Peachy Keen....

I opened up FB tonight and saw this staring me in the face... 

FB decided to remind me of this post  I made when I heard that my brother Roland had beaten cancer.  It was truly a glorious day!  An answer to many prayers.... 

4 months later he passed away from the same disease that came back with a ravaging rage...

Finding it hard to take my eyes off of his image...Looking at him as if he is right there, right now, present--me looking into his eyes wondering when I can talk to him again.....

Peachy keen?   Not so sure....


I miss him.... very much.  

That is all....

30 years later....

I wrote a letter today.... it was about decisions.  It was about how a decision today can have powerful downstream implications tomorrow, or 30 years later.

30 years or so ago, I made a decision to participate in the Hill Cumorah Pageant when I was 18.  That experience awakened many spiritual feelings and emotions that reminded me of who I was and how I might direct my life.  It inspired me to make another decision to serve as a volunteer missionary for my Church.  For 2 years I dove into the culture and language of Portugal.  Mostly I embraced the people.  They found my heart and it has never let them go.

30 years later, I am having sweet emotional and spiritual conversations with those dear friends and acquaintances.  They were special then, they are gold now.

30 years later,  my son is accepted to be on the work crew for the Hill Cumorah Pageant.  He is there as a missionary for 1 month. No cell phones, no phone calls home, only written word.   I wonder each day he is gone, "will he have a spiritual experience as I did?"  "Will he have similar spiritual springboard moments?"  "Will he crawl into "their" eyes as he shares his feelings about the gospel of Jesus Christ with the audience before each performance?"  "Will he be inspired and edified in a way that will leave him never the same again....forever?"

30 years later, he comes home and we receive him with great enthusiasm..... my wondering continues... how will I find out?  Will he tell?   30 minutes into the conversation he begins sharing all the miracle stories that occurred.  I look at him, very closely as he talks... he is different... I can tell.  Something has happened.  Something very quiet, something very deep, something very personal....yes, Heaven has touched him in a way that I understand.  He is wiser, and more mature, he has grown and is ready.... I can almost feel the spiritual battle armor he has been fitted with.... ready for what life has next for him.....   I feel the lump rise in my throat.  I am so grateful that this experience left its mark on him..... Yes, 30 years later, that simple "yes" to the invitation, "Want to go be in the Pageant?" has found a way to bring so much deeper meaning that I could ever have imagined.

30 years later, what will  Braden talk about with his kids?  I hope Hill Cumorah comes to mind as it did me... that the same Spirit he felt there will be right smack there when he needs it as he shares his stories with them... they will spark the imagination, they will be curious.... maybe they will go and he finds himself with the nervous anticipation of wondering if they too will experience what he did....

30 years later, I ponder other decisions I have made... They have all led to where I am right now, in this moment.  All of them have shaped me, they are like little letters I have written myself, helping me to move left, to move right, to stop, to pause, but mostly to fall forward with a perfect brightness of hope and faith.  I take them all, good, bad and ugly--they are all mine, I made them and they have defined me.  They are precious to me, they are my book of life.  I see the downstream implications of them now, reflected in the lives of my kids, just as I resemble the outcomes of my parents' decisions.

I can only imagine the stories your decisions could tell.... I can't wait to see what mine will tell..... 30 years later.

PS: if you want to see what Braden did click here:  Hill Cumorah Setup

Family

I am not sure exactly how it works....  This thing called 'family'.  I do not know the "why" of this particular configuration..... this particular mix, this particular combination and sequence.  

I do not know why Landon came first and I do not know why Alexa came last.... I do not know why boy, then girl, then boy, then girl again came in that order.   

One small degree of variation and this picture could possibly look quite different.  One degree.....one decision..... has made all the difference.

Is it all by chance?  Coincidence.... or nature's random throw of the DNA dice?

When I look at this picture....or any picture for that matter where there is a grouping of family, I simply cannot accept this as happenstance, accidental or the random sum of a cosmetological chemistry lab experiment.  I get that it would be nice to have evidence, more facts.... we like to know things sure.... but, nice for whom?  Us?  ha!  I think the real answers would fry our pea brains.  How could one gaze at and consider the whole sum of their family, consider the connections, bringing little people into this community, the learning and growth, yes, especially the love and not wonder that there could be some purpose, some other non-mathematical equation that puts this life puzzle together for us.  Why do we have to understand everything?  Don't questions keep us moving, thinking and searching?  What would be the fun in knowing all the answers anyway?

