A few years ago, I completely cut football out of my life, cold turkey. It started when I came back to church and realized I didn’t want to be watching football all day on the Sabbath. I would still watch the occasional ASU football game. The only football I kept religiously in my life was Washington State and Mississippi State games. I watched pretty much every one of Mike’s games.
Beth hates football. Football was out of my life by the time we got serious, so football was never an issue. Beth often says she’s so happy I don’t watch football. She really hates it. She hates it so much that, despite knowing it’s family and I have to watch, she even didn’t like watching Mississippi State games. Each week when I’d turn on Mike’s game she’d say “not footballlllll” but then would silently resign herself to the fact that it had to be watched. Whether that entailed sitting through the game or leaving the room was always up to her discretion.
Ivy will watch whatever I watch and enjoy it. It’s something Beth doesn’t quite comprehend. Beth used to fight it, but I think she’s given up. She used to walk into the living room to Ivy and me watching basketball or Impractical Jokers and say, “Ivy doesn’t want to watch this.”
I would always say, “Ivy what do you want to watch?”
“Impractical Jokers” or “dunk it” (code for basketball) would be the immediate reply.
Beth would be flabbergasted. “She doesn’t really want to watch Impractical Jokers. She just says that because she knows you want to watch it.”
Nonetheless, Ivy will sit with me and watch basketball endlessly without complaint.
Part of the reason Ivy loves watching what I want to watch is because I make sure to get her involved in it. When we watch basketball, I try to constantly say, “Ivy did you see that!? He dunked it!” Or, for Impractical Jokers, “Ivy, Joe is so funny, he’s our favorite, huh?” Of course, Joe is our favorite.
My strategy for getting Ivy engaged in football games was obvious. I was fighting Ivy’s = bias against football that was apparently engrained in her DNA from Beth. In the beginning, Ivy seemed to have an intense predisposition against football. My master plan to get Ivy engaged was to point out Uncle Mike every time he showed up on the TV.
We’d watch Mississippi State football games and every sideline shot, interview, video, or moment that Mike showed up in I’d say enthusiastically, “Ivy who is that!?!?”
“Uncle Mike!” She always yelled with excitement.
If football is on the TV, Ivy will still say, “Uncle Mike.” Uncle Mike became to football what “dunk it” is to basketball. But we don’t watch football anymore.
I never watched Mike’s last game against Ole Miss. I kept it recorded and always planned to watch it. Now I’m saving it for a time when I’m prepared to watch and think, remember, consider life and its shortness; think about how Ivy can’t watch football anymore and yell, “Uncle Mike!” Or can she?
It’s sad that Ivy will never get to meet Mike, but he lives on. Every time a football game comes on the TV he lives through Ivy’s, “Uncle Mike.”
When I go through difficult times, for whatever reason that might be, I often find myself thinking to myself a lyric from the song “A Child’s Prayer.”
“Heavenly Father, are you really there?”
I was recently having one of those difficult times and was thinking this phrase.
I went to church that Sunday and said a prayer asking that if there was some guidance I could receive, that I’d hear it. It was a particularly distracted day with Ivy in church. Quick side note, it’s amazing how distracting a toddler can be in church. Ivy is really good in church, and yet I still find it so difficult to focus on the speakers while also making sure she’s ok and entertained.
Despite the normal distractions, I caught a speaker mentioning, “Heavenly Father, are you really there?” I can’t remember in what context. I believe it might have been the youth speaker. I perked up, but that was it, the moment passed.
It was a thoroughly uplifting Sunday that day and I found myself feeling in much better spirits. Still, there were those lingering “difficulties” in the background.
The next day I was with Ivy in her room. I am more and more convinced that Ivy, and probably all children, are still at least 50% angel. The coincidences Ivy causes in my life are too perfect.
I was in her rocking chair on my computer reading and doing stuff while she played. Suddenly she came over to me which isn’t unusual. I put my computer away and pulled out my phone instead. I wanted to look up the songs we had in church the previous day because I had a song stuck in my head but didn’t know it’s name. I pulled up Youtube to play the sacrament song and confirm it was the one stuck in my head.
We listened to the song and then Ivy reached for the phone, again, not something out of the ordinary by any means. She started tapping it with her finger. I saw her click a couple recommended videos that were on the side of the screen and then she pulled her hand away. A video started playing. I didn’t recognize the song (at first). It had a long introduction and then there were images of children with their parents. Children praying with their parents, being tucked in, coloring, playing.
Suddenly it started.
Heavenly Father, are you really there? And do you hear and answer every child’s prayer? Some say that Heaven is far away But I feel it close around me as I pray
“I feel it close around me as I pray” is the part, during times of difficulty, that I struggle with. Because in those times I don’t always feel heaven close around me as I pray.
I started to cry.
The song continued.
Heavenly Father, I remember now Something that Jesus told disciples long ago “Suffer the children to come to me” Father, in prayer I’m coming now to thee
I looked at Ivy.
Then the song continued.
Pray, He is there Speak, He is listening You are His child His love now surrounds you He hears your prayer He loves the children Of such is the kingdom, the kingdom of Heaven
It had been so long since I’d heard the full song I truly didn’t remember that part. And when I heard it, it was so clear. It was so clear. In moments of challenge I remember the part, “Heavenly Father, are you really there?” But I’d forgotten the part, “He is there. Speak, He is listening. You are His child. His love now surrounds you. He hears your prayer.”
I remembered.
Sometimes it’s so hard to hear Him. Sometimes it’s so hard to remember He is there.
Then He reminds you.
I want to remind everyone reading. He is there. Speak, He is listening.
The world can yell at me that it was a complete coincidence that Ivy somehow brought up that song that I’ve never listened to before on Youtube. I say, that’s ridiculous. I needed to be reminded that my Father was there and listening, and so he reminded me. Through my angel.
