No Coincidences

Tag: world

  • Discipline, Sharks, and Freedom

    Discipline, Sharks, and Freedom

    I watched a video recently. You can watch it here:

    In the video, some surfers are complaining about a barrier in the ocean. They’d travelled for a once in a lifetime surf trip and a barrier was keeping them from being able to surf the big waves.

    As they were complaining, an older surfer walked up and let them use his binoculars. Through the binoculars, just beyond the barrier, the young surfers could see a feeding frenzy. Sharks were just beyond the barrier.

    What seemed like the worst thing in the world quickly turned into a great protection and a great blessing.

    How often do we look at life as though through a murky glass? If we only had binoculars, or could see and understand the bigger picture, the way God sees things, how differently this world would look.

    1 Corinthians 13:11-13

    11 When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things.

    12 For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.

    13 And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity.

    I think back on my teenage years. I wasn’t the most rebellious teenager. I was far from the most obedient. I pushed boundaries. I experimented with what I thought would bring me joy.

    As I’m now in my 30s, I realize just how stubborn and rebellious I am. This life is an opportunity for my spirit to prove whether or not I will choose God. I try my best. I realize that I am still just a child. Thinking I know best while God watches and lets me stumble around, making all the mistakes I need to so I eventually develop the humility, faith, and trust He knows I need.

    As I consider teenagers today, my heart fears for them. I remember when I thought I needed to drink, try drugs, do all the worldly things or else I would miss out. Or just to feel like I belonged.

    I think back on how lucky I was to try these things and escape with my free-will intact. Many are not so lucky.

    We look at so many destructive habits and activities from the perspective that they are fun and exciting. They are the big wave. But beneath the big wave are dangers we don’t perceive. Beer commercials always show the party. There is always a picture of abject excitement, freedom, liberation, and joy. What is never shown is what is lurking underneath: addiction, sadness, loneliness, emptiness, fear, doubt, dependance, despair, danger, suffering.

    The products of a worldly life are these things. I’ve seen it. We all have. And yet we think we want to be a part of these things, a part of this world.

    Thrilling and tantalizing waves.

    A feeding frenzy underneath. 

    Some quotes from that video –

    “The Lord’s commands do not constitute some grueling underwater barriers that we must learn to grudgingly endure in this life so that we might be exalted in the next.”

    “The Lord’s commandments are given out of love and caring. They are intended for our joy in this life just as much as they are intended for our joy and exaltation in the next.”

    There is this worldly perspective that restrictions and the commandments of God take away our freedom. Let me be free! Let me party! Let me eat, drink, and be merry!

    “Seek freedom and become captive of your desires. Seek discipline and find your liberty.”

    -Frank Herbert, Chapterhouse: Dune

    We think real freedom is drinking what we want to drink, not realizing we become a slave to that drink.

    Real freedom is eating what we want to eat, not realizing we become a slave to our appetites.

    Real freedom is going to the party, not realizing we are a slave to the fear of missing out.

    We are commanded to avoid things because those things take away our freedom, they do not liberate us.

    Real freedom is not being dependent on any substance, food, drug, or activity. Real freedom is discipline.

    Why does God give us commandments? Not to restrict us but to protect us. Not to hold us back but to let us fly to our highest potential.

  • Temple Miracle

    Temple Miracle

    I don’t recall a good temple miracle story for myself.  I love the temple.  I feel peace in the temple.  The truth is, I’ve felt like I have a difficult time after the temple.  The idea that you can take the temple with you and feel peace in the world after leaving, I’ve personally not experienced that.  My experience has been more that as soon as I leave the temple Satan doubles and triples his efforts to bring strife and impatience into my heart.  I feel the world engulf me when I leave that peaceful home.  Of course, those are probably my own shortcomings.

    So, if you asked me my best “temple story”- a story where I felt overwhelming peace, or received a profound answer to prayer, or something drastic in my life changed after a visit, I wouldn’t immediately have an answer.  That’s not to say those things haven’t happened.  I believe if we don’t write down the miracles we experience we seldomly remember them.  What a sad thing to forget miracles.