I believe the rabid chasing of non-spiritually oriented data, facts and logic to explain our existence is actually an excuse for the weak.  To think there are those that would rather feel content knowing that a cosmic collision of dust and gas out in space is where you came from?  Really.....?  They want that to be their "Mom" and "Dad?" ...... Ick!  They would go to their dusty and rocky grave with smiles on their faces and peace in their hearts that maybe someday they too can be some icy comet that collides with some other outer space debris to cause the next explosion and become an micro ameoba and start that glorious evolutionary cycle again... oh my, I think I am getting goosebumps!  How exciting!....  How meaningful!  This line of reckoning provides meaning in their lives??  

They want to kick the only thing that beautifully describes the possibility of where we came from, whow we are, what our purpose is and where we might be going next smack in the face.....meaning: Religion.  Men definitely get in the way of religion, for sure.... in every single flavor, but isn't it pretty amazing that most of us in this world choose to aspire to believe in something beyond and bigger than us, despite our frailties and weakness.  If religion was completely false, it wouldn't work for so many and for so long.  What if religion isn't the end.... but just the means?   What if it is really like the game of 'Clue'; designed to see if we can take the initiative and find stuff out... looking for heavenly clues placed around us in our lives, piecing things here and there to finally come to the right conclusions.   Flawed or not, I choose religion.  I choose higher purpose.  I choose to believe this union; family.... persists... forever.   Mostly because of love.  Love is the mystery.... love is the magic.....love is the majesty of our existence.  It is the glue in families.  It ultimately binds us to whatever is out there....  

You want to go play in a briny evolutionary soup?  ok... enjoy!  To each his own, thank goodness.

As for me.... when I look at this picture... I will let the tears of indescribable joy roll down my face, feel the burning of my heart and the lump in my throat 'foolishly' lead me to the 'vain' hope of being together forever, forever learning, forever progressing, forever loving.....   Yeah, what a stupid doped-up hogwash idea that is....  

You choose primordial soup.....I choose people with passion and purpose.  So leave me alone about it then......but then you probably can't... cause down deep you really do know, or secretly want to....because you can't possibly stand seeing me content without answers.    

Get over it... Families rule and the Godless drool.

Adronitis

n. frustration with how long it takes to get to know someone—
Spending the first few weeks chatting in their psychological entryway, with each subsequent conversation like entering a different anteroom, each a little closer to the center of the house—wishing instead that you could start there and work your way out, exchanging your deepest secrets first, before easing into casualness, until you’ve built up enough mystery over the years to ask them where they’re from, and what they do for a living.

Have you had that experience of accidentally meeting someone....and then in just a few seconds feeling like you have known them for a long time? Maybe just wanting to have known them forever...? It is that feeling of instant connectedness that creates this urgency to know all about them immediately!  Adronitis captures this well.  The small talk seems.....unnecessary, unhelpful and just gets in the way, like sticky spider webs that slow down the speed of getting to the "good stuff."  It is in these moments that we seem to know immediately, that there will never be enough time to ever get to really know them.  The realization is heavy, like treading deep water and fighting to get to ground but it takes forever....

I remember having a burst of Adronitis when I was with a very good friend who I had met just a few months earlier.  We had gotten on well and as we started to talk about things I felt this urge to ask:

"What were you like 5 years ago??"  

I felt a very strong desire to know them right then and there, not knowing exactly why.  The response back was a bit of a defensive:  "Why do you want to know?"  Fair question.... I stumbled for a reply....  I remember trying to find the right words so I didn't seem so 'dumb'.....What finally came out was not what I expected, and was a revelation to me.   "Because I wan't to love you more."  This wasn't a romantic "love you" but rather the agape version, the type of just wanting to accept this person for who they were, and by somehow knowing them more deeply would enable me to appreciate them more, to let them know how awesome of a person I thought they were.... as if I could be some kind of a mirror, that they could see the reflection of who they really were.....to see everything I could see, which was amazing to me.

