No Coincidences

Tag: friend

  • The Greatest Gift Man can Receive in Mortality

    The Greatest Gift Man can Receive in Mortality

    The Holy Ghost is the Holy Spirit; he is the Holy Spirit promised the saints at baptism, or in other words the Holy Spirit of Promise, this exalted name-title signifying that the promised receipt of the Holy Spirit, as on the day of Pentecost, is the greatest gift man can receive in mortality.

    Bruce R. McConkie

    I recently read this quote and the truth of the statement hit me.  This seemed a fitting thought after last week’s post talking about the gift the gospel has been in my life. I believe that quote is a powerful reminder for those of us who have been blessed with this great gift.  The gospel is a blessing in part due to this great gift, the gift of the Holy Ghost. 

    I can’t wait to teach Ivy of this most extraordinary gift and to watch her receive it for herself.  I know the Holy Ghost is a guiding force and has blessed my life more than I will ever understand while on this earth.  One day I will know.

    I’m grateful for this constant companion (D&C 121:46), this friend, this comforter.  I am never alone when the Holy Ghost is within me.  What a blessing that gift is.  The greatest in this life.

    WORD FOR THE DAY-03JAN17 | Living Waters
  • RIP Coach

    RIP Coach

    I often think about the people God put around me in my life.  I’m obviously not the center of the universe, but sometimes, when I think about all those who have looked out for me throughout my life, it’s hard not to feel like that.

    There’s an individual in my life who played a critical role at two of the most important junctures in my life.  He was a dear friend, coach, mentor. 

    What’s so funny is, Coach Gonzalez never actually coached me.  Jessie Gonzalez was the athletic director at my high school.  Coach Gonzalez got close with most of the teams he looked over as athletic director.  The basketball program was no exception.

    My senior year at Cimarron we went to a tournament in Hawaii.  Coach Gonzalez came on that trip to “watch” us, or chaperone, I guess.  On that trip, Coach Gonzalez went from Coach Gonzalez to Gonzo, or just Coach.

    Gonzo looked out for me throughout high school.  Many don’t know this now, but I needed a lot of looking out for at that time. 

    I had bonded with Gonzo a bit on the Hawaii trip, but he wasn’t someone I would have considered a close friend or confidant.  That is until I really, really needed someone to talk to.  Then he was there, at the most difficult time of my life.  Somehow, for reasons I won’t understand until I see the bigger picture, Gonzo was the phone call I made.  He helped me through some very difficult things. I look forward to speaking to God, and Him showing me how critical that moment was.  I look forward to seeing why Gonzo was there at that precise moment, and why God made sure I reached out to him.

    We stayed in loose contact as I left high school.

    Gonzo had a few of us he took under his wing and looked out for.  I felt truly blessed to be “one of his boys.”

    After high school, this fascinating thing happened where the roles Gonzo played in my life morphed.  He went from 100% mentor to 50% mentor and 50% friend.  Gonzo was only 11 years older than me.  Not that many years, in the grand scheme. 

    In 2015 I went to a birthday party in Houston.  It was a relative of Gonzo’s and made no sense for me to be there.  It was really just an excuse to go to Houston and see Gonzo, who had moved to Michigan, and I hadn’t seen since high school.  That trip is so memorable.  I’m not going to elaborate any further.  During that trip Gonzo stayed a 50% mentor but also became one of my closest friends, a lifelong friend.

    The second, extremely critical cross roads in my life-  I was trying to return to church.  Who did I turn to?  Who talked me through a year plus of difficulty, repentance, trials, temptations, questions, doubts, uncertainties?  Countless hours were spent on the phone with him.  He was going to see me through.

    Gonzo isn’t a member of my church.  He’s a member of a grander organization.  He’s a brother and an angel that was here to look over me and guide me.  I’m not sure I’d be an active member of my church today without his guidance. That was the power of Coach.  He didn’t need to be a member of my church to help me with something so important.  He only needed to listen, love me, help me.

    Another moment I’ll never forget, I was only a couple months into trying to return into activity in the Church.  Satan was hard at work in those first months.  I could go on and on about what he put before me during those months.

    One of those temptations was a staycation at my favorite place at the time, Talking Sticks Resort.  I was still playing poker.  During this weekend that TSR gave me a free suite to stay in, there was a huge summer pool party.  My room overlooked the pool, of course.

    Imagine me for a moment.  Just a couple months into not drinking.  Here I am at Talking Stick Resort, in a super nice room, overlooking a pool filled with beautiful people and all my temptations.  I was literally in the great and spacious building.  I had alcohol in the fridge.  For those who don’t know this feeling, I can’t describe the pull.  I don’t have words to describe the need to drink alcohol, go to the pool, let myself fully embrace this staycation.