    Salt Lake Temple

    Which leads me to writing this, to be sure I don’t forget this subtle, but profound and important miracle.

    Recently Beth and I went to the Mesa temple open house.  It was an extraordinary experience.  It was my first time doing a tour of a temple.  I’ve obviously been in the temple many times, but never taken a tour.  Also, it’s been a while since I’ve been to the temple.  Since Covid, I’ve only been to the temple once, for my sister’s wedding, aside from this recent open house visit.

    Touring the temple was amazing.  Every picture inside the temple was spectacular.  I had a hard time not pausing to stare at every picture of Jesus Christ I encountered.  I would have held up the tour if I had done so, but I love staring at any depiction of Christ and trying to fathom who He is.

    The beauty in every detail of the temple is awe-inspiring.  It is a place of pure peace.  I kept tears at bay as I walked through the halls and eternally significant rooms as I realized how much I had missed that place. 

    This leads to my miracle.  It’s small, almost unnoticeable, but significant.

    Beth and I had been having some difficulty the few days, maybe week, leading up to this open house visit.  Normal marriage stuff.  Strife, snippy comments, unkindness, our house hadn’t been a super peaceful and happy place.  I say this with the vulnerability of knowing we (as people, society, etc.) don’t often admit these things, but it’s important to understand what happened after the temple.

    There was something I realized I needed to say to Beth earlier that day, but it was difficult to say because it’s extremely difficult for me to be “touchy-feely” or “lovey-dovey.”  Wasn’t how I was raised. So there was something I needed to say but it was going to be difficult.  Then, after the temple, it came out so naturally and easily.  I believe the temple brought it comfortably out of me. Maybe because being in the temple had reminded me of the covenants I made there with Beth.

    On our drive home from the temple I told Beth this:

    “Things have been hard the past few days but that’s marriage.  It’s not always going to be great.  It’s going to be difficult and we know that.  But I need to remind you, and I need you to know, I’m not going anywhere.  I’m never going anywhere.  And neither are you.  We are here for each other no matter what, no matter how hard it gets.  We made covenants to each other and I plan on keeping mine and I know you plan on keeping yours.  And throughout any challenge we’ll become closer, and more united, and stronger for those challenges.”

    This led to a conversation about the covenants we made and how important our faith is to us, and to our relationship.  I know Beth and I will always be together because I know what our relationship is centered on.  Our relationship is centered on Jesus Christ and a covenant we made with each other that included Him.  Without that rock, without that stable foundation, the world is just too shaky and full of turmoil.  But I know we will grow through any challenge because we made eternal covenants and we plan on sticking to them.

    Where Beth and I were sealed for eternity

    I believe being in the temple in some subconscious way reminded me of the covenants we’d made and made it so easy to have that deep, emotional, and important discussion.

    I’m grateful for the temple and the covenants I’ve made there.  Life and marriage is difficult enough.  With the option of walking away, too many do.  The temple is God’s house and I know that to be true.  I know it is a beacon in a dark world.  I know it is where peace can be found.  I know it is where eternal covenants and a welding link can be established.  I am eternally grateful for that home. I am grateful for the miracle it provided me that day. I am grateful for the miracle the temple is in my life every single day, whether I visit it or not, due to the covenants made there.

    San Diego Temple
  • Letter to a Sinner

    Letter to a Sinner

    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”
  • He Lives

    He Lives

    The Book of Mormon.

    The Apostles, Prophets, Bishops, leaders.

    The Prophet Joseph Smith.

    The temples.

    The missionaries.

    Knowing why I’m here.

    Knowing where I’m going

    These things are all amazing.  These are all fruits of the gospel.

    But.

    Why are they amazing?

    After seeing a great vision of eternity, of all the heavens, of the glory, love, and light we will all receive in the next life, after this vision, Joseph Smith and Sydney Rigdon wrote this:

    “And now, after the many testimonies which have been given of him, this is the testimony, last of all, which we give of him: That he lives!

