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Author Archives: Colby Alexander

Dream Dreams

29 Wednesday Jul 2015

Posted by Colby Alexander in Blessings, Dreams, General, Love, Poems, Sports, Visions

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Barcelona Olympics, Charles Barkley, David Robinson, Magic Johnson, Michael Jordan, Patrick Ewing

Dreams_by_whisperfall1

 

In 1992 the greatest basketball team in the history of the world was assembled. It was the Barcelona Olympics, and for the first time, NBA players were allowed to represent team U.S.A. It was epic.

The team consisted of Larry Bird, Magic Johnson, Michael Jordan, John Stockton, Karl Malone, Scottie Pippin, Clyde Drexler, Charles Barkley, Patrick Ewing, David Robinson, Chris Mullin, and just to be fair to all the other countries, they included some guy from Duke named Christian Laettner.

 

The games weren’t even close enough to be called a joke, they were a complete slaughter. The closest game was a 32 point win over Croatia in the Gold Medal game 117-85.

It was like the Payson, Utah Jr jazz team versus the Harlem Globetrotters. It was fun to watch. They were representing the USA in the game we invented. They were rightly dubbed, the “Dream Team”.

The Dream Team was the epitome of greatness, everyone wanted to be just like them, even the teams they were playing against! They got to live out the most dominant display of basketball skill ever. They were untouchable, beyond reproach, unbeatable, you couldn’t stop them, only hope to contain them. They were a real life dream come true.

They were one kind of “Dream Team” But, we could also put together another team that could share the same name, but in a slightly different context. This other “dream team” could be comprised of all the Prophets or even regular people in scriptures who have had famous “dreams”.

Just to name a few….

Lehi, Nephi, Alma, Omer, Abimlech, Laban the Syrian, Pharaoh, Solomon, Nebuchadnezzar, Jacob, Daniel, Joseph Father of Jesus, and even Pilot’s wife.

Dreams are just one way that the Lord can use to speak to us. He has always used dreams to communicate. Sometimes its to reveal a doctrinal discourse like the Tree of Life, and sometimes its just to warn, or to encourage. And sometimes its just a fun way our brain takes away all the limitations of a mortal mind, and lets loose on the infinite potential of our imagination!

How many times have we had dreams that may be a little more than just us showing up to school in just our underwear? or having all of our teeth fall out? How many times have we been shown something, or seen something, or felt something that may be a bit more meaningful? Is it possible?

The Lord is the same today, yesterday and forever. He did it before, why not now?

In Joel 2:28 it says……

“And it shall come to pass afterward, that I will pour out my spirit upon all flesh; and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, your old men shall dream dreams, your young men shall see visions:

I have had a few times where I have had dreams that were a bit more than the ordinary kind. I have had some that were actually quite meaningful to me. Not exactly like the dreams of Lehi or Nephi, but personal ones that have made a difference in my life. I knew, for example, that my youngest son, would be a boy before we had an ultrasound. I think the Lord gives us little snippets, or hints, just to remind us that He is close, and is aware of us.

Next time we have a special dream, where we see someone who may have passed, or an event we may have been worrying about, or something especially encouraging, maybe we should write it down, and work on the assumption that maybe, just maybe, it was sent to us on purpose, and that it may be our Heavenly Father sending a little note to us, to remind us He is there, and that He is listening.

 

Dream Dreams

When all the noise of day is gone and silence fills our ears,
Our mortal eyes at last we close, and daylight disappears.

And as we dream the dreams that mortal consciousness abates,
Our minds become the canvas where a masterpiece awaits!

We win! We sing! We save the world, with superhuman powers!
No limits to what’s possible! These precious dreaming hours!

We soar through space with ease of thought,
Just wishing- and it’s done!
We fly! defying gravity! Never tiring as we run.

But, sometimes we can see ahead, or we can sense or feel
A moment, person, or event that is, in truth, quite real.

But, when our sleepy eyes again perceive the light of day,
And wakefulness returns, our mortal limits are replaced.

But, even then, some special dreams endure our consciousness.
For they were placed there by design, to act as messages.

Of love, or of encouragement, to comfort or to teach.
Instructions given when the mortal mind is tough to reach!

In wakeful times the constant noise brings deafness to our ears,
But, dreams can be a wink from Heav’n
Reminding us it’s near.

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Snakes and Shoeboxes

17 Friday Jul 2015

Posted by Colby Alexander in General, Opposition

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Every boy, while growing up, loves to catch things. Things like birds, snakes, lizards, bugs, crawdads, water-skeeters and everything that slithers or slinks. It’s what they do. Naturally, the next  best thing to do with whatever it is that we catch, is to keep it as a pet, and then create a natural habitat in a shoebox, and keep it in our room.

In a normal house, however, the new “pet” will have to pass through the Mother sentinel that stands guard at the door inspecting all of the contents of the boys pockets, and mason jars, in order to prevent an infestation inside the house of whatever it was that was caught that may slink or slither.  From the boys perspective, it is like trying to sneak a .50 cal sniper rifle through the TSA checkpoint in New York City. It is very difficult.

But it has happened.

This story happened when I was about 9 or 10 years old. We lived in a super old house that was more like a museum than a house. It was tiny, but the yard was huge. In fact, the back yard was graded so that once a month or so, when we got the irrigation day, the whole entire yard would flood. It was sweet. Beyond our back fence was a huge tree “forest” that might as well been the amazon jungle to us at the time.

irrigation

Casey preparing for Brothers weekend in moab.

irrigation-1

A small flood. Notice the “jungle” beyond the white fence.

One day, on one of our treks through our private jungle, I found a snake. Or, if I remember correctly, Tyson or Casey found the snake, and I came and caught it. It was awesome. It was probably a garter snake or some tiny harmless thing, but to us it was like me basically being Riki-Tiki-Tavi and a snake charmer at the same time and hunting a man-killing giant pit viper in the middle of the jungle. After eluding almost certain death, there was no way that I was going to risk this prize catch getting confiscated by the mother sentinel on the way to my room.

So, I did what every other 9 year old genius would have done. I grabbed a shoe box, pulled up 3 handfuls of grass, shoved them in the box, then placed the snake inside, and closed the lid. He would be comfortable, safe, and be basically living in the lap of luxury in that shoebox. What could go wrong?

All I had to do now, was sneak it in the house. My room I shared with Tyson was in the basement. It wasn’t just any basement, it was a roughly finished basement of a super old home built in 1916. (Not kidding, I looked it up). It would probably be more fitting to call it the catacombs instead of our basement. It would make the perfect home for our new pet.

After sneaking the box into the house, by way of a thoughtfully choreographed with a well executed timely distraction provided by Tyson, I set the shoebox on the foot of my bed. We would sneak peeks at it every 20 minutes or so, just to see how he was adjusting to his new home.  At the end of the day, we went to bed with dreams of what we would do to catch prey and release it into the box and watch it attack and destroy. Life was good in that basement dungeon.

