I think the Foreword to this book did a great job of summing up what it was all about, it read:
“There was more to the settling of the West than the battles between Cattle Barons and Sheepmen, Outlaws and Posses, White Men and Indians, Ranchers and Homesteaders which have been told in story and song over and over again.
There were other people who helped put down the roots of the West: the banker, the editor, the schoolteacher, the judge, the clergyman, the merchant, the artist, the saloonkeeper, the miner, the town drunk and the town bully.
This is their story.”
I read a lot of nonfiction so mixing in some fiction is always a nice change of pace. This was a perfect book for that purpose. A story shooting (pun intended?) back into a time I don’t know from personal experience but can relate to in all the cowboys v. natives fights I setup with my toys growing up.
I feel like the world has become increasingly fascinated by extreme fantasy – dragons and magic; or space travel – spaceships, aliens, and inter-galactic battles; or superheroes – Marvel and DC. I think one of the greatest tragedies of this transition is kids not growing up with a fascination of something that really happened, here in the United States, in the last century. Like I alluded to already, gun slinging bandits only slowed down by gun toting sheriffs – that was my favorite imaginary time as a kid. I loved the idea of a bandit coming into town to rob the corner store and another gun wielder being the only defense.
This book took me right back into my old imagination. A town where guns are on most hips as a matter of protection. The value in this book was the story telling from the perspective of a young man growing up in an early western settlement in Utah. If you enjoy the western theme, I think this is a great book for you.
This book is the sequel to another book: Papa Married a Mormon, with a third in the series titled: Uncle Will and the Fitzgerald Curse. I haven’t read Papa Married a Mormon but stumbled upon it in my collection of soon to be read books, so will read it soon. I didn’t get the feeling I was missing much having not read the first book. The story made complete sense to me and I thoroughly enjoyed it.
The book is 241 pages but is a quick and easy read. I would recommend it to anyone, especially anyone who enjoys the Western theme.
I don’t intend to start reviewing movies, but I thought this was worth it for a few reasons:
Seems to be getting some hype as Apple TV’s shake up to the streaming game.
I enjoy historical movies more and more as I get older and more boring.
Tom
Hanks
Faith element
Bad Germans
Tom Hanks is the captain now, right where he belongs.
I’m not going to do research into the truth of this movie or the historical accuracy, it was good, I liked it, leave it at that. I may get the book and read it at some point.
Midway through I said to Beth, I can already hear the navy nerds, “That is NOT how that happens!”
Doesn’t matter. It felt real to me. It felt like I was on a Destroyer, it felt suspenseful, it was a good movie. Also, it had Tom Hanks. Does anybody truly dislike Tom Hanks? If you do, please let me know.
My favorite part of the whole movie, and I truly don’t mean this as an insult to the movie, the runtime. A short, blissful, 1 hour and 30 minutes. Beth and I have high hopes that the trend of 2 hour plus movies will go extinct and we can get back to a less ridiculous 70-90 minute timeline.
Do you ever think back to why we (my generation) loved original Disney movies so much? They were never much longer than an hour. As it should be.
Another refreshing part of this movie was the faith element. I don’t remember the last time I saw a movie that depicted a strong man who relied on faith. Tom Hanks’s character is clearly depicted as a man of faith.
Maybe that’s why I loved the movie so much. In some small way I felt myself taken back to a time where the world didn’t shun God so aggressively. In fact, that was a time where faith was all people had as the world was at war and people had true fear about what future their children would grow up in.
There was the added element of bad Germans. Life is rarely as simplified as movies make it, but the man of faith vs cliché heartless German bad guys made it even easier to root for the good guys.
If you like Tom Hanks check out this movie.
If you liked Dunkirk, this was very different, but obviously has the similar sea-themed war movie dynamic. I really liked it. It kept me engaged throughout. It was suspenseful, very enjoyable.
Did I mention it was 90 minutes? So, if you do hate it, go watch a one hour episode of anything else stupid that you can stream and then realize, ‘huh, at least I feel like I learned something about an important part of our history instead of about a meth-head who likes tigers.’ Let some good stuff get in your system every once in a while. This movie was good stuff.