I won't forget that moment.... the response back was very special, emotional and touching.  It wouldn't have happened if not for Adronitis.  It made me want to cut through the "red tape" of the knowing process.   It doesn't have to happen every time.......It isn't for all, and not for every friend...this I know as well.  But for those special moments that make all the difference, it is one of the "hurts good" moments my Father taught me so well to cherish.

To my friend....  wherever you are... I still want to know more.  I have to wait.  I will treasure the small bits and pieces that have come my way... they are like gold, never to tarnish, never losing their luster.

.... a toast to Adronitis, may you continue to play your part in the meeting and knowing of one to another!  long live.....

Beauty is in the Eye of the Beholder

There are those that seek for beauty....as if to "find" it, to "capture" it....like a destination or a possession.  To those who are constantly chasing it, it becomes that perpetual, elusive leaf in the wind, always seemingly within grasp, but like a whisper of smoke, just as one grasps, it blows just ahead....forever...non-catchable.  

Is it possible that it was never meant to be "caught."  What if is is just supposed to be "seen" or "experienced?"

Why do we seek it when it is in us?..... When it is all around us?... Isn't beauty defined by the way we see the world.  Could beauty be the lens we look through. Maybe this is why it is undefinable by one source (Webster's).  You and I define it with every look, with every blink of the eye, with every soulful stare that is connected with our heart.  

Beauty is how our heart sees.  

Isn't this why a perfectly mowed lawn can be striking for one, while for another, the quiet yet systematic routine of a mother to care for kids, to keep a house together can also be defined as ..... beautiful?

I think that beauty is about being quiet.  Its luster illuminates with the right kind of intentional listening. Beauty is a bath you soak in.  It is spiritual and feels exquisite when combined with feeling.  Beauty is clarity of purpose, simplicity at its essence.  It is in the small things, and can be found in the largeness of a landscape or the serenity of an expansive sunset.   My personal favorites are when you find them in between the mundane daily activities and tasks.  When they don't happen because of something intentional, rather, because you were just there.....watching and listening for it while doing the task.. 

"Beauty is its' own excuse for being..." my Dad wrote once to me.... 

I found beauty the other day when I went to a funeral of good friend's 2 year old daughter that drowned in their pool.  I went to mourn and grieve, to be supportive of my friend and his family.  What happened was that they somehow managed to console and give me peace... they only talked about the beauty of this little girl, thankful for the opportunity to "experience" her for a few "eternal seconds" in this life.   

They felt so grateful to be worthy to have the opportunity to release their child back to Heaven... 

No....  I didn't expect to find that kind of deep beauty that morning, but there it was for the taking, for anyone willing to accept and embrace that searing stuff that only God knows how to give and make sense of.


On Beauty


Where shall you seek beauty, and how shall you find her unless she herself be your way and your guide?
And how shall you speak of her except she be the weaver of your speech?

The aggrieved and the injured say, "Beauty is kind and gentle.
Like a young mother half-shy of her own glory she walks among us."
And the passionate say, "Nay, beauty is a thing of might and dread.
Like the tempest she shakes the earth beneath us and the sky above us."

The tired and the weary say, "Beauty is of soft whisperings. She speaks in our spirit.
Her voice yields to our silences like a faint light that quivers in fear of the shadow."
But the restless say, "We have heard her shouting among the mountains,
And with her cries came the sound of hoofs, and the beating of wings and the roaring of lions."

At night the watchmen of the city say, "Beauty shall rise with the dawn from the east."
And at noontide the toilers and the wayfarers say,
"We have seen her leaning over the earth from the windows of the sunset."

In winter say the snow-bound, "She shall come with the spring leaping upon the hills." 
And in the summer heat the reapers say, 
"We have seen her dancing with the autumn leaves, 
and we saw a drift of snow in her hair."
All these things have you said of beauty, 
Yet in truth you spoke not of her but of needs unsatisfied,
And beauty is not a need but an ecstasy. 
It is not a mouth thirsting nor an empty hand stretched forth,
But rather a heart enflamed and a soul enchanted.

It is not the image you would see nor the song you would hear,
But rather an image you see though you close your eyes and a song you hear though you shut your ears.
It is not the sap within the furrowed bark, nor a wing attached to a claw,
But rather a garden for ever in bloom and a flock of angels for ever in flight.

