Learning the Meaning of Life in a Public Bathroom

Learning the Meaning of Life in a Public Bathroom

          Several years ago, my wife and I were at a big move theater complex in a neighboring town.  I completely forget what movie we watched that night, but learned an incredible lesson about the meaning of life, while spending a few minutes in the public bathroom.

          In my clumsiness, I had spilled some soda pop on myself at some point during the evening, and had gone into the bathroom to try to clean up and dry off to some extent.

          While engaged in my hygienic task, a young father entered the restroom holding hands with his son, who couldn’t have been more than 3 years old.  They turned and headed down the row of stalls, and as they did, the little boy let loose and ran excitedly toward the first open door he saw yelling in excitement, “I’m a big boy daddy, I can do it all by myself.”

          “Okay, son.” The father affectionately replied with a big grin. “I will be right here if you need anything.”

          “It’s okay dad, I can do it by myself.” Responded the optimistic voice from within.

          The door to the stall closed and for a few moments there was silence as the young boy, must have been engaged in his task.  His father stepped a few feet away and leaned against a nearby wall.

          Then from within the stall came a tender little voice which now beheld a world closed in by tall obscuring walls and which was filled with strange odors and sounds he was not familiar with. It was almost laced with an edge of panic at the realization that he could no longer see or hear his father.  “Daddy, are you there?”

          “Yes, son.  I am here.  I will not leave you.  Are you doing alright?” Came the father’s patient reply as he leaned against the outside wall.

          Reassured, the little boy, then launched into a long and detailed description of how things were going within his new environment and the successes he was having in his task.  His father listened, smiling outside the stall (as did I by the sink at the far end of the room), as the child’s play by play account rang out and reverberated off the tiled walls.      Occasionally boy would ask questions and the father would direct him where the toilet paper roll would be located and to make sure he did a thorough job as best he could.

          As the young boy finished his description and paused, the silence again fell across the room.  His tones of confidence once again warped into one of worry and concern, “Daddy, are you still there?”

          “Yes son.  I am still here.  I won’t leave you I promise.  I will always be right here.”

          Reassured, the youthful excitement returned once again as the boy launched into how he was both struggling and succeeding finishing his task and donning his clothing once again.  His story was culminated with a flush and moments later the young child came bursting through the doorway and ran excitedly into his father’s waiting an open arms, “I did it daddy, I did it!”

          His father scooped him up and gave him a loving embrace and showered praise upon him, “I knew you could do it!  You are such a good son and I am so proud of you!”

          They joined me at the row of sinks as they washed together and enjoyed each other’s company and then left to bathroom to return to the rest of their waiting family members.

          But as I stood at the sink drying spilled soda off my shirt, the simple yet profound message of that moment sunk deep into my soul, about the significance and meaning of life and our purpose here upon this mortal globe.

          All of us are children of a loving Heavenly Father, who prepared us and guided us into this life of mortality.  I am sure that under his supportive reassurance, we all approached coming into this life, with the innocent and naive optimism of that young child saying, “I can do it Daddy, I am a big boy/girl.  I can do it on my own.”

          Once here in mortality, with a veil of forgetfulness upon us, we find ourselves in an environment closed off from the presence of Deity, which is filled with unfamiliar sights, sounds and experiences.  Life and its challenges has a way of making us realize our solitary and inexperienced state at times, and compels our spirits to cry out toward heaven, “Father, are you still there?”

          As we call upon God in prayer, His loving and patient answer is always, “Yes child, I am still here.  I will never leave you!”

          Prayer is such a wonderful and often overlooked priceless lifeline to higher power and experience, which can direct us to the answers we are seeking for but cannot find on our own.  Our loving Father will never force His will upon us, but will constantly and lovingly guide us through our difficulties so that we can learn from experience and grow into something better than what we once were.

          As we become successful at times, the world will often distract us from that lifeline and we will take pride in ourselves and our accomplishments and can easily weaken our resolve until we realize that beyond the veiled stall of life is a source of ultimate wisdom, and we are drawn back to Him once again.

          If we maintain this link and line of communication, we will find the guidance and reassurance we need, as well as discover that all the tools we need to be successful have been placed within our grasp if we will listen to His guidance and know where to find them.  With the guidance of his father, the boy in the bathroom found a roll of paper.

          Our loving Heavenly Father will also guide us through the words of His prophets which are found in the scriptures.  They contain the words of wisdom and instruction to help us be successful in our tasks and know how to cleanse us, through the power of the atonement of our Savior from the filth of this world and become clean again through His loving grace.

