What is Love? It's bringing a dead soldier back to the trenches

The story is told of a soldier who asked his superior officer if he might go out into a dangerous area between the trenches to bring in a seriously wounded comrade.

“‘You can go,’ said the officer, ‘but it’s not worth it. Your friend is probably killed, and you will throw your own life away.’ But the man went. Somehow, he managed to get to his friend, hoist him onto his shoulder, and bring him back to the trenches. The two of them tumbled together and lay in the bottom of a trench. The officer looked very tenderly on the would-be rescuer, and then said, ‘I told you it wouldn’t be worth it. Your friend is dead, and you are wounded.’

“‘It was worth it though, sir.’

“‘How do you mean “worth it”? I tell you, your friend is dead.’

“‘Yes, sir,’ the boy answered, ‘but it was worth it, because when I got to him he said, “I knew you’d come”’” (A Story to Tell, comp. General Board of the Primary Association and Deseret Sunday School Union Board [Salt Lake City: Deseret Book Co., 1945], p. 28).

All around us are those that are in need of assistance. Sometimes we assist and sometimes we shy away from the opportunity or don't even know the opportunity is there. How faithful are we to those we love? How loyal are we to our friends? How compassionate are we to a stranger? How kind are we to an enemy?

Go after and help those in need. You never know whose angel you are supposed to be.

What is Love? It's bringing a dead soldier back to the trenches.

What is Love? It's sharing your birthday with Jesus

It's that special time of year, that special holiday. That's right. It's my wife's birthday. Her birthday always falls on Christmas, December 25th.


Megan has always gotten the shaft having to share her birthday with the Savior of the World, but each year she graciously steps aside to honor the King of kings. We try to honor her day in the midst of His day, however. And for three years we have tried to honor her on her day with what we have called The M-other Project.


You can click here to see our yearly video honoring my wife. Happy Birthday Megan... and Jesus.


What is Love? It's sharing your birthday with Jesus.

What is Love? It's finding out Maria's age

Maria is ten years older than José, and next year she will be twice as old as José. How old are they now?

Okay, so this problem came up for me the other day. Long story short... I needed to solve for M (Maria). I had no idea how to do it and after asking a colleague or two I was still stumped. I sent the problem to my wife and she gave me the right answer but couldn't show me how she got the right answer.

It was time to swallow my pride and go back to the source of all math truth... my Dad. I sent him an email with the problem and told him I would explain why I needed the answer later. He then sent me a dissertation on how to solve for M and it made sense. I thanked him profusely and then realized it was the first time since geometry in 10th grade that I actually enjoyed math.

It reminded me of Mark Twain's quote: “When I was a boy of 14, my father was so ignorant I could hardly stand to have the old man around. But when I got to be 21, I was astonished at how much the old man had learned in seven years.”

Thanks for being patient with me Dad. It only took 21 years for me to understand your math lesson.

What is Love? It's finding out Maria's age.

Maria is 19 BTW. M=J+10 Therefore: M+1=2(J+1)

What is Love? It's giving root beer floats to half of your kids

Weeks ago two of our boys got in trouble. (We'll let them remain nameless for this blog post.) As punishment for their crimes we said they could not have dessert after dinner.

As it happened, a family in the neighborhood invited us over for root beer floats that evening. We readily agreed and made our way over to their house shortly after dinner. Not a word was spoken between Megan and I as to whether or not our boys would get to have a root beer float, but both of us knew we would have to face that challenge soon.
We had a great time at the neighbor's and the time came for root beer floats. The family started to dish them up and our two troublemakers looked up at us with forlorn faces.

The family asked how many to make and we were at a crossroads:

1. Let the boys have a root beer float to avoid awkwardness, airing our dirty laundry, and the sadness that accompanies leaving a child out of the fun.

2. Stick to our principles and make sure our children understand that there are consequences for poor choices in spite of the heartache we would undoubtedly feel from withholding the treat when everyone else gets one.

"These two won't be getting a root beer float tonight" we said.

It was hard, it was sad, but it was the right thing to do. So much of this generation is "entitled" to whatever they want. Our kids need to know that choices have consequences. If parents won't teach kids responsibility and accountability then the court system certainly will.

What is Love? It's giving root beer floats to half of your kids.

What is Love? It's an 8 year old angel

Spencer W. Kimball once said: "God does notice us, and he watches over us, but it is usually through another person that he meets our needs."

