back home. This was the treatment my brother, a physician, had predicted they would give her when he urged us to take her to the emergency room.

When I called him, I had explained that the usual remedies for croup we had used on our other kids weren't working. The humidifier had already been on in her room, and since it was July there was no cool night air to breath in. He agreed that this wasn't something we should handle at home. "Croup can be very serious when infants are involved," he informed us. "This can't wait. You need to get her to the hospital."

Since I had early morning meetings the next day, my wife had volunteered to go, allowing me to stay home with the other four sleeping children. An hour later, at about midnight, she called to let me know what was going on and encouraged me to try to sleep. How was I supposed to do that? Even though Charity was now in the best hands available, my wife sounded anxious. And she is not one to worry unless the worry is merited.

So I wasted some time online, and at last resorted to late night reading until my eyes started to get heavy. I knelt by our bedside for the final time that night at about one o'clock, and asked the Lord to please bless my tiny daughter. Then I climbed under the covers and drifted off into a fitful sleep.

Now, laying on my back in the dark, I could hear Scott wheezing from his bedroom. His breathing problems are minor compared to the frightening, barking frenzy that Charity was in as she had struggled to take in enough air. I exhaled loudly, uttered another silent, semi-desperate prayer, and curled up into my pillow, hoping that the next time I awoke my wife and child would be back here beside me.

My eyes jerked open again. I glanced at the glowing digital clock on the bedside table. It was just after three o'clock. The other half of the bed was still empty.

Charity had awoken right as we were getting ready to call it a night. I heard her crying, but I was trying to finish reading a very important paragraph or something and so it was my wife who had gone into Charity's room to check on her.

When she opened the door, her cries sounded awful, a painful whimpering mixed with sharp barking. We had heard that kind of sound before when our children have had croup, like a baby seal crying. What I failed to notice for a full minute or so, until my wife pointed it out, was that these noises were not created by forced expulsion of air while coughing, as had been the case with our other kids. This barking occurred each time Charity attempted to inhale, which seemed to elevate the problem to a whole different level. And rather than being all worked up, as I had first supposed, Charity seemed strangely incoherent for someone who was struggling so hard to breathe.

My wife and I both fell into semi-panic at the same time. My first reaction was to anoint her with oil, lay my hands on her head, and pronounce a prayer of healing on her, as directed in James 5:14-15:

Is any sick among you? let him call for the elders of the church; and let them pray over him, anointing him with oil in the name of the Lord: And the prayer of faith shall save the sick, and the Lord shall raise him up....

The words that came into my mind as I anointed and prayed over her were more direct than usual, and spilled forth more like commands than requests, ordering her throat and lungs to open up and allow air in. Within thirty seconds of finishing this blessing her breathing had relaxed, the barking had quieted to a softer wheezing, and she had opened her eyes and seemed more alert. We felt that the Lord had granted her safe passage through the immediate crisis, but it was now time to make use of the medical knowledge He had made available. So we had called my brother, and following his advice my wife had taken her to the emergency room.

As I laid in bed and recalled the almost immediate improvement in her condition after anointing and praying for her, the peaceful feelings I had felt at the time returned. My heart surged with gratitude to be privileged to bless my wife and children through the power of the Lord's priesthood, which He has distributed to believing fathers in His latter-day Church, that we might use His power to bless our families in His name.

She's going to be okay, I told myself as I lay in the dark, alone in my thoughts. And I realized that I believed it.

I woke again at four o'clock to the sounds of the door to the garage closing. I heard my wife lay Charity gently in her crib and then join me in the bedroom.

"How is she?" I asked her softly.

"She's doing much better," my wife replied. "The steroid treatments seem to be working and she can breathe again."

"Thank you, honey. Thanks for taking her in. Thanks for staying with her. I'm glad you're back home."

"Me too. Good night."

"Good night."

I closed my eyes for the last short stretch of sleep before the start of another demanding day. I felt whole again. Charity was breathing quietly in the nursery. My wife was next to me, her comforting presence quieting my mind. There was warmth and peace in my heart as I uttered a brief, silent prayer of thanks for the miracles that delivered my family safely back to me: miracles wrought through a combination of faith and prayer and revealed science, and applied by those who so ably administered to my daughter in the middle of the night.

The last thought I recall running through my mind before drifting off were these words: All is well, all is well.