Beauty is life when life unveils her holy face.
But you are life and you are the veil.
Beauty is eternity gazing at itself in a mirror.
But you are eternity and you are the mirror.
Kahlil Gibran

In other words.....You are beauty...  Accept the gift and reflect it on everyone and everything and everywhere you go....and drink in what comes back... It is pretty special to be that free.....

Valhalla

The other day we got a letter from school.  It was from the principal informing us that Braden, was nominated by his coach to be a "Valhalla Viking." (Viewmont high school Vikings) This was a special recognition of outstanding scholar athletes.  We attended a very small and unassuming ceremony where very few others were honored.

What was not very quiet or unassuming at all was the highly stirring and inspiring words from the principal who shared with us a bit of Viking lore and taught us the mythology of Valhalla.  I had no idea.....

Valhalla is where Odin, the one eyed God resides.  He keeps his one good eye out for those viking warriors that have uncommon courage and bravery during battle.  All Vikings only dream of being worthy to be chosen for Valhalla.  It is their entire motivation and source of their drive.  I learned that Valkyries -- "Choosers of the fallen" women warriors are the ones that Odin uses to choose who will die or not in battle.  These noble maidens bring the dead heroes to the afterlife hall of the slain, Valhalla.  They feast all night on the same boar every night and they drink mead and they battle every day in preparation for the great and final battle -- Ragnarok.  Talk about Groundhog's Day!!   This is why Valhalla has like 588 doors.....so that in one instant thousands of warriors are ready to evacuate the building to do battle.    Are you ready for more?  Ragnarok consists of a series of battles leading up to one final one where the Gods all die... yep, Odin and even THOR!  The whole world submerses in water, Afterwards the earth resurfaces and is all new like and then will be repopulated by two human survivors. (Sounds familiar....)

Pretty good stuff huh?  You better believe it.  I was "in" deep by now.

He went on to tell us that what defined these particular warriors were that they had to know the secret of the "riddle of steel" in order to enter the halls of Valhalla.  "Ah...so, the plot thickens" I said to myself....I felt myself completely being reeled into this Norse mythological madness.   "What could be the riddle of the steel?" I thought... Sounds so freakin' cool.  Viking steel is now known to be the highest quality sword ever made. Vikings figured out how to use crucible steel along with special techniques to remove the slag and introduce the right amount of carbon to make the "Gucci" of it's day.  People tried to do knock-offs and failed.  Nothing was stronger or harder.  Not every viking had one.  Those who did, stood out.  These were the ones that Valkyries would pay particular attention to.

They would take a particular viking warrior earlier if they showed particular bravery or unusual strength in battle at a younger age.  They would have to tell the secret of the riddle to these warriors before they died so they would be able to give the right pass phrase.  So, yes.... as we 8 parents were on the edge of our seats as the principal then shared with these newly selected Valhalla Vikings, the secret.   My heart was beating a bit faster and I did feel a few goosies.... The principal delivered big time.  (Sorry, will not reveal the secret......)

All fun aside... what was pretty amazing is that despite the window dressing of the mythology, it fit Braden so well. Whittle the story down to the bare essential principles and it stands on it's own legs really well.  So, does Braden.

So, if Valhalla needs such warriors, how much more does Heaven need them? More than ever.   Braden will always be a Viewmont High Viking from an alumni perspective....... but if Valhalla is anything like Heaven, then he is definitely a Valhalla Viking warrior in the most real sense possible.   He is undoubtedly one of Heaven's warriors--chosen from before time, to stand today, to do battle in a world filled with bizarre notions, confusing values, where truth is shrouded in mist and shadow.  To defend right.  

To those who think they know him.... you will first say what they all say about Braden.... "He is quiet....so quiet." Yes, he is... with words.  Just watch as he silences us all with his deafening character and heart.  Every right choice he makes is like a Viking sword slashing through this morally tangled world.  No one is louder than he.  No one is braver, no one is more courageous.  You want to find a sword made of pure crucible steel.... I know where one is.... It is in Braden's hand, and heart. 
Of all the people I know, there is no one more worthy to bestow the secret of the "riddle of steel" to then  -- Braden Valhalla Viking Brown.  

..............So, don't take him yet Valkyrie.... wait a bit if you will.  Watch this guy go slay, in his own particular way, and see what havoc he wreaks.  It will blow you away.....