For the last several months my wife, Megan, has taken it upon herself to teach our boys the power and importance of service. We call it "Service Saturdays."

Megan designates one Saturday each month where she tells the boys to get their gloves on and grab some tools to go do some good in the community where we live. Our oldest boys are 9 and 7 (soon to be 8).

They jump in the car without a complaint, say a prayer that God will direct them to do good, and off they go looking for someone to help. That alone is impressive and I praise my wife for her efforts to make men out of boys. But it doesn't stop there. Each Service Saturday has met with a great experience for my boys. Two Saturday's ago was no exception.

A few weeks ago Rexburg, Idaho was hit with a flash flood. Mr. Harrop had just had back surgery, Mrs. Harrop had a bad knee and the flash flood got mud and water in their basement through their basement window well. Megan and the boys showed up in time to see Mrs. Harrop outside trying to clean up the mess the flood had caused a fews days previous. After some persistence, Mrs. Harrop agreed to let the boys help and they went to work. She started to cry and said she was at her wits end and didn't know what to do when they suddenly pulled up and offered to help. She called them angels.

She called my boys angels.

The boys got down and helped loosen the dirt and dug up the rocks from the window well and put the rocks in a bucket, then to a wheelbarrow, then dumped the wheelbarrow.

Although Mrs. Harrop was grateful for an act of kindness, words cannot express the appreciation I felt for a mother who took my boys to serve and a women who let them move rocks.

What is love? It's an 8 year old angel.

What is Love? It's a neighborhood firework show

America's Independence Day is my favorite holiday of the year. Each year we attempt to have a firework show in our driveway. We invite all the neighbors over and let the kids have fun with the smaller fireworks before bringing out the "aerials."

This year was no different. We had about 50 friends and neighbors come over and enjoy the evening together. This year I decided it was time to take our fireworks to the next level. I created a movie and music to go with the firework display. The kids got excited about that and wanted to step it up too. They decided they would put together a patriotic song and sing it that night.

So, showtime came. We played with smaller fireworks for an hour or so. We then welcomed everyone to our driveway, the kids sang their song, we queued the movie and music which led right in to our firework display. Thank you all for coming. Thank you for being great neighbors, and thank you for all those who have fought and died for our country. You can view my video here.

God Bless America.

What is Love? It's a neighborhood firework show.

What is Love? It's eating potato chips with God

I periodically receive email messages that contain a thought provoking message. Who knows where these emails come from or their authenticity but one that I read today, forwarded from my mother, touched me in the right way.

I once heard someone say: "You never know whose angel you are supposed to be." I have also read the following: "God does notice us, and he watches over us. But it is usually through another person that he meets our needs." (Find quote in context here.)

The short email message forwarded to me today fits with the quotes above. You never know how you will help another in life's journey. Enjoy:

A little boy wanted to meet God. He knew it was a long trip to where God lived, so he packed his suitcase with a big bag of potato chips and a six-pack of root beer, and started his journey.

When he had gone about three blocks, he met an old man. He was sitting in the park, just staring at some pigeons. The boy sat down next to him and opened his suitcase. He was about to take a drink from his root beer, when he noticed that the old man looked hungry, so he offered him some chips. The man gratefully accepted it and smiled at him.

His smile was so pretty that the boy wanted to see it again, so he offered him a root beer. Again, he smiled at him. The boy was delighted! They sat there all afternoon eating and smiling, but they never said a word.

As twilight approached, the boy realized how tired he was and he got up to leave; but before he had gone more than a few steps, he turned around, ran back to the old man, and gave him a hug. He gave him his biggest smile ever.

When the boy opened the door to his house a short time later, his mother was surprised by the look of joy on his face. She asked him, "What did you do today that made you so happy?" He replied, "I had lunch with God." But before his mother could respond, he added, "You know what? He's got the most beautiful smile I've ever seen!"

Meanwhile, the old man, also radiant with joy, returned to his home. His son was stunned by the look of peace on his face and he asked, "Dad, what did you do today that made you so happy?"

He replied "I ate potato chips in the park with God." However, before his son responded, he added, "You know, he's much younger than I expected."

What is Love? It's eating potato chips with God.

