Early to Bed? – -

All of us have heard Benjamin Franklins famous quote “early to bed and early to rise makes a man health wealthy and wise.” The older I get the more I understand this concept. My teenagers are the last ones to want to go to bed early, and if we would let them they would sleep-in until noon. Maybe that’s why they’re so poor and are always asking for money. Despite this habit they seem to be quite wise – at least they think they know everything- just ask them. Over the years we have tried to stay up until they come home from their nightly activities – this is most difficult on the weekend when their curfews are a little later. The older children correctly point out that the younger ones get away with murder compared to what they did. I think over time we understand a little more what are the important battle that need to be fought – and to not fight every battle like I use too. For the most part staying up late has been my job and I rather enjoy it. Maybe that’s why I’m so poor, but I don’t have anyone to ask for money. Lori doesn’t mind it either because she likes to know what they have been up too. But she’s not a late night person and finds it hard to stay up too long. Now I wish old Ben had said early to sleep not early to bed – if that was the case I might be a wealthy man. I like to sit up late reading or listening to music on the coach waiting for the kids; sometimes it’s just nice enjoying the silence. The older I get the more trouble I seem to have completing the task. I sit down with good intentions, next thing you know I’m sawing logs – or reading the inside of my eyelids. Occasionally when the kids get home they have a hard time waking me up. A few times I’ve woken up at two or three in the morning needing to go to bed, I don’t think this qualifies for the early to raise part of the equation. Neither does the fact I need to get up to go to the bathroom all the time. This doesn’t only happen just at night – we sit down to watch a movie or a T.V. program and next thing you know I need to push remind it to see what is going on. I’m sorry to admit it, it also happen at church, I’ve been told I’ve missed a couple of great sermons, but I’ve also been told I was the lucky one as I’ve missed out on a few travel logs or ramblings. At least I haven’t been like Eutyclus – the young man talked about in Acts chapter twenty, the Apostle Paul spoke so long he fell a sleep and fell from his third story perch to his death. Thankfully Paul had the authority or power to raise him from the dead. Oh well – these aren’t the things Ben was talking about. In my case I really do have a clearer mind and can get more done early in the morning. This is very obvious as well when I’m saying my prayers – during those late night prayers you'd think I’m reviewing my whole life only to relies it’s hard to sleep on your knees. Occasionally half way through I wonders what it is I’ve even said. But in the morning I seem to get a little more inspiration and direction – I can think out my choices and problems with a clearer mind and resolve. Benjamin Franklin was a brilliant writer, inventor and statesman – how can I argue with his experience of what part of the day is the most productive.

Mt. Rushmore –-

There are a lot of famous spring break spots – South Florida, Cancun, San Padre Island, Las Vegas and much more. Normally they all have a couple of things in common – they are warm and there are a lot of other kids as well. Because of so many kids, there are always a few that are willing to do anything – I mean anything. This is the last place parents want to take their kids - if the kids wanted to go the last people they would want to be seen with would be their parents. But there are tons of other locations that would suffice – there are thousands of miles of warm beaches.

One spring break we came up with the perfect location and mode of transportation. We decided to make the great America trek that everyone should do in his or her lifetime. Mt. Rushmore – now because we have a big family and grandma and grandpa decided to tag along with uncle Donny we didn’t want to take two cars. Thus the reason we rented a fifteen-passenger van. One of our kids was overseas for a schooling experience, so there were nine of us. We could have gotten away with a smaller van but the extra space was a wonderful blessing – can you say sleep city baby? Because the adults were willing to sit up front and close together it left the back four rows for five people.

The problem in the Rocky Mountains and driving to the Black Hill of South Dakota is the weather in that area of the country doesn’t know if it’s spring or not. The problem my daughter saw is that this trip was headed north not south. From our house this trip is a dozy – farther than Disneyland and the sunny beaches of Southern California. Which would have been higher on most of the children’s – check that - all of the kids list of possible locations.

We stopped a couple of times each way and stayed twice in Casper Wyoming. It a little over half way from home, but most important is that I got a great deal on the rooms. We stopped at Independence Rock - kind of a cool spot that explorers and pioneers stopped to carve their names in the rock and to see if there was a message from those that went before. It got it’s name because those headed west needed to be there before the fourth of July in order to make it safely through the mountain passes ahead before winter storms could over came them.

The second day was a shorter dive into the Black Hills – we drove northeast and stopped at Jewel Cave. I love exploring any cave that has an elevator that takes you to the bottom. This is also when the weather started to be a factor on our journey. It started to snow as we approached the cave and then after the couple of hours under ground we returned to the surface to find a couple of inches of white stuff in the parking lot and on the van. Our then fourteen year old still talks about her lack of enthusiasm - sunny beaches or snowy canyons? We then drove to our home base Rapid City – we stayed at a new Hampton Inn that was really nice, I got a great deal on the rooms. Maybe that’s because there was no one else there – they had all gone south or had checked the weather reports. The indoor pool was great and the huge waterslide was a big hit. The only problem was that the water was cold – oh well I spent the whole time in the hot tub.