One of the most spiritual experiences I ever had, referenced in the post You Sent a Dog to Comfort a Boy, happened in the basement of my Aunt and Uncle’s home. Go read the post to get some back story on why I was there, ie soul searching.
During that trip, by some coincidence, my cousin had his farewell to go on his mission. I went to the farewell and I felt stuff. I felt an urge. I felt guidance. I came to Utah to search my soul and here it was.
That night I went back to the bedroom I’d been staying in. With just Bengie (my aunt, uncle, and cousin’s dog) in the room I knelt, and I prayed. I prayed like I hadn’t in so long. I asked what I was supposed to do.
Have you heard the story of Jonah and the whale? For those who don’t know, the Bible tells us that Jonah, a prophet of God, was commanded to go to Nineveh to prophesy to its inhabitants. He was to command them to repent and preach of their forthcoming destruction if they refused. Nineveh was described as a scary place. It was a near certainty Jonah would be murdered upon telling the inhabitants of their wickedness.
I always heard that story and couldn’t imagine, couldn’t comprehend. GOD told Jonah to do something. If God tells you to do something – you do it! It doesn’t matter how afraid you are or how scary it is. You DO WHAT GOD COMMANDS. Especially when it’s that clear. If God told you to do something, you would listen, wouldn’t you?
That’s what I always thought.
That night in the basement I asked what I should do next with my life. The answer couldn’t have been clearer if an angel appeared in the room and said it to my face. I knew. I needed to go on a mission. I can’t stress this enough. I knew what I was supposed to do.
Then the doubts. “I can’t go on a mission. Where would I even begin? I have so much to repent of. I don’t even know who to go to” were my thoughts. Also, I would have to give a GOING AWAY speech like I just watched my cousin give that very day. Out of the question. The thought of getting up in church and giving a talk was enough to make me feel sick. I couldn’t do it. I was too afraid. On top of that I had big plans in the coming weeks. It was my friend’s birthday and we had partying to do. You know, the important stuff. I couldn’t repent NOW.
In the story of Jonah he gets on a ship to run away (From God- I know, crazy). But here I was, running away from God. I pretended like I didn’t know the answer to my prayer, but I knew. I ran. I ran away.
I didn’t get swallowed by a whale. Instead I moved on, distracted and forgetting.
After Jonah’s whale incident, he finally agrees to do what God asked of him. He was spit up on the shore of Nineveh and followed what God asked him to do.
I think in a way, the few years after that moment in the basement, I was figuratively in a storm and swallowed by a whale. Not for three days but for four years. Eventually God had the whale spit me back up on shore.
You’d think I missed my chance, right? I never went on a mission. For a long time I thought I could never be forgiven for ignoring God. Then I got my patriarchal blessing. In it I am told to trouble myself not over lost days. I can’t explain in words the comfort that simple phrase gave to me.
Back to Jonah. He ignored God. Yet still, somehow, God used Jonah’s mistakes to bring about His work. I don’t know how God makes up for our mistakes. It recently occurred to me that in that basement I gave the first sincere prayer in a long time. Then I ignored God. I showed a modicum of faith followed by an excess of fear. After that I found a job in Arizona, I settled down, and have been here in Arizona ever since. Then I returned to church. Now I’m here, writing to you, hopefully you’ve stuck with me this far.
It’s so much better to do what God asks the first time. I think we avoid a lot of heartache if we do. But never forget – trouble yourself not over lost days. God will have you spit up on shore when you’re ready. When you’re really ready to trust in Him. It took me some time. Somehow, He accepted that. Somehow, He waited. I’m not saying I’ll ever fully make up for disobedience, not sure exactly how that works. But I know that Christ will forgive me because He loves me. There is no greater comfort than that.
I was 21 years old. I’d been couch surfing for a full year and starting to ask the serious questions. What was next? Was this me? Was there more for me to do? What do I do?