    I had worked so hard.  I was going to church and making good choices.  Surely, I could give myself this one weekend, right?

    I was going to drink and join this party.  There was really no doubt.  As much as I told myself I wouldn’t, I was going to. 

    I can’t remember if I called him.  There’s a chance he called me.  I talked to Coach Gonzo.  In true Jessie fashion, he didn’t tell me not to drink.  He talked me through it.  He told me it was a choice I had to make.  He reminded me how hard I’d worked to return to church and stop drinking.

    Then, almost nonchalantly, as if an afterthought, Coach said the most critical thing.  He said, “You can drink and get wild and crazy, but man, after not drinking for as long as you’ve gone, tomorrow is going to suck.  That hangover is going to be bad.  Hangover aside, how are you going to feel about yourself in the morning?”

    That was all I needed to hear.

    For those wondering, I did join the pool party.  I hung out, walked around.  I didn’t embrace the party.  I owe Jessie, Coach, Gonzo for that.  I may owe him my now 5 years of sobriety.

    Jessie Gonzalez left this stage of his coaching journey 6/8/21.  He had some new people to coach and mentor, and he couldn’t do that here.  I will miss him dearly.  I already wonder who I will turn to when I need to be guided through the next trial.  Part of me thinks he could move on because he already got me to the point where I can take care of myself.  Maybe, just maybe, I didn’t need him anymore. The greater and more comforting truth is that you always need a mentor and friend like Gonzo, and he’s still there for me, more than ever now.

    He was light.  And he was joy.  Nobody brought together a room like him. 

    He protected me from harm while here, both physically and spiritually.

    I thought of something interesting last night.  It hit me that Gonzo likely, just recently, had his life review.  It brought me so much joy to think of him getting to see all the good he had done.  I considered him getting to see every moment he impacted me and how big a role he played in my life.  I thought about the net of goodness and light he spread while he was here.

    It brought a smile to my face to know that he got to see his Savior.  He was embraced, and loved, and free from the difficulties of this world.

    He can coach in purity now, for, a purer heart there never was. 

    I miss him a lot now. Though I can’t hear his voice or see his face, he’ll continue to be with me, coaching from above. I look forward to the reunion.

    I love you Jessie, Coach, Gonzo, and I thank you for all you did for me.

  • You Sent a Dog to Save a Girl

    You Sent a Dog to Save a Girl

    *I wrote this to my wife when she lost her family dog and best friend of the previous 12 years.*

    You sent a dog to save a girl.  I have never gotten a full story.  I’ve never heard a full account.  I have seen the love in her eyes.  I’ve seen her hug and care for and love a creature with so much love.  It’s love I know she’ll one day pour out upon a child tenfold.  It’s maybe what drew me to her in the first place.  Her obvious ability to love and care for others.  She will be an amazing mother partly due to a dog.

    I’ve only known that dog to be old.  I’ve only known the whines and the cries.  The confusion.  From my eyes he has been ready for a long while.  But he wouldn’t let her go.  He knew she still needed him.  I saw a puppy in pictures.  I saw a puppy in her eyes every time she laid with him and pet his curly black fur.  I saw love for a dog that never left her.  I saw my wife, with so much capacity to love, unable to stop loving a dog that couldn’t stop loving her.

    I never heard of every night.  I know they existed.  The nights that she cried.  The nights she felt so alone.  The nights that she thought, “why did I upend my life, to what end?”  I know there were many tear-filled nights.  I had to go through the same.  I had a roommate and a best friend some of those nights, so I know.  I know what comfort is in those moments.  I know that on every tear-filled night there was a furry, black, kind creature that wouldn’t leave her side.  I know this because I’ve seen the love she holds for an animal that saved her life. 

    I will never understand the full extent of the bond between my wife and this dog.  I’ve only seen an animal that can hardly see or move, let alone play.  I see the love in her eyes, and I know he used to play.  He always comforted.  He was always there for her.

    Now his time has come.  I know this will be one of the hardest things my wife ever goes through.  Maybe the hardest thing since she changed her whole life to come back home.  He was there for her then.  He can’t be there for her anymore.  I know he’s been waiting.  He’s been waiting for me.  I now must replace the perfect, never ending, never ceasing, never decreasing love and devotion of your creature.  He wouldn’t leave her.  Now he must.  I’ll love her and care for her to the best of my ability.  I hope to come close to the love of a dog for his girl.

