Living

Green shoots grasp at the afternoon air.  Some have become full grown leaves, taking in sunlight and air for nighttime photosynthesis.  Elegantly gnarled, the trunk twists following the three lines of heaven, earth, and man.  One and a half feet curls the bonsai tree. 

In and out and around, he weaves a web of incomprehensible beauty.  Beauty that speaks to his origins.  A little seed, struggling to survive in the fabricated tropical atmosphere.  Finally, he breaks through the surface of the soil to experience the light and air.

Soon, a man comes over and begins to tie him down at painful angles.  Still he grew.  The bonds moved while he continued growing in that direction; then, the bonds appeared again at a different angle, turning him back from where he came from.  The pain.  The confusion.  All he wanted was to grow up and stand tall.

Only later does the bonsai realize that the forced turns and bonds gave him the grace and beauty he now enjoys.  In the same way, our Lord gives us commandments and callings that may seem to bind us down; yet, these very bonds will be the path to a bright and elegant future.

Follow Him

This past week taught me knew insights about teaching.  I am in the middle of teaching a seminary class at Timpview High and have learned about the importance of following the Master Teacher in preparing my lessons.  I know the subject matter is different but I feel the same principles of faith that I have been learning this week apply to teaching English as well as Seminary.

I spent a lot of time preparing the first lesson I taught the kids.  We are in Isaiah and so I wanted to help them understand how he switches time periods without warning so that they would better understand when they read him on their own.  I made up mnemonics, planned a jigsaw activity, and worked on my management.  Everything as good teacher should do, except one thing.  I did not take the time to think if this is what the students needed and how I could make it relevant to them.  Because I omitted these two items in my excitement to teach them something that I knew, I limited the help that the Lord could give me in my preparations and in consequence the lesson did not take root in my students.

I went about preparing for lessons two and three differently.  First, I sought the help of the Lord, and acknowledged to him that I was insufficient and needed his help.  Having this kind of attitude changed how I prepared my lessons.  There were still well thought out and well managed, but now I have the guidance of the Holy Ghost to know better how to reach the hearts and minds of the students.   The change really was night to day.  The students became excited, participated, and learned. 

I know that as we prepare to do our student teaching/internships, if we seek the guidance of the Lord, He will reach out and touch us so that we can in turn touch our students lives and help them prepare for their futures.  He wants them to succeed even more than we do and He will help.  With Him, we cannot fail!

An Informational Text On A Returns Expireince

To begin with, in order to return an item to Amazon you will need

1. To log into your Amazon account (not necessary but advisable).

2. Click on the help button in the top right-hand corner of the screen.

3. Click on the "How to Return" link.

4. Click on "Return Mailing Labels."

5. Click on the "Amazon Return Center."

6. Choose your return option from "New Returns" or "Gift Returns"

7. Fill in the information needed (your name and email)

8. Enter the item ID code that was shipped with the package.

9. What?   No ID code, contact us for help.

Dang, I was going to copy some of the dialogue I just had with Aamir about returning items from my wedding registry.  I found out some very valuable information that I would like to share.

1. Do not lose any packing information for an item because you will need the packing number to return an item.

2. Amazon does not keep a record of who buys from your registry.

3. There is a bug in the Amazon registry that deleted all records of any items bought from them for Brooke and myself.

4. The employees, though unable to help due to Amazon policy, are amiable over chat.

Anyways, I wanted to share this information in case any of you are looking to register with Amazon.  Contemplating my previous decision, I would also advise you to check the ratings of any item that you register for; I am not sure how these bamboo cutting boards are going to work out now that we cannot get rid of them!

Voice

Children bring a smile to the heart.  Tonight the Provo school district hosted an elementary choir concert with kids from all of the elementary schools in the district.  Brooke wanted to see the Westridge kids.  They performed wonderfully with a bongo accompaniment.  However, imagine her delight when she learned Provo Peaks came to sing as well.  She finished her student teaching there in a sixth grade class.