Early the next morning, I arose with great excitement. I hopped up and wandered over to my snake box, and peered in. Nothing. Nada. Zilch. Just matted old grass clippings. I looked up, looked under my bed, looked under my covers, then looked over at Tyson to make sure he was still there and not dead from the bite of our deadly pet. I then looked around at the rest of our room, out of the door and at the rest of the basement. All I saw was our hodgepodge of storage boxes, old furnace equipment, and basically a snake’s garden of Eden. There were millions of hiding places, dark corners, and nesting spots. It was a goner.

I quickly realized that it was likely that in the next few weeks our basement would probably become much like the snake pit in Indiana Jones (see photo above), and be quite uninhabitable for us humans.

I also began to realize that I really wasn’t able to contain that snake in a simple shoebox. I had thought I could control him, contain him, keep a lid on him, enjoy him whenever I wanted, and then return him to his little tiny corner and go on with my life. But, he was a snake, and snakes act like snakes and are sneaky, slinky, and tricky. They will get out. I had learned something very important that day…

Don’t bring a snake into your house.

A lot of different kinds of snakes are slithering all around our homes. They all start on the outside, and that is exactly where they should stay. But, all to often, we get enamored by them, and fascinated by them. They are new, novel, shiny, interesting, and cool. Sometimes, we even invite them inside our homes. We try and control them, keep a lid on them, and keep them as a pet. But, it never works out like we plan. They slip out, and get away. They are snakes after all, that’s what they do. Before long, they infest our home, and soon, we are Indiana Jones dangling from a crumbling walkway above our self imposed snake dungeon, and we need to be rescued.

It’s always better if we simply don’t let snakes in the house. Or, it’s always better if we don’t let THE snake in the house. He is a serpent, and he wants to beguile us, and destroy us. Our homes should be our sanctuary and an escape from the dangers and perils and venomous vipers of the world. But, too often we want to invite those dangers in, just for a day or two, we can control it, keep a lid on it, and then let it go after we have our fun for a while. It won’t work. It doesn’t work with garter snakes, or our favorite sin or bad habit that we have. They get away from us. And then we are in real trouble. Our spiritual lives hang in the balance this time.

Little bit by little bit, we need to try and clean out all the snakes, small and seemingly harmless, or massive and venomous. Because ultimately, we can’t control them, we can’t keep a lid on them, they’re sneaky, and slimy. They are snakes after all, and they will act like it. And if we bring them in, or invite them in, they will take over the house.

These snakes come in many shapes and sizes and colors. They also come in varying potencies. Some may just leave a mark after they strike, while others may be deadly. But they are all snakes. They may be the drug snake, the media snake, the gossip snake, the immorality snake, the laziness snake, the pride snake, the contention snake, or the natural man snake. We all know which ones we tend to let hang around.

We all know to which snakes we are most susceptible. We know which ones tend to charm us with their cunning and sneakiness.  The chief snake of all is also very aware and that’s exactly why he sends the most attractive, cool, hip, and popular snakes to try and charm us.

His goal is to have all of our homes infested with his sneaky, slimy slithering minions.  He has to attack us in the place in which we find refuge, peace, quiet, and love.  Inside our homes.  We cannot let him do this. We have to recognize the snakes that we are allowing into our homes, and gather them up and take them out to the woodshed, and dispose of them. Lets all clean house, and try and maintain our homes as the quiet refuges, and sanctuaries from the world that they should be.

Let’s all try a little harder to keep our homes snake free.

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Graceful Faceplants

12 Sunday Jul 2015

Posted by Colby Alexander in Failure, General, Motivation, Poems, Trials, Weakness

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Everyone loves a good face plant. They are kind of like a car wreck that you can’t turn away from. You watch the video clips in anticipation, not really wanting to see it, but you cant pull away. The video clips often come in the form of a dude on a bike trying some unrealistic acrobatic slide down the railing of some concrete stairs, he makes it down about halfway before something goes horribly wrong and he ends up eating concrete and sliding face first for several feet.

We all watch, cringe, hunch over and yell out, “ooohhhh”, and then bust out laughing and being super grateful that we weren’t the poor sucker that will have road rash on his face for 8 months…..then we watch another one, and the process repeats itself until our stomach starts to turn.

We all love them, because in one way or another, we have all had a face plant or two. We can relate to the feeling of using our nose like sidewalk chalk. Ive done it twice.

The first story occurred back in Brazil while on my mission. It was the last day in the country before boarding a flight to come home. It had been raining for most of the morning, which wasn’t a huge surprise, but the rain had left huge puddles in the road.

My whole district, a group of about 12 guys, had met up at the office and were on our way to the president’s house a few blocks away for a big celebration lunch. It was going to be awesome. We were all super pumped about seeing each other again after the 2 years in Brazil, and we were going to go have some seriously awesome food at the presidents house.

This is where the drama unfolds. The aforementioned puddles in the road? Yes, these turned out to be a huge obstacle in our 3 block walk because the sidewalk was right along the road, and the Brazilian bus drivers show no mercy. As a side note, Brazilian bus drivers think that using the clutch to shift while driving  is an unnecessary act, that only slows them down. So, seeing a pack of Mormon missionaries walking clumped together about 18 inches away from a 14 foot puddle in the road was certainly no reason to slow down. Can you see where this is going?

So, Imagine all 12 of us walking along this wet, 5 foot wide sidewalk, rubber shoes, 14 foot puddles, speeding busses, and of course, the star of the show, a metal guardrail post.

When it all went down, I happened to be walking right next to one of my favorite elders, who looked and acted a lot like Chris Farley. We were just coming up on a massive puddle, and we saw a speeding bus screaming around the corner towards us, I think upon seeing us, the bus driver  may have actually sped up, and likely swerved a little closer to the sidewalk in order to completely shower every one of us in our white shirts.

Me, being the ever vigilant and aware guy that I was, saw this coming and peeled out in my modified sketcher shoes, who’s soles had been replaced with actual tire rubber. I was first out of the blocks, and was on pace to make it to the other side of the puddle before the shower of dingy, oily, grimy, stinky water could ruin my day.

Then, Elder Chris Farley (not his real name) happened. He was rotund, and not especially sound in his sprinting technique. His arms and legs were flailing well outside of his designated lane. His poor technique mixed with a rather narrow sidewalk, wet ground, and 10 other scrambling Elders was a perfect storm for what happened next.

After about 5 or 6 full speed strides, his right leg, and rather large foot reached out and grabbed my entire left leg and stopped my perfect sprinting form in its tracks. I went down. Not only did I go down, but I went down hard, I was in full stride, running like my life depended on it. My leg had been taken out by Chris Farley.  Time slowed down, as I saw what was coming. I reverted back to instinct. All my years of baseball had prepared me for this one moment. I had just enough time to raise my arms and perform a perfectly executed Pete Rose dive and slid along the wet cement as fluidly as if it were a slip-n-slide. It was a thing of beauty…..until the guardrail.