    I don’t know where my wife would be without a fluffy, black dog.  I don’t know if I ever would have met her.  In a million ways we would have never crossed paths.  If not for a dog, she wouldn’t be in my life.  If not for the many nights of comfort when she didn’t know if she could do it.  If not for every time he nuzzled her tears and begged for a pat on the head.  If not for his love, who knows where my wife would be?

    You knew my wife needed a dog.  You sent the perfect one.

    Now it’s his time to move on.  I’m sure it means there’s a child or an individual who needs him more.  You sent an angel in a fluffy, black, four-legged body to bring light to a home and to a young girl.  Now he’s needed elsewhere.  I pray only that I can love her as he loved her.  Support her as he supported her.  Comfort her as he comforted her. 

    You are a Father who loves us so much.  You send creatures to save our lives.  You love us in many ways, including through the loving eyes of a puppy.

    You sent Parley to save my wife.
    Thank you.

  • The Inspiration

    The inspiration:  Where to begin…

    So, here we are.  I’m writing a blog.  Who am I writing to?  Is this like a journal entry?  I guess I’m writing in first person, so here we go.

    A little back story, I am not a writer.  I like writing. I really enjoy writing. And boy, do I feel I have some thoughts to share!  Will anyone else want to read my thoughts?  Not sure.  Thoughts are like your own new toy. Will anyone else appreciate it as much as you do given they won’t get to spend as much time with it as you?  I’ve thought about doing this for a long time, if simply to get the jumble of constant thoughts out of my head. And maybe, just maybe, put it somewhere for others to enjoy, or at least gain something from.

    I’m going to go deep on this “why I’m writing a blog,” so get ready.

    Three years ago, I started reading a book.  The book is called Visions of Glory by John Pontius.  This book had come into my possession through a sequence of events that I consider a miracle to this day.  Though small and seemingly not that crazy, these events led me to a book, and that book changed my life. 

    My mom was at my grandparents’ house.  My mother is adamant that she needs a television to fall asleep to.  She literally doesn’t sleep without tv.  Which is why this night at my grandparents’ home, she was not sleeping.  There was no television in the bedroom. The HORROR!  She noticed a book on the bedside table.  She picked it up, she read the introduction.  She was so intrigued by this book that the next day she promptly contacted me and said she was sending me the book because she’d never have time to read it but knew I would.

    Fun fact – this wasn’t my mom’s book. She stole it.  It was my Aunt Laura’s book that she’d given to my grandmother.  She may have let them know she was taking the book. I don’t know. The details are fuzzy. 

    Anyway, now I have this book (just a heads up- get used to the story bouncing all over the place. Sorry, I can’t change the way my mind functions). Nothing extraordinary.  Just a book.  I started reading.  Almost immediately, I had to put it down and put it somewhere I couldn’t see it.  You see, I was going to Mexico in a couple weeks.  I’m talking MEXICO, Mexico.  Like, beer all day, I’ll just leave it at that.  But this trip had been planned.  I think 9 of us were going and it was going to be a party.

    As I started reading the book, I knew what was happening.  Something inside me was stirring awake.  This couldn’t happen now, Mexico was waiting.  I hid the book.  I went to Mexico.  But something was different.  I wasn’t the same.  It would have been the best party week of my life. All the ingredients were there but I don’t think I even enjoyed it.

    I came home and I started reading.  One memorable moment or “coincidence”, as I’ll refer to it, was reading about addiction.  The book discussed how people couldn’t feel the spirit or progress when they were dulling their feelings with liquor or drugs.  That’s what I’d been doing for years.  As I was reading, I was suddenly starving. I’d been reading outside, on my balcony, so I went inside to make a pizza.  My roommate Chris was watching a sports show and, for some completely random reason, Danny Trejo was being interviewed.  He was talking about the day he quit alcohol and drugs.  He met with a therapist and the therapist said he couldn’t be who he wanted to be until he gave up his vices.  I went outside and continued to read.  I cried.  Then, like any normal Friday night, I poured myself some scotch and started playing cards with Chris. 

    Let me be clear. To this day I claim I never wasted an ounce of alcohol.  One time in college, we had tons of leftover beer from a game we played.  The beer was in open cups and I put them in the fridge and drank them over the next few days.  You want to talk about the most disgusting, kind of pathetic, but also (just going to say it) a bit admirable thing that’s ever been done? It was that.