The Provo Peaks choir began to sing.  Their voices melded together; yet, there was something.  A dissonance in the voices.  I eventually located the child.  They had placed him in the front row.  I smiled.  He sang with his whole body, his head swinging back and forth showing both hearing aids at different angles.  Every now and again, he would become especially invigorated and his voice would blast into the nearby microphone. The pitch would go up sharply and then back down when he ran out of air. 

The music may not have been Mozart, but the heart involved communicated feeling that only an artist understands.  I smiled.

To Offend or Not Offend

Friends!  We love friends!  One of our friend couples, who will remain nameless, came over to our house for Family Night.  They offered to bring the treat and we accepted.  Who can give up good food from friends. 

They arrived with some wonderful rhubarb crisp and a half gallon of ice cream.  I eyed the ingredients of the ice cream, my hear sunk, dang, corn syrup; the bane of my existence!  My corn allergy haunts me wherever I go.  Natural corn I can eat; however, almost everything eatable contains some kind of processed corn and that is what kills me - not literally.  I get a really upset stomach and all the issues that come with it, sometimes, I wish that my allergy were deathly; then, I would be able to avoid it more thoroughly. 

Let me explain.  When my good friends who I admire and love came over to our apartment for the first time bearing lethal ice cream, what could I do except eat what I was offered.  Now many of you are thinking: okay, they are your friends and will understand your circumstance.  Yes, you are right, they would; I know that they would be okay if I told them I could not have the ice cream; yet, I have too much of South America in my blood to do it.  No, I am not Latino, even a little bit by blood, but I did serve the Latino people of Ecuador for two years.  In those two years I spent all of my time with people who would rather die than give offense.  Marinating in that mentality for two years has changed me.

Needless to say, both my wife and I want the recipe for the rhubarb crisp, a better desert I have not had.  And I, I, am suffering from an over does of corn syrup found in 98 percent of ice creams.  Tasted like a dream, punishes like a nightmare.  Such is life.

Of Length and Peace

Isaiah.  The first block I will be teaching reaches from Isaiah 24-29, a doable stretch.  The second block.  Isaiah 30-47.  Seventeen chapters of Isaiah to analyze, understand, apply, and then teach to high school age kids with a focus on relevance.  Don't get me wrong.  There is a lot there and that is part of the problem.  There is a lot there. Isaiah does not just come like some scripture.  One has to struggle, wrestle, and spend time to understand everything.  Sometimes, I just can't seem to grasp his words. 

Yesterday was one of these times.  I was focusing a little too much on getting the new TV up and running with my friend; not an activity conducive to the Sabbath Day.  After we finished, my mind still reeled with organization; was everything in the right place; and man, I could not stop thinking, that looks good. 

Then I sat down to read Isaiah.  The first paragraph left me stumped.  I did not understand what he was talking about at all.  My mind would not settle; I was still focused on the TV.  Finally I gave up and prayed.  I still could not focus. I prayed again.  Still no understanding came.  I asked my wife to pray with me.  Bingo!  I found the peace that allows the Spirit to teach and I could read, study, and understand.

Often, the world comes into your mind and keeps you from focusing on what is most important.  Satan loves it when we can't recognize up from down because that is when we are most vulnerable.  Yet, the Lord is always there and he will come to our aid as we diligently seek him.

Decisions, Decisions

Brooke and I work our in the morning using Just Dance on the Wii.  When we moved into our new apartment, we had no room for the TV.  My ex-roommates kept it for us until we has everything organized and a space to place it in.  Finally, in the second week of our marriage, everything was in place.  We even scavenged an entertainment center someone had put out by the dumpster. 

The TV fit perfectly, with one exception.  It wouldn’t turn on.  We checked to make sure it was plugged into an outlet with power and it still did not work.  We have friends living across the way form us and when I told him that I could not get the TV working, he said, “I’ll be right over.”  I guess I should have told him that I had run all the tests he was running because he did everything I had done to the same effect.  The TV still did not turn on.  Finally, he looked at me and said, “You need a new one.  I’ll go to Cosco with you, we can go man shopping!”  Pausing her added with a wink and a whisper, “Don’t tell Brooke, what she doesn’t know can’t hurt you.”  She heard that.