Wife Rule #111: We are Forever

2009-07-04T22:47:00.000-07:00

My wife and I recently spent some time together in one of the beautiful temples that our church builds as special places of worship. We hold these buildings sacred, as dedicated houses of the Lord. When we visit them, we come as His guests, seeking to gain communion with Him and learn His will for us. We try to attend the temple together on a regular basis, and we are always rewarded for our efforts.

One of the most worthwhile effects of worshipping in the temple for me is the way that it seems to elevate my thoughts above the transitory, earthy subjects that so often capture my attention. For a few precious hours, my mind is lifted up out of the world, to contemplate things of a much more lasting, permanent import. I am reminded that not only is there a God in heaven, but that He has a plan for us as His children. I am also reminded of the very prominent role my wife plays in God's plan for me.

This most recent evening as we sat in the temple, I found myself quietly thinking about the sheer immensity of God's creations, both in space and time. I contemplated the sobering reality of the never-ending future I will have, in which I will undoubtedly have occasion to think about the choices I make today that are shaping that future. Then I thought of my wife, and the fingers of my right hand found themselves tracing the shape of my wedding band on the ring finger of my left hand. Around and around they went, in a circular pattern that had no natural end. I recalled the words my wife had engraved on the inside of the band:

Together Forever

With such limited space available, it is somewhat amazing to me that such a profound message could be encapsulated in a six-syllable sermon on the inside of my wedding ring. Forever: a word that describes the indescribable. Is it really possible for two people so wholly in love with each other to continue on, like fingers tracing the outline of a circular ring, without an end to their union?

When my wife gave me that band, she gave it as a visible token of the eternal commitment she was making to bind herself to me. The ring I gave her was given with the same intent. And since the day we exchanged rings, we have each tried to live those commitments with our whole hearts, the never-ending circle of our union continuing in an eternal round, but expanding in scope as we grow in our capacities and commitment to each other.

The births of our children have each served as catalysts for sudden expansions of the circumference of our circle. You might think that adding these little souls to our family would cause the circle to change shape, to sprout new starting points of other paths leading in other directions; but in fact, the cyclical shape of our family it retains its integrity as a whole, uninterrupted, sealed entity without any apparent entry or exit--it's just bigger.

Our experiences with our children bear this out. After adjusting to the initial changes that each child brings, we quickly settle into a family routine where it seems unlikely that this child was ever not part of our family; that surely this person was meant to be with us, and of course will continue as part of us, forever.

And so it also feels natural that my wife and I are together. It may sound trite or foolish or fantastic--take your pick--but it feels as though we have always been together. The funny part is, I can remember that it wasn't always this way; we have had--and still have--plenty of spots in our relationship that require smoothing out. But nonetheless, my wife's efforts to harmonize with me have at length resulted in such a natural fit and compliment to my rather strange edges, with my reciprocal efforts fitting around those equally singular edges she must also have, that together we are complete: a whole package; a single, unbroken surface whose synergy covers the barbs and quirks.

It's as if we were meant to be. As if we just are. As if there never was a time when we weren't a part of each other, nor ever will be. Without beginning and without end.

Like a ring.

Forever.

Wife Rule #110: She Still Rules

2009-06-30T12:20:00.000-07:00

I just couldn't let the month of June go by without a single post. My wife still rules. I have just been absolutely swamped, and I can't bring myself to post in haste, or it will end up being pathetic, like this post.

Wife Rule #109: Love Mothers

2009-05-10T08:46:00.000-07:00

Now there stood by the cross of Jesus his mother, and his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Cleophas, and Mary Magdalene.

When Jesus therefore saw his mother, and the disciple standing by, whom he loved, he saith unto his mother, Woman, behold thy son!

Then saith he to the disciple, Behold thy mother! And from that hour that disciple took her unto his own home.

After this, Jesus knowing that all things were now accomplished, that the scripture might be fulfilled, saith, I thirst.

(John 19:25-28)

If Jesus is our ideal Exemplar in all things, and I testify in my own small way that He is, then this simple story contains a tremendous amount for us to learn about the way we should love, and care for, our mothers.

