Daddy's Girl

I just finished putting Eliza to bed.  It's hard to believe that next month she will be a year old.  Watching her learn and grow has been the most amazing experience.  The kids, Brenna and I are all simply enthralled by every little thing she does.  It's fun to watch her learning how to crawl and sit up, and she's even started pulling herself up to standing position now.  All standard fare for the first year of a baby's life, but remembering how hard she worked just to get here to our home with us makes us treasure every little thing she does.  

It's been particularly rewarding for me, because she treats me like a rock star!  As far as she's concerned Daddy is the greatest person on earth.  I was sitting with her in Sunday School today, and my friend, Jared, took her to hold her for a second.  She immediately reached her arms out to me making it clear that she had no intention of letting someone else hold her when Daddy was so close by.  Not unusual that a child would behave in such fashion toward someone who is not her parent, you say?  True.  However, when you see her do the same thing to Mommy, you'll know how cool she thinks Daddy is.  Observe . . .

Fortunately Brenna takes it all in stride and is glad Eliza loves her dad.  We laugh about it frequently and are just glad she's home with us.  Here's to being a parent!

Long Time

Clearly blogging has not been high on my priority list for the last few months.  No real reason, my interest just waxes and wanes.  Given that it has just waned for several months let's hope some good waxing is on the way!

A few things actually compel me to record some thoughts this evening.  First, the inauguration of Barack Obama and second, some changes at church.

I may as well say up front that I did not vote for Obama, but I was not unhappy that he won the election.  And, as I have watched events since election night it seems to me that his presence in the White House may be able to bring this country together in way that hasn't happened since 9/11.  Trying times tend to focus our energies and attentions--just as 9/11 did.  Now, again, we are faced with trying times and Obama has a singular opportunity to take advantage of the nation's collective attention.  When the people get behind a president, the president can make things happen.  The question is whether they are the right things.  And, honestly, it's pretty close to impossible to know in the heat of the moment when something is right from a historical perspective.  Obama has my attention and my admiration.  I hope he will also have my long-term gratitude.

The inauguration itself was beautiful, in my opinion.  I've spent my share of time on the National Mall in DC, and it was simply stunning to see so many people gathered there today.  I loved the camera shots that looked out from the Capitol across the reflecting pond to the Washington Monument and all the way to the Lincoln Memorial.  All of it covered in people.  In Americans there to participate in history and to show support for our new president.  That by itself was very impressive.  Add to that spectacle the significance of the event and the grandeur of the ceremony, and it was a great day, indeed, to be an American.  

I loved Aretha Franklin's "My Country 'Tis of Thee," and the subtle nod she gave to MLK with her quiet inclusion of references to Georgia and Alabama at the end.  I particularly loved the quartet performing John Williams's arrangement of Copeland's Appalachian Spring.  I was struck as much by the composition of the quartet as by the composition itself.  A Jew, an Asian, an African American and a woman combined to elicit from me a sense of wonder and joy based on the music they created.  I thought it was a fantastic tribute both in song and in appearance to what is possible.

I even enjoyed Justice Roberts's bungling of the administration of the Oath.  It simply made it feel more real and memorable.  Then came the speech, which was fantastic as is par for the course with Obama.  I'm really glad that he called us all out and basically said we were lazy and that the blame for the mortgage and financial meltdown belongs with all of us.  We all contributed to this society that idolizes greed and carelessness.  In fact those who were able to combine greed and carelessness often seemed to get most of the public's adoration.  With the mortgage benders so many of us went on simply because we could (never mind whether we should) we all contributed.  Now is our chance to show ourselves worthy to be called the descendants of our parents and grandparents and restore to our economy and this country the dignity and strength which have simply been taken for granted as a birthright for too long.  Yes, the speech stirred something in me as I had imagined it would.