Anyways, my friend, his wife, Brooke and I all ended up at Cosco today to look at TVs.  I told Brooke that we would not necessarily be buying one today but lets face it, no one likes having to go out and shop again for something right in front of you.  I had a hard time picking something out.

The guys will appreciate my dilemma.  For 180 dollars I could get a 1080p 24 inch flat-screen.  It is small but the definition is excellent or we could get a 32 inch flat-screen 780p for 260 dollars.  The size makes a difference if you are watching with subtitles or if there is something small on the TV.  I ran and looked at one, then the other.   I put the 24 inch in the cart.  I kept looking around at the other TVs.  I compared the hook-up system in the back.  I debated with Brooke and my friend.  Finally Brooke and I made the decision: I put the 24 inch back on the shelf, wincing with pain, 1080p – I picked up the 32 inch and gently placed it in the cart, feeling better as I looked at the size. 

Now – for the rest of the groceries…

Almost Missed Today

My wife and I just returned from the dollar theater.  We left home with the intention to see the new Sherlock Holms movie.  Imagine my frustration when we get there 15 min early and it is sold out.  Friday nights, gotta love'em.  Anyways, I felt like i had to settle for another movie.  "Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close" intrigued me.  I looked at my wife, she nodded her head.  I bought the tickets.

What an experience.  I felt as though I were a passenger on the journey with our young hero.  The director orcastrated the film in a way that I felt a little bit what it might be like to live life as a young man with Asperger's disease.  I wont add any more details but it is enough that I could feel his journey as he made it.  I gasped when he gasped and I made connections when he made them.  I was so enthralled that I did not notice the constant music coming from someones ipod during the movie; at least not until my wife pointed it out.  I thought it must be a part of the movie because no one comes to see this kind of movie and then listens to their ipod.  The movie continued and I forgot about the music.

The end left me sitting without the desire to leave.  The credit music rolled over me like waves on the warm beach of Porta Pinllasco, Mexico.  Eventually, we decided to leave and let the people in our row out; though, i think they were as mesmerized as we.

Once in the car and moving I noticed that I could hear Wicked playing in the background.  I messed with Brooke's radio thinking it was coming from there.  It wasn't.  Confused, I pulled my phone out of my pocket to discover that Pandora had been playing for the past three hours. 

To Be, Or Not To Be. That Is The Question!

Nobody panic, I am not contemplating suicide as our good friend Hamlet.  Instead, I am referring to two exotic plants that my mother-in-law bought Brooke and I for our wedding reception.

Light yellow lines followed the contours of the veins in their broad green leaves; yet, if you were to lift up and look under the leaves, you would find a rich dark purple.  Brooke and I dreamed of placing them alongside the Faika bonsai tree that I had presented to her the day I asked her to marry me.  It seemed fitting, the engagement tree in between the marriage plants.

Alas, our dream was not meant to be.  After the wedding, our family brought our presents and plants to our apartment and left them for us.  After three days at the Grand America in SLC, we returned, excited to get decorating.  Having enjoyed my floral design class, I wanted to find our tropical plants and make sure that they would be somewhere ascetically pleasing. 

The dark apartment waited for us as we unlocked first the dead bolt and then the doorknob.  The blinds had been drawn to keep others from seeing we were not home.  Dragging as much luggage as I could, I hoisted it over the presents on the floor to our bedroom.  After a few trips we finished emptying the car.  I glanced over our living room and into the kitchen, there sat our exotic plants.  Brown and black death lined the once luscious leaves, leaving a small pocket of green along the center of a few leaves. 

Hurriedly, we watered them and placed them in some light and over the next few days, I trimmed away the dead leaves and hopped for a comeback.  Slowly, the green spread in the few living leaves; however, the purple bottom of the leaves looked a lot like the dead brown color and in a moment of sad stupor, I trimmed some of the living leaves on both plants.

Realizing what I had done, I examined the remaining leaves for healthy growth.  I spotted spots of green and even a strip down the center of a leaf.  I cared for them with the hope of a future and a prayer in my heart; to no avail.  These wonderful plants met their end just yesterday.  They are buried in a whited plastic sepulcher and will be there until the worms and insects destroy its flesh.  For these plants it is not to be.