The scriptural record is incomplete as far as detailing what happened to Joseph, the husband of Jesus' mother Mary. The last we hear of him directly is in the brief description of Jesus' childhood, when he and Mary frantically searched for her missing son and found him in the temple with the learned men of the day. There are passing references to him later on, such as when Jesus' unbelieving neighbors asked "Is not this the carpenter's son?" (Matthew 13:55) In that passage we also learn that Mary and Joseph had several sons and daughters as well, so we know Jesus had brothers and sisters. But Joseph the carpenter doesn't make any further personal appearances in any of the four gospels.

It seems probable that Joseph had died by the time the Savior was suffering on the cross. This would make Jesus' mother Mary a widow, now in the care of her several sons and daughters. Why would the Savior, in His own time of tremendous suffering, with the literal weight of the entire world on his shoulders, be thinking of who would care for his mother after he was gone?

Because He loved her.

Apparently the Savior of mankind thought it important enough to make one of His final acts in mortality the entrusting of his mother's care with a faithful disciple. Not only was John beloved of Jesus, but John had received a singular promise from the only Man on earth able to fulfil it, that he would tarry on this earth until the Savior's return (John 21:20-24).

Peter, James, and the other disciples who were also just as devoted to Jesus' cause would almost certainly be just as capable as John in caring for a still young Mary, but Jesus entrusted his mother's care to the one disciple who He knew would outlive them all. They had been called to eventually die martyr's deaths; John had been called to endure an unnaturally long life. This is the disciple charged to take care of Jesus' mother.

Only after taking care of this very important matter did Jesus know that "all things were now accomplished."

May we follow Jesus' example with the mothers in our lives. There are several in mine. My birth mother has devoted her life to loving and serving her children. My life has been blessed beyond description, including in ways I do not yet fully comprehend, by her labor of love. My mother through marriage gave the same service and devotion to the lives of my wife and her siblings, and now also blesses me personally. My wife is currently following the same pattern, spending her strength and energy giving and enriching the lives of my children, and exalting me as her husband.

One of my mothers already is a widow, like Jesus' mother likely was. The two other mothers I mentioned may someday be widows. Regardless, each of them requires the same kind of thoughtful, loving attention the Savior showed to His mother. This attention and love often doesn't come during times of convenience or ease, but rather, in the midst of the hectic joys and turmoils of life. But it must come.

Love mothers. They are worth it. They deserve it.

Wife Rule #108: My Flesh and Bone

2009-05-01T19:19:00.000-07:00

I awoke to the pale, early-morning light seeping through the whitewashed blinds of my bedroom. Through the foggy half-awareness that accompanies the first thoughts of the day, a feeling stood out: something was missing. It felt as if during my sleep a part of me had been removed. Yes, as if some vital part of my body had been taken out and fashioned into another form: a form I desired; a form I was destined--no, was designed--to be with; a piece of me that was exterior to my body, yet yearning to return.

And then all at once the haze lifted from my mind like a dissipating mist and I comprehended what this sense of incompleteness meant. With a smile, I remembered that the resolution was at hand: today was the day I would be united with my bride, our wedding day.

Like the introduction of Eve to Adam by God Himself in the garden, she having been taken out of his very flesh and formed from a rib, today the counterpart of my soul--the person who could complete me and make me whole--would be given to me by her father. The crown of my manhood and jewel of my life was about to bind herself by covenant to me, and I to her.

My stomach was churning--not with unpleasant anxiety like that which precedes a final exam in Calculus, but with a high-energy anticipation of the day's events. Today would be one of those surrealistic days where things long waited for in the abstract realm of inexperience would finally take concrete form, giving new understanding and richness to life. And me and my wife--yes, my wife--would be at the center of it all.

It felt like if I didn't get going right now, my legs might take off running all on their own, cartoon style, leaving my head and torso behind: a fitting tribute to the incompleteness that suddenly seemed so apparent. I showered hurriedly and absentmindedly. I probably remembered to put on deodorant. I do know that I paused for just a minute to make sure my hair was parted in a reasonable position, knowing that in wedding photos even an engineering student should try not to look like a total goober.

I have no idea what I ate for breakfast; eating held no joy for me. During the brief preparation time that morning my mind was focused like a laser beam on a beautiful, young, blond woman, three hours away at her parents' house, who had doubtless been up for hours by now with a hairdresser.

By this time, the morning sun had cleared the foothills and was spilling down the canyon between the high peaks and through windows of this house which would remain my home for only a few more hours. I was ready and willing to give it all up--my youth, my bedroom, my place in this house, my carefree selfishness, all the life and routine I had known before this day--for her.