About 7 feet later, I met the guardrail….with my face. My hands were doing their best to keep my face from becoming part of the sidewalk, so I was helpless. All I could do was close my eyes. I hit with the force of a rhino.  Im sure kids in Texas came running for supper after the sound of that dinner bell as my cranium nailed that post. It was epic. I then spent the rest of the afternoon bleeding, and cleaning small bits of gravel out of my hands. My suit was ripped, I tore my shirt to bits. It was awesome. It was the very epitome of a graceful Face plant.

Here is photographic evidence.

FullSizeRender

The second story comes a few years later, while we were living in California during school. My son had just received one of those Razor scooters for christmas, and I was showing him how awesome they were. He was about 4 years old.

I was obviously dressed appropriately for action sports in my shorts, and flip flops. Nothing could go wrong right?  Well, I was due for another wipeout.

This one was also not my fault. As I was showing him how to ride out on the asphalt parking lot, a little pebble, probably put there on purpose by someone who was jealous of my Razor skills, nearly ended my life.  That little pebble, against the small scooter wheel, won. The scooter stopped immediately. I, however did not.

Fortunately, there was my wife to witness what happened next, or no one would believe me. I flew over the handlebars, leaving my flip flops behind, and turned full ninja in midair. I tucked my head and shoulder, curled into a human ball of momentum, hit the ground like a cat ball, rolled forward twice, and popped out of my curl back upright, as if it were planned that way. I looked like an olympic champion after a death-defying floor routine on asphalt.  I brushed the dirt off my shoulders, and looked at my wife, and said, “Yep, that just happened.”

The look in her eye said it all. I was her hero, for a few minutes at least. I had survived a possible subdural hematoma and 8 weeks in the hospital eating through a straw, all because of a pebble the size of pea. Don’t try that at home kids.

So, what do these face plants have to do with anything?

We all face plant in one way or another in our life. No one gets through without one.  We have to know, and expect that we will bite the dust at some point in our lives.  Its part of our learning experience here on earth.

We have to expect that there may be big scary things in our lives that get in the way of where we want to go, and who we want to be. These tend to be somewhat easy to avoid, or at least easy to see coming, They may be drug use, crime, or being unfaithful to a spouse.  These obvious things are like the speeding bus.  Sometimes, though, even as we avoid the speeding bus, we get tripped up. And sometimes, its even because of someone we like and enjoy being around. We cant avoid it all, and we aren’t meant to. The important thing is getting up.

If we can change our attitude to the point of expecting, and being prepared for our falls, we can be a lot more graceful in our face plants.  Sometimes something really small, and seemingly insignificant can take us down, or at least try to. These small things can be like forgetting to pray, or read our scriptures, treating someone unkindly, or forgetting to pay an honest tithe. These can be like the pebble under the wheel. It only takes a small one to trip us up.

But, if we are prepared to fall, and understand that it is part of life to do so, it helps us pop up so much quicker, and more gracefully.  It is still a fall, but it happens to everyone, and we all will fall again and again. We just need to better develop our ability to tuck our head and shoulder, and roll with it, and pop back up as soon as we can..

Many of the Lord’s best Prophets had their versions of a face plant. Aaron and his brethren, in the Book of Mormon, were working very hard, trying to teach the Lamanites the true gospel. They had separated from Ammon at the start of their mission, and had run into some serious pebbles. Ammon had been lucky, and had some success. Aaron and his bros? not so much. They were thrown in jail.  Eventually, Ammon and Lamoni came and rescued them from their trial.  In Alma 20 verse 29 it describes them after their unfortunate face plant like this, “And their skins were worn exceedingly because of being bound with strong cords….Nevertheless they were patient in all their sufferings.”

We can learn a lot from our own mistakes and falls, sometimes its the best way.  Let’s take the bad times along with the good, and learn to be more like Aaron and his brothers, and be patient in all of our sufferings, so that eventually we will become who we are meant to be.

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Be a Man!

29 Monday Jun 2015

Posted by Colby Alexander in Fatherhood, Poems

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Artwork by Joseph F. Brickey, words by Colby Alexander

Have you ever wondered what it would be like to be Jason Bourne? No? Well, I have.  What would it be like to be on one of his against all odds, world saving important missions, and be completely unfazed by eminent danger? To hobble wounded through the streets, and face the constant threat of death at every turn? To fight off rival assassins with a ballpoint pen, and a toaster? I’ve wondered what I would act like if I were in that same scenario. Would I rise to the occasion, keep my whits about me, bear down, and miraculously get the job done?  Or, would I pee my pants, grab my blanky, and hide in the nearest corner and suck my thumb? Would I actually be a man, stand up, and try and fight for what I believed in? Hopefully.

The thing is, Jason Bourne, however awesome, is unfortunately a made up fictional character. He really didn’t beat up the entire French interpol office with a pencil and a rolled up magazine. He didn’t actually escape in an amazing car chase while driving backwards in a mini cooper all through the alleyways and streets of Paris. That didn’t really happen. (Although it was totally awesome)

Does that mean that in real life, something equally as awesome cant’t happen?

Nope.

There are tons of heroic and amazing Jason Bourne type stories that are actually true. As in, they actually happened.  We have plenty of manly men to look to that show us how to be brave, courageous, loving, strong, and honorable in times that seem bleak and hopeless.

Here’s an example….

We all remember the 2000 stripling warriors of Helaman right? Of course we do. They are famous for being true and faithful to what their mothers had taught them. We learn a little bit about them in Alma chapter 53, verses 20 and 21 explain, “And they were all young men, and they were exceedingly valiant for courage, and also for strength and activity; but behold, this was not all—they were men who were true at all times in whatsoever thing they were entrusted. Yea, they were men of truth and soberness, for they had been taught to keep the commandments of God and to walk uprightly before him.” And later in Chapte 56, verses 47 and 48, “Now they never had fought, yet they did not fear death; and they did think more upon the liberty of their fathers than they did upon their lives; yea, they had been taught by their mothers, that if they did not doubt, God would deliver them. And they rehearsed unto me the words of their mothers, saying: We do not doubt our mothers knew it.”

These guys were heroes, and they were the way they were in large part because of their mothers, who had taught them and helped them to become Men. Their mothers get HUGE props for that.

But, have you ever wondered about the fathers of these 2000 warriors? Where were they? They aren’t mentioned in those chapters. If their mothers were completely amazing, did their fathers teach them as well?

I think we may have to go backwards to find out…

The Book of Mormon puts chapter 53 of Alma in about the year 63 or 64 B.C. This is the year that Helaman takes the 2000 boys, and arms them for battle.  They are described as young. Just for fun, lets assume they were about 17 or 18, maybe a bit older.

Now, lets hit the rewind button on our ancient Jason Bourne movie.  Lets rewind to Chapter 24 of Alma. The heading puts this chapter somewhere between 90-77 B.C. That means, we now went back in time anywhere from 13 years prior to about 26 or 27 years.

So, what was happening at that time?  This was the year that the righteous Lamanites buried their weapons and promised and made their famous covenant they would never fight again.  They became the people of Anti-Nephi-Lehi. These fully converted Lamanite men and women, were those who in those next few years, would teach the future stripling warriors.