Seminary Spotlight

"I'm nervous -- Are you nervous?" The class just stared back, I felt like the car about to hit the deer.  The deer sure is surprised and the car is destroyed.

Pictures, I know I have some pictures on the next slide.  That should help, there is still a chance to save this deer.  "What do you know about me from these pictures?"

"You're married!" shouts a few students.

"Almost," I say.

"Engaged to be married then."

"Yep, I will marry Brooke on February 18th."

"Wow, that is right around the corner."

"That's right.  The next time you see me, I will be married!"

Smiles broke out around the classroom.  "Ok," I think.  "I can do this."  And I did.

Long Time No Write

It has been a long time since I have written to this blog.  I guess wedding plans have taken the cake time-wise.

Speaking of cake, we are going to have the best of all worlds.  A carrot cake layer for the ground level, German chocolate for the second floor and the third is to be lemon ma-range.  Mmmmmmm.  The other day, Brooke's aunt who is helping to make the cake brought over a sample of the chocolate cake and I died, went to heaven, and came back for more.

I must be on a cake kick because of the strawberry pie Brooke's grandmother made; I tried it today and fell in love.  I must be hungry to be talking about all of this food.

Shotokai

For the past few weeks I have been busy with wedding planning and homework.  I have been unable to do some things that I really enjoy, Shotokai Karate being one of them.

Finally, last night, I was able to attend practice.  My muscles ached, protesting the now unfamiliar strain.  My mind careened every now and again; not used to the mental exertions.  My excitement grew as the time passed.  Pain came, pain left.  The joy of focus remained. 

"My car won't start.  Can you come pick me up?"

"Of course I will pick you up," I think as I walk down the south hill for BYU.  "You are my Fiancé."  My car waits, now the only means of transport for a school teacher and a BYU student.  When I arrive at the scene there is a fellow teacher helping Brooke trouble shoot the engine.  We decide that the problem must be the battery.  A quick battery test validates our fears. 

"A trickle charge should do it," claims the mechanic.  "As long as the battery is still good."  It isn't.

I hook up a new battery gleaming with black promise.  I tell Brooke to turn the key.

Nothing.

She tries again.  Again, nothing.

Did I hook it up wrong?  Is there another problem?  I don't know.  I call my dad and he agrees to come out.  After he arrives I can tell he is getting frustrated with the situation.  I had hooked everything up right and nothing else seemed to be amiss.

"Let's tow it to a mechanic," suggests dad.  "I've got some climbing rope we can use."

As I stepped into the car being towed, I felt time slip away.  I was in Wyoming again and was helping my dad tow a truck, a tractor, a war member's car.  I had to focus on keeping the line taunt with out causing the truck to break unnecessarily. Time found me contemplating nothing important and everything at the same time.  Finally, the transcendental moment passed and I found myself discussing my fiance's car with the mechanic. 

Jamba, Anyone?

On my way to the Center for Service and Learning I ordered a Mango-go-a-go, then entered the office.  I would come back out in five and get my drink.  My phone vibrates.

I read the text from my mother.  I feel as if a mountain sits on my shoulders. The text reminds me that I need to send her the information of how many people will be at the lunchin for my wedding and where the lunch will be held.  I know she is helping me out but it reminds me of the discussion I had with my future mother-in-law the other day where we discovered that maybe a lunchin would be too much on the day of the wedding.  These memories only enhance my agitation. 

I call my mom.

A minute into the conversation and I feel more than agitated.  I am stressed beyond control.  I ask her to just let me speak.  I explain the concerns as best as possible and wait.

“Let’s not do it then.” But we need to do something….

“We can do a dinner the night before for immediate family only.”  Should we?  What about the people that come to the sealing, shouldn’t we provide lunch for them? I stammer my thoughts.

“They will just have to fend for themselves.”  It breaks tradition, will people be insulted?  Yet, I cannot deny that the idea brings the breath of relief to me as I hang up the phone and begin to think about which homework assignment to attack first.  It has been twenty minutes.  As I adjust my computer scree, I remember that my Jamba was waiting for me outside.