Sensing the end of my ‘no attachment to anything’ days I decided I needed to take advantage of my freedom while I still possessed it. No serious girlfriend, no serious job, no prospects for a serious job.
I decided to take a trip to the homeland. I packed up my teal ’98 Pontiac Sunfire and drove to Utah. I stayed with various family members, intending to be there a week tops. Weeks went by. I stayed with a cousin to party, I stayed with an aunt for movies and dinner, I stayed with grandparents for home cooked meals. Everything back then was tinted with selfish motivations.
Eventually I ended up at the home of my Aunt Laura, Uncle Jon, and cousin Sydney.
They had a dog named Bengie. He had been around a while. At this point he must have been around 4 years old. A little puppy-like dog, full of energy.
I stayed in the guest bedroom in the basement. I still don’t know if this was normal for Bengie, but every night I was there, when it came time to go downstairs for bed, he’d saunter down with me. I’d get in bed and he’d lay at my feet. Every night.
This was a soul-searching trip. One of the most spiritual experiences of my life happened in that basement. There were many tears. A lot of growing up and change happened there. Things were thought about that hadn’t been thought about for a long time. Options considered. Prayers said to God that had been avoided for so long. So many feelings and emotions. A post later this week called “Jonah and the Whale” will elaborate on these prayers.
Through all those emotional moments, I remember a dog. Sitting on the bed. Keeping me company. It was like God was saying, in a way my spiritually dimmed and simple brain could understand, “See him. He’s here for you. I brought him here for you.” Multiple times Bengie was hugged, talked to. You know, those weird, talk-to-the-dog-like-he’s-a-person moments. “What am I going to do Bengie? I’m scared.” He would look at me and it was like he knew; it was like he understood.
If ever there was a dog that understood…
I had a lot of comfort from that dog those few days.
So, when the time came that Bengie needed a home; Sydney was going to college and Uncle Jon wasn’t able to keep up with the day to day care of a still energetic, 11-year-old puppy, I jumped at the opportunity. My mom was talking to Jon about taking Bengie in. I asked and was prepared to beg. Let us take Bengie! Beth and I had just gotten married, I had just started coaching so Beth was home for hours and hours on her own.
It felt like the second time God sent just the right person, a dog, to answer not yet uttered prayers.
Today, I tell Beth that Bengie is my best friend, she can take second. Everyone else has fallen behind. Just like those days in that basement bedroom, seemingly alone, I’m never alone long. Any dog lover knows, especially with a velcro dog, he’s always there.
It was only a couple months in to having Bengie. We were at a dog park. As soon as we walked in a playful pit bull took an extreme interest in Bengie. It seemed playful. A small amount of concern set in when the owner of the pit bull quickly intervened, pulling her dog by its harness and dragging it, kicking and screaming, to the other end of the park. Beth and I continued to walk through the park. We were dog-sitting a giant golden doodle that day. So, Archie-the-golden-doodle ran bounding around the perimeter of the park. Bengie did his normal perusing, checking out the hot spots of the area.
Bengie was walking on his own, near no other animals or people. I didn’t go to the dog parks with Beth too often. It wasn’t in my nature to hover protectively over a dog when I did. Maybe something did feel off when we came in with the pit bull and the other dogs, being playful, I thought.
I saw the pit bull sprint right by me. It ran at Bengie. I continued walking towards them. I was maybe 15 feet away. I thought they were going to play. Bengie, not appreciating the sudden surprise charge of a bigger dog immediately got defensive.
It happened really fast. The pit bull bit Bengie around the neck and started swinging him around. I ran and grabbed the harness of the pit bull and yanked him back. Bengie fell out of his mouth. I pulled the pit away as he kept trying to get back to Bengie who was laying on the ground. The owner showed up and was trying to calm her dog. Beth showed up and scooped Bengie off the ground. I didn’t see it happen; all I saw was the blood pouring from the pit owner’s hand. I was lucky I got behind the pit bull. She made the mistake of getting in between a dog and what it now, apparently, deemed prey.