In Verse 19 it says, “And thus we see that, when these Lamanites were brought to believe and to know the truth, they were firm, and would suffer even unto death rather than commit sin; and thus we see that they buried their weapons of peace, or they buried the weapons of war, for peace.”

These faithful Lamanites would eventually be those who would instill commitment, honor, and faith on those stripling warriors. They taught this in the most meaningful, and permanent way- by example.

At that time, the future stripling warriors  may have been just born, or maybe were quite young. But, their mothers would have been there. And, Im willing to bet, that the ones that were among the most vocal in this covenant with the Lord were those boys fathers.

What an example to their young boys they must have been. They had been converted, fully.  They showed their sons how to act, how to take action to show faith, and be a man, how to be brave, honorable, and ultimately, how to trust in God. Maybe, the only memories these future warriors had of their actual fathers, were those humbling and honorable moments of their ultimate sacrifice.

So what happened to them? The wicked Lamanites happened to them. Alma chapter 24 verses 21 and 22 explain, “Now when the [Anti-Nephi-Lehi’s] saw that [the Lamanites] were coming against them they went out to meet them, and prostrated themselves before them to the earth, and began to call on the name of the Lord; and thus they were in this attitude when the Lamanites began to fall upon them, and began to slay them with the sword. And thus without meeting any resistance, they did slay a thousand and five of them; and we know that they are blessed, for they have gone to dwell with their God.”

Those men, went out to meet their attackers, knowing they would die.  They put honor and commitment first, they led by example, showing perfect faith in their God.  These were the examples set for those young boys who may have physically witnessed this sacrifice.  Is it any wonder they were so strong and faithful themselves? They had either personally watched, or learned about this sacred event from their mothers. That was their heritage.

Today, there aren’t massive Lamanite armies a few miles away from our houses bound and determined to kill us simply because of our beliefs.  We aren’t constantly living with threats to our lives because of merely who we are…..or are we?

Are we, as the men of today,  living our lives with the same amount of commitment to our faith as those men of Anti-Nephi-Lehi?  Increasingly our faith will be challenged. Every facet of our religion will come under scrutiny, and we will either have to stand up and defend it, or cower, and shy away. We show our strength, honor, and commitment by living and showing, not by saying and telling. Do we remain strong, honorable, and faithful in the face of evil and wickedness? Our posterity will learn from us whichever way we choose.

If we want our sons (and daughters) to be like those stripling warriors, then we need to act like their fathers (and mothers) did- and show them how to live, and even die for what we believe.

Elder Marion D Hanks explains the same thing in the April 1974 general conference….

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We all Scream for Ice Cream

22 Monday Jun 2015

Posted by Colby Alexander in Food

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Once upon a time, I was super smart and knew everything. I pretty much ruled the world, which, in fact, revolved around me. I was obviously the most important kid in the universe, and no one could do anything about it.  My kingdom, during this era of enlightenment, was Payson Junior High School.  I was in 8th grade.

My co-rulers and I, who also happened to be equally as smart as I was, made it a daily occasion on our lunch break, to walk the quarter mile off campus to take our lunch at the local Dairy Queen. Now, this Dairy Queen was known throughout all the land as the most delicious, for it served the greasiest fries on the earth and the best pink sauce ever. Anyone familiar with this prize winning establishment can vouch for the authenticity of this statement. An enormous grocery bag of these things could be purchased for a mere 80 cents. But, the prize of the Dairy Queen lunch caravan wasn’t the greasy fries, it was the jumbo ice cream cone. People would travel from all around just to partake of its hugeness.

This ice cream cone only cost around 65 cents, and contained roughly 19 revolutions of ice cream carefully swirled on top of the sugar cone. It was massive. Just for kicks, because we were the collective kings of the jungle, they also placed a plastic monkey toy on top of the Everest cone as homage to our greatness. This tower of sugar, milk and deliciousness kept us coming back day, after day, after day.

You have to imagine in your mind, our group of 14 year old geniuses in those days. There was Myself, Brad, Anthony, Mark, Mo, Josh and others, after purchasing our delectable diabetes cones, would play Street Fighter on the arcade console for the 5 minutes before we had to make our trek back to reality.  The distance from the school would only allow this short time to be enjoyed inside the Dairy Queen, the next 10 minutes or so would be spent trying diligently to consume the entire cone which we had just purchased.  Frequently teetering on the brink of brain freezes, this was no small feat. Oft times we would fail in our attempts, and would sadly, and with much dismay, have to dispose of our remaining cone in the trash can just outside the doors of the school.

One day, Mo, one of the eldest of our company, came up with one of the best consolation prizes ever. In his experienced wisdom, he showed us that it was ok if we didn’t finish our bucket of ice cream upon our return to school.  If we did have a cone left, we could, in our last moments of an enjoyable lunch, throw our remaining frozen treat projectiles “toward” the garbage can.  If the ice cream and cone somehow smacked the brick wall 14 feet above the garbage can, and slowly trickled down, inch by inch, leaving a snails trail of vanilla in its wake, all the better!

Again, we were a group of very smart and brilliant kids.  There is absolutely nothing wrong with 8-10 kids throwing ice cream cones in the general direction of the garbage can everyday after that right?  Pretty soon, in our wisdom, we would actually purposefully eat less ice cream to save most of our cones to make a more dramatic ice cream explosion. Oh man, we had so much fun!…..for about 4 days.

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. Apparently,the custodians at Payson Junior High School didn’t really like scrubbing down the ice cream war zone everyday. On the 5th day of our ice cream disposal system, after the first 3 missiles were fired at the wall, the sweet little custodian lady burst out from her secret hiding place and we were busted.  The worst part about this whole thing is that it wasn’t until I actually saw her, that I even realized that it probably wasn’t a good idea to chuck ice cream at a wall.  Maybe I wasn’t so super smart after all?

Needless to say, myself, Mo, Brad, Anthony, and a few others were blessed with the privilege of spending a week after school washing lockers, and being servants to the sweet little custodian lady who had the last laugh.  And that is where my life of crime began and ended. Sorry again Mrs. Franz.

I spent a week cleaning after school because I didn’t see the big picture.  I couldn’t see past my own cheap entertainment.  My own selfish desires to watch ice cream cones slowly trickle down a brick wall, took precedence over worrying about who would have to clean it up.  I was blinded by my own indifference.  I didn’t see the big picture.

In the Book of Mormon, Jarom, the son of Enos, was explaining the mindset of the Nephites during his time which was only about 60 years after Lehi left Jerusalem.  These Nephites were supposed to be the righteous ones, they had been separated from the Lamanites, and had the scriptures, and the prophets. But, just as always, something got in the way. He says in Jarom 1:3…..

“Behold, it is expedient that much should be done among this people, because of the hardness of their hearts, and the deafness of their ears, and the blindness of their minds, and the stiffness of their necks; nevertheless, God is exceedingly merciful unto them, and has not as yet swept them off from the face of the land.”