What is Love? You can find it at the Tomb of the Unknowns

Years ago I had the opportunity, no, the privilege of visiting Arlington National Cemetery in Washington D.C. Arlington sits on a bluff south of D.C. looking at the Potomac River. It is a beautiful and holy place. I was there on a Sunday and could not think of a better way to keep the Sabbath day holy. I was there for 5 hours.

Of the many monuments, memorials, and tributes one can find in Arlington, one thing stands out beyond all others: The Tomb of the Unknowns.

The Tomb of the Unknowns or Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, as it is often called, is a monument dedicated to American service members who have died without their remains being identified. These military service members paid the ultimate price for our country and we do not know who they are. The most sacred of thank yous to these unknown soldiers is a series of guards that watch over the tomb 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year. When I was there years ago, I could not help but stand and raise my hand to my heart as I watched these guards pace back and forth ever vigilant of the tomb. I was mesmerized  as I witnessed the changing of the guard and the care those guards took to show the most respect I have ever seen anyone give anything.

Inscribed on the tomb is the following: "Here Rests in Honored Glory, an American Soldier Known But to God."

On this Memorial Day, my heart goes out to the men and women that have given everything to their country. My heart goes out to the families of those that have given everything. You are remembered. You are cherished treasures of this thankful country.

What is Love? You can find it at the Tomb of the Unknowns.

What is Love? It's walking a mile in a wheelchair's shoes

As some of you may know, I work at a university. Two weeks ago it was rainy and cold as I arrived to work that morning. As I began making my way from my car in the parking lot to the building where I work I noticed a student in a wheelchair having a difficult time making his way up the wet sidewalk to a building further up the gradual slope from the administrative building where I work.

My heart sank. I wanted to assist him. I wanted to ask if he needed help, but then I wondered if it was politically correct or even insulting to offer assistance. "A person in a wheelchair wants their independence as much as I do," I thought. I walked passed and left him to continue his struggle up the sidewalk by himself in the wind and rain.

Then I stopped dead in my tracks. "What would Jesus do?" I thought. Better yet, "What did Jesus do?!" As I considered the scriptures about our Savior and Redeemer I said to myself "to heck with political correctness or independence!"

"Hey sir! Could you use some help?" I shouted through the piercing rain.

His eyes filed with tears: "Yes, please help me." came the reply.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I ran over to help him. I grabbed the handles and introduced myself.

McCray was his name. He not only needed assistance but was actually going further than I had anticipated that morning. At the pace he was traveling in that cold, wet, blistery morning he would have been out their another 45 minutes. We got their in 5, together.

We had a cordial conversation and parted ways when we made it to the door.

That was a life changing moment for me. Not because I helped a fellow human being who happened to be in a wheelchair, but because I resolved that day to spend a week only walking where a wheelchair rolls. For a week I attempted to access pathways, sidewalks, buildings, and stories of buildings the way a wheelchair would access them. That week was life changing.

Here is what I learned:
1. To a wheelchair, a mole hill is a mountain
2. To a wheelchair, the bottom of a flight of stairs looks like Mount Everest
3. To a wheelchair, the top of a flight of stairs looks like the Grand Canyon
4. To a wheelchair, walking from point A to point B is more of a maze than a walk
5. To a wheelchair, stepping on a crack won't break your mother's back, but could knock you over
6. To a wheelchair, an elevator is a needle in a haystack
7. To a wheelchair, the wheelchair accessible automatic doors are often broken because of lazy walkers using them too often
8. To a wheelchair, getting somewhere on time takes a lot of planning
9. To a wheelchair, people aren't as considerate as they should be when they see blue disabled stickers
10. For a week I was utterly frustrated at attempting to walk a mile in a wheelchair's shoes.

If you want to appreciate a different perspective, try walking only where a wheelchair walks. You'll never be the same.

Thank you McCray for a life altering experience.

What is Love? It's walking a mile in a wheelchair's shoes.

What is Love? It's the root of the word 'mother'

Years ago I was signing a birthday card for a woman in my life. As I contemplated how to personalize the card I thought of this woman's role as a mother and then in the card I simply wrote:

"You put the 'other' in mother! Happy Birthday!"

While many will agree that not a lot of wisdom or profoundness comes out of my head, what I wrote in that birthday card that day would influence the rest of my life. 

