The Mourning Dove was one of my favorite books of 2020. It’s the first book I made Beth read. I read it in 2 days which isn’t much to brag about at only 84 pages.
The inside cover reads:
“A tender story of growing up, exploring life, exploring life, and discovering the boundaries and the defining moments of love.”
The back cover reads:
“The Mourning Dove is heart touching. It penetrates your soul and makes you glad to be alive.”
-Mark Victor Hansen, co-author of Chicken Soup for the Soul
This story is so good, so uplifting, so all the good things. I will put it at the top of books I would recommend to someone. It’s especially easy to recommend because it’s such a quick and easy read. I know people are increasingly busy and it’s hard to find time to sit down and read a long book. This book is short and sweet. You will finish it feeling like you’ve grown immensely after spending time with Pop, the main character’s grandpa.
After finishing the book, I wanted to write a screenplay. This book would make such a good movie. The message in it is simple. The story of a young boy learning adult lessons is timeless.
I had no idea Larry Barkdull wrote another book I loved titled Zion: Seeking the City of Enoch. Mr. Barkdull has an easy-going writing style that I enjoy because it’s not so difficult to follow. His stories flow and are combined with good messages. I’ve walked away from both his books feeling like I’ve learned something about life and myself.
I can’t say enough good things about this book. It can be found online for like a dollar. Buy it. You won’t regret it.
Sadly, while looking up information about this book I learned that Larry Barkdull passed away in 2016. I’d like to share this from his obituary:
Many will remember him as their gospel doctrine teacher, home teacher and friend, as he tended to the needs of those he loved. Larry also served weekly in the temple as an ordinance worker, a calling he cherished. Above all else, Larry’s greatest joy was his family. The only title he wished to follow his name was D.A.D. He left his family a legacy of great faith and leaves a hole that can never be filled. Words cannot express the least of what we feel. We love you. Our hearts are broken, but we know we will be together again.”
I don’t know how you can read that without a tear coming to your eye. Mr. Barkdull was clearly an inspired and important individual sent for an important purpose in God’s plan. I’m grateful I got to see a glimpse into his soul through his writing.
Ivy is the first grandchild on both sides. Ivy has 13 aunts and uncles. She has two sets of grandparents who, while around her, make no qualms about her being the princess of the universe and most important thing to ever come to earth. As I watch her with family, I’m blown away by the amount of love. She is loved so much. Beth and I love her so much. See The Greatest Moment of My Life Every Day for further evidence.
I wonder how much this love positively impacts Ivy’s future. How much does it impact the person she will become?
As I watch her, something occurred to me recently. I was surrounded by this same love growing up. I wasn’t the first grandchild on either side, but I was surrounded by aunts, uncles, cousins, parents, and grandparents that loved and adored me. Love was poured out upon me without measure as a baby. Not only was I loved by those I could see, but I was made to know that God and so many I couldn’t see also loved and cared about me.
While watching Ivy, it occurred to me how lucky and blessed I was to be surrounded by all that love.
How much was I positively impacted by the love I was surrounded by? How much did it shape who I am today?
Not all children are given this great gift.
It was a humbling thought. It’s humbling to consider all that I’ve been given. If I ever get prideful about any good qualities I may have, I can quickly look at all the attention, direction, and love I’ve been given in my life and realize there is nothing to be prideful of. I have been afforded much.
This used to be a daunting scripture. Now it is a great responsibility, and a great blessing.
As I’ve gotten older, I have become more aware of how blessed I was to be raised with the light of the gospel of Jesus Christ in my life. That is why I write this blog. That is why I try to talk to friends, family, coworkers, etc. about the Book of Mormon. That’s why I share my testimony of Jesus Christ.
I am grateful for The Family A Proclamation to the World for what is teaches authoritatively and without reservation about the importance of the family unit. My family unit has blessed my life in so many ways. I wish every child could be loved like I was, like I still am, like Ivy is.
God expects me to share the love I’ve been given. Not in a prideful way, but with a humble recognition of how lucky I truly am.
The two great commandments are to love and to love. When you receive love, you must give love. That’s what God asks from us.
Tomorrow is the three-year anniversary of my Aunt Laura passing away. Laura was an inspiration to everyone she met. She had a profound impact on my life.
I want to share a little about her and why she was so special.