          In due time, we will all face the end of our time in the stall of mortality, and if we have been faithful, we will pass beyond the door of death and see before us, the open and waiting arms of a Father who is eagerly waiting to scoop us up in His loving embrace.

          I am sure that we will run to him with cries of, “I did it, Daddy!  I did it!”

          To which he will respond, “I knew you could do it!  I am so proud of you!”

          May we always remember that we are never alone!  Our loving Father is there just beyond our mortal sight, and we can always reach out to Him through prayer!  If we do, He will guide us through life’s struggles and back into waiting embrace, much better for the experience!

          I’m grateful for life’s lessons and Heaven’s constant call, even when it comes through spilling a soda on your shirt and learning it in a public bathroom.

Die-Hard Fan

          It seems like this blog tends to revolve around unfortunate accidents I’ve experienced throughout my lifetime.  I don’t know why that is except for the fact that I’ve had plenty of accidents related to my not so smart decision making process.

          For whatever the reasons, these experiences are part of my life and have forged me into who I am.  I guess I’ve just had to learn some lessons the hard way – especially in my younger years.

          Today I want to recall an event which happened when I was probably only about 6-7 years old.  We still lived in Bishop, California at that time in my life, which was a smaller town near the foothills of the Sierra Nevada Mountain range.

          One summer day, my Mom and Dad informed my older brother and me that they were going to run into town for a few errands and leave us home alone for an hour or so.  I don’t recall specifically, but I’m sure my knowing mother probably warned me to, “Stay out of trouble!”

          Being the budding genius that I was, I somehow concocted what I thought would be an incredibly funny prank to pull on my parents.  As they were going out the back door through the kitchen, which led out toward the garage and driveway, I quickly snuck out the front door and ran around behind the pick-up truck.

          Climbing up onto the back bumper and holding onto the tailgate, I crouched down low so that I would be hidden from view from within the cab where my parents would be sitting.  Sure enough, my parents were oblivious to my presence as they crawled into the truck and backed out onto the street in front of our home.

          With the wind swishing through my hair, I chuckled in delight at the prank I was going to pull on them as my father put the truck into drive and headed down towards town.  My hilarious plan was this: once my parents pulled up to the stop sign about 2 blocks away from our house, I would stand up on the back bumper and yell “Surprise!” or some other crazy phrase, they would be shocked as to how I had appeared there, and then I would hop off the back and run back home laughing all the way.

          What my little brain had failed to make contingency plans for was the fact that my dad did not to come to a complete stop when he reached the intersection!  Instead he simply slowed down a bit, and seeing no one was coming proceeded right on through!

          A wave of panic came over me as I realized my dilemma, which must have clouded my reasoning further than it already was, because instead of standing up and announcing my presence so I could get their attention and stop… I decided I would get in less trouble if I simply hopped off the back and ran home completely unnoticed.

          Being only in 1^st or 2^nd grade, my comprehension of the laws of physics wasn’t quite up to the speed with the acceleration of the pick-up.  You know that basic law of physics which says, “A body in motion tends to stay in motion, until it is acted upon by an equal or opposite force” or something like that.

          Well, as I hopped off the back of the tailgate and extended my legs below me to land on the ground an interesting thing happened that I had not expected.  I was the body in motion that was still traveling at the speed of the truck and the resisting force below me was the stationary hot paved gravel street.

          As my sneakers hit the road, I slapped down and skidded forward through the far end of the intersection, tumbling in my shorts and tank top.  I put my hands forward to catch myself, which only churned them into hamburger along with my knees, shoulders, forehead and one of my cheeks.

          As my parents sped off oblivious into town, I was left to gather up my torn and bloodied carcass, and had to hobble the two blocks home sobbing hysterically.

          When my parents returned home an hour or so later my parents were, needless to say, shocked at my appearance and even more bewildered at my story as to how it happened, I’m sure they considered once again how they were so blessed to have me as their son!

          So where am I going with this completely true tale today… one that involves silly jumping on and off a truck?

          Well, with the College football bowl games just recently completed, the NFL playoffs and SuperBowl quickly approaching, and college and NBA basketball in full swing, I got thinking about what it means to be a “Fan” along with the concept of fans “Jumping on the bandwagon” or “jumping off the bandwagon” when things are going wither well or poorly for their team.

          Fans that jump on and off the bandwagon are usually referred to as “fair-weather fans” because they aren’t really committed to actually supporting their team unless things are going well.  Once the trouble starts, they jump off the bandwagon like rats off a sinking ship.

          Then, of course, there are the “Die-hard fans”.  These are the folks who live and die with their team’s triumphs and defeats.  They are the true fanatics whose lives and actions often revolve around the upcoming game schedule.