It is our natural tendency to become complacent, to see only what we want to see, and to forget about everything that isn’t directly effecting us. We don’t pause to look at the big picture. We tend to separate, and contain God into a small 3 hour window on Sundays, and forget Him the rest of the week. We cant let this happen to us. 


When we see things happening in the world around us what do we think?  Do we brush it off as something that is only happening halfway across the world, or in some other country, or state?  What about our own community? Do we see attitudes and behaviors that remind us of any societies in the Book of Mormon? Do we involve ourselves with any of them? We need to take the time, and open our blinded eyes, soften our hardened hearts, and start to listen with our spiritual ears.  Its part of what we need to learn here in this life. Lets look at our lives through the lens of the Book of Mormon. If our people had a chapter, what would it read like?

Hopefully we can all learn from my ice cream shenanigans that we need to stop and look at ourselves, and how we are living, to see if there are any ice cream cones that we are chucking at the wall. After all, someone is always watching.

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The Gift of Time

20 Saturday Jun 2015

Posted by Colby Alexander in Time

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“To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:”            -Ecclesiastes 3:1

I just got back from a weeks long vacation to California, and the Happiest place on earth.

While I was there I…… spent 3 hours chasing a 2 year old at the beach, saved him from being washed out to sea, got sand in all the uncomfortable crevices in my body, then drove to a hotel in a car full of sandy, wet, little people that smelled just like wet dogs.

Next,  I spent the next 4 days in Disneyland and waited in a lot of long hot lines, chased a 2 year old, stood up on sore feet all day, walked a lot, chased a 2 year old, spent 4 dollars for each churro consumed, took a barely potty-trained 2 year old to the bathroom once an hour, stood in line for food, stood in line to get a fasts ticket so I wouldn’t have to stand in lines for quite so long, chased a 2 year old, baked like a toasted cheeser in the middle of the day, survived the Matterhorn’s teeth jarring concussion causing death ride (seems a lot jerkier than I remember), nearly blew chunks after a roller coaster (I’m apparently too old to ride anymore), chased a 2 year old, wrestled 12 stuffed Sven the reindeer animals out of a 2 year olds death grip, ate so much my stomach is now stretched out and could accommodate a small elephant, chased a 2 year old, waited in some more lines, and…. enjoyed every last minute!

As crazy and as hectic as it was, it was time well spent. Time with my wife, her family and my kids making memories, that I will remember forever.  I’ll remember catching hundreds of ocean crawfish with Brady, Olivia, and Sophia at the beach, and fending off their defensive pincers as we piled them high in our sand buckets. I’ll remember burying Jake up to his neck in the sand. I’ll remember 22 of us on a single Pirate’s of the Caribbean boat nearly scraping the bottom of the ride’s river and causing an indoor Tsunami. I’ll remember my 2 year old’s elated face as he saw and pointed to Mike and Sully in the Monsters Inc ride. Ill remember all my kids slinking back to the hotel room exhausted and collapsing as if they just crossed the Sahara Desert dragging a house behind them. I’ll remember 4 churros being inhaled at lightning speed, Ill remember Jeffy passes being the best thing since sliced bread. Ill remember year old Mickey ears still going strong. I’ll remember the best Salmon I’ve ever eaten at the Bleu Bayou.  I’ll remember all 26 of us fending off heatstroke while waiting in line to get the famous Cinderella castle picture. I’ll remember home made Disneyland countdown chains in our house for weeks. I’ll remember riding the carousel over, and over, and over again, and Jake still wanting to keep going. All of this is priceless.

Time is something that can’t be bought, it cant be saved, or stored for the future. Time itself cannot be hid away or saved, but memories of how that time is spent, can be. Memories and the feelings associated with those memories remain forever, they become part of us.

Memories are what  make us uniquely us. We are nothing but an accumulation of a lifetime of past experiences. These memories influence us in our present lives. And, as we get older, we tend to value this time spent in a much more profound way. How we choose to spend our time, determines the memories we make.

Isn’t it funny that when we are young, we cant wait to be older? We want time to speed up so we can finally go to school, drive, date, go on a mission, go to college, have a job, get an apartment, or buy a car. But, when we are old, this precious gift of time seems to slip so quickly through our fingers.

Time is ultimately the greatest gift we can receive. It we think about it carefully, is it not the one thing  we really want?

Don’t we all just want more time with our kids, our family, our wives or husbands?

Luckily, we know exactly how to make that happen.

When a new family is created in the way the Lord has designed, and in His Temple, the words “for time and all eternity” are used to describe how long this bond can last. That is really beyond what we can honestly comprehend. Eternity is a long time.  Its like forever. No end. Chew on that for just a minute. Eternal means endless time.  Its exactly what we all want. More time.

If we live our lives like our Father wants us to, and follow His directions, we can have all the time together that we can imagine, without any of the distractions of our busy, imperfect world. We can live together as a family and do so without any hurry, deadlines, or limitations. It can be just as we always wanted.

Time is passing us by each day, each hour, and each minute. Lets use it wisely. Lets use it in a way that creates good, lasting memories. Lets use it in a way that is meaningful, and can influence us and our families to be worthy of the greatest gift that we can possibly imagine, the gift of endless time.

Eternal Life.

The Gift of Time

We all, a set amount posses,
if we be rich, or poor,
we cannot hold, or gather up
to save, or try to store.

It creeps along when we are young,
but speeds by when we’re old.
Enables future dreams to fly,
relives in stories told.

The time we spend can fix or mend,
A broken heart’s despair,
It heals the wounds of sad neglect,
and fosters loving care.

This time our Father gives to us,
These moments- are His gift,
To fill with love, and memory sweet,
To strengthen, and uplift.

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Loyalty

18 Thursday Jun 2015

Posted by Colby Alexander in Loyalty, Sports

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When I was a lot younger, maybe about 10 years old, my Grandma and Grandpa moved to Atlanta Georgia. This marked a monumental shift in the biggest thing in my life at that point, my baseball fandom allegiance.

Up until that point, myself and Tyson, were diehard Cubs fans. We were Cubs fans for two reasons. One, my Grandma and Grandpa lived in Chicago (remember, we were kids and this totally counted as a valid reason) and two, all the games were on WGN so we could watch every one.

My favorite player was, of course, Ryne Sandberg, the best 2nd baseman of all time. Tyson’s favorite player was their right fielder, “The Hawk” Andre Dawson. The man with a rocket launcher for a right arm.

We loved the Cubs. But they were horrible. Really bad.

Around 1988, when my grandparents moved to Atlanta, the unthinkable happened. Our allegiance to the Cubs faltered, fizzled, and apostasized completely. The Cubs had been replaced.

The new beneficiary of our loyalties was the Atlanta Braves. We jumped onto the only other team that was on tv all the time, and so we could still watch every game. The Braves won 54 games that year, and lost 106. It wasn’t exactly easy to be a fan of a such a loser team, but we did it.