Laura was diagnosed with cancer when I was younger. As long as I can remember, Laura had cancer. When I first found out, it was scary, but I was young and didn’t understand. When Laura was still there year after year I really didn’t understand. What was so scary? She clearly wasn’t going anywhere, she was as healthy as ever. I’m pretty sure within a year of her first being diagnosed my next memory of Laura was her, my mom, and another aunt going on a sling shot carnival ride. I remember thinking, “clearly she’s ok.”
It wasn’t until I was older that I learned and better understood what Laura went through for many years. She was diagnosed with cancer at a young age, I believe she was 28. She wasn’t expected to live too long. It’s amazing to think that I’m 30 now. Two years older than she was when she was told she wouldn’t have much longer to live. I feel invincible every day. Death is not something that crosses my mind (see Facing Death for the exception to the rule). The thought of truly coming to terms with my mortality tomorrow is daunting.
Cancer made Laura live life with a fervor that was powerful to witness. She lived every moment to its fullest. She went to school to get (more) degrees, she travelled, she wrote, she served. She spent every moment in the most worthwhile way.
When I would visit her, I would want to relax, watch movies, read. She was a big fan of reading, but relaxing, watching movies? Not going to happen. I’ll share a story I told at her funeral.
It was 2011 and I was visiting Utah. I was staying with Laura and my Uncle Jon for a few days. See You Sent a Dog to Comfort a Boy and Jonah and the Whale posts for more details on this all-important trip in my life. Laura used a pass she had for me to do a free skiing class. I had never been on snow with a board or skis in any capacity. After the class we were able to go up the mountain. Remember, this is my first time ever on skis. We’re going up and I’m seeing signs about diamonds and circles and squares. I don’t know what it all means. Laura explains Black Diamonds are the hardest. We’re heading towards a Black Diamond. I don’t even know how to get off a ski lift.
Garrick and Laura skiing
I voiced some concern about this, and she told me to quit worrying, I’d be fine. So, my first time ever on a mountain and I’m doing Black Diamonds. How could I possibly argue? Here’s my aunt in her 40’s daring me to say something so she could call me all sorts of wimpy and scared.
We started down the mountain and I was having a rough go. I was up and down constantly. I was spending more time on my back than on my skis. I hadn’t mastered stopping yet so whenever I gained speed I would fall to keep from losing control. Laura, meanwhile, was the epitome of consistency. Left to right… left to right… slow and steady. She’d get way ahead of me then stop and watch me clumsily fall down the mountain.
When we finished, I was exhilarated. It was the most fun I’d ever had. I loved the mountain. We were driving home and I called my mom. I excitedly told her about the day. When I mentioned Laura and I went down the mountain together she yelled over the speaker, “Moofy you what?!?!” Moofy was Laura’s nickname. I learned that Laura had recently had pelvic surgery on her pelvic bone that had shattered. I don’t think she was supposed to leave the house. Her consistent nature down the mountain was partly to protect her frail bones from any potential impact from falling. In fact, if she fell, she likely would have broken multiple bones.
I learned something that day that I’ll never forget. Laura was consistent, smooth, never wavering. She was steadfast until the end. She was always an example of strength and perseverance. They were qualities I admired in her. The other thing I learned was that Aunt Laura was never going to let anything slow her down. She didn’t care if she was supposed to stay in bed, she wanted to ski with her nephew. No wonder she had no sympathy for my worry about Black Diamonds. I was young, healthy, the worst that was going to happen to me was a sore backside by the end. She had the real possibility of a shattered bone with any fall. What did I have to worry about?
That is one of my fondest memories. Laura taught me so much and I’m forever grateful for the example she was to me. It brings me so much comfort to know she’s now moved on from my angel here on earth to my guardian angel in heaven. I know she’s very busy up there because someone with her will, faith, and drive is being put to work by Heavenly Father. But, in times when I’m in the most need, I will pray for Heavenly Father to spare her for a brief moment to be with and comfort me. When I make this request, it warms my heart to know she’s quickly coming to my side. I am excited to one day see her again and thank her for all she did for me here.
Love you, Aunt Laura.
Rest in peace doesn’t work for you so instead I’ll say, keep busy, and I’ll see you soon.
The greatest moment of my life happens every morning. By that I mean, almost every day I have a new moment that is the new best moment of my entire life. It’s awesome.
I start work early every morning. I’m already up and working (hopefully) when Ivy starts to wake up. Beth has the monitor by the bed, so I can hear when Ivy starts to stir.