One thing that did give me pause during my crazed morning rush--and my wife will laugh--was the magnificent view of Mount Olympus out the semicircular window above the staircase. Seeing the familiar brown rock face framed neatly in its picturesque beauty made me wistful for just a moment, knowing I would only see that view as a visitor from now on. I know, I'm a sentimental fool.

My tuxedo was ready, my teeth were brushed, and my morning prayer--undoubtedly short, yet one of the most jubilant of my life--was offered. The rest of my family had joined in the frenzy, and somewhat miraculously we had all arrived on the landing at the top of the stairs at about the same time. We knelt together in a circle, holding hands for the last time as a family of six. We prayed. I requested that we sing, something my family has always enjoyed together. Tears flowed amidst mildly dirty looks at me for suggesting a course of action with such a predictable emotional outcome.

And then we left. My brother joined me in my car, a welcome conversational distraction to help pass the agonizing 90-minute drive to the beautiful, tulip-laden grounds of the Logan temple. This magnificent structure was built by the pioneers that settled the Logan valley and was hewn out of limestone quarried from the canyons of the adjacent Rocky Mountains. It has shape and style elements similar to a grand castle, including towers with battlements, but not the same formidable feeling of a fortress designed to keep intruders out. Instead, the building radiates a soft beauty, a sort of light that beckons you inside, as if the God of Heaven were whispering out of its walls that He anxiously awaits your presence within.

And He was there.

I entered the temple and said goodbye to my family for the last time as a single man. One of the kind attendants pointed me to a comfortable sofa in the main entrance hall where I sat and waited for her to come. I'm not sure how long I was there, as my mind was now caught up in another intense wave of anticipation, and such strong emotions tend to bend and warp time like the gravity of a great star.

I heard her voice. I don't know how to describe it, except to employ the usual cliches: bells ringing, birds singing, angelic choirs, etc. But those all fall miserably flat. It will have to suffice to say that the casual, soft conversation she was having with her mother as she entered the temple was the most beautiful, breathtaking noise my ears had ever taken in. A moment later, she appeared.

She looked stunning! Her hair was done up in an elaborate weave of flaxen gold that shimmered under the lights. She wore a lovely yellow dress that complemented her figure, and as I gazed upon her I felt that I had never seen a more beautiful woman. Since she was not yet wearing her veil, I absorbed the full force of her smile as our eyes connected.

Her face had a look of serene confidence and sublime joy in it, a countenance to match my own. She stood there before me, ready and willing to join herself to me. This was real; it was happening; it was not merely a pleasant dream that I would suddenly wake up from and forever long to sink back into; we were here.

I don't know if it is possible to comprehend the feelings of my heart that morning without understanding how carefully we had waited and prepared for this day. In a world that holds few things sacred, we had kept and preserved our integrity and virtue through an eighteen-month courtship. We kept a constant watch on our emotions and passions so that they would not overcome us. We tried to stay out of situations where we would be driven to overstep sacred bounds. We set up rules. We tightened them up when it became necessary. We carefully monitored not only our actions in relation to each other, but our words and even our thoughts as they crossed the thresholds of our minds. I'll be honest and admit that it sometimes took a tremendous amount of effort. But we did all of this so that we would be worthy to be here, in the House of God, able to stand together with untainted consciences and be joined by His power, in His appointed way. Receiving His blessing required playing by His rules.

She is more than worth it.

Because we had waited and anticipated and prepared so carefully for this day, we arrived that morning with an inner illumination and anticipation far beyond what it might have otherwise been. My conviction is that this sublime joy is reserved only for those who have put their trust in Christ and His purifying power, and join together at the marriage alter with virtue intact--whether it be unaltered from the beginning or restored through His grace, it is the same.

This reservation of rewards is not because God is partial or unfair, but precisely because He is fair, and the laws governing cause and effect are real. These laws are so often viewed in a negative light, as merely a collection of can'ts and shouldn'ts; but I believe the positive side of God's laws are much, much more powerful than their counterparts. The irrevocable results of doing the cans and shoulds were now ours to cherish: here we were together, two people wholly, hopelessly in love, and ready to be joined, never again to part.