Most of all I enjoyed the moment--I believe it was during the quartet--that showed Obama from behind and above as he sat looking over the assemblage.  Truthfully a tear ran down my cheek as I thought to myself, "I hope he can deliver on all of this goodwill.  I hope he can achieve those things he has set before us all."  I hope we can all work together to effect the change that he champions.

Along with 9/11 this may be the seminal American event in my lifetime to date.

I suppose that is enough on today's events.  Now to something more personal.  Given that I no longer attempt to keep a written journal anywhere but here, I feel compelled to record some feelings about the experiences I have had for nearly the past five years.  

In May 2004 I was called to serve in the bishopric of our ward.  I was very humbled by such a calling and felt wholly inadequate.  I'm guessing many of you can relate to those feelings--not unique or unusual.  It didn't take me long to realize what a tremendous trust individuals and families place in bishopric members.  Before being in the bishopric I would sit in the congregation with my family and look at the people around me and assume their lives were wonderful.  Sitting on the stand provides a completely different perspective.  I learned of people's struggles that I would never have been able to guess at.  I was fortunate to participate in individual and familial triumphs that provided incredible joy.  The experience was a true cornucopia of life lessons and spiritual growth.  

Earlier this month I was released from the bishopric.  People don't know whether to tell you congratulations or not with something like that.  In my heart I felt that I had provided the service in that calling that the Lord needed of me.  I learned many lessons and gained a better understanding of myself and the many things I need to do better.  We all have so far to go, and I gained an appreciation of that fact for me, personally, while I served in the bishopric.  

Our stake president asked me and Brenna to bear our testimonies on the Sunday I was released.  I don't remember much of what I said, but I do remember some of my thoughts.

While serving in the bishopric I saw and heard things that truly broke my heart.  But I also experienced things that brought incredible joy into my life.  And I experienced all emotions in between.  I had personal conversations with so many people--people I never would have made the opportunity to get to know if not for the calling which I held.  I found that I loved conversing with people about the things that were most important to them, and above all I learned that when it comes down to it, people just want . . . to be loved.  And that is what Christ provides for us all--love.  The Atonement is an act of perfect love and enables us to spread the love of Christ to all.  We can love and serve, and if we love and serve, eventually the Father's plan will be carried out.  Love and service coupled with an understanding of our purpose can enable us to achieve amazing things that benefit us as individuals, our families, our neighbors and society in general.  Not surprising that that is how the Father works.

Brenna said some beautiful things and paid me compliments that I don't deserve.  She and the children deserve all the credit in the world for being so faithful and supportive of me as I tried to do what we all believed was right.  I feel that we have been rewarded for the way in which we worked together as a family while I was in the bishopric.  I can't think of anything more precious than having a wife and children who love you.  I believe that is the pinnacle of manhood and achievement.  I hope that I can stay there.

I suppose I should conclude.  I do so by returning to the things I learned while in the bishopric. People deal with struggles we would never guess at.  The power of the human spirit is remarkable.  I love the way Victor Hugo describes it in my favorite book, Les Miserables:

"[T]here are many great deeds done in the small struggles of life.  There is a determined though unseen bravery, which defends itself foot to foot in the darkness against the fatal invasions of necessity and of baseness.  Noble and mysterious triumphs which no eye sees, which no renown rewards, which no flourish of triumph salutes.  Life, misfortunes, isolation, abandonment, poverty, are battlefields which have their heroes; sometimes greater than the illustrious heroes."

Differences or Commonalities?

I am just entering the "war chapters" of Alma in the Book of Mormon.  I started chapter 43 this morning, and I was captivated by the information in the first several verses.  As background, the Zoramites had left the Nephites to join the Lamanites, and the two groups were preparing for war.

Now to quote verses 5 - 7:

And it came to pass that the Lamanites came with their thousands; and they came into the land of Antionum, which is the land of the Zoramites; and a man by the name of Zerahemnah was their leader.

