Tag: Christmas

  • Is Roseto, Pennsylvania Zion?

    Is Roseto, Pennsylvania Zion?

    There was an extraordinary thing happening in Roseto, Pennsylvania in the 1950s. I read about it in an awesome book called Outliers by Malcom Gladwell.

    Roseto, Pennsylvania was an outlier when it came to heart disease. For some reason, instances of heart attacks and heart trouble in Roseto were shockingly different than anywhere else.

    In the 1950s, heart attacks were the leading cause of death in men under the age of 65 (Outliers, p. 6).

    In Roseto, nobody under 55 had heart attacks. Roseto had half as many people with heart trouble over 65 compared to any other area studied. This included next-door cities and towns.

    What’s fascinating about this is that this phenomenon apparently had nothing to do with genetics, diet, or any other seemingly obvious reason. There was no obvoius indicator of why a whole community would be free of heart trouble.

    Heart trouble wasn’t the only thing missing from this community. A sociologist was brought in to study the community. His name was John Bruhn and he said, “There was no suicide, no alcoholism, no drug addiction, and very little crime. They didn’t have anyone on welfare. Then we looked at peptic ulcers. They didn’t have any of those either. These people were dying of old age. That’s it” (Outliers, p. 7).

    What made Roseto unique, then?

    Finding no pattern, those doing the study had to look at anything different about Roseto to try to explain this phenomenon.

    This led to a primary theory. That primary theory behind why Roseto, Pennsylvania residents didn’t suffer heart trouble or many other common diseases had to do with their community.

    Roseto had an old-fashioned way about it in the 1950s, even compared to the standards of its day. The residents of Roseto were primarily Italian-American immigrants. The standard in Roseto was to live at home as long as possible, take care of one another, and generally live a more laid-back and communal way of life. A young man would stay at home and take care of family. If he lost a job, it was okay. The community would often try to keep shortcomings like a lost job secret so as not to create any embarrassment. Kids would take care of parents. Parents would take care of kids. The community took care of each other. It was a family-focused, close-knit community.

    “(Researchers) learned about the extended family clans that underlay the town’s social structure. They saw how many homes had three generations living under one roof, and how much respect grandparents commanded. They went to mass at Our Lady of Mount Carmel and saw the unifying and calming effect of the church. They counted twenty-two separate civic organizations in a town of just under two thousand people. They picked up on the egalitarian ethos of the community, which discouraged the wealthy from flaunting their success and helped the unsuccessful obscure their failures” (Outliers p. 9, emphasis added).

    The fact that Roseto residents had such low instances of heart trouble revealed a potential connection between community relationships and social support to reduced stress and heart disease. The community of Roseto appeared to buffer its inhabitants from the stresses of life.

    This got me to thinking.

    What is Zion? What is the perfect society? What will it look like? What will it be like, practically speaking?

    “…the Rosetans had created a powerful, protective social structure…” (Outliers p. 9).

    Will Zion be a community that goes to church together? A community that stops to talk to each other? A community that continues to live under one roof with their direct family as long as possible? A community where equality reigns? A community where spontaneous cookouts in front yards are common?

    This sounds like Zion to me.

    It’s fascinating that a community basically shielded itself from the stresses of a fallen world by living by these principles. I believe these are God-given principles: fairness, love, community, support, unity – that’s what makes Zion.

    “When presenting (the researchers’) findings at many medical conferences where their peers were presenting long rows of data arrayed in complex charts and referring to this kind of gene or that kind of physiological process, and they themselves were talking instead about the mysterious and magical benefits of people stopping to talk to one another on the street and of having three generations under one roof….No one was used to thinking about health in terms of community” (Outliers p. 10).

    This Christmas season, as I’m inevitably considering the state of our world and where we’re headed, I can’t help but wonder: is it this simple?

    Community, family, support. People supporting people, people uplifting one another, communities looking out for each other. Neighbors waving hi. People engaging with those in their community. Ministering. Fellowship. Is it that simple? Would that fix our world?

    I think it would. I think this is primarily what is missing from our modern-day societies. Love thy neighbor. How about say hi to thy neighbor?

    This holiday season, aim to light the world. Start by dropping off cookies at a neighbor’s house. It might save you from a heart attack.

  • Parenting is Hard and Rewarding: Polar Express

    Parenting is Hard and Rewarding: Polar Express

    We took the girls to Williams for the Polar Express. If you live in Las Vegas or Phoenix, this is a must-do activity if you have children under the age ~9.

    This was Ivy’s third time and Sage’s second time. This trip was for Ivy’s fifth birthday.

    We came into Williams on a Friday. We arrived at the hotel 30 minutes before we were able to check in. So we hung out in the hotel lobby, walking around, writing to Santa, and drinking hot chocolate. We got into our room around 3:00pm, got settled, and started thinking about dinner.

    We went to a restaurant in town then visited the shops. The girls did an awesome job and had a lot of fun.

    We got back to the hotel around 6:15pm.

    Ivy and Sage were setup together on the pull out couch. We put on Bluey and let them watch.

    I’ll recap the next four hours in one word: chaos.