I’m grateful for Him. I’m grateful for all my angels.
In November of 2019 I started meditating every morning. I’m not doing anything real impressive. I spend the first 10 minutes of every day laying on my back on the ground. I started by listening to guided meditations on YouTube. Now I have the Calm App on my phone which I highly recommend. I rotate between guided meditations and simply laying with my eyes closed, in prayer and thought. Early on I found meditation to be extremely beneficial. My days would start off right. I would be calmer and more patient with any challenge that arose throughout the day. I know this is hard to gauge and measure. Maybe I wasn’t calmer or more patient, but I felt more calm and patient. That has to be almost as good.
When I started meditating, I immediately noticed answers to prayers. Those 10 minutes have become the most important 10 minutes of my day. I look forward to that time to spend with my own thoughts and with God. It’s an opportunity to slow down and think about what I want to accomplish; in life and for that day. It’s time to stop and consider all that I have to be grateful for.
I think I’ve written about his before, but when I was coming back to church, initially a big help was basketball on weekend mornings. For years my weekends were spent out late. When I was trying to stop drinking and stop going out as much, Saturday morning (7am) basketball became critical. It was something I could look forward to. It motivated me to stay in on a Friday night so I could get up early and play. I also played Sunday mornings. They were my two favorite days every week.
Weekend Warrior
Sunday morning basketball never conflicted with church. I was in the Young Single Adult Ward which didn’t meet until 1pm. I could easily play 7am-10am and have a few hours to shower, relax, read, study, and pray before church began.
One Sunday morning I got up to play like I always did. I was walking around my room getting dressed. It was time to walk out the door to leave so I bent over to pick up my gym bag. As I started to stand up the craziest thing happened. My back completely gave out. Luckily, I was near my bed (which still resided on box springs on the floor, like I liked it) so I literally fell sideways onto my bed. I was in excruciating pain. I called my mom and she said to take some ibuprofen, the basic mom guidance stuff. I still had it in my mind that I could go play. I was 26 years old, surely, I didn’t actually throw my back out…right? I quickly realized, I did.
Me that weekend
As I laid in my bed, I wondered what to do. I loved reading my scriptures, especially Sunday mornings after basketball and before church. So, I pulled out my scriptures and continued to read where I’d left off in the book of Alma.
I remember reading the story of the sons of Mosiah that morning in Alma 17-27. I remember being struck by one thing: the sons of Mosiah were offered the kingdom. They were each individually asked to be the king of their people. They were asked to rule, to have power, to have the comforts and honors of the world given to them for the rest of their life. Instead, they chose to forsake worldly possessions and go on a mission to the Lamanites. One by one they chose to reject kingship and go to a land of people that were open about their desire to kill any Nephite that came into their presence, let alone a Nephite set to inherit the Nephite kingdom.
What inspired Ammon and his brothers, the sons of Mosiah to forsake the kingdom and instead choose to preach the gospel? They saw an angel. I can’t describe exactly what happened to me that day, studying in my bed. Something happened. I was so filled with the spirit. I felt like I was floating. It was the most uplifting and edifying scripture study I’d ever had. I grew so much that morning. I haven’t played basketball on a Sunday since. That morning, along with learning so much about the sons of Mosiah and who I wanted to be, I also learned the value of keeping the Sabbath day holy.
I don’t think basketball was the worst thing to do on a Sunday morning, far from it. I think those first few months of Sunday morning basketball had a huge impact on me and helped me stay away from activities it was important for me to stay away from at that time. That morning though, I came to a crossroad. The temptations of prior months had lessened. I was immersing myself in the scriptures and praying daily. That morning I learned how much I could gain on Sunday mornings.
I haven’t played basketball on a Sunday since that morning I threw my back out. Instead, every Sunday morning I try to pray, read, and study. My study isn’t as good as it has been in the past, I can always improve. But, staying in on Sunday, preparing for church, praying, pondering my blessings, being with my wife, has become my favorite part of every week.
In November 2019 I started meditating every morning. I meditate 7 days a week. There’s a strange phenomenon I’ve experienced during this time. I meditate every single day. But, on Sundays, something is different. I don’t meditate with the hopes of becoming emotional. I enjoy it when it happens. I enjoy feeling the spirit so strongly that, as I lay on the ground in gratitude to my Heavenly Father, tears sometimes come to my eyes. It happens every so often. What I’ve noticed is it happens mostly on Sundays.
Without fail, as I lay and meditate on Sundays, I will be moved by the grace of Jesus Christ and the love of my Heavenly Father. I will contemplate the Atonement of my Savior. I’ll consider the suffering He went through for me. I’ll think about where I’ve been and where I am now. I’ll wonder how God can love us so much.
Grace of Christ
I bear testimony that Sunday is a special day. It’s not special because it’s specifically Sunday. That’s the day we, our society, have set aside as a day to worship. It could be Monday or Friday, doesn’t matter. What matters is it’s a day for the Lord. It’s important because it’s a day set aside for God. He has given us all our days, our lives, what is one day a week in return? I know that the Sabbath day is a special day. I know it holds power. I know it gives rejuvenating strength in a world that unceasingly sucks our spiritual resolve from us throughout the week. I know it because I’ve experienced it.
I would invite everybody to spend some time every Sunday morning in prayer. I promise you will feel something special. The Sabbath day is profound. Keep it holy. It was a long journey for me to truly appreciate the power of the Sabbath. I know that we’re blessed for keeping the Sabbath holy. In the scriptures, keeping the Sabbath is said to be what separates God’s people from the world. Keep the Sabbath holy and I promise God will pour out blessings on you. I know because he has on me.
No Coincidences 