With rare exception, mothers devote their lives to others. the attached link to a video is a good example of what mothers do: http://motherhood.mormon.org/  If we were to take a few moments to consider the amount of time a mother spends helping, nurturing, caring for, cleaning after, shaping, devoting, teaching, consoling, calming, encouraging, reassuring, cheering for, admonishing, praying-hoping-desiring for, loving, coaching, crying with, celebrating, etc., etc., etc., we would not hesitate in being awe inspired at the depth of sacrifice and love a mother gives. 

Truly, the root of the word mother is other.

Happy Mother's Day. Thank God for sending mothers to the world.

What is Love? It is the root of the word 'mother.'

What is Love? It's accepting a globe for a gift

In case any of you have forgotten, are not prepared, or just need a reminder a week out, next Sunday is Mother's day. As I have been contemplating the mothers in our lives, I can't help but think of the great example of my wife. She has been instrumental in so many ways in the lives of our children and in my life as well.

Let me share with you one example of her love, devotion, and quite frankly, her patience.

Years ago, Megan and I spent our first Christmas together. We had been dating for several months and Christmas rolled around with little warning. I wasn't prepared for the celebration and festivities. I was downright insensitive when it came to finding a loving and affection gift for my fiancee.

As I frantically looked through the isles at a local department store, at the end of one isle I saw it! The perfect gift. It would be years later before I came to the realization that some people might not care for the things that tickle my fancy. A globe, I thought, was a universally acceptable, and useful gift for any person. What's more, it lit up when you touched it and offered three different levels of light. It was a 3-level-light globe touch lamp and it was perfect!

Christmas came and in the midst of the present unwrapping frenzy, my future bride-to-be opened my gift. It may have been the biggest test of our young relationship. My fiancee looked at the globe, looked at me, looked back at the globe and said "thank you."

I took it out of the box, poured over it, and even mused at the fact that you could see where we lived better when you plugged it in and touched the lamp.

Every marriage develops inside jokes. These jokes often originate from funny, challenging, and often awkward moments in a marriage. We have been married for 12+ years. Whenever we get something we may not like we ask the other "was this a globe gift?"

We still have the globe... it's on my night stand on my side of the bed. (Sigh) Thank you for your patience Megan.

What is Love? It's accepting a globe for a gift.

What is Love? It's stabbing yourself with a fish hook

So, I didn't have my best day at work today. Wasn't my worst, but wasn't my best. I got home late on top of the not so great day to find that two kids were fighting, one kid was sick and another had been hiding his unfinished homework under his bed... AGAIN! Let's see, that only accounts for four of the five kids. Who knows what the other one was doing.

In any event, tonight was cub scouts. Our cub scout was grounded, but since we made him miss cub scouts a few weeks ago for being grounded Megan and I decided we better let him go.

Tonight was a fishing excursion to a local pond. I was to go with him. I was already annoyed at the day and evening events and getting his fishing rod out of the catacombs of the garage was no simple task. Yes, the barb on the hook does hurt as bad as it looks when inadvertently stabbed into your finger. I was tired, cranky, annoyed and now in pain.

I took my son fishing, and although the cub scout leaders did all the work and taught him all the fishing skills, it was great to be there with my son at the local pond.

Will tomorrow be a better day? Who knows. But I will always have the memory of fishing with my son and a throbbing finger.

Thanks cub scout leaders for ending my day on a good note.

What is Love? It's stabbing yourself with a fish hook.

What is Love? It's watching a sunrise in 40 degree weather

We have a number of family traditions for Easter weekend. Many of these traditions we share with our local community and with Christians around the world.

Some of those traditions include the city-sponsored Easter egg hunt that is scheduled for an hour but really lasts about 3 minutes. Those traditions include hunting around the house for Easter baskets in the most unsuspecting of places, coloring Easter eggs, and those traditions include Sunday ham dinners.

Those traditions include new Sunday dresses for girls and new vests and ties for boys to go to church with millions of other Christians around the world. As a family we also do our best to help our children understand the significance of the Easter holiday and pay our respects to Jesus the Christ.

What may be unique to our family, however, is our own tradition of watching the sunrise on Easter morning. True, in April in Rexburg, Idaho the sun rises at about 6:37am in 40 degree weather. It also generally includes a fair amount of wind and the occasional request from a child to go back inside.

Why, you may ask, do we have this tradition? Well, for the baby who only wore a star for a crown at his birth and had nothing more than a sunrise for a trumpet at his glorious resurrection, watching the sun-rise each Easter holiday is a reminder to our family of that day 2,000 years ago when the Son of Man rose from the grave and saved us all. It is a tribute of sorts, a prayer of thanksgiving for the King Emmanuel.