Our heroes changed, we now loved Dale Murphy, Ozzie Virgil, Ken Oberkfell, “the penguin” Glen Hubbard (who, when running actually did appear as if he were a penguin, or a hobbit of some sort).

But, the Braves were also horrible. They were a terrible team, but we didn’t care. We cheered for them. We lived as proud Braves fans through all the years of terribleness, until they came around. Our time invested, sweat, tears, and suffering paid off. In 1995, the Braves won the World Series largely because of our unflinching loyalty to the team. You’re welcome Bobbie Cox.

To this day, all Alexanders are still Braves fans. We again suffer as the doldrums have returned, but our loyalty has not dimmed, nor wavered. We haven’t jumped ship with the changing tides to cheer for the popular teams like the Red Sox or Yankees. That would be blasphemous.

Fandom is the perfect way to learn about loyalty. Loyalty is the extreme commitment to something or someone. It cannot be shallow or fickle. Let’s go over some definitions to further this point:

Fair weather fan = only a fan if the team one claims is performing well, if they are terrible, this person will not wear a t shirt, fly a flag, or claim any knowledge or allegiance to their supposed team. But, the minute they are doing well, they come out of the woodwork claiming years of previous allegiance.

Bandwagon fan = this person has about 17 different teams’ t shirts and hats. This person never struggles with a bad team, they just jump to any popular team at the time. This type of fan currently accounts for approximately 86% of all Seattle Seahawks fans. Don’t pretend that this isn’t true.

Die hard fan = will still cheer for their team no matter what, even if they are the worst team in the history of the world. This fan is completely and thoroughly committed.

So what does all of this have to do with anything?

It has everything to do with loyalty.

We can all find examples of loyalty throughout history, let’s look at just one very famous example. Peter.

Peter was the great Apostle, the heir apparent to be the prophet after Christ was gone. This same Peter was the only apostle to actually walk on water towards Jesus in the stormy seas. The same Peter who would draw his sword and slice off an ear of one of the soldiers who would come to arrest Jesus. Not a fair weather fan.

Sounds more like a committed, fiercely loyal, diehard fan.

However, remember this exchange between Peter and Christ on the night of Jesus’ arrest?

Mathew 26

31 ¶And the Lord said, Simon, Simon, behold, Satan hath desired to have you, that he may sift you as wheat:

32 But I have prayed for thee, that thy faith fail not: and when thou art converted (let’s think of converted as “committed” in this context) strengthen thy brethren.

33 And he said unto him, Lord, I am ready to go with thee, both into prison, and to death.

34 And he said, I tell thee, Peter, the cock shall not crow this day, before that thou shalt thrice deny that thou knowest me.

Ouch. That must have stung a bit knowing Peter.

But let’s see how this story unfolds.

We know that Peter was with Jesus as the angry crowd of soldiers and Priests came to arrest him. That moment was the end of life as the disciples knew it. There was no more safe passage on the bandwagon. Jesus held out his hand and gave his followers time and opportunity to escape, and what happened next?

Mathew 26:56 “Then all the disciples forsook him, and fled.”

This is where loyalty enters in.

The team that these disciples had been cheering for wholeheartedly for the last 3 years just lost,  badly. And worse, he seemed to just give up! And soon would probably not even be able to even field a team. So everyone bailed. They all ran away. Just when things got really bad, they quit.

But some, or one, stayed close enough.

Guess who?

Mathew 26:58 But Peter followed him afar off unto the high priest’s palace, and went in, and sat with the servants, to see the end.

This is where everyone gets to read about Peter’s not so greatest moment. Where he has his trial of faith, where he suddenly has a temporary moment of fair weather fandom.

I picture Peter trying to be as inconspicuous as he can, sneaking as close to where the high priests have taken Jesus into their illegal court, I picture him not saying a word, trying to be invisible, just trying to be as close to Jesus as he can.

But, someone calls him out. 3 someone’s in fact, they saw him cheering for the Savior during the previous games and called him on the carpet.

In his haste to squash his cover being blown, he does the “natural” thing to do, he denies it. 3 times. Then the cock crows, and he snaps back into reality and it’s more than he can take.

Mathew 26:75 And Peter remembered the word of Jesus, which said unto him, Before the cock crow, thou shalt deny me thrice. And he went out, and wept bitterly.

Peter gets a bad rep for all of this, but let’s remember one thing. How many disciples dared sneak into Jerusalem that night to be close to their savior?

One did.

Who dared take on a whole mob of soldiers to fight for his friend?

One did.

Peter wept bitterly because he realized he had somewhat inadvertently denied knowing his Savior. To him, loyalty was paramount, and because of his weakness, he failed. And he knew it.

But after all of this, what happened to Peter? His true loyalty came through, and he then lead the church through a massive missionary effort, and continued teaching, healing, and performing much of the same miracles that the Lord himself performed. His true loyalty was with the Savior and his actions proved it.

So what can we learn from Peter?

We learn that the trial of our faith comes as we try to get closer to the Savior. Peter’s came in a very literal way. Ours may come as we try to improve our lives to become more like Christ. We will meet people who may want us to feel uncomfortable while we seek out the Savior.  And they may call us out and mock us. But, we have to be loyal to Him. We cannot deny that we know Him. If we stay loyal, we take that final step in truly becoming His, and then He will bless us with added strength and power just as He did with Peter.

Loyalty is more than just words. It’s actions. We need to display our loyalties by the way we live. We need to live our lives in a way that when other people watch us, they know exactly to whom our allegiance lies. Whether it’s in our commitment to our wives or husbands, our kids, our church, or our God. Our actions must mirror our words.

Otherwise, we become fair weather fans, and nobody likes those.

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Comfortable Complacency

07 Sunday Jun 2015

Posted by Colby Alexander in Pride

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Have you ever wondered what it might have been like to be a fly on the wall and hear Abinidi testify in front of King Noah and his court and verbally rub his nose in his own wickedness? or listen to one of Noah’s sermons predicting a rather large rainstorm?  Or listen to Samuel the Lamanite testify while dozens of angry listeners slotted arrows trying to kill him?

How on earth could any of those wicked heathens deny what the prophets were saying? If we were there, we would have totally defended them all day long, even unto death right?

Uhh…?

Here’s the thing, We have no idea what that world was even like. We have no idea, really, what its like to fear for your life because of what we believe or say. That world is a brutal, evil, vicious, unforgiving world.

Surely, in our enlightened, educated world today we have moved past, and now progressed away from such barbarism. Certainly, we, today, are a much more civil, organized, intelligent, tolerant, and understanding world. Without any doubt, we have moved past such killing based on mere beliefs today, right?

Uhh…..no.

Just ask the Christians in Syria right now.

Time to check ourselves.

We do know exactly what its like to hear Abinidi, Noah, Samuel, Alma, Nephi, Moroni, Peter, John, and all the others.

We hear them all the time. At least every six months.  Their names are Thomas, Deiter, Henry, Boyd, L. Tom, Russell, Dallin, M. Russell, Richard, Robert, Jeffrey, David, Quentin, D. Todd, and Neil. They speak all the time, But do we listen? Do we hear them in the same context as the other great prophets? Probably not. But, thats our problem, not theirs.