    I don’t want to give all the details. Just know things were not going well. Bedtime is hard.

    Things culminated in me doing something I regretted to Sage. Afterwards, she was lying down on the bed, stoic, sad, unmoving.

    This balance being a dad who is loving, patient, caring, kind, and understanding but also enforcing rules and having a strict expectation for behavior is the most difficult thing to balance.

    I tried to apologize to Sage. I tried to comfort her and tell her I loved her and she was nonresponsive. That is very unlike Sage.

    I proceeded to get a bottle for Wren who was crying.

    Amidst balancing Wren and heating a bottle in the bathroom I heard noise in the hotel room and returned to find Ivy bouncing up and down on the bed, inches from Sage’s head. It was 11pm.

    I lost it.

    I smacked the bed and told her to lie down. I smacked the bed two more times to make sure my point got across. It was loud. Ivy cowered. Ivy cried. I think I woke up Sage.

    I started lecturing Ivy about how she was getting too old for such behavior and she needed to do better. Ivy was crying and saying I owed her an apology over and over. I told Ivy I did not owe her an apology. I looked at Sage, who was now sitting up, and said, “I owe Sage an apology.” Sage gave me a small smile.

    Those moments are so crazy. Why can’t we all be like this?

    “Become as little children” (Matthew 18:3).

    Moments ago she couldn’t look at me. Now she was smiling at me, the cutest, sweetest, most innocent and loving smile.

    I came back to Ivy.

    I started to tell her that we had all not been doing a great job lately. I told her I could be better, Mom could be better, Sage could be better, Wren could be better, and Ivy could be better. I told Ivy that she was my big girl and she had to do better. I then told Ivy she wasn’t perfect. I started to explain that I didn’t expect her to be perfect. I just expected her to do her best. Before I could elaborate, she latched onto that statement that she wasn’t perfect. She started repeating over and over, replacing “you owe me an apology” with “I am perfect.”

    I spoke very intentionally and clearly to Ivy. I reiterated that she wasn’t perfect. She got more upset. But then I told her, “I AM NOT PERFECT.” This made her pause. I told her I was not perfect and I made many mistakes. I told her I wanted to be a good dad and sometimes it was really hard. I told her we all needed to do better. I started to cry.

    I was sitting on the bed near Ivy. Ivy came out from behind her covers and knelt beside me. She wrapped her arms around me, hugged me tight, and said something I hope I never forget.

    She said, “Dad, you are perfect. You’re the best daddy in the whole world.”

    This took my crying to sob levels. Ivy started to cry. But not like she had been, not 5-year-old tantrum or normal crying. She was really crying. She hugged my neck and held onto me and she cried on my shoulder.

    I looked Ivy in the eyes and I told her thank you for what she said.

    She looked back at me and told me she loved me.

    How do we deserve these children?

    I talked more to Ivy about how we all needed to be better and that tomorrow I was going to try to be perfect. She said she was going to be perfect too.

    We went to bed. After all that, as if exhausted from a prize fight, all the girls immediately went to bed.

    The next morning they all woke up like we didn’t just go 10 rounds the night before.

    Children are amazing. Children are special.

    Sage immediately came and started bouncing on me first thing in the morning.

    Throughout that whole day, Ivy did so good. She was kind to her sisters. She was patient, helpful, and mature. She helped her cousins. She was nearly perfect. Throughout the day she would ask me, “Dad, am I being perfect?”

    Yes, I told her. She was.

    I’ve thought a lot about that night since. Do I regret losing my cool? I don’t know. As parents, we want to be awesome, patient, kind all the time. But sometimes, I think a child needs to see you hit a bed. Sometimes kids need to see that we get angry as parents too.

    Would I have had that special moment with Ivy if she hadn’t seen me lose my cool? Would she have had the desire to be “perfect” the next day?

    After losing my cool, it was extra important to be calm and show them extra love (D&C 121:43). This parenting thing is difficult. I’m trying every day to be “perfect.” I’m falling short every day. But I’m grateful for the example of these children. How quickly they forgive, move on, love so willingly and so openly. I hope I can be more like them.

    Except during bedtime.

  • Who was Jesus Christ

    Who was Jesus Christ

    I may have written about this idea before, but given we just celebrated Christmas I’m going to share the thought again.

    If you’re reading this, you chose to come to earth. You don’t remember this choice, but trust me, you did.

    If you’re reading this, you knew to some extent what coming to earth would entail. To be clear, you couldn’t fully understand what you were getting into. But I imagine you knew it would be hard. You knew you would suffer. You knew you would fail.

    Then you discussed an option. Maybe someone could atone for every mistake you would make so you could be forgiven and return home again.

    Someone stepped forward and you accepted Him.

    Who was that person that you put your entire eternal salvation, destiny, and future into? Who did you trust enough to literally put the fate of your soul on the line? Who was this person that you trusted so much, who you knew loved you so intensely, who was so upright, so kind, so seemingly perfect that you actually believed and trusted He would go down and continue to be perfect. You believed He would go down and do something impossible so you could be saved. I assume you knew Him to be so perfect that you believed He could continue to be perfect with all that mortality could throw at Him. Impossible. It seemed impossible and yet you trusted Him.