And now, as the Amalekites were of a more wicked and murderous disposition than the Lamanites were, in and of themselves, therefore, Zerahemnah appointed chief captains over the Lamanites, and they were all Amalekites and Zoramites.

Now this he did that he might preserve their hatred towards the Nephites, that he might bring them into subjection to the accomplishment of his designs.

As I thought about these verses I noted that Zerahemnah had made a calculated decision to focus attention on the fringe elements of those he led.  The major portion of his people were assumedly moderate in their stance toward the Nephites, but he had a smaller, what I'm calling fringe element, who were murderously opposed to the Nephites and their way of life.  Consequently, Zerahemnah utilized this fringe element to stir up the people by constantly reminding them of how the Nephites were different and how the Lamanites should hate them.  As a result of the Lamanites being force fed such vitriol, they were persuaded to go to war against the Nephites based on the perception of the Nephites as advocated by the fringe element.  Differences were trumpeted at the expense of any similarities and war ensued.

It seems that such is the case with much of society both in this country and around the world.  The groups can be political, racial or religious, to name a few.  Too often in our society we hear only how and why people people in groups other than the one with which we identify ourselves are different from us.  We hear about disagreements and arguments and how one group is unfair to another.  Soon we begin to believe that people in other groups are very different from us.  We then might ensconce ourselves more firmly within our own subculture and not seek to learn more and look beyond what we have been told by those who are, essentially, fringe elements of society.  We hear from them because commonalities are not interesting--differences are.  What a shame.

I believe there is something larger at work here.  I believe that God has a plan for the people of the earth, and that He loves us and wants us to be happy.  I believe that He considers us all His children and that Christ is His son, who came to make it possible for us to return to our Father.  Consequently, we are all brothers and sisters with one loving Father and a Brother who has done everything for us.   Above all else, we have that in common.

Sadly, there is an opposing force, and he seeks to thwart God's plan by promoting the fringe elements to ensure we don't see our similarities, but only our differences.  In his plan there would be no understanding--only fear and distrust.  How can we love someone we don't understand?  

So, how are we doing in our individual lives?  Republicans?  Democrats?  Whites?  Blacks?  Latinos?  Asians?  Muslims?  Jews?  Christians?  What do we have to say for ourselves?  Can we look past the fringe element promotions to see each other as we are--brothers and sisters?  Admittedly, I have a vast amount of improvement to do here, but I really saw something in those scripture verses I read this morning.  There are opposing forces out there, and they do have different aims for the human race.  Hopefully we can seek to find commonalities with others in our lives so as to enjoy the benefits of being part of God's family, for that is what we are.

Atomic Root Beer

Saturday was my Dad's birthday, so I called him and we chatted for a while. In the course of our conversation he talked about making Atomic Root Beer for a recent Pack Meeting and a Reunion. He gave me the recipe, and I decided to give it a try today.

5 Gallons Water

2 Lb Brown Sugar

3 Lb White Sugar

1 Container Root Beer Extract

5 Lb Dry Ice

Put in about half the water and mix the sugars and extract in. Add remaining water and then the dry ice. Let sit for about 15 minutes.

I halved the above recipe, and we had plenty of beverage for a little get together we had at our house with some friends. The only difficult part was tracking down the dry ice and the root beer extract. Safeway carries dry ice but no RB extract, Wal-Mart carries RB extract, but no dry ice. Weird stuff.

Anyhow, the kids loved the dry ice experiment. Here's a little video and a couple pictures of the excitement. Thanks for the recipe, Dad! And Happy Birthday!

