Saturday, February 21, 2009
Dear Mom and Dad
I write this to give you, special respect. I celebrate your lives, your commitment and how you have raised me to reach my potential. I pay tribute to and honor you as my parents.
Thank you for bringing me into this world, that I may have all the experiences of life. The adventures I have had were some of the happiest momenta to some of the saddest. My happiness is founded on all kinds of life stories.
Thank you for our home. It not only provided a roof over my head but a shelter, a protection and a defense from the assaults of the world. In our home, I had the clothing and the nourishment for both body and spirit. I never went without. I was happy.
Thank you for sharing the gospel with me. The teachings of the Savior have sunk deep into my soul. I’ve come to know the joys, the grace and the salvation of the gospel. The gospel is teaching me how to develop a countenance that shows the image of Savior, the image that I can see in both of you.
Thank you for your examples. You have shown me the proper way to instruct, to discipline and most of all, you have demonstrated unconditional Love. I’ve felt your love always, even to this very day.
Thank you for serving in your callings with stoutheartedness, with faithfulness and great courage. You have inspired me. I can see that I can accomplish things that will bring me to greater heights.
Thank you for helping me see the right from wrong. You have taught me to choice the right and now I can feel true blessedness from choosing the right.
Thank you for the unforgettable cakes and calibration on my birthdays. Dad gave the pitch, some singing out of tune, and some not quite the right words, but what I heard was an angelic choir saying “we are gland that you were born”. Singing happy birthday showed me how you have always felt about me. I will forever more know that I am important.
All these things I will share with my children. I will teach them the principles that you have taught me. They will bring a legacy that generations will live, because of you.
I want to be like you. I will hold up the standards that you have held up, I will live that lessons that you have lived, and I will represent our God like you have represented our God.
I cheer and rejoice with delight because my life is so much more manageable and meaningful. You have inspired, encouraged and loved me. Thank you. I love you.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
I would love to pass something down too my children.
Other have passed down necklaces, broaches, dresses, furniture, bibles, stories, genealogy, swords, guns, and countless numbers of heirlooms.
I haven’t given much thought to how I want to present it, maybe with a small ceremony. I just don’t want to say with a passive “hey this was you grandfathers, take care of it” then walk away, or just slip it in the drawer and hope they know what it is and what to do with it.
I saw a man give another man an ornate dagger. It wasn’t just another dagger, the first man new everything about it, where it was made, who made it, the technique how it was made, the balance, the materials, everything. He knew the names of the ancestors that passed it down to him. He holds the knife with great esteem. In the small ceremony between him and the other, whom he gave it to, he choked on his words and past it with great respect. I was moved.
So the question, what would you pass down?
There are things that will be passed down weather I want to pass them on or not. I’ve noticed that I’ve picked up some of my dad and mom’s traits, personality and physical traits. Some of them I don’t like so much, not to be offensive. I hope I will pass down not a dagger, jewelry, clothing, furniture or even books, though they may get all of that. I will pass down the truth. The truth that I was given by a loving, divine Father, and all the things that comes with it: the change of heart, the gifts of love, the knowledge of his grace. The very thing that is molding me into what I am and what I could be. Jesus Christ!
Oh by the way, the man that gave the other the dagger, the other was not his son. He was someone the first man deeply loved.
Remember who you are what you stand for and what you are passing down.
Saturday, February 7, 2009
We have two dogs. Each totally different in It personality.
Porter, our first dog has a large chest, defined muscles and a long snout. He was named after a long ago protector of a prophet, Porter Rockwell. His white body gives him an angelic appearance. His black head reminds me of his quiet deception. I turn my head and he takes advantage, snatching any thing that tastes good.
His breed declares he tarries about for foxes. I have seen him only chase chickens and turkeys. I'm gland his breed doesn't define that part of my dog. Having a dog that would be considered a chicken terrier or a turkey terrier is a little unsettling.
He barks only if he hears the doorbell twice. Then never. When his ears are rubbed, his back is stroked, he will sit next to you with one paw ready to encourage you to continue. When I talk to Porter, I ask him where his girlfriend is, meaning our other dog; he cocks his head and stares at me with eyes that say, “I’ve been neutered”. He uses that same look every time I speak to him. He must sense in me some unconscious guilt.
Snickers, our second dog, makes a glass of Coke nervous. She jitters, fidgets, jumps, shivers, and trembles. She wages her tale, which was not cropped after birth and is now as long as she is, so fast it creates a slight breeze. It also keeps her considerable thin. She looks like a Snickers bar in a dog outfit. Actually she's a min pin.
I saw her once, with great confidence, chase a German Shepard down the street. She wanted to prove that a dog with small little legs, with nothing more then a yap, could chase her Goliath out of her territory. The German Shepard, slightly turned and gave one bark, Snickers flipped backward and yelped all the way home. In her defeat she's a little bigger in my eyes.
She congers spells by staring so intently at me, her ears tipped ever so slightly, charms me into giving her lots of treats and loves. It works every time.
Dogs are awesome. I love them.