The next morning it was time to finish the journey to this massive American icon. We drove the thirty some odd miles passing all the tourist attractions and shops that were all closed since no one come to Mt. Rushmore at this time of year. We’re almost there! More than fifteen hours of driving, not to mention the ride home that is still ahead. Grandma and Grandpa had driven seven more hours just to get to our house to start the trek.

It’s kind of cloudy – but we’re having fun! We paid the entrance fee and went to the visitor’s center. Wait where’s the carving of the presidents? Behind the clouds! – Really? We couldn’t see a thing – nota – nope – nothing. We sat though a couple of films and displays – most of which I slept through. The rangers told us there have been times it stayed this way all day. Wow – did you really have to say that?

After about an hour and a half we found out that there is a trail that goes to the base of the monument – let’s do that maybe we can see something. We took a couple of pictures to prove that we saw a cloud on a mountain. As we made our way to the base – there I think that’s George Washington. It started to clear and yes it’s magnificent - we could see all four of them.

By the time we got back to the lookout it was as clear as a bell and we could now see the monument in its full glory. We had planned one day to see the mountain, we could have changed our plans and spent another, but that would have been a long ways to see a cloud! Our trip ended up being great, most of us still talk positively after all this time except our then fourteen year old – I think her friends came back from spring break with tans not frost bite.

Mom’s passing --

This story is one of religious significance and something that is one of my most precious memories. There’s a colonial children’s pray that begins - Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep, should I die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take. The death of a loved one can be one of the most challenging and soul-searching events someone can go through. The way it happens can bring extra closer or leave thoughts of I should have or could have done certain thing before the unexpected event. When my father passed away it was after a seven-year battle with Alzheimer’s, there were no quality goodbyes or a chance to rectify regrets or sorrows. His passing was in reality a celebration, the freeing of his soul or spirit from his prison of confusion and forgetfulness. But the thoughts I’m sharing aren’t of his life or death but those of my wonderful mother. She was a widow for ten years and during that time she never lost her love or desires to be with my father again. She lived a full life and continued to enjoy her family and the events that were important to her. But after close to fifty years of a loving companionship there is no way to fill the void and loneliness that comes to anyone that loses their eternal companion. With such a large family I think most of us thought there was no time of possibility to be lonely, but that loneliness wasn’t because of not having someone to associate with - but for the loving interaction that comes with years of pains, joys and the personal relationship that is developed or earned over time. One of the tender mercies of my life was the night that I went to my mothers house to borrow her quilting frames for my daughter. We sat in her living room and talked for more than an hour, she bore her soul about how she missed my father and we talked about old times, we laughed and shared our love for each other. This was less than a week before she passed away from an unexpected heart attack. It was the last time I was able to talk with my mom. That hour reminded me of the times we use to sit up late together watching old movies, playing games and talking. That evening will be one that I will never forget – I’m so glad I took the time to spend with her instead of just running in and taking the frame as I had intended. Upon relaying this experience to my brothers and sisters you could see the envy and wanting they shared to have one last event like this. I wasn’t the last of the family to talk to her before her death but I was the last one to spend time talking about what she was feeling and the desires to be with dad. A couple of days after her passing I was up late preparing a talk to give at her funeral. I was struggling to formulate the message I thought needed to share. For years we had a family newsletter that all of us were suppose to write in. My wife kept them in a certain location down stairs. But that night I went to a cupboard in the kitchen and found three of these letters not in the proper location - all three were written months or years apart, each included a letter to the family from our mom in which she bore her testimony of the Savior and the truthfulness of the gospel. She expressed her love for each of us and talked about how proud she was of the way we had all turned out. I received the strongest feeling that this is what she wanted me to say at her funeral. At that moment out of the corner of my eye I saw her in the room smiling and knew that she was influencing the preparation of my talk to express her love and faith to those that she loved one last time. This event was only for a short moment, but one of the most spiritual event of my life. My faith of an after life is as strong as any belief that I have. I can envision the embrace and wonderful reunion that she had with my father and how they spent time renewing their love and excitement of being together again. Their lives have been the greatest influences in mine – their faith and example are the shining star to leads me in my darkest moments. Indeed they continue to influence my chooses and faith and will forever.