Os Candangos

This statue is called "Os Candangos".  
it represent the 30,000 workers that created one of the worlds most interesting planned cities: Brasilia. These are they who came from all over Brazil, to realize a dream and fulfill a country's destiny, because they were building the new capital of their country.  They knew they were working on something greater than themselves, they were not building structures or edifices, they were planting a new culture, a new way of life, a new legacy.  They left blood, sweat and tears along the way. They lived in almost complete isolation.  There was nothing civilized close to them.
They had to bond together -- They were all they had.  They struggled with incredible boredom and homesickness.

Only 50 years later in 2010 when Brasilia celebrated it's fiftieth birthday do the Candangos receive a long overdue recognition and appreciation for this most incredible city.

This statue is very special to me..... It was the logo and brand of our high school.  In the gym we were the EAB Bulls, but really, we were the international transplanted "Candangos".  We identified with this symbol. 

It represented a union, of diverse people from different nationalities.   You see, I was a Candango too....not a native one, but one that was "grafted" in like an adopted child.... we all were who lived there.  We weren't the original workers, but we were the ones who moved in to bring life to this unusual and unique city.  We brought balance to the cold politicians and government institutions there.   We came to realize our own dreams.  We found out, like the workers did, that we weren't just living in the structures, buildings and edifices, we were  planting our own unique culture, a new way of life, a new way to co-exist.  We had to bond together--

We were all we had.  

We too struggled with boredom and homesickness.  We reached out across nationalities, cultures and language to survive.....only then could we figure out if we could thrive in this odd corner of the world--our global village.

The statue reminds the world of those workers, who bonded in solidarity to create this very special place.  We all feel that bond.  We leaned on each other to get through.  By living there, we became Candangos ourselves.... except we were building something a bit different....something special, just like they did.  Something that would change our lives....yes, even a legacy that has spanned three decades. At first we didn't know, but, eventually we found out that we were proud to call Brasilia our home.  The immersion and confinement of the physical and geographical constraints had an interesting and compelling way of working into our hearts....finding the fertile soil of friendship.

Compared to the rest of Brazil it was hardly anything.  Bereft of entertainment, sports, music, diversity or culture... We had to make up our own, and we did.   We played on and around the modernistic monoliths of architecture: Congresso Nacional (The cup and saucer) , the Catholic Cathedral etc....we did what we could to use our imagination and creativity to keep our sanity and survive.






It forced some of my classmates to create entire genres of music that went on to influence all of Brazil. (Plebe Rude, Capital Inicial).  It produced artists, musicians, politicians, diplomats, judges, entrepreneurs.

The memories of these images never leave me.  They are part of me.  They seem as comfortable now as they did then.  But time does pass, it can fade the edges of these memories... and just when they seem to start to fade too much, there is something that brings them back into full color and life.

Just the other day I stumbled upon this picture on FB.  Two classmates and friends of mine from high school. Ricky and Flavia... 30 years later.... 

To the casual viewer looks very much like friends taking a typical photo in front of the cliche "tourist site".   This couldn't be further from the truth.
No... This is dramatically different. The irony brought me to my emotional knees.  Two Candangos, two of the best and brightest of all of us....in front of the Congresso, as if posing  like the original statue.  This was a "Candango" reunion of epic proportions....This was bigger then them.  They probably have no idea what they truly represent.  The sweet connection of their hand holding reminds me of the feeling we still have for one another--that special bond of our shared experience and deep friendship after 3 decades.

That pose,  opened a door for all of us to be there with them....knowing exactly what that moment would feel, smell and taste like.  All the feelings come flooding back... 

 They are us....

Can I just say how much I love the fact they the two of them have so much mutual fondness and friendship that has been sustained over so many years. Just two high school kids that loved art.... who knew if their paths would every cross again?  .....An then to meet back there in the 'cement city' all these years later.... so simple, so sweet.

My heart hurts so good that they did....Muito Obrigado pela memoria tao forte e tao significante!

Should I be Afraid?

Is the last question Anthony Hopkins asks Brad Pitt, playing the personified role of "Death" in the movie "Meet Joe Black".   

Death answers: 

"Not a man like you."