She went her way to the bridal dressing room, an ornate space of lights and mirrors where brides change into their wedding dresses and mothers fuss about stray hairs, smooth out imaginary wrinkles, and otherwise dote on their daughters one last time. I went to the groom's lockers, where I was assigned...a locker. But no matter; I didn't have much to prepare. I dressed for the ceremony and went to a special waiting room where an attendant seated me.

My bride arrived a few minutes later, wearing a gorgeous white dress. Her youthful form was wrapped in an elegant blend of lace and pearl beads, the sleeves extending down her slender arms to her wrists and her skirt extending to her feet, her train fastened up at the moment. We smiled and joined hands tightly, grateful that the last moments of our premarital separation were behind us.

The attendant took us up a staircase to the sacred rooms in the temple where husbands and wives are sealed together through the power of God. This sealing power extends not only "as long as we both shall live," but throughout the infinite expanse of time called eternity. Someday, when mortality and the earthly contracts that govern us here are merely distant memories, the eternal marriage of a husband and wife--if they are willing to abide by God's laws governing that marriage--remains in full force, majesty and splendor. It is the ultimate Happily Ever After, where After has no limitations.

The attendant had us stand off in a side room where we could look through the doorway and watch in private as a small stream of friends and loved ones filed into the room where we were about to be wed. Parents, siblings, grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, childhood friends and college roommates had all taken a precious day out of their lives to come and celebrate with us. We felt loved and honored beyond measure.

And then came the moment when we were to enter the sacred room ourselves. Holding my bride's warm hand in my suddenly cold one, I escorted her through the beautifully carved doorway and into the room. Our parents sat on either side of the space where we would sit. Our fathers looked serene and our mothers looked like they were about to melt.

A great, magnificent, gold-framed mirror hung directly behind these seats and a matching one hung on the opposite wall behind the seats of the others who had come to witness our wedding. Sitting with her hand in mine, we could look into the parallel mirrors and see our reflection echoed across the room to an infinite depth until the details eventually shrank into a sea of gold and blue-green lines converging on a center point. This symbol of eternity seemed so appropriate with my face next to my wife's, repeated to an endless degree.

The ceremony itself was so special and sacred that I won't write about it here, except to say that when my sweetheart became my wife, my heart was full with every emotion I had ever anticipated. Every moment of self-denial and personal preparation during the last eighteen months, and during all the years before I met her, was more than compensated for in the way I felt, holding her hand for the first time as her husband. We gave ourselves to each other as an unblemished offering in body, mind, and spirit, a gift made possible because of Jesus' offering for us. His boundless love found new expression through us, in His holy house. That day we were bound not only to each other, but also more closely to Him.

One of the guests remarked to my parents that he never remembered seeing two people who looked happier to be married than my wife and I did in the temple that day. I believe him. I can't imagine being more filled with joy than we were then.

My wife gave herself to me completely on our wedding day. She continues to give herself to me freely each and every day that passes. She is even more beautiful and radiant today than she was then--the wealth of her gift only increases with each passing year.

I feel so close to her, like our intertwined lives have completed me these past eleven years. Truly she is now "bone of my bones, and flesh of my flesh." She who was "taken out of Man" has returned, never to be parted again (Genesis 2:23).

Thank you so much for joining yourself to me, my love, my eternal companion, my wife.

Wife Rule #107: The Shoulders I Cry On

2009-04-26T20:20:00.000-07:00

Easter is a celebration of life, with the resurrection of Jesus Christ as its centerpiece. However, the joy of that morning is so much more meaningful when considered in contrast to the days immediately preceding it, which were surely the darkest this world has ever seen. Those are the days I found myself contemplating at Easter time this year.

I think that's okay, too. While the Savior certainly doesn't want us to spend our lives despairing--that's why He suffered for us and broke the bands of death, after all--He is also the one who wept with Mary and Martha when their brother died, knowing full well that mere minutes later he would be reuniting them with a very living Lazarus.

Jesus was always genuine in His feelings, the ultimate example of "mourning with those who mourn." His perfect example in such times of distress is helping me realize how to cope, in a healthy way, with the unwanted "preemptive grief" for the inevitable, unmentionable end of my father's cancer.

A few days before Easter my wife and I had just finished a rather discouraging phone call with my parents. We were in the thick of the Bad News stage of cancer diagnosis, the one where every conversation with medical professionals seemed to bring to light new things to be depressed about. My parents were very down, and that always tends to trigger my sympathetic emotions too.