Happy Easter to all!

Had there been no resurrection (Easter), there likely would have been no mention of his birth (Christmas).

What is Love? It's watching a sunrise in 40 degree weather.

What is Love? It's a mom who works while a dad goes on vacation

We have been home a few weeks now from our wonderful Disneyland family vacation. It was a great experience marked with fun on rides, smiles at the attractions, pictures with Disneyland characters, seeing Tinkerbell fly, and the magic of Disney.

Even the 14-hour drive to and from southern California was great!

Our children still talk about the good times (and still wear their Disney hats to school). It couldn't have been a better experience. Well, I could have gone without my phone being broken in the Winnie the Pooh ride line, but no matter, it's only a phone.

Here's the deal though. It wasn't until we got home before I realized one very important aspect of the trip, and here is where the love comes in to the post.

Megan has always known that I have pixie dust in my blood. I was affected by the magic of Disney at a very young age and it has stayed with me my whole life. I have always wanted to be a "Dad at Disney" and Megan gave me my chance. What is remarkable though is the sacrifices Megan made to make the magic happen. My last post gave credence to her budgeting prowess, but the greater love Megan showed us was by agreeing to go on this trip at all.

Four of our five children are now in some form of school and moms' already have a hard enough time dealing with kids half the day let alone all day in a car, or a hotel, or stressing about kids by the pool, or a busy theme park with cranky tired kids where all we eat for two weeks is peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

Looking at it from one point of view, it would be easy to see how this trip was more work than a vacation for Mom. Sure, Dad gets to take 2 weeks off of work (and his Master's degree program) to get away with the family he rarely sees. Mom just gets more of the same! Looking at it from one point of view, it would be easy to see how Mom might rather want go on an all expenses paid cruise by herself where she can sit on the deck and read, or go in the adults only pool, or eat for two hours at a buffet, or sleep in, or go to a late night cruise show. Disney with Dad and the kids might pail in comparison to that cruise ship scenario.

In the end, I know Megan had fun, I even think she came away glowing of pixie dust a little. But I am grateful that she would make the sacrifice to take us all to Disneyland when there may be 10 or more places she would rather go. I won't risk asking her if that is true, but instead just thank her for the "vacation."

What is Love? It's a mom who works while a dad goes on vacation.

What is Love? It's waiting 10 years to see Mickey

10 years ago we made a commitment to some friends in college. That commitment involved a Disney trip with our future kids. That time has come and I can say that I am very excited for the opportunity to take my kids to Disneyland.

Some of my greatest memories as a child were the two times my parents took my brother and I to Disneyland. I hope to make similar memories with my children in the coming days.

And although I think these memory making opportunities are a sign of familial love, this post is about the love shown in waiting 10 years to go  on such an extravagant trip.

You see, this trip is completely paid for. I don't take any of the credit for that. My wife, who I affectionately refer to as "Megan the Miser," has budgeted everything out and all expenses have been paid!

Early in our marriage we decided that we would work towards always being debt free. With that commitment came the interest in finding budgeting techniques that would work for our family. We stumbled upon Dave Ramsey's 7 baby steps approach. They are:

1. $1,000 emergency fund.
2. Pay of all consumer/credit card debt.
3. 6 month emergency fund.
4. 12-15% in retirement fund.
5. Kids' College fund.
6. Pay off mortgage on house early.
7. Build wealth and give lots away!

Now, I won't disclose where Megan and I are at in the process, but I will say that we have taken several "baby steps" to our complete financial freedom!

It is a joy to be taking our 5 kids on this expensive trip. (Thanks Dad and Mom for making a similar commitment years ago.) But what is more joyous is to be doing it on a budget and to have the trip completely paid off! - Thanks Megs! Disneyland or Bust!

What is Love? It's waiting 10 years to see Mickey.

What is Love? It's a neighbor with a garden hose

I missed posting my once-a-week blog post last Sunday. I have an explanation. It's a good excuse for missing my post, but not a good reason.

So I grew up in the suburbs of Seattle. I'm a city slicker. Although my dad went to great lengths to get us in the wild on camping trips and forest hikes what I didn't do much of growing up was building homes and fixing my carburetor. The closest I ever came to being a "handyman" was one time when my brother and I helped my Dad get our drill bit stuck in the catalytic converter of my car while trying to drill a hole through the filter so it could pass emissions. Good times.