    For we saw him, even on the right hand of God; and we heard the voice bearing record that he is the Only Begotten of the Father.” (Doctrine and Covenants 76:22)

    How I wish I could scream this to the world.  Jesus Christ lives!  He died for you, for each of us.  He died so you need not fear death, trials, or tribulations.  You needn’t fear anything.  He died for your reassurance.  He died for your comfort.  He died for your sins.  He died for you.

    All those things mentioned at the start are amazing, glorious, and wonderful because they point to one thing:  Him.  Jesus Christ.  The Savior of the world.  Without Him all of it would be for nothing.  Temples, prophets, scripture, what good are they?  They are only good for what they point us to.  The light and love of this world.  Jesus Christ.

    I wish the world could see this.  I wish the world could see that all these things are just tools pointing to someone far greater.

    Ultimately the gospel of Jesus Christ brings comfort.  The Plan of Salvation brings peace.  The Plan of Happiness makes this life a joy.  How could this life be anything less when you know the bigger picture?

    I don’t fear trials because I know they help me grow.

    I don’t fear tribulations because I know they benefit me for eternity.

    I don’t fear death because I know where I’m going if I continue to look to Christ.

    I wrote this months ago. Now I’m coming off a situation that has been a trial and tribulation.  I believe I can say with a little more confidence today that I don’t fear death.

    It can be naïve to say I welcome trials and tribulations when life is wonderful and peaceful.  I appreciate that my life is wonderful and peaceful because of the Gospel and the peace it preemptively brings me before trials.  It’s easy to say these things when everything is going well. I’m glad I can say them when things are hard as well. 

    Despite current challenges, I feel so blessed.

    Of course, I don’t want tests and trials, but I know when they come, they are for a great purpose.  I hope when opportunities come for my faith to be tested it can feel like an open book test.  I hope I can face trials in life as if I have the answers, which I believe I do.  It’s easy to say until a true tragedy hits my life.  I don’t hope for a true tragedy, but I hope for the strength and faith to endure tragedy if it comes.

    Coming off the accident I had, I still don’t feel like I’ve gone through a tremendous trial.  It has been challenging, but not overly.  I don’t feel like it has been that difficult at all.  I don’t know how much of that is the fact that the challenge wasn’t actually difficult or due to all the support I have around me, especially the support of God.

    These are all the benefits of the Gospel of Jesus Christ.  I wish the world had this same peace I have been profoundly blessed to be given.

    He lives!

  • Ivy’s First 48 Hours

    Ivy’s First 48 Hours

    The first 48 hours, it turns out, is not just a homicide drama on television or the most important time after a homicide, it’s also an important time after the birth of a newborn.

    The first 24 hours in the hospital went amazing.  There’s no better word than amazing.  Ivy slept the whole time.  Beth would have to wake her to eat.  She would eat and immediately go back to sleep.  We were warned of the calm before the storm.

    Nurses would come in and do this test or that.  She cried once when I was holding her for like 5 seconds.  She didn’t cry at all during her first bath.  She looked like she was enjoying a spa day.

    When another nurse pricked her foot for blood I asked if babies usually cried during that.  She said, “well, I gave her sugar water.”  I don’t know what that means but maybe we should be keeping sugar water on hand.  What I do know is there was no crying while at the hospital after her initial couple hours coming into the world.

    We brought her home around 4:30pm 12/5/20.  Becky (mother-in-law) and Jane (new aunt) were at the condo.  Apparently Bengie was disturbed by how we left the previous morning.  He had been acting strange while we were away and licked us even crazier than usual when we got home.  He didn’t seem to notice the new addition.  Yet.

    Becky made dinner.  Jane held Ivy.  Keith (father-in law) came over after his shift at the hospital.  Everyone expressed joy at a newborn.

    The first night was interesting.  While I think she was still pretty well behaved, it’s crazy how small interruptions to sleep can be completely disorienting. 

    We went to sleep around midnight.  Mistake number one.  I’ve been told this by many people, but I think I’ll have to learn firsthand.  Really – take sleep whenever it’s available.  Ivy and I were watching ASU football until 11:30pm.  Beth fed her and put her down to sleep around that time.