We hung up the phones, and I wandered over to the sink to do the dishes while my wife sat down at the computer. I was barely three dishes into my task when I suddenly realized I had an opportunity to have it out with some of the pent-up grief that had been boiling just below the spillover point for a few weeks now.

The speed and intensity with which the wave of emotion overcame me almost caused me to drop the dish in my hands. My eyes were a flood of sorrow and my face was consumed with a burning heat. I felt an involuntary, painful weight welling up in my chest, an emotional response that had been foreign to me most of my adult life, save for a few occasions that involved similarly difficult circumstances. I knew I wouldn't last on my feet; the heaviness seemed so great.

I half stumbled to the couch and barely managed to blurt out "I need you right now!" before collapsing in a heap on my astute wife's shoulder, which had been placed in position a second before.

Then the sobs came. Wave after wave of anguish welled up inside and spilled out of me. There were sobs for the pain in my parents' voices. There were selfish sobs for future days I wouldn't have with my father. There were sobs for my children whose days of having a Papa were now numbered so small. There were sobs for my wife, who having lost her own dad a few years ago, was now losing her second father. There were sobs for my mother, who was now facing an uncertain future. There were sobs for my dad, facing painful treatments and the eventual end of his mortality.

Regrettably, there were also sobs for apparent unfairness of it all; sobs for every ornery, careless old man who lived deep into his twilight years, when my father, a literal saint who had been diligently health-conscious his whole life and was in much better shape than me, was cruelly having his days cut short. The irony and injustice seemed like too much to bear.

Wives are made for such times. Mine knew not to speak to me--her own intense experiences of crying into my shirts have provided her with powerful empathy in these moments. She simply stroked my hair between shudders and offered herself as a human hankie to help assuage my grief as it came tumbling out. I can hardly describe the comfort she provided for her very fragile, needy husband.

When I could sense that the stragglers in the pack of sobs were settling down, I ventured to opened my eyes. It just so happened that in the position we were sitting, I could see over her shoulder to the opposite wall where we have hung a picture of the Savior kneeling in Gethsemane. I found my thoughts turned to another place and time, where Another "began to be sorrowful and very heavy."

"Then saith he unto them, My soul is exceeding sorrowful, even unto death: tarry ye here, and watch with me.

"And he went a little further, and fell on his face, and prayed, saying, O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me: nevertheless not as I will, but as thou wilt.

"And being in an agony he prayed more earnestly: and his sweat was as it were great drops of blood falling down to the ground." (Matthew 26:37-39, Luke 22:44)

I found my eyes wet with new tears. O Lord, I cried, it's so heavy. How did you do it? How did you suffer so? The pains I feel now seem like they could crush me. How did you suffer these, plus the pains of billions more like me, with much worse problems than mine? It would take so much more than a man; it would truly take a God. O Jesus, Son of God, how did you do this for me and my father?

Please, if Thou be willing, take this burden from us. Please. But nevertheless...

Yes, nevertheless. If Christ could willingly endure His mighty load, surely I could endure my small one. If He could heal a whole world full of sinners, then surely He could heal my single broken heart. He can see my family through this. If He wills my father to suffer for reasons unknown and not understood, then I can trust Him in this thing. After all, He has the wisdom of a God. He is a God.

I have relied on Christ's atonement to find peace in my soul so many times that I have lost count; unfortunately, I am an experienced repenter. But that night, crying on the shoulder of my wife, I feel like I got a more personal glimpse into the tremendous load He carried. Perhaps it's because I wasn't mourning for my own foolishness that night, but mourning (mostly) for the sake of others. Perhaps my heart was positioned to better understand how His heart felt on that dark, cruel, unfair, unjust, night in Gethsemane: the night the one perfect Man to grace this globe shouldered the burdens of all of us, the guilty world, making them His own.

In such a worshipful state of mind, the great relationship triangle between myself, my wife, and my Lord seemed so apparent, so obvious, and so necessary. I need my wife; I need her desperately. She needs me just as desperately. But we would be unable to help each other to even the small extent that we can, without the grace of Christ. When I bury myself in her shoulders, or she in mine, we are in fact both being carried on His shoulders.

"Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows.... But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed" (Isaiah 53:4-5).

Jesus Christ makes all things possible, including the eventual healing dawn that follows all nights of heavy darkness. That is what we celebrate on Easter.