I’ll jump ahead, I don’t want to leave you in too much suspense. Bengie survived. By some miracle the pit bull didn’t get a full grip on his neck. Only one side of him was punctured, the other side of his neck was just grazed. If the pit got a proper grip, there’s no chance Bengie would have survived.
Puncture Wound
The next day was really difficult. Bengie wouldn’t eat or drink. He couldn’t walk, though he tried to. You know, because he couldn’t let us be anywhere in our home alone, even when he was near dying. I don’t know if you’re supposed to bless animals. I don’t think you’re supposed to. I didn’t anoint him with oil. But I held him, and I prayed, and I prayed, and I prayed.
I know this will be silly to many. Once upon a time it may have been silly to me. But I love that dog so much. In that moment I felt a tiny glimpse into what it’s like to see a child suffer. I know, I know, he wasn’t a child, I get it. I’m still saying it. I love him like a child, and it was really, really hard to see him so hurt and in so much pain.
I can’t begin to understand, even consider the pain of losing a child. I can’t. I won’t let my mind go there and hope I never have to. I learned a tiny, infinitesimal bit of that pain that day.
Now, as my first daughter makes her way to my life, I realize how much Bengie has taught me.
I like to think I’ve progressed more from a boy to man in these past 9 years. Since those first days with Bengie, when he comforted me. He stayed by my side and slept at my feet. He watched me pray. He was there to look at me, with (I swear it) care in his eyes as I cried questions I had to ask.
One day I’ll write about my Aunt Laura and why she was so special. Bengie was her special companion and comforter through her last years. Beth said something interesting recently. She said, “Sometimes I look at him and think about all the comforting he’s done.” For Laura, for me, for Beth. Aren’t we lucky God has sent us such special friends?
You sent a puppy to comfort a boy. You sent a dog to teach a man.
Coincidences. God puts people in our lives and around us for very important reasons. Our encounters in this life are not by chance.
What would have happened if the first day I wanted to go to church my roommate Chris said, “no, go on your own, I’m not going to that place”? I probably wouldn’t have gone. I may have never gone back. That would have altered my life in profound ways.
Chris was raised a certain way. I think he was raised or taught, at least to some extent, to have an open mind. When I asked him to go with me to my church his reaction was, “sure, why not?”
I have a friend who got baptized about 5 years ago. I came back to church about 4 years ago. That person has become one of my closest friends, especially in the church. We were able to grow together in our testimonies. Early on, we had things in common, namely: sports.
What would have happened if that friend didn’t get baptized? Would I still be here? Without someone to talk about the struggles, challenges, ups, and downs of returning to church, or in his case joining a church, would either of us have had the strength on our own to continue? Of course, if it wasn’t this friend someone else may have stepped in. That’s the amazing part about life. The butterfly effect is a phrase we use. Switch one event, one minor detail, and where are we?
This friend’s mother lived across the country so I hadn’t had a chance to meet her for the first part of our friendship. I was always so excited to meet his mom. Why? Because I wanted to meet the person who raised someone that was so open minded to investigate and research a church and find truth. People completely open to truth, in whatever form it comes, are rare today. When I met her I was not disappointed. She was an open-minded, positive, and powerful woman.
What would have happened if she didn’t raise her son this certain way? What if 5 years prior he was introduced to the church and, because of moments throughout his life, he instead developed a closed-off approach to new things? What if he said, “I don’t need a church.” If he didn’t get baptized 5 years ago, would I be here?
Dominoes. Butterflies.
There are all these moments, countless moments that impact us. We’ll never know in this life how tiny moments in our life have profound impacts.
I know that God laid forth this plan and every moment is important. We’re here to grow, we’re here to learn. I firmly believe God put us in the best possible position to accomplish those things. There are no coincidences in God’s plan.
I’m grateful for people with open minds. I’m grateful for people with closed-off minds. I’m grateful for people in between. We all have something to teach each other and I’m so thankful for the opportunity to be here and to develop relationships, to learn to love, and to learn what is most important. Every day is a new opportunity to learn and grow and I’m thankful for that.
No Coincidences 