    At 2:00am Ivy started crying.  I’ll do my best to replay the events of the night, but Beth and I had great difficulty piecing events together in the morning. 

    I believe Beth tried to feed her, but she wasn’t really eating.  Cluster-feeding?  I don’t know. 

    *Beth update when reading this – she did feed her before I woke up at 2:00am, we think?

    Things that happened, order unknown:

    Beth made a bottle. Beth passed a blood clot. She was upset and scared and talked to her mom. Determined it was ok unless other symptoms/things happened. Beth was upset and having a hard time. I swapped spots with her and laid by Ivy’s bed, which for the first couple months (I think?) will be lying next to our bed. I fed Ivy half of the bottle Beth prepared.

    Ivy was somewhat fussy and always on the verge of crying.  Between 2am and 4am I realized she had a very messy diaper.  Explained the fussy.  I changed Ivy in the other room and laid her back down in her bed.  She was much better.  I’m not sure if Beth was completely sleeping during this time.  I think she was kind of in and out of it.  She was exhausted. 

    I laid with my hand on Ivy or helping to keep her pacifier in which seemed to settle her down.  I think I slept around 4am.  Again, not sure how things transpired, but at some point I woke up because Ivy was fussing.  Looked like she was hungry.  I talked to Beth around 5am (maybe?) about Ivy being hungry.  I think at some point Beth turned the hot air on in the room.  It had gotten cold in the room.  I could have sworn I passed Ivy to Beth around 5am to feed but in the morning neither of us could recall if that actually happened.  Funny, but being serious. 

    At some point I was really hot, and Ivy was fine.  She was sleeping like a, you guessed it, baby.  Really, she was sleeping well.  Interesting we use that phrase to indicate deep sleep when in reality sleeping like a baby is more like up every 90 minutes wanting some attention.  The living room was cooler, so I curled up on the couch and slept there.  Again, at some point (8am?) I woke up to the loud carbon monoxide alarm.  It beeped loud, 3 times.  I saw Beth coming from the kitchen.  I couldn’t fathom why she would make 3 loud beeps happen.  She seemed in a haze.  She ignored the loud beeping.  That confused me more.  I learned Bengie was sleeping on my legs.  His number one fear is loud beeps.  He jumped and ran to the bedroom, under the bed, tried to jump on the bed but Ivy’s bassinette was in the way.  He ran back and jumped on me.  He repeated this 3 times.  I held and pet him and he was shaking like crazy.  When I stopped petting, he ran to the bedroom, found his way onto the bed, and burrowed into the blankets.

    The new addition was proving to be a major interruption to his routine, peace, and quiet.

    **Beth addition number two – “you must have been in a haze too, when the beep went off, I yelled ‘oh –.’” (followed by a bad word).

    I am not denying any sort of hazy phase.  I was a cloud of confusion.

    I guess the morning had started.

    Ivy was peaceful as could be, as far as I could tell.  She’s been an angel ever since.  While writing this she was curled up on my legs/lap in front of me.  Already learning to multi-task. Her pacifier just fell out.  She likes her pacifier. 

    I still got to meditate that first day.  That was big.

    Becky came by and made some food.  I decided to fast in gratitude to Heavenly Father for all this.

    Beth proofread this and told me to insert “I was a Rockstar” talking about myself.  That’s a bit much.  Beth’s done all the hard work and is completely exhausted.  I’ve gotten to sleep next to Ivy and take care of the most important person in the world.  And she’s so cute.  And when I sleep, I get to put my hand on her and be with her. 

    Good deal.  I’ll take it.

    Ivy may be the “Coo Monster.”  She’s constantly coo-ing.  It’s heart-melting.  The cutest little hums and noises.  I love her very much.  It’s amazing how much I like caring for her.  It’s crazy how exhausted I can be already and yet how happy.

    Ivy went on a short walk in her stroller today.

    She loves her swing.

    She loves if I gently tickle her head or face with my fingers.  Her eyes will instantly flutter closed.

    Bengie and Ivy

    I love her.