Nieces and Nephews –-

I talk a lot about my family. I have a lot of great stories about being a son, brother, cousin, husband and father – but more people call me uncle than any of the others. Well let me rephrase that – more could call me uncle, most of them call me Paul. Let me explain how many people this includes. On my side of the family my brothers and sisters have fifty-one children. Twenty-seven boys and twenty-four girls, when you add my four girls and one boy the numbers even out at twenty-eight a piece. One of my older sisters has been married twice and he new husband has three children from his first marriage – so when you add up all the columns then minus my kids (because they don’t call me uncle) there are fifty-four from my side of the family.

Now for the other side – Lori’s parent have twenty-one grandchildren, sixteen girls and five boys. When you add the sixteen kids that aren’t mine to the fifty-four on my side of the family – Lori and I have SEVENTY nieces and nephews. Now I’m not going to get into the ones that are already married and how their spouses can call us that too, or the fact that many of them have children of their own and what are their kids suppose to call me?

The part that is important is the roll that I have played in each of their lives. That roll has been drastically different on each side of the family. Being one of the youngest in my family I have nieces and nephews that are in the mid to last thirties – when they were littler I was the rowdy one, the one that would get them all wound up then let their parent try to settle them down after I was gone. We also have lived closer to my family over the years so they have seen me far more than those in Lori’s family.

In her family I’m an old man and there are uncles far younger than I am and who have taken the rowdy or awesome status that I once held on my side. That side still has babies being born and we have to go to Chucky Cheese and Disney Movies, the majority of them are still in elementary and middle school. Get together are more subdued and far less competitive than the Champlin reunions or get togethers.

The one that has the hardest time at my wife’s family function is our son because of the lack of testosterone – the closest male cousin is four years younger and there is a huge difference on four years as a teenage. At the Champlin functions there’s tons of male competitive energy – and we never see hide or hair of him. All of these kid's – teens - adults have special events and milestones in their lives. They have become old hat in my family, so if you can’t attend one of these events it really that that big of a deal. It may be that you can’t attend because you have such an event yourselves. But in my wife’s family it is still new and so it’s a big deal and if you can’t go you better have a note from your doctor or lose one of your appendages.

These kids are the same as most kids, some of them think the world revolves around them and others you wouldn’t hear a peep from them. Some are ugly and look just like me including the loss of hair – when it comes down to it looks don’t matter neither does what they do for a living or what they are studying in school. What matters the most is that they are family and we love each one of them despite their strengths and weaknesses.

Friends? –-

For the most part I think I’m a nice guy. I’ve never been arrested; I haven’t picked a fight for thirty-five years unless you count church basketball. I guess I’m quite opinionated and a little sarcastic – but I don’t think I force it on anyone. Maybe it’s just hard to be around some people for an extended period of time.

I’ve had a lot of friends in my lifetime – the ultimate word is had. Now before you start feeling all sorry for me I still have friends and some of them are ones that I want to associate with. But some of them are outright vocal that they’re my wife’s friends and I just come with the package.

Women just seem to have closer and longer-term relationships than men do. We had a group of friends that we use to go out to dinner with on occasion, after a couple of moves we still went out to dinner but it just not as often as before. It seemed that every time it happened I was the instigator – so at dinner I announced the next time we go out one of them needed to set it up and give us a call.

Well that was eight years ago, and literally we haven’t seen one of the couples since then. The other couple we bump into once very few years but they have never given us a call. I can envision their ride home from dinner that night – ALL RIGHT! He’s not going to call us again. In their defense we did move a couple of times, but we have always been with in an hour of each other. I wish this were the only example that I had.

There is a local politician that acts like we are the best of friends until the election is over then I might see him in four years. When he ran again I got a call from his wife and she wanted to have me write a letter to the editor for his campaign. I couldn’t because his opponent was a friend of mine as well.

I had a co-worker that I talked to a couple times a month for more than ten years; we even went to lunch at least once a month. He got a promotion and moved to another location and I’ve talked to him twice in five years – both times I made the call.

My two best friends in high school each live within a couple miles of our house, but we haven’t hung out or done something as a couple since high school. Some people could argue this is a gender thing because my wife doesn’t seem to have the same problem, but maybe it just a me problem. She sees someone that she hasn’t seen for a while and they start up right where they left off.

My wife has been going swimming with one friend three days a week for more than fifteen years. On more than one occasion I’ve asked her friend what she wants for birthdays and Christmas, I think they talk about every thing. I think there are some simple answers to this problem; my best friend by far is my wife and I really don’t need many more. I think this is true for most men, so I don’t make those friendships a top priority. Women on the other hand need to have close friends that think like they do and have the same interests.

My wife belongs to a quilting group or I think they call it a guild, they get together and make parts of each other’s quilts and talk about the kids and what’s going on in their lives. When men get together we talk about anything but feelings and what’s going on their personal lives. Thank goodness for sports! I grew up in a family with six sisters and my wife has four sisters and only one brother. That mean there are a bunch of women that will tell each other everything – the greatest is when they get on the birthing process. No I don’t want to trade them places, but I don’t want to hear about it either. The bottom line is that I have a lot of acquaintances that would say we’re friends of some sort – but don’t worry about getting together.