          I grew up in a household where my father and his sons were die-hard BYU fans!  My dad actually has a special room in the back of his house, which he calls the "Cougar Den, which is plastered with BYU paraphernalia and a big TV where we gather to watch the games together and either celebrate the victories or console each other in defeat.

          My Dad even has a big BYU flag he raises up his pole on game days, and if the Cougars loose, he lowers it to half-staff for a few days to warn the neighbors they better not come by because he’s in a bad mood.  Luckily, my sweet wife has been tolerant and supportive of this harmless vice throughout our marriage as well.

          One day, as I returned home from my dad’s following a disappointing BYU football loss, I was thinking about having to rally my spirits to get back into a positive mood so I could go to Church the next day and with a positive attitude.  My son noted my despondency and commented to me, “Dad, you’re a true die-hard fan.”

          Something clicked when he said that phrase and I was thinking about the church lesson I had to teach the next day.  It was the phrase “Die-hard”.  I got thinking about why it was that I stuck with and supported a team that was far from perfect, experienced frequent and regular struggles, hardships and frustrations.

          In context of my Sunday church thoughts, it hit me… I thought about the ultimate and very truly literal “Die-Hard” fan of all time, Jesus Christ!  Here was a completely devoted and 100% committed being, who came to this earth because of His utter love and support for us!  He was the ultimate fan of the human team of which you and I are all players, and literally “Died Hard” through the suffering of His Atoning suffering in Gethsemane...

 His Crucifixion...

 and raising triumphantly from the tomb through the power of the resurrection…

all in support of us… a team of mortal individuals with frailties, struggles, short-comings, weakness and imperfections.

          As I think about this along with the memory of jumping off the bandwagon (back of my dad’s truck) as a child.  I am humbled and grateful that my ultimate die-hard fan and Savior has consistently been there for me throughout my life of struggles and injuries!

          He is never “fair weather”, but is always there for each and every one of us as our biggest fan and most committed supporter!  He consistently cheers on our successes and mourns with us in our moments of loss and discouragement!  He never falters or wavers in his love and devotion which calls us to rise up through His strength, and beckon us forward to try yet again to be a better person each day, no matter what may have happened the day before.

          He helps to bind up and heal our wounds, whether emotional, psychological or otherwise, and provides us the ability to continue on in the game of life until it is finally finished.  And I know that when the game of mortality is finally done, if we have been faithful despite our frailties, He will be the One waiting to embrace us and congratulate us on a game well played and welcome us into His room of eternal celebration and joy!

          May we always be grateful for our biggest fan and turn to Him when life’s losses come.  I believe those struggles and trials are there to remind us to turn to Him when all other fair-weather fans may have jumped off our bandwagons.  He is always there and always will be!

MAX & THE MEANING OF CHRISTMAS

MAX & THE MEANING OF CHRISTMAS

MAX & THE MEANING OF CHRISTMAS

         Many years ago on a cold winter day, I stepped out of the back door of our house to trudge through the snow and bitter cold to go and get something from our old shed on the back edge of our property.   As I stepped past our dog house just outside the back steps, a large unknown dog jumped out of the meager shelter and shot right between my legs!  I don’t know who was more startled, me or the stray dog, but at least one of us nearly had a heart attack!

          After calming from the the unexpected near-cardiac arrest, I watched the dog run out into the bitter cold and behind our old dilapidated pick-up truck near the shed, and figured I would never see him again.  But a few days later nearly the same thing happened again!  There was this skinny, starving, hound dog hiding out in our dog house, trying to find some measure of warmth from the freezing winter chill.

          My wife took pity on the poor dog and put out some bowls of warm water and dog food on the back steps.  And such began our family’s association with the dog we would later come to call “Max”.  He was a breed called a “Treeing Walker Coonhound”.

          After several days of feeding and giving him fresh water every time it would freeze solid, our family began trying to approach him.  But every time anyone got near him he would run away in panic and fear.  It was sad and heartbreaking, as it became obvious that somebody had abused him in his past life, and he was nervous and afraid of everything all the time.

          ***I am now going to skip ahead in this story for a moment and then will come back to this tentative canine companionship towards the end.***

          Max was hilarious as he gradually adjusted to our company.  Once my wife tried leaving the back door open and so he could feel the warmth inside, and she placed his food dish just a little ways into the back room of the house.  As we stood far away and watched him through the open door, he tentatively came up the steps, but stopped his feet outside at the threshold.  He leaned in as far as he could, neck stretched out like an ostrich, until he could finally grab the edge of the food dish in his mouth and then quickly drug it outside to consume his meal!  But he would not come fully inside.