Today, I can drive to work, and no one tries to kill me. I can go to the store, and buy food, and no one tries to steal it, beat the crap out of me, and leave me for dead on the side of the road on the way home. I can leave my family when I go to work, and I can have confidence that they will be there, alive, when I get back.

I am comfortable.

But, am I complacent?

Do I need a dose of reality?

In 1973, Ezra Taft Benson gave a talk, that is as close to anything I have heard to those face melting verbal beatdowns of Abinidi, and Samuel.  It delivers a healthy dose of reality to a wicked world. It is sobering. I listened, and all I could think of was that this is our modern day Alma in Ammonihah. No one is openly threatening to kill him, but the audience is the same. A world that is completely apathetic to moral standards.

Sound familiar?

And because the world isn’t exactly more morally clean today than it was 42 years ago when he delivered it, we can only assume that this message is now tame compared to what it might have been today. Remember, he delivered this bad boy in 1973.

Want to hear some cool facts about how 1973 was a hot mess?

  • In 1973 the Supreme Court ruled on Roe vs. Wade, making abortion legal in the U.S.
  • In 1973 The Vietnam war was just ending for American ground troops in a cease fire, after years of questionable leadership and purpose.
  • In 1973 Richard Nixon, the President of the United States, was mired in an ongoing watergate scandal investigation and uttered the famous quote, “I am not a crook”.  Sure.
  • In 1973 Egyptians and Syrians attacked Israel to start the largest Arab-Israeli conflict to date on the holiest Jewish day on their calendar. Yom Kippur.

Not exactly sunshine and lollipops.

Ezra Taft, in his talk, then proceeds to school us with a little history lesson, comparing us to the Nephites who fell because of wickedness, then to the Romans, who fell because of wickedness, and then warns us again, not to be wicked. Then, in the end, tells us how not to be wicked.

It basically comes down to that simple promise made about 2400 years ago, “If ye keep my commandments, ye shall prosper in the land.”

The ancient people in America seemed to go back and forth between righteousness, and wickedness, in about 200 year intervals. They would be righteous for a while, then they would get sidetracked, turn wicked, then get totally crushed, and destroyed, then try again.

Think of 4th Nephi, in the year 201 after Christ, they started to be divided again, after 200 years of pure awesomeness. The Romans enjoyed 200 years of powerful reign, but took a nosedive in their 3rd century.

We, are currently in the 228th year of our country. It was founded on moral, christian, principles.  The founding fathers constantly spoke of adherence to God’s laws, it was everywhere, the monuments, their writings, even the money!

So, the questions really is, are we as a country, and a people still keeping the commandments?

And now another question, are we really prospering in the land?

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The Man and the Tree

04 Thursday Jun 2015

Posted by Colby Alexander in Fatherhood, Poems

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The Man

There are two ways to look at a marriage of a son or daughter from a parent’s perspective.

One, you will be giving up a son or daughter as they start a new phase in their life. This new phase suddenly changes the way this son or daughter needs you as a parent, or at least to the extent that they have up until that point. So, you feel as if you are losing a family member.

Or, two, you will be gaining a son, or a daughter, and your family now will be expanding, getting larger, more diverse, and getting bigger and better! Instead of the feeling of losing someone, you embrace the feeling of gaining someone else who loves your son or daughter just as much as you do.

Isn’t it funny that the two choices we as parents have with regard to this life changing event, are polar opposites? They couldn’t be more different, or have a bigger effect on the way the family dynamic changes when this marriage actually occurs.

My Father-in-law is a perfect example of how to pull off the second option. From the first time I met him, he has always welcomed me, shown me, and told me that he cares about me. I completely understand how difficult this would be for a lot of fathers. I appreciate that immensely. He has made me feel just like one of his own sons, and for that I give him huge props.

He is retiring now, after 42 years of working for the same company. Even though it took a lot of sacrifice on his part, through ups and downs he always wanted his family to stay rooted where they were.

He has created traditions that have continued through the years, and have expanded through all of his kids, and now into his grandkids lives. An annual Disneyland trip with the whole family is now on year 29. His home, to this day, fills with his kids and grandkids that want to come and be close to home.

That is the strength of this man. He’s quiet about it, but he is a leader. People follow him. Whether they know him from work, or from growing up with him, or from the community. Once you meet him, you love him, and want to be around him. He is a humble man, but great in the things that really matter.

I thank him for always making me feel welcome, and loved.

The Tree

On high secluded mountain side,
a mighty, stalwart tree resides.
Around him gather smaller shoots,
that long for his much stronger roots,

Entrenched so deeply in the ground.
Through winter storm and thunder’s sound,
he shelters those small trees below,
from heavy rains and falling snow.

And then, through wide expansive reach,
Those younger trees below, he’ll teach,
by showing them the way to be,
a strong, mature, and hearty tree.

He shaded me with outstretched limbs,
gave me the time to learn from him,
He showed me what it meant to be,
A wise, and caring Father tree.

A man, in truth, this stalwart tree,
not made of limbs, or roots, or leaves –
His steadfast strength, provides the shade-
protects the home his hands have made

And all who meet, and come to know,
His heart would follow where he goes,
A secret leader no one sees,
A living pillar – like the tree.

He honors pure integrity,
loves truth, hard work, and honesty,
Provides with generosity
for all within his family.

And now, surrounded by the ones,
who love him most, He’ll get his fun!
And with the trees that he helped raise,
Be free at last to spend his days.

 Happy Retirement Curtis!

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My Little Brother

02 Tuesday Jun 2015

Posted by Colby Alexander in Brothers, Faith, Poems

≈ 1 Comment

This photo captures the dynamic of our Brotherhood exactly
 Recently, I was asked to speak on the parable of the sower. So, after consulting my three brothers, proceeded to write the first 7 versions of this talk over the next few weeks. It was pretty awesome, if you like boring regurgitations of 2000 year old parables.

I tried a few versions on my wife for a test run, and although she was quite supportive, said, “Why don’t you just tell a story and make it relevant?” In 6 seconds, she rendered my several hours of study, preparation, writing and thought that I had done so far virtually useless. Of course, she was absolutely right, like always, and knowing that people tend to fall asleep everyday after hearing me talk for even just a few minutes (its kind of my job) it seemed like a much better option.

So, rather than run the risk of putting everyone into a coma in sacrament meeting, I had to go another route. It was just then that I realized that the true message of the parable had played out very distinctly in the life of someone close to me. After reading the parable over and over and thinking of what message would be really relevant to us today it was quite clear that I had to tell one of the best stories that I have ever heard. Its a story of my little brother. 

The basics of the parable are this: A sowers seeds land in three different types of ground or soil. The seeds represent the gospel, or the words of God. The soil types represent the receptivity of our hearts to the gospel. The three types of ground are stony, thorny, or finally fertile receptive soil.