Ugly Brother -

Coming from a large family it’s amazing how much we are alike. I’ve been told genetics have a huge part to do with how we look, sound and act and even what our personalities trait may be. But there are a lot of things that are learned and are the results of our own choices. What we do with the circumstances we are placed in will dictate the outcome of our happiness and the directions in which we progress. I have three brothers and despite the fact we all have made our individual choices there are a lot of similarities between way we act and function in certain situations. I use to think they were pretty ugly until I realized I looked just like them. One day I got a call from my older brother who said he couldn’t do it anymore – I wanted to know what the “it” was. He said, “I can’t be nice to all these idiots that think I’m you.” Now this is hard to take because he is eight years older than I am – this is kind of like the story I told about my head and that I look ten years older than I am. One day I got a call from an acquaintance of mine that I don’t see very often that was a little offended. I’ve offended a lot of people in my life especially when I played sports, but I had no idea what he was talking about. He called to give me a hard time because I was so rude. He'd seen me at a local store and waved, apparently I didn’t wave back. He thought about it for a couple of days and it started to bug him. Now this is someone I actually like and would have waved because I wanted to, not just to be cordial. I started to apologize and then asked when it happened. He told me and I realized it was when I was out of town at a funeral more than a hundred miles away. I told him my excuse and who it most likely had been – then I asked him to do me a favorite, next time it happens walk up to me and slap me across the side of the head. I believe this is the perfect solution! First if it's me and I’m that rude then I deserved it and if not it would pay back one of my brothers for and the abuse they gave me over the years – either way it would make a good story for the next reunion. Now when we are all together you can tell us apart – I’m taller and better looking than the others and the one just older than me has more hair. The two oldest don’t have any more hair but they would have a big lump on their rear ends because of how money they have in their wallets. Now we all must have OK personalities because none of us married ugly women and for the most part our kids are cute. For being cousins some of them could be mistaken for brothers and sisters. Most of them have one thing in common they’re embarrassed by their dad’s. All of us are pretty competitive and we use to play sports together – when the kids started getting older it was them against the old farts. The bigger and stronger they got the weaker and slower we became and forget about being able to jump anymore, so we had to use other tactics to compete. Now they think it dirty, but it’s just that we know how to throw them off their game. But this is a little off the subject. The reality is that my brothers are great guys, men, friends and someone if I’m mistaken for is all right by me. They have become some of my idols, and someday I hope to be more like each of them especially the lump on their rear ends.

Humanitarian Service –

I’ve already written a story on Community Service – as I have donated a half a billion hours to a number of organizations. These are great and might get you listed on a program or plaque. Humanitarian Service is different in my eyes; this is when you do something directly to help someone else in need or who is less fortunate. This doesn’t make you noble or better than others, but it sure makes you feel good if you do it for the right reason and with a pure heart. There are a number of ways to do this; sometimes it’s by giving financial assistance to curtain organization that span the world looking for disasters and those needing assistance. For many years we have given such donations almost on a monthly basis. But these can also be done in every location in the world and especially where you are. I also love it when I’m able to do it anonymously. This isn’t the view of all philanthropists, we live in a small University town and half of the buildings on campus have the same name on it. Now I’m glad that they are willing to give to higher education and if I had that much money maybe I would do the same thing. One billionaire also donated for a building and named it after his father-in-law that didn’t have much money. My first anonymous humanitarian service wasn’t even my idea. My father knew of a family whose circumstances were desperate, so he bought a couple of bags of groceries and asked me to go with him to deliver them. Because he didn’t want them to know who did it, he asked me to take them to the door and ring the doorbell and run away. He said I was much faster and he would get caught. Now I had doorbell ditched before and now my father was telling me it was OK. In one of the bags was a large ham – I loved ham and when we got home the dinner mom made didn’t look as nice as that ham did. It took me a number of years to understand that my father was fast enough to get away and I was there for more that just my speed. I wish I could say I do this kind of service on a daily basis, but I don’t. I think all of us could do it more often. When I do it, it’s usually a small event that is only known by myself and those with whom it serves. This past year I was involved in an event that wasn’t small and was known by thousand of people. I’m a member of our stake presidency - this is a group of people that oversee a number of congregations within our church. In this stake we have approximately four hundred young men and women from the age twelve to eighteen. Every other year we have a youth conference where they all get together to sing, dance, play and hear some motivational speakers. Normally we go to another location so we have their undivided attention. A couple of years ago we decided to do something different – lets give them a chance to work their tails off. Now how do you get four hundred kids to be excited about working hard for a few days? 1^st – you need to have tons of food. Young men will do just about anything if they think they’re going to get a lot of food. The girls will come if they think the boy’s will be there. These are secondary reasons the main one is to let them know we’re going to help people that can’t do it for them. If we can help others, have fun and have a lot to eat – what great lessons they would learn. Part of our stake is in an older part of town where there are a number of disabled, widows, and single parent homes that need fixing up, painting, and cleaning up - basically doing something for someone who couldn’t do it for themselves. We wanted it to be done right so we convinced thirty contractor, professionals and knowledgeable individuals to over see each project. Our greatest challenge was to finance the project. It was my assignment to figure that out, it ended up being easier than you might have thought. After a few phone calls and personal appointments we had secured money from our churches humanitarian division, from individual members of our stake and also from Logan City. Apparently there are federal funds to fix up low income housing, as long as we met curtain criteria these funds are available. Why wouldn’t they want to donate – we match their funds with more of our own and then we provide all the labor and expertise. In all we spend sixty thousand dollars and donated six thousand five hundred hours of service. We worked on more than thirty different projects. We served by providing new roofs, sprinkler systems, painted houses, landscaping, new driveways and much more. Each family we served received a new quilt. A couple of months after the project I had the opportunity to go to one of the houses to talk to the recipients, they were so excited for the service that was rendered. He talked about the kids and how excited they were to be there. He said; “here we’re the ones needing the assistance and they are thanking us for the opportunity to work on our house.” When things needed to be done that we were unable to do, professionals were hired to make sure it was done right. Many of the workers after they knew what we were doing refused to accept payment for their services and others gave us a discount. As projects were being finished the kids wanted to go to the other projects to help them rather that to go home. Yes we still had firesides, motivational speakers, a dance and lots of food. But the greatest reward came from the faces of both the recipients and the kids as they helped others, those that couldn’t do it for themselves.