          Eventually, after nearly 2 or 3 months of living out in the cold, he gradually adapted and became a part of our family. It was an amazing transformation to watch.  Initially, even though he would come inside the house, his paranoia and fear would cause him to hide in the corner of the room behind the table, so no one could directly approach him.  He enjoyed the warmth and the soft carpet, but he was still hesitant and scared.

          Gradually, he began to trust us, to open up to our advances, and was changed by the warmth and love of our family offered.  His defensive and protective fear softened, and as he learned to accept our love, his demeanor changed.  It was a truly remarkable thing to behold to see the fear melt away and be replaced by joy, peace, and actual happiness.  He transformed into a dog that learned to love and live life to its fullest!

          There was nothing more sweet than watching him run with our boys on a hike, with his tail wagging in ecstasy.

          Or snuggle with them or our other dog as they lay on the floor.

Or find a comfortable place of refuge when he was tired from a long day...

  He was a beautiful animal and shared many adventurefs with us throughout the coming years that followed.

            As you can see, Max loved going on adventures with our family!

          You might notice another small scruffy dog in some of these pictures I am posting.  That dog’s name was “Shala”.  She was cute as a button, but her name was short from the Biblical verse in Isaiah 8:1, “Maher-Shalal-hash-baz”, which means, “Destruction is imminent.”

  And believe me; she lived up to the name!  But she is another story altogether which I won’t get into today!

        With Max, I think it was because of the emotional journey that he went through (along with us) from that of being neglected and abused, to realize the peace, love and happiness that life can provide, that we grew so close and attached to him.  I do not believe it was by chance that he was led into our yard and became a part of our existence.

Our adventures with Max shaped our family and brought all of us deep joy and happiness.

          When Max suddenly passed away a few years later, he left a deep hole in our lives that has never been completely filled with the passing of time or other canine companions.

          Our solace comes in knowing that he now runs forever free from his psychological demons in his new divine abode.  I for one believe, that loving dogs like Max all go to Heaven!

          In fact, even as I am writing this blog and scanning through his old pictures, it is with mixed tears of both joy and sadness.  His emotional journey has changed me and our family, and has given us a different insight into abuse in its many forms which is rampant among society today.  It also taught us of the truly healing power of Love when it is given and received unconditionally.

          But now I would like to revert back to an earlier part of the story, which conveys the main message I want to share with you today.

          It was back in those first tenuous days as Max hunkered around our back yard in fear and ran away in terror every time we stepped outside. There was one moment when I watched him through the window, from inside the warmth of my home, and I remember thinking:

 “If only I could become a dog like him for a short period of time… then perhaps I could convince him that I am his friend, and convince him to come into the warmth and love we have to offer him where we dwell.”

          As these thoughts ran through my mind on that snowy December day, the Spirit touched my heart and brought a startling truth and understanding,

“That is why the Savior did it!  That is why he descended from His heavenly abode and came down among us!  That is why a divine God and Creator would condescend from His throne on high and be born in a lowly stable!”

          Our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ came down so that He could be like us, and show us the way, and try to convince us of the reality of the love and warmth we can share with Him if we will but follow Him, and come unto Him... So that we can be transformed by the power of His love and dwell in the peace and happiness He has to offer all of us!

          That is why we celebrate the babe born in Bethlehem and call Him our "King, Wonderful, Counselor, The Mighty God, The Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace! " THAT IS THE TRUE MEANING OF CHRISTMAS!!!

But there is yet another truth we need to understand about our experience with Max.  And that is that for the Lord's healing touch to have full affect on us, we need to reach the point where we can go "ALL IN" with what He is offering.

       Too often, we experience the gospel, or read the scriptures, or attempt to pray, but we are like Max on the back threshold of our doorstep in those early hesitant days.  We attempt to keep our feet out in the world, falsely thinking this is where our true safety zone is.  We stretch our necks out to partake of what is being spiritually offered, but like he did with his food dish, we drag it and ourselves back out into the cold, harsh world once again.

       Or we decide we want to enter in somewhat, but sit in the back, hiding in corners, trying to feel the warmth of the gospel, but not really opening up to the fullness of love which is being offered.

      No, it is only when we let down our spiritual guard and decide to go "All In" that we can truly become transformed by the depth and fullness of the love and healing Christ has to offer us.  Mercifully, He is patient with and rejoices in our efforts to pray tentatively, enter in hesitantly, and partake even partially.  But in reality, what He truly wants of us, it to partake FULLY and COMPLETELY.  When we finally open our hearts and let down our guard and quit trying to wander back out into worldly things, that is when the true miracles of change and transformation happen in our souls.

          Thank you Max, for helping teach me and all of us these profound and eternal lessons!

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!!!