When I see Ivy in the morning, her face is the most pure form of joy I’ve ever seen. In turn, that brings me the most joy I’ve ever experienced. Seeing her light up and grin ear to ear and be SO happy, it’s indescribable.
I can imagine her thinking, “Oh, you’re still here! This is amazing! You’re still my dad! I’m so glad to see you!”
That’s what her smile says to me.
This parenting thing is super hard. It’s beyond exhausting (more to come on that in the next post). There’s a lot of stress and pressure. The life of a tiny human is in our hands, after all.
But that moment where Ivy smiles at me in the morning, makes this, without question, the best experience of life.
I write this with as much humility as possible. Fully knowing and understanding my weaknesses have given me perspective. It is my faults and errors that make me feel like I can write this letter.
I remember when I came back to church I was asked to not take the sacrament for three weeks. It was one of the more difficult things I had to do, although it doesn’t sound like much. I think it was the moment I realized I had changed. Something that in the past might not have affected me too much, really hurt. It was difficult coming back and immediately feeling like maybe I’m not enough. Maybe I could have gone the route of resentment. Instead I realized how much I didn’t want to have to go through that again.
I don’t in any way imply I’m better than someone who can’t take the sacrament and does feel resentment. We all have our own paths. Mine was of being completely away, coming back, and realizing I deserved my three weeks. Some are never officially away so that state of probation seems unfair or not right. I understand that.
This is my letter to the sinner. A reminder, that includes all of us. This is the sinner who has made mistakes. This particular sinner might come from a perfect family and part of their struggle is feeling like they don’t fit in in the one place they should feel welcome. This sinner might feel judged by the very people that should love them the most. It doesn’t matter if those family, friends, and caring loved ones are right or wrong. It matters how the sinner interprets things. We all live our own experiences and encounter the world in different ways. We must, to the best our abilities, see the world in perfect light and perfect truth.
Here is my letter to a hypothetical sinner:
You will never be like the “perfect” people you see around you. You won’t. Your path has been set. Your path has been set partly by different “luck,” different experiences. Partly by your choices. My life was set by very bad choices. But now that I’ve come out of the other side, my joy is greater than I could have ever imagined. You won’t be “perfect”, but you’ll be who Heavenly Father sees you can be. You won’t be “better” than those who never made the mistakes you made, but you might be stronger. Your path will lead you somewhere wholly different. And if you decide you want to come through to the other side: to truly know your Savior, to know forgiveness, to know what being welcomed home feels like even if you don’t think you’ll ever deserve it – if you come to that other side with that relationship with your Savior, your testimony will be welded in steel, as hard as diamond. You’ll have gone through the refiner’s fire and come out united with He who gives all strength. This is no excuse to continue to sin. You know the light. You’ve seen and felt the light. I knew the light and I turned from it. I hope to help anyone not make the same mistake.
You will make mistakes. You will sin. But no matter what, you have to remember Jesus Christ. Because while the world will judge you and you’ll have to struggle with that, He will judge you with a perfect love and comprehension. Remember that those around you are trying to judge you with love. They’re trying to love you righteously. Jesus Christ doesn’t try. He is perfect love. Don’t forget it. Don’t forget that those around you whose points of view you can’t understand, they’re trying to be like Jesus Christ. They may be falling short. But that’s not for you to judge. Just as they can’t judge you, you can’t judge their intentions or efforts. Just love and do your best.
I’m sorry you have to go through trials. But do not lose sight of Jesus Christ. Do not. He is the only person true peace can come from. Whatever you do, whatever mistakes you make, do not forget HIM. He won’t forget you. I promise.
At this point I must apologize. Throughout this letter I’ve referred to you as “the sinner.” I know that phrase hurt the whole way through. I know it because I’ve felt it. I did it throughout the whole letter to get to this point. I want to remind you, “sinner” is not who you are. It will never be who you are. We all sin but that’s not what God and Jesus Christ see in us. No matter how many mistakes we make. No matter how many slip ups or downright wrong things you do, you are not a sinner. You are a child of Heavenly Father. You are growing. You are learning. I reiterate something I said earlier, this does not excuse your sin. Sin is wrong, you know that. Christ will see your sin. What means much more to Him is your repentance. He doesn’t see who you were but who you will be.
“God cares a lot more about who we are and who we are becoming than about who we once were. He cares that we keep trying.”
Elder Dale G. Renlund in April 2015 Conference talk “Latter-day Saints Keep on Trying”
No Coincidences 