Bald -

There are a number of sayings about those having baldheads: bald is beautiful, there are only a few perfect heads and the Lord covered the rest of them with hair. I wonder if the guys that came up with these had hair? Tons of people love being bald; it has even become a fad over the past few years – many people shave their heads just to be vogue. If I were to guess I think most of them are hiding the fact it's leaving all by it’s self. Others of us don’t have a choice. I could start shaving the sides of my head and act like I’m bald by design, but doing so would negate what I think is one of the greatest benefit of being bald in the first place. When your bald it takes no time to primp – as a matter of fact in the shower there’s no use changing the soap used to wash my face to the more expensive shampoos my wife uses, that would take effort. Not everybody think like I do! Apparently the hair replacement – cover-up – restoration business is a billion dollar industry. Rogaine, hair plugs, weaves, transplants, wigs and toupees all cost a lot of money, time and in most cases delusional thinking. I’m sure thousands of these procedures are so good that I can’t tell it’s not their original hair. I may be wrong on my conclusions but despite not being able to tell in some cases – I believe they’re in the minority. Maybe these guys really think if they leave work one day and come back the next day with a full head of hair on one will notice. If it helps them feel better about themselves - more power to them. The one I can’t understand is the comb over! Believe me no one thinks it looks good – no one! I sure it started over time to cover–up the slight receding hairline and then evolved as more hair started to leave. Sorry but if you have a comb over - people are lying to you. I’m sure most women would like their men with hair, in shape and rich at least at first. The good ones would be willing to sacrifice these traits for honesty, faithfulness and hard working in a second. The way I look at it if they aren’t I know I wouldn’t want to be with them – of course I’m bald what else would I say. I’ve never had a woman say “man you would be hot if you had hair.” But I guess I’ve never had anyone say “your hot without hair.” Yes you have to be physically attracted to whom ever you’re with, if not it won’t last very long. Thankfully most woman aren’t as shallow as men, and are willing to over look men’s physical faults more than men are willing to do. This must be true, Julia Roberts married Lyle Lovett – maybe he’s not the best example he has hair, but I would compare his other feature to mine! This gave everyman in America hope. I guess I could have used the fact my wife married me, that was defiantly an act of mercy. Honestly being bald has never effected me or what I feel about myself, of course my kids would say I don’t ever care to much what I look like or wear for that matter. Socks with sandals – sure! My baldness is hereditary, which is easy to see as all my brother have the same hairstyle. I remember once I heard it your mothers father that baldness comes through – that can’t be true as my dad had lots of hair and my sisters boys are starting to look like me. Then I heard it’s your mother’s brothers that show if you’re going bald or not. In my extended family this theory actually works, now whether it’s a coincidence or if that the way it works it doesn’t matter anymore. What I have is what I’m going to keep, I haven’t heard of many people all of the sudden growing their hair again – unless they start one of those procedures.