    So, I drank some of the scotch and I wasn’t feeling it.  No problem. I opened a beer.  I will never forget the moment I realized, “I don’t want this.”  I was someone who never wasted a drop.  I binge drank at least 2 days a week.  On weekdays, I’d drink enough to be sick in the morning but still able to go to work.  I had a problem I never wanted to admit.  It was a constant fear of mine that I’d never stop.  I’m sure if I continued the way I was going, I would slowly poison my body to death.

    That day I drank half a beer and decided, I don’t want this.  I poured it out.  Four years ago – almost exactly four years ago-I had my last sip of alcohol.  I didn’t know that would be the last sip, but it was.  When I say that book saved my life, what I mean is that God and Jesus Christ put that book in my life, and I fought it (see: MEXICO).  I felt the change, and I fought it.  I read the book and my spirit cried out.  I cried out.  God and Jesus Christ never gave up on me.

    The next week I decided I wanted to go to church.  I was scared.  I didn’t know where to start.  “I CAN’T DO THIS.”  A postcard came in the mail.  It’s been four years and as I write this I’m still overwhelmed with emotion.  I have to fight back tears when I think of the moment that I received that postcard.

    It was from a dear friend.  She was not raised in the church but had been baptized years prior.  We had kept in contact throughout my years of debauchery.  We were close friends.  When I’d visit home, I could see she remembered when I had some moral compass I seemingly no longer had.  She remembered when I didn’t drink.  She remembered when I carried more light.  Every time I’d see her she’d ask when I was going back to church.  Every time I saw her she’d ask when I was going to stop drinking.  Every time I brushed her off and made her change the subject.  She was persistent, I was stubborn. 

    As I so desired to go back to church but didn’t know where to start, I got a postcard in the mail.  I’d never received a postcard from her before and haven’t since.  She was in Oregon for some reason.  The postcard read,

    “Hey Quackenbush!  I thought a random postcard was just the ticket to keep this like 8 year relationship functioning. LOL Did you watch any conference?  I liked Elder Hallstrom’s. How’s life?  Still working your way up the corporate ladder?  Did you watch Finding Carter to the end?  Did you know your father in Heaven loves you?  Did you know I do too? : )”

    …..

    I called her that night.  I told her I wanted to go back to church.  The whirlwind that ensued was astonishing.  It was like she’d been waiting for this moment for years. I guess she had.  If she had a checklist of steps to take for when she received this call, I wouldn’t be surprised.  Next thing I know I was a member of a Facebook page called Scottsdale YSA Ward Events.  I had my new Bishop’s phone number and an appointment for the next week.  I had an address and time to be at church that Sunday.  I think I told her I wasn’t ready to meet the Bishop.  She cancelled the meeting and said she highly recommended I see him soon.   

    That Sunday I went to church.  I’d tried going to church over the past few years.  I’d had missionaries over to my house a few times.  It just never stuck.  Chris went with me since I told him I was too afraid to go alone.  At church that day something monumental occurred.  A guy sitting in front of me turned around and asked me if I played basketball.  He said he was starting in a league and asked if I wanted to join his team.  He knew nothing about me.  He didn’t even know if I could dribble.  That guy ended up being the Elders Quorum President at the time and he changed my life.  Many people those first couple months had an impact on my life that they, and myself, don’t completely understand yet.  I look forward to looking back on those months in every detail and being able to thank those individuals. 

    Why am I writing a blog?

    I guess because I feel I have a lot to say?  The real, final push came from another blog.  UnBlog my Soul was a blog started by John Pontius.  The man I never met, but the man who changed my life forever.  He passed away in 2012, yet his words continue to impact me.  I believe after his death his wife continued his blog in his honor.  I recently was on the website and saw that she was closing shop.  No more new posts on UnBlog my Soul.  Why?  Because she wanted others to start blogs.  Others to impact lives.  Others to tell their stories. 

    It seemed fitting that the wife of the man that brought me back to Christ, was telling me to do something I’d felt prompted to do for years.  Now I’m writing a blog.  It will have a lot of stories.  It will have a lot of thoughts.  Some will (hopefully) be short.  Many will be long, confusing trains of thought.  As you might be able to tell, there will be strong religious tones to my writing.  Input is welcomed, critical and otherwise.  The spirit works in miraculous ways.  I know that from personal experience.  Hopefully this is meant to help just one person.  For the worth of souls is great in the sight of the Lord.  And if you cry repentance all your life and bring one soul unto Him how great shall be your joy with him in the home of our Father?  How great will be my joy with John Pontius, that elder’s quorum president, that friend that never gave up on me, and Jesus Christ.

    Edit 12/19/21- Please see Why “No Coincidences” for an update on why I continue to do this blog. It’s not easy writing every day and sharing every week. That is why I do it. Thank you for reading.