    Who was this person?

    What was His character?

    What was He like?

    How could He be so magnificent, so powerful, so kind, so loving, so perfect that you were willing to bet your existence on it?

    Who was He?

    Did He know what He was getting into way back then?

    I don’t think He did.

    Matthew 26:39:

    “And he went a little farther, 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.”

    Matthew 26:42:

    “He went away again the second time, and prayed, saying, O my Father, if this cup may not pass away from me, except I drink it, thy will be done.”

    Matthew 27:46:

    “And about the ninth hour Jesus cried with a loud voice, saying, Eli, Eli, lama sabachthani? that is to say, My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?”

    The heavens cried for joy when He accomplished the impossible.

    You cried for joy knowing He accomplished the impossible.

    Did Christ know He would accomplish His mission on earth? Was His faith a perfect knowledge? With the importance of agency, I believe there was a chance that Christ would fail.

    But He didn’t.

    We knew He wouldn’t.

    Who was this character?

    This Being.

    This Entity.

    This Savior.

    This Brother.

    This Person that we so trusted.

    I’m grateful He was born. I’m grateful He accomplished His mission. I’m grateful that He knew I wasn’t going to be perfect and so He did the hard thing for me. I’m grateful for His love. I’m grateful that He loved me so much that He refused to fail, even though it was unimaginably hard. I know He refused to fail because He knew what was at stake.

    Merry Christmas.

  • Possessions in America

    Possessions in America

    *Note – I wrote this in 2021 when video games hadn’t yet become a completely abstract concept.

    When my roommate moved out after living together for 10 years, he left his Wii, controllers, games, fit board, all of it. Not an exorbitant amount of value in the gaming device and equipment. Maybe a couple hundred bucks.

    I’ve since lent that to my family-in-law partly so I can play it when I’m there. I have other gaming consoles at home I can play so it’s nice to have one there to use.

    I believe this is a difference between America and most of the rest of the world.

    We have such an excess of stuff that when we move out, we just leave it.

    We have such of excess of stuff that we leave it at other family’s houses so we can use it while we’re there.

    Most of the rest of the world would sell the console, games, and equipment for a couple hundred dollars which could make a big difference. Here in America, our land of plenty, it’s not worth the hassle.

    I’m not saying this to disparage America. I’m not saying this as an all-encompassing fact either – that because you live in America a couple hundred bucks doesn’t matter.

    What I’m saying is, we should remember how blessed we are. If you have any doubt about your blessed status consider the screen you’re reading this from, the comfortable thing you’re sitting or laying on, your air conditioning, and all the comforts that surround you.

    Christmas just passed and amidst family, and big meals, and presents, and all the excess we have, I hope we don’t forget how lucky we are.

    Let us not take for granted all we have and all we’ve been given.

  • Pain

    Pain

    The other day I banged my knee against a bed frame so hard that I almost threw up. The pain was excruciating. Then I realized, why am I fine? I’m fine because I know the pain will end in the next couple minutes, then I’ll be fine.

    I haven’t experienced tons of physical pain in my life. I’ve been very lucky in that respect. I imagine the worst thing about pain is not knowing when it will end.

    What makes pain bearable is knowing it will end. It’s the not knowing that can be truly excruciating. For example, take even just the pain of a paper cut. If that painful cut was indefinite, meaning you felt the papercut for minutes, then hours, then days, just as intensely as that first moment when the cut happened, it would be horrible. Papercuts aren’t that bad because the pain passes quickly.

    What about when you don’t know when the pain will end?

    I think that’s the worst kind of experience. Again, I haven’t personally gone through that, so I can’t say from experience. But we’ve all heard stories of or know people with some sort of chronic pain. Pain that doesn’t end would be a challenge due to the mental exhaustion along with the physical pain.

    I haven’t even gotten into mental or emotional pain. Those are different categories that can be completely different levels of unbearable.

    If you’ve read a couple of my posts before, you know where this is going: The infinite Atonement of Jesus Christ.

    Did the pain Christ felt in Gethsemane feel infinite? I doubt “infinite” is even close to an adequate word for what Christ felt when he experienced the past, present, and future sins, sufferings, and pains of a universe.

    Luke 22:41-44:

    41 And he was withdrawn from them about a stone’s cast, and kneeled down, and prayed,

    42 Saying, Father, if thou be willing, remove this cup from me: nevertheless not my will, but thine, be done.

    43 And there appeared an angel unto him from heaven, strengthening him.

    44 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.

    I wonder if the uncertainty of time led to the ultimate request, “If thou be willing, remove this cup from me.”

    It’s hard to imagine what Christ felt in those moments. The “infinite” Atonement of Jesus Christ. Did it feel infinite? Did it feel like it would never end? However it felt, it didn’t feel good.

    D&C 19:18:

    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.

    I remind myself daily that Christ suffered what He did because He loves me. I owe Him everything. I’m grateful that He was willing to pay the price of my sins and to feel all my sorrows and pains so He can support and understand everything about me.

    I hope during this Christmas season we remember what Christ did for us and why we celebrate Christmas.