Harold Lester -

Good thing each of us have different qualities, looks and abilities. It would be boring if we all looked, acted and did the same things. I had a lot of great companions on my mission – each of them was completely different than the rest. One of them was by far the smartest of them all; I think he had a photographic memory of sorts. He knew just about every scripture and where it was found – this was great when someone tried to show us we were wrong in the scriptures, good luck, you better know them pretty good to keep up with this guy. Then after we were done tracking an apartment complex and he would never know where the car was parked. I got along with all of them most of the time. But every once in a while a couple of us just didn’t click. Most people would say I’m pretty easy to get alone with - at least I like myself. It’s easy to get alone with someone that you have everything in common with: family, sports, schools - I just had a hard time with those that didn’t want to work. One of my favorite companions came out the same day I did so we helped each other in the MTC and then we later server together as Zone Leaders in Santa Fe New Mexico. We clicked almost to well, not only did we work hard but we had a lot of fun and success. While we were together there was a new missionary, Elder Brown that was assigned to our zone. He was from the Bear Lake area, which is only an hour or so from home. If you were to pick a complete opposite person from myself this would be him. I loved sports – I don’t think he has played any kind of sport, he was short and stocky – I was tall and slender, I didn’t wear glasses and his were about an inch thick. Personality wise I was very out going and he was reserved and quite. We were his leaders so we tried to make him feel at home as much as possible. I learned later that his mother had just passed away a few months before he came on a mission and that those first few months were very hard for him. A few months later I was transferred south to El Paso, Texas. At that time I was given one of my hardest companions – we just didn’t click. We were teaching a lot of people but no one seemed to be committing to the challenges we were giving. A couple of months later there was another transfer my new companion was – that’s right Elder Brown. At this time he had been out almost a year and I was close to going home. He hadn’t had the opportunity to see anyone baptized and was having a difficult time. This may seem like a formula for disaster – but it was the complete opposite. He was excited to be with me and was willing to work as hard as I would go. Apparently I wasn’t the only one that had a problem with my previous companion, all the people we were teaching started to commit to baptism. It seemed everyone we taught wanted to join the church. Elder Brown was like a kid at Christmas, eight people from three different families set dates for their baptisms in our first week together. These were some of the greatest weeks of my mission – the odd couple per says was clicking and changing the world one person at a time. There were some motivational tapes that we would lessen too on occasion - on one tape there was a man named Paul and his friend Harold Lester Brown. My companions name was Bruce – but the rest of it worked so I started calling his Harold Lester since my name is Paul. He liked his new nickname – but with what was going on he would have liked being called anything. While we were together – Elder Browns father happened to be in the Logan Temple and came across my father with his nametag on. He stopped my dad and asked him if he had a son on a mission in New Mexico – when he said yes my dad said he almost knocked him over to give him a hug. Elder Browns father wrote and told him they had met, he also told him he had met someone he wanted to marry. That made Harold excited and they had permission to visit him on their honeymoon – which happen to be right after I was transferred out of the area. I loved Elder Brown and will cherish our time together.

Suffered way to long –

I don’t know why some people suffer more in life than others. I do know most people that others think have the easy life have problems as well. They just aren’t as public as some are. When your feeling sorry for yourself just take time to look around and you will be happy to go back to your own problems. We have been told that we will not be tested beyond our ability to bear. I agree this feels wrong much of the time. There are a lot of things your responsible for as a bishop, the worthiness and activity of your ward are some of them. Every fast Sunday my ward clerk would have three lists on my desk: 1^st – the youth interviews and birthday. 2^nd – the endowed members of the ward without a current temple recommend. 3^rd – the members that had never been endowed. The purpose of these lists is to discuss what opportunities we may have to help someone make additional covenants and come unto Christ. During one of these sessions we had been discussing an elderly single sister that didn’t have a current temple recommend. When she had been asked to come in, she refused not wanting to discuss the situation. This was a bit perplexing to me as she was at church every week and showed every sign of being worthy to hold a temple recommend. During our conversation I had a strong feeling to go see her right then and to take the recommend book with me. We ended our meeting with a prayer and I went to her house without a warning. When she answered the door she asked me in and we exchanged pleasantries. Then I stated the reason for my visit – “I came to give you a temple recommend or to find out why you don’t have one.” She hesitated as tear started to well up in her eyes. It took a few moments but then she began to tell me a story of something that had happened more that twenty years before. It was embarrassing to her, but I could see the weight as if it was being lifted from her soul. The circumstances of the situation began to unfold none of while was her fault. These events had made her feel guilty and unworthy to hold a recommend, over the years a number of bishops had given her a recommend but she had never used it because she felt guilty. Never during that time did she explain why she felt that way or what had happened. Not only was she worthy but she had also been a victim. I challenged her to go to the temple as soon as possible, which she did. She continued to have a current recommend as long as she was in our ward. During the short time I served as bishop I had five or six individuals that talked to me about events that they had kept inside for more than twenty years, some more than forty years. In every case the pain, suffering and lose of blessings were far greater than what the Lord would have required for the transgression that had taken place. In more than one case they had done nothing wrong and were embarrassed to be a victim of someone else’s choices. I’m thankful for the influence of the spirit that instructed me to go see this wonderful sister that day and the blessing that were returned to her life. The question that then comes to my mind is how many other individuals we have responsibility for have limited their ability to receive the cleansing power of the atonement, have suffered far greater than the Lord has required and intended for them to suffer. One of the greatest principles of truth is that we need to come unto Christ; we need to start the process of repentance in order to be forgiven for our sins. Some sins are difficult to repent of and often it takes a lot of time and embarrassment for those involved. I believe the Lord will ask the minimum required to rectify the problem, the least amount of suffering for the act. But if we try to deal with it without his help it’s impossible to do so. But with his help also come an endless supple of love and compassion.