Anyway, when Megan and I moved to Southeast Idaho we discovered that most families seemed to be raised to know how to do things like install their own electrical outlets and outdoor sprinkler systems.

Whatever.

That gets us to my excuse for not posting two days ago. Every year when Spring begins to arrive in Southeast Idaho my neighbor calls me to say its time to "burn our ditch."

History lesson: irrigation is the primary method of watering the farm crops in Southeast Idaho. Irrigation canals and ditches are spread throughout the region to provide water to the farmers. We happen to have an irrigation ditch in our back yard and like any true Idahoan we burn the dead vegetation off the banks of the ditch to help the water flow better when the water is channeled through the system later in Spring.

Each year my neighbor (who is from Idaho) and myself (who is not from Idaho) attempt to burn the ditch. Each year we burn the ditch and each year we almost create a wild fire. This year was no exception. We burned last Saturday and our goal this year was to not stir up any attention by doing it wrong or almost burning down something that shouldn't be burnt down. I thought we had extinguished all the embers that evening and I went to bed. I left early Sunday morning (before dawn) for some church meetings when I got a text later that morning from Megan saying there was smoke coming from the ditch. I came home in between meetings to douse the smoke with water and then went back to Church. I stayed after our services to do some other things after my family went home and again received another text stating the smoke was billowing and another shortly thereafter stating simply: "There's fire!"

I came home immediately to see several neighbors running through our yard with garden hoses to flames in a different neighbor's trees. I jumped out of my car and ran to the blaze with hose in hand and jumped into the canal. With the help of friends and neighbors we were able to suppress the flames and we put sprinklers on the ditch for the next eight hours.

I learned three lessons on Sunday:

1.) I am not from Idaho and shouldn't pretend I know how to burn ditches.
2.) Firefighting in a suit, white shirt, and tie is not advisable.
2.) Neighbors are important for many reasons not the least of which is for their tools and their help.

What is Love? It's a neighbor with a garden hose.

What is Love? It's a delivery from the cheeseburger fairy

A week ago my wife Megan and I were on a date. Okay, we were running errands that we like to call a "date." (You take what you can get when you have five kids from 10 down to 1 year old.)

Anyway, we were on a "date."

Let me give you some context to the discussion that I will lay before you. To save money each month we take our household waste to the dump. We average two trips a month. Believe it or not we save over $300.00 each year. Each trip costs me an average of $2.00. I usually pay with a five dollar bill and then deposit the remaining ones in the ashtray of the Suburban to use for the next dump run.

This is where we get back to our errands-date mentioned previously. So we begin talking about our kids and how Megan was able to get Jacob a cheeseburger one day for some good deed he had done that week. I happened to have the ashtray open to look for a loose bill and noticed the bills deposited previously from my dump run were gone. I put two and two together and realized Jacob's burger came from the dump money. I looked at my wife and she said she got the money from the "cheeseburger fairy."

I cracked a big smile.

Truth be told, for several years I have been depositing the leftover dump money in the ashtray and every so often Megan would find that the cheeseburger fairy had left her some cheeseburger money in her car.

For a couple of years now, the "cheeseburger fairy" has been an unspoken gesture of endearment between Megan and I. She does so much for our family, managing our home, and now even occupies a part-time job of her own that she enjoys. I am grateful to call her my wife and I am grateful she calls me the cheeseburger fairy.

A happy marriage is one where you find little and simple things to do for your significant other.

What is Love? It's a delivery from the cheeseburger fairy.

What is Love? It's a documentary about the Panama Canal

Several years ago my wife Megan stopped by the thrift store during her day of errands to see if anyone had discarded any treasures. We haven't made a habit of going to the thrift store, but over the years we have found several good books, two nativity sets, and a few other treasures that simply needed a good shine. As I recall, Megan had gone down the video aisle to see if any good movies were available for purchase. Barney Camp Wannarunnaround... no. Kathy Lee Feel Fit and Fabulous... no. Star Trek: The Wrath of Khan... no. One movie did stand out to her, however. Not because she wanted it, but because she could not fathom who on earth would ever purchase "A Man, A Plan, A Canal."


She left the store disappointed and bewildered:

"For real, who would ever buy a documentary about the Panama Canal?!"