Book Report

Just yesterday I finally managed to finish We wish to inform you that tomorrow we will be killed with our families. Yes, that's the title of my latest read. It's about the genocide in Rwanda during the mid-90s. Why would I want to read 350 pages on such an unpleasant subject? To be honest, I've wondered that myself. The author of the book, Philip Gourevitch, apparently wondered the same thing as to why he would research and write such a book. He starts Part I of the book by quoting from Plato in The Republic:

Leontius, the son of Aglaion, was coming up from the Peiraeus, close to the outer side of the north wall, when he saw some dead bodies lying near the executioner, and he felt a desire to look at them, and at the same time felt disgust at the thought, and tried to turn aside. For some time he fought with himself and put his hand over his eyes, but in the end the desire got the better of him, and opening his eyes wide with his fingers he ran forward to the bodies, saying, "There you are, curse you, have your fill of the lovely spectacle."

Initially, he offers that segment of The Republic without additional commentary, but then several pages in he incorporates the passage by addressing the reader:

Like Leontius, the young Athenian in Plato, I presume that you are reading this because you desire a closer look, and that you, too, are properly disturbed by your curiousity. Perhaps, in examining this extremity with me, you hope for some understanding, some insight, some flicker of self-knowledge--a moral, or a lesson, or a clue about how to behave in this world: some such information. I don't discount the possibility, but when it comes to genocide, you already know right from wrong. The best reason I have come up with for looking closely into Rwanda's stories is that ignoring them makes me even more uncomfortable about existence and my place in it. The horror, as horror, interestes me only insofar as a precise memory of te offense is necessary to understand its legacy.

Even before Don Cheadle's Hotel Rwanda was released (side note: I've not been able to bring myself to watch the movie all the way through--I'm too affected by it) I've had an interest in the Rwandan genocide and how such a thing could occur. What makes us hate? How far away is genocide or ethnic cleansing in other parts of the world? Why do so few seem to care or even be aware that such horrible things are a daily part of life for so many on this planet? Gourevitch hits the nail on the head as to explaining my interest. Ignoring such things makes me vastly more uncomfortable than learning of and mentally engaging myself in the utter incomprehensibility and gruesomeness of such events. Is there a way that my increased awareness might serve to somehow lessen future atrocities? Yes, that probably is a very arrogant, American thing to think. But so what? Why not hope that I can do some good in the world?

One thing I do know is that learning of such things has already helped me deal with my own challenges in a much more patient and grateful fashion. For instance, though the experience with Eliza was neither enjoyable nor something I would recommend, I felt that it was but a drop in the bucket compared to the agony and strife that millions upon millions of people in this world live with every day--with no end in sight. Perhaps that is a bad philosophy--others are much worse off, so just be grateful for what you have. Comparisons are generally not the best method for determining how to react to situations in your own life, but they can be instructive in helping one maintain perspective. And such is where I find myself--I have a bit of a different perspective on life now than I did before I started reading this book. And I am grateful for the perspective that has been gained. Can you give a higher compliment to a book?

I will share just one additional passage from the book that struck me particularly. Those who share my LDS faith will likely recognize immediately why it struck me so deeply. In this passage Gourevitch is recounting a conversation he had with Paul Rusesabagina (the main character in Hotel Rwanda) about Paul's actions during the genocide (where he was singularly instrumental in saving numerous lives through his diplomacy, courage and conviction--all while his own life was in as much danger as those he desired to help).

I wanted to know what had made Paul strong--and he couldn't tell me. "I wasn't really strong," he said. "I wasn't. But maybe I used different means that other people didn't want to use." Only later--"when people were talking about that time"--did it occur to him that he had been exceptional. "During the genocide, I didn't know," he told me. "I thought so many people did as I did, because I know that if they'd wanted they could have done so."

Paul believed in free will. He understood his actions during the genocide in the same way that he understood those of others, as choices.

Agency is a powerful force, and we always have that available to us--regardless of our status or situation. Easy for me to say sitting here, but I hope I won't be found wanting when the time comes for me to demonstrate how I choose to use my agency.

The book is devastating in so many respects, but it is also instructional in providing insights to the enduring power of the human spirit and the ability of one or a few to change the lives of many--for good or for bad. We all have that power and that opportunity. Let's not kid ourselves into thinking we don't, and let us be wise in how we employ it.