The story Ill try to tell is how this soil can change, it changes over time, with effort, desire, a plow, and poop. because this is our blog, and not sacrament meeting, I will use the word poop, and not manure, although manure is probably more accurate. But the idea is that we are not cursed to keep the soil of our hearts permanently, we can change.

My brothers and I grew up beating each other up, fighting, competing, fighting, beating each other up, teasing each other, fighting, and then teasing each other. We were relentless.  Im the oldest brother, but I’m also the best looking, strongest, and smartest, but so were the other three.

There was always a lot of pressure to beat the other guy, or one up the other guy, or not let the other guy show you up. It wasn’t just in sports, but spilled over into all other aspects of life. The oldest three brothers eventually graduated high school, and went on missions, just like we had learned were supposed to do, the youngest, though, was always a little different. Being the youngest, and a little different than us, he, unfortunately, took the brunt of the teasing, razzing, and ridicule from the older brothers. We were horrible. I was horrible. I was an idiot, a jerk, and everything I wasn’t supposed to be as a big brother. In the context of the parable, I did nothing but sit there and throw rocks into my little brother’s soil. Im sure he just wanted to fit in, be a part of us, be like us, and all the things little brothers want to be. But, I didn’t help out. In fact, I did just the opposite.

Im sure that he felt tremendous pressure to graduate and do just like we did, and go on a mission, Im sure he felt that way from everyone around him, whether real or imagined. Whether purposefully or not. It was just the way it was. But, the fact is, he hadn’t developed a testimony of his own yet, and was honest enough with himself to realize it. He went into the MTC and came home after a couple weeks. I cant even imagine the way he must have felt. Even though he was an amazing kid, he felt alone. His soil was stony.  Mostly because of the rocks that yours truly had sent his way.

But, all of the stupid stuff I did, to make him feel the way he did, makes his story all the more amazing.

Fast forward several years, its 2011, and he’s now married, and has three amazing little girls. but his heart was still stony. He’s going to church, he doing the right things, he’s an amazing father, but his heart was still in the stony phase.

This is where it gets fun. As I hope you can see in the picture above, my little brother is the happy, goofy, life of the party, story-telling-est guy you will ever meet, so I will use the words he used to describe what happened next.

He said that he was tired of pretending, tired of going to church just because, and that if he was going to put in the effort, he needed to know for himself, really, that it was worth it. If it was true. And if so, he had to give it his all, not just show up.

He tells the story of him praying like he had never done before, he prayed with as much effort and heart as he could muster and said that he told God that he had an ultimatum for him, that He had one shot. One. One chance to give him and answer, and that it was going to be tonight. My little brother proceeded to tell our Father in Heaven what was going to happen. He made his demands. For his part,  he would go to the general priesthood session, alone, take notes, pay attention, give it his 100% effort. In turn, he demanded that Heavenly Father tell him, without a doubt, no room for error or question that is was true. He needed to be hit across the head with an answer though, no room for doubt. He said that because he had never really felt the spirit before, that it had to be obvious. (he has since said, that knowing what he does now of Heavenly Father, he would never talk to him like that)

So, he went to the priesthood session, and the first speaker? Elder Holland. Yep. the talk? “We are all Enlisted” Yep. If there were ever a talk designed to smack you across the face this was it. He said that the Spirit didn’t whisper anything to his heart, It yelled at him like a spitting red faced drill sergeant, then put him in a headlock, and then body slammed him.

He said he had learned that night the true meaning of “Ask and ye shall receive”.

So his heart was changed right? he lived happily ever after? not quite. He had just begun.

Stony ground is not made fertile overnight.

This is where the poop comes into the story. Lots and lots of poop. Knee deep poop, the really stinky kind.

In the context of the parable, we need to realize that the crap we wade through in our lives is not actual crap, but nutritious fertilizer that is changing our stony hardened ground, into the fertile receptive soil that the sower can use to grow his seeds. Sometimes the more manure, the better the plant that grows.

My little brother was just getting started. He now had 4 beautiful little girls who adore him. The last two had some health difficulties when they were just babies. Both little girls had mystery undiagnosable medical issues. The youngest little girl especially, Lexi. She would stop breathing for no apparent reason, and turn blue. She also had difficulty eating, she couldn’t hold food down, and she would aspirate and cough whenever she tried. She eventually needed a feeding tube to be placed so that she could get some sort of nutrition.

Because of her breathing problems, My brother and his wife would take turns staying up all night watching her every breath,watching her little chest rise and fall, just waiting for her to stop breathing. It was exhausting.

The doctors and nurses had no answers. They didn’t know what to tell them. The only thing they could come up with was to teach them CPR, can you imagine? “Sorry sir, we have no idea whats wrong with your daughter, but when she stops breathing and is dying, this is what you can do….But this ended up being a skill that they had to use multiple times after she would stop breathing.

One early morning my brother was on Lexi duty, and decided to take her out into the living room so his wife could sleep. He says that a lot of things were going through his mind at that point, and he was pleading with our Heavenly Father for help.  He then said he had his moment. His moment of complete clarity. His moment when he was able to see things as he was meant to see them. He said his mind opened up and he was able to perceive what the plan was for him and his family. He said in that moment of clarity, he saw that he had done everything to help Lexi, but the most important. He was to use the priesthood of God and to give her a blessing, not just any blessing, but a blessing to heal her. Now, this really shocked him, as she had received many blessings up to this point, from great men, but still had her medical problems. But, the feeling came again to him, that right there, right then, He, Lexi’s  father, needed to give her a blessing and heal her. So, he knelt down, put his hands on that little 3 month old girl’s head, and started to speak. When he described that blessing, he said his lips were moving, but the words weren’t his, his thoughts weren’t his, he just sat there in awe as a power came over him, and through him, and the words that did come out of his mouth commanded that little girl to be completely healed.

It took faith, but they pulled the tube out of her nose, cancelled all other doctor’s appointments, and Lexi has never had another problem again.

She is now a happy, healthy little 2 year old girl and you would never know that she had come so close to dying on so many occasions.

Since that night, and other experiences since, my brother, my little brother, has changed the soil in his heart completely. He is a real follower of Christ. The seeds the Savior sowed have now taken root, and through him, a lot of people in his family, and all around him, including me, the big brother, have benefitted immensely from his testimony. I look up to him, and love him. I see him a lot differently than I used to. I can see, in retrospect, that the Lord was preparing him all along to to great things, and, when the time was right, and when he turned his heart to the Lord, it changed.

Our stony soil does not turn into prepared, fertile soil overnight, it needs to be chopped up, churned, tilled, and sometimes, a lot of crap has to be heaped on it. If we do all this, we will be prepared for the Sower, our Savior.

Through all of this, I have learned from my little brother how to better follow, and love, my Big Brother.

Four Brothers’ Prayer

On bended knee, we turn to Thee,
and offer up our soil,
For His good seed, we’ll nourish, feed,
And labor, sweat and toil,

And from His living water’s well,
and light from Thine own Son,
Our plant gains root, and grows, and swells
Towards Him- the chosen One.

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