Fast forward several years ago minus one day. I didn't realize Megan had come up empty handed the previous day. I also stopped by the thrift store on my lunch break to peruse the aisles of less than desirable things people no longer found useful. I had never stopped at the thrift stores on a lunch break, but it was a good release for me on that day. I too made my way down the video aisle. Maybe there was something fun for a Friday night with family and popcorn. Rock and Bop with the Doodlebops... no. Pilates with Suzanne Somers... no. Jane Austen's Mansfield Park... maybe. One movie did stand out to me, however. Not because I not only wanted it, but because I could not fathom who on earth would ever NOT purchase "A Man, A Plan, A Canal."

I left the store satisfied and bewildered:

"For real, who would ever pass by a documentary about the Panama Canal?!"

I knew my Friday night was going to be great.

I went home that evening and very excitedly showed my find to my wife. As I recall, she laughed for about an hour and a half and did not have any more tears when she finally calmed down. She told me she was there the previous day and did not know ANYONE who would buy such a thing.

We watched a chick flick Friday night.

To this day we laugh about how opposites attract and how much we appreciate our similarities and differences.

Happy marriages are filled with stories and inside jokes, laughs and the occasional cry, challenges and triumphs. Really, every happy marriage is a documentary, which may or may not include the Panama Canal.

What is Love? It's a documentary about the Panama Canal.

What is Love? It's a plastic fork and some humble pie

Tomorrow is our wedding anniversary! I am excited to share the day with my wonderful bride. Megan has been great for me in so many ways not the least of which is reminding me that I am not perfect... yet.

Several posts ago I mentioned that my dad shared two pieces of poignant advice for me in my courtship with Megan prior to us getting married. The first, as discussed in that post, had to do with toothbrushes and toothpaste. It was a direct appeal to pay attention to the little things.

The second piece of advice I reveal at this time with much trepidation. Why not on the eve of our special day.

So I am not perfect right?! I know it is hard to believe but it is the truth. So let me describe for you the process by which I ate my first piece of humble pie with a plastic fork. I had never eaten humble pie before and for those of you who have not had the privilege... it is an acquired taste.

While dating, Megan and I had our first official spat. I do remember the details, but I will spare you. In any event, I went to my dad for advice and consolation as I knew I was right and needed help on getting Megan to understand that she was wrong. I remember it like it was yesterday. Dad and I were in the kitchen, I on the bar stool and Dad leaning over the kitchen island counter listening intently. After I had made the best case any lawyer as ever made before the U.S. Supreme Court my Dad went to the kitchen drawer, pulled out a plastic fork and without saying a word handed it to me.

"A plastic fork?"

"Looks like you need to eat some humble pie."

That was it.

I learned that day perhaps the wisest council a father has ever given to his son. That day was the first day of many days where I learned that I have not yet arrived and haven't yet been able to throw away that plastic fork.

Megan, here's to 12 years and 12 more. Thank you for your patience.

What is Love? It's a plastic fork and some humble pie.

What is Love? It's a suit and shoes you probably didn't want to buy

16 years ago I left on a 2-year full-time mission for my church. Occasionally I reflect on the multitude of experiences I had during that time. The opportunity to serve mankind in a variety of ways during my mission has significantly contributed to the man I am today.

The feelings of love, gratitude, and compassion that one gains from serving others is remarkable. The scriptures teach that when we are in the service of our fellow men and women, we are in the service of our God.

But my 2-year service is not what this blog post is about. This post is about two people who purchased a new gray suit and a pair of dress shoes for a cause they neither fully understood nor completely agreed with. You see, I am a convert to the LDS church (www.lds.org) and less than a year after my conversion I was off to a Mormon college and shortly after that I was off to Mexico for two years of service. As part of that missionary service missionaries are required to purchase suits, slacks, white shirts, ties, and sturdy dress shoes to walk hundreds of miles over the course of 2 years.

I was naive. I didn't fully comprehend what was asked of me nor what was asked of my family to fully embrace the mission. I was a member for a short year. My family were not members at all.

And yet, in spite of religious and philosophical difference my father and step-mother made the conscious decision to fund my mission clothing. $700.00+ when all said and done as I recall. I thought I had love to serve in a foreign land. What I have learned recently is that my dad and step-mom had love to give me a suit and shoes for a cause that wasn't their own.

Thanks Dad and Sharon (he says 16 years later).

What is Love? It's a suit and shoes you probably didn't want to buy.