I wouldn't say this is the easiest movie to watch. The story line caught my imagination even beyond that of the performances.  The idea of it was fascinating.  That this man, near the twilight of life, has this unique opportunity to see death....his death, before it happens.  He moves elegantly forward, not knowing what will happen, but he helps us see what that process might look like for us. He reflects and ponders.... he quickly starts to prioritize and figures out what is most important: His family, and he gathers them in..... He looks at them differently... right into their eyes with a sense of determined purpose.  He expresses uncharacteristic gratitude to each of them.  He also at times shows the frustration that would naturally accompany the moments when he realizes that he can't control it ....what is coming.  In life,  he is a captain of industry, yet when faced with the reality of death he is..... just like us.  I marvel at the way he takes stock of his life.  The way he counsels his daughter.  The words he chooses... so simple and so profound. 

He tries to explain love to Death... He can't seem to make him understand.  With great passion he tries to describe his definition of love after Death asks him: "What is it?" 

William responds: "Trust, responsibility, taking the weight for your choices and feelings, and spending the rest of your life living up to them.  And above all, not hurting the object of your love."

Death continues:  "So that's what love is to William Parrish?  

"Multiply it by infinity, and take it to the depth of forever, and you will still have barely a glimpse of what I am talking about."  

 Is the response.....

I love the  choices he makes.....They all seem so wise. We watch him navigate through little tests that Death continually poses to him.  There is a moment when William challenges death and succeeds in making his point, as if to see through almighty death! In the end, he graciously, and so honorably makes his rounds, readying himself.... like cleaning up little piles of papers here and there that tend to get neglected in the busyness of life. 

Funny, life's little piles aren't really paper are they..... No, .... they are people.  

So, he doesn't wait for the foreboding tick of his life's clock.  He takes ownership of his own final moments with his family, individually--one by one.  He gives them the gift of that longing and knowing gaze....The look that causes each to notice....and wonder, fleetingly....but he helps them by releasing them back to the "party"....which is a metaphor for their lives.  He goes and finds Death, on his own terms.  He is at peace, he knows what is about to happen... he is calm.  Yet, he asks nonetheless...."Should I be afraid?"  The key question we all want to know the answer for ourselves.....Death honors him with his reply above.  

My brother Roland  didn't wait for the foreboding tick of his life's clock.  He owned his own final moments.  He spent time individually with each family member.  He gave them the gift of that longing and knowing gaze.  And then he went and found Death on his own terms despite that Death called on him first.... When asked "Are you ready?"  He replied with a resolute...."Yes" and then he went.... 

Should I be afraid?  If only I could imagine hearing the same words in response...... 

It is worth reaching for.

                                                                                                                                                                                              

There better be music in Heaven....

.... and it better look alot like this!  Yes.... flying guitar shaped space ships searching for what elusive rock stars always search for....ultimate non-commital no accountability coolness...

...... and there better be free tickets to all the amazing concerts I never got to see here.

.....I think there should be free tap lessons from Fred Astaire, dance moves from Michael and yoga from Ghandi.  (but no hot yoga....)

...... I think the 100 flavor soda machines should be found everywhere and the Dr. Pepper mix a bit richer than we typically find on earth.

..... I think movies should finally be free and all the popcorn and soda too!  and every seat a 3D D BOX IMAX deal.....and that all the bad stuff can be edited on the fly through a killer app on my iPhone

...... I think I would like to see Gandalf and take a walk in Rivendell......(you think I am kidding...?)

...... I think I should be able to text any of my friends and they should always be available to have me come visit and talk about good 'ol times.

...... I would like to draw music and have it play as I write.... to have notes and the right instruments find the words I write and the songs write themselves.... every one a greatest hit.

..... I would like to see each amazing artist, dancer, athlete, painter, sculptor, musician and prophet that affected me and just say:  "Thank you"... and have them completely understand the ultimate magnitude of those two words... that they will feel and know deep in their bones that they lived well and served a higher purpose of inspiring me and billions of others.....

...... I think I should be able to hang with my kids and not be a parent, but rather just be a dude.....and then have tinfoil dinners on an open fire where we can throw and burn an unending supply of year old high school papers.....

......I think it would be amazing to finally have the time to get to know those very special people that I just barely got to know....to know them all the way up and all the way down and get goosebumps because they are so amazing.