Sacrament –

One of the duties of the deacon is to pass the sacrament. Back in the older day when I was made a deacon we went to church twice on a given Sunday. In the morning the priesthood went an hour before the women and small children – this must have been so they would have longer to get ready. Then the whole congregation would attend either Sunday School or Primary for the children under the age of twelve. Later that day we would come back as families for Sacrament Meeting. The sacrament was passed three times each day – It was passed during Sunday School or to the Primary and then later during Sacrament Meeting. Right after I was ordained to the priesthood and made a deacon my president asked where I would like to pass first. I chose the primary because there would be less people. When you think about it the passing of the sacrament is a sacred privilege and should be an honor for all involved. Here you were able to give the congregation the opportunity to renew their covenants with the Savior in remembrance of the blood and body he sacrificed in our behalf during the atonement. This is a time of cleansing, renewal and contemplation of the great blessings he has given us. I have passed the sacrament hundreds of times in my life, mainly because I lived in a area that had very few deacons most of the time making it necessary to continue to pass even after my mission. Not everyone in the church is allowed to partake of the sacrament, only those in good standing. When someone loses that right I think it causes many of them to appreciate what blessing they really have and they try harder to repent and come closer to the Saviors cleansing sacrifice. When they come full circle and are able to partake again they have a new appreciation for this opportunity. Along with this chance to pass the sacrament I have blessed it many times as well, one of those time was not only for the congregation, but visiting that day was the President of the Church or what we believe - a Prophet of God. I think as a young man I didn’t think of what we were doing and how important it was. Many times I believed I viewed it as nothing more than my duty or even a chore. After my mission the opportunities continued as the youth in our ward were scarce. One of the most spiritual experiences of my life was when someone passed the sacrament to me and gave me the opportunity to renew my covenants. While I was serving as a Bishop we were invited to attend a solemn assembly in the upper room of the Logan Temple. Everyone invited was either a Bishop or Stake President. There were more than three hundred individuals in attendance that Sunday morning. What a powerful experience as all those dedicated men sang together “The Spirit of God Like a Fire is Burning.” Also in attendance were the First Presidency and all but one member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles. The sermons and instruction were amazing, but the high light of the experience was as the Quorum of the Twelve blessed and passed the sacrament to those in attendance. This is generally a duty assigned to the deacons of the church, the youngest and least inexperienced holders of the priesthood. At this time the twelve apostles, special witnesses of the Savior Jesus Christ, were administering it. You could see the excitement and honor as they approached this opportunity to help us renew our covenants. The prayer and act of partaking of the sacrament was no different that I had the week before and every Sunday there after, but I had a new appreciation for its importance and the opportunity to participate. It’s not just the duty of a deacon but all holders of the holy priesthood if they are blessed enough to be asked.