......I think I should be able to see my Mother... and watch her dance as she did in her prime.....over and over again.

...... I think I should be able to see my brother again, and laugh.... and talk..... throw my arms around him and never let go....

..... I think there should be some way to see Jesus, even if just from afar, listening to some new parable...., watching the awe of those listening......maybe even tasting a fish or loaf that unexpectedly comes my way.....

...... Yes, there better be music in Heaven............or I am not going......

“The connections we make in the course of a life--maybe that's what heaven is.” 

― Fred Rogers

Comfort Zones

moment of truth

plural noun: moments of truth

1. 1.

   a time when a person or thing is tested, a decision has to be made, or a crisis has to be faced.

I am a big believer in the idea that life presents to us a number of important moments that define us in a particular way..... who we really are, our character and yes.....even our love of God.

There are numerous metaphors and examples of this all around us. The world of athletics provides many examples of "olympic" moments where records are broken and incredible personal achievement is demonstrated.  Another is the simple metaphor of boiling water.  At 211 degrees water is very hot. It takes one extra degree to get water to boil.  When water boils it creates steam.....steam can power locomotives. The value of one extra degree is truly significant in this case study.  I believe it is as well as we think about ourselves as that one extra degree. What kind of steam could we create to power our lives with a bit more effort?  

Are we content to be just 'good enough'?  

Someone once said that good is the enemy of great.  

Interesting.... Hot water isn't bad is it?, Coming in 2nd isn't either one might say.  The question becomes, is it our best effort?  Is there something left in our proverbial 'tank' that we could have given.....makes one think.  Are you being stretched or are you a victim of life's challenges.  One is about "acting" the other is about "being acted upon".   We do not learn without stretch.  That is one of the dangers of comfort zones... we don't really learn anything, so we don't grow.

The scriptures are the very best place to learn the lessons of this value, of one degree more of effort.  Every prophet was presented with defining moments of truth.  We learn much by studying and then applying their lessons learned from their experiences in our own lives.  We have to find those underlying lessons.  We may not find ourselves faced with the challenge of parting seas, leading an entire civilization in the desert for 40 years or having to build a ship and traversing oceans, but the principles that guided each of their decisions during those moments are the same that we have within our own reach.  They have paved the way towards helping us with the right formula that we can use to leverage critical 'moments' to propel us to higher ground, clearer vistas and enlightened edifices--even heavenly realms.  At the core they are the simple gospel principles of faith, repentance, baptism and the gift of the Holy Ghost the bible teaches us.

Jesus knew what His defining moment would be. The one in Gethsemane.....He didn't want it, it weighed Him down in ways we do not understand.  Yet, with perfect faith and perfect love, He maintained that big picture eternal perspective and by never forgetting the why, he passed through that supreme and infinite moment of all moments of truth.  That best effort literally unlocked every door and empowered us to have a perfect hope of a most excellent future reunited with Him and our Father in Heaven once more.  

In that most exquisite moment of truth-the ultimate stretch assignment, we learn who Jesus Christ really is, His character....yes, even the extent of His profound love of God the Father.  We cannot compare our individual challenges and trials with others as that is not helpful.  Each of our own is tailor made for us, that is all we need to know.  What we then need to remember is that they are literal stepping stones into eternity once passed (ref. RLB) with our best effort.  if it didn't stretch us would it even be worth it?  I thank God that my life is not easy.  I don't always welcome what comes or what I cause but I do know that there is purpose in trials, and that is enough for me. 

I am that one degree.  So are you.....we each have the untapped potential.  We were built for these moments. we will get knocked down, but we will always get back up and climb some more.  This is our work.  This is why we are here......Shall we not decide today to find the mental determination and tenacity and then set the necessary grit in our teeth, then proceed to climb and never stop....?  If we are designed to look heavenward, then there is no "if" about our steady but gritty climb upwards in life.  There is just.....forward movement.  

life begins at the end of your comfort zone:

“Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back, always ineffectiveness. Concerning all acts of initiative (and creation), there is one elementary truth the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one definitely commits oneself, the providence moves too. A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one's favor all manner of unforeseen incidents, meetings and material assistance, which no man could have dreamt would have come his way.”                                                                                                       -- William Hutchinson Murray