When you got to go –

There are a number of things we usually just don’t talk about; normally these are things we’re trying to forget. Now in this case it’s something everyone has to do – they even have commercial on T.V. that advertise medication to help control it. When I was growing up I didn’t have the strongest bladder, but at times even the strongest bladder is stretched to the limits at least the individual involved thinks so. One night in New York City we were walking to the empire state building when the man in front of us must have reached his limit as he decided to relieve himself in a planter on the side of the street. It was late in the evening so there weren’t as many people as rush hour but there were plenty of witnesses. Physically this situation is easier for a guy – but at the beginning of a major bike race I ran onto a lady in the bushes by the church doing the same thing – I had a key to the church but didn’t know it was needed. My bladder problems usually were less public and normally happened at night. My brother heard that if you put someone’s hand in warm water while they were sleeping it would open the floodgates. I became his first test case, which was kind of crazy since we slept on bunk beds and he was on the bottom. All the experiment did was make it happen sooner than later. It didn’t happen every night and there were things I could do to improve the odds – but it was still a little like Russian roulette it was going to happen I just didn’t know when. My father tried to bribe me with money if I didn’t wet the bed, now if I had that much control I didn’t want to do it in the first place. All of these happened forty years ago. Another time I need to go is when I hear rain or running water. For years I had to walk a block to our church early every Sunday morning, now it wasn’t very far but two of the houses I passed had fountains with running water – so the first place I had to go after entering the church was the restroom. Both houses have since been sold and the new owners must have the same problem, thus no more fountains. The sound of rain or running water effect more than just me, we once drove from Boston to a small fishing town on the coast of Maine named Camden. There were a lot of old houses that have been turned into bed and breakfast inns. What a great place to visit. Everything was wonderful including the weather until we started our journey home. As we started to leave town we couldn’t resist the sign – a McLobster. Only in Maine! Our friend decided to make it a meal, since my wife didn’t like lobster or any seafood for that matter but the fries are another matter. The large soda was the part our friend wishes he hadn’t gotten, or maybe it was his savior. The return trip was uneventful until we hit what could be considered a storm of the century – southern Maine received fourteen inches of rain in approximately five hours. It washed out a number of roads and it took us four hours to travel less than five miles. Now picture this - four people in a small metal car with the sound of rain beating down for four straight hours and one of the four just drank a large soda. Now it’s my experience that these things comes in waves, you need to go then it goes away but returns latter strong than before. After a few hours of this situation and the side aches accompany it – he had reached his limit. There was no exit – no trees or bushes on the side of the road and more witnesses then were acceptable. Thank goodness for his empty cup! He couldn’t keep it much of a secret and we were laughing so hard I’m sure it didn’t make it easier. If I’m not mistaken he had to empty the cup twice – not that the rest didn’t need to go when we finally got to a gas station. To say the least we missed our plane and spent the night making unscheduled connections, but the car ride in southern Maine is the part we won’t easily forget.

November 5th –

Some dates are so important it’s hard to forget them. When you say that date people instantly think of someone or something that has happened in their life or history. December 25^th – this is the perfect example for most Christians, what wonderful experiences or memories come into most of our minds. September 11^th – as this date points out our memories or the importance of a certain date aren’t always positive. This date is probably remembered in history over the past fifteen years more than any other, it brings the same feeling that our grandparents had about December 7^th the date Pearl Harbor was bomb by Japan. There are also personal dates that mean something to each of us and perhaps those closest to us: birthdates, anniversaries and days of major events both positive and negative. The more traumatic or wonderful the circumstances the more it stands out from the other dates all of us experience. As a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints we believe there are events that are essential to our progression and development and then there’s others situations that are opportunities to serve in areas that benefit our lives forever. I was baptized a member of the LDS Church on November 5^th 1967. I remember it quite well; it was in the basement of the tabernacle in Logan Utah. It took place in the same room that I was set apart as a member of the Mt. Logan Stake Presidency thirty-eight years later by Elder Bateman of the Presidency of the Seventies. I remember two events more than the rest: 1^st I was baptized by my brother Craig and 2^nd one of the other kids being baptized was wearing some white clothes that after they were wet we could see their underwear – it scared me that everyone would see mine as well. We are taught that baptism is a gate that is essential to get on the correct path to exaltation and return to live with God. There are other events and circumstances that are just as important to this process. There are also experiences planned and unplanned that change our perspective and direction in life. One of these opportunities for me was the chance to serve a full time mission, it changed the way I looked at life and gave me opportunities to learn that I never would have had without it. The reason I bring this event up is that I was set apart as a missionary on November 5^th 1978. I was later released on November 5^th 1980. These were dates assigned to me from the missionary department, I had no idea they were the same as my baptism date for many years. If I had realized it I may have tried to talk my wife into getting married on the same date – but then I would have had to wait two months and four days for the greatest event in my life. I don’t remember the exact date I figured it out but it was sometime after November 5^th 1995 the day I was ordained the first bishop of the Eastridge Ward. This experience was as spiritual for me as the time I served as a missionary seventeen years before. It was sometime during that service that I figured out the similarity of the date involved, because when the stake president was talking to me about my possible release, I told him if he’s going to do it, it may be nice to do it on November 5^th 2000. That wasn’t possible and I was released one week later. The date that these things took placer is far less important than the fact that they happened in the first place. The fact that they all happened on the same date is coincidence – a unique one at that. These are all special experiences for me in the opportunities of life. I’ve had many other opportunities to serve and events that have been life changing or essential to my progression that haven’t happened on this date. All of these together have made me who I am and have laid the cornerstone for which I will become in the future and throughout eternity. But it is a coincidence and the reason I’m posting this story on November 5^th 2009.