Monday, August 24, 2020

Celebrating 10 years of life with ALS

On August 24th 2010, at about this time of day, I was sitting in an exam room, receiving the biggest shock I've yet experienced. A doctor, who I'd just met that day, had just told me the most likely explanation for symptoms I'd been having for a year, and for the abnormalities he and a colleague had just witnessed in my exam, was ALS, a rare terminal illness. If this were the case, my life would likely end in 2-5 years. Dr. Smith shared more thoughts, none of which I recall, and stepped out to give me some time alone. Dazed and assuming the appointment was over, I left the clinic with my head swimming. Dr. Smith, upon finding his exam room empty, quickly reached me by phone to invite me to return the next day with Amy. And so, a new phase of life began. 

 

Those who know me well, know I'm terrible (competitively bad) at remembering birthdays, anniversaries, or holidays. My saintly Mother says it's because I "live in the moment". For whatever reason, dates creep up and surprise me. That's not the case with today's date. I've been mourning the unlikelihood, and then being determined, and then trying not to get my hopes up, and then counting down years, months, weeks, and days, that I'd be with you to see today's date… for TEN YEARS. WAAAHHHHOOOOOO!!!!!!!! I'm overwhelmed. Humbled. Grateful. Grateful. GRATEFUL to be here with you. I thank God for the gifts of these ten years! Today I'm grateful not just to be alive, but for the WHOLE package… All of it… Including the hard stuff.

 

Amy and I talked about how to celebrate this milestone. The pandemic spoiled my plan to rent Aruba and fly us all there. Argh!!! So, to celebrate today, before anything else, I want to thank the people who've enabled me to be here and to be happy to be here!

 

First, to my little family: We choose our spouses based on SO little information. I had only a hint of who Amy really is before we were married… only a glimpse of her character and gifts. I could not know, without experiencing these past ten years, what I'm starting to know about her capacity and willingness to sacrifice for me, our kids, and for everyone we know. I'm humbled (and a little confused) that she continues to forgive and choose me. She is beauty personified. From her came four impossibly unique children who've followed their mother's example and spent these ten years nobly, with humor, and with maturity that shocks me. They've taken the full weight of ALS, including the limitations of my increasing disability, and multiple near death experiences, in stride--all while growing up themselves. I could not know them like I do without these ten years. They have unlimited potential. Amy, kids, thank you. 

 

Next, to our extended family: No one suffers or sacrifices more for us than you. Sometimes you suffer more on our behalf than we do ourselves! We don't know what to do about this :-). Thank you.

 

Last, to my EXTENDED family… All ya'all: Your faces flip through my mind. Living with a terminal condition makes us hungry for a clearer picture of who we are, what we want out of life, and what to expect afterwards. For these ten years (for some of you, 45 years) I've used you as my laboratory to test theories, find answers, and to seek further light. You've taught me so much without even knowing it. I've listened to what you say and watched how you live. One of the greatest lessons I learned from you is that hardship is everywhere. Everyone suffers… Some of you FAR greater than I have. You've also proven, through your kindness and compassion, that we have the power to look beyond our own hardship, and to relieve others' suffering. Thank you.

 

Looking back, we see these ten years as our best yet. We've had experiences that would not have happened without that day in the exam room. We see a greater design in these experiences. In the words of my Danish ancestor, speaking of the Divine assistance they saw in the fort they'd just finished, "We builded better than we knew."

 

Please block your calendars for August 24-31, 2030. Aruba wasn't refundable, and isn't available until then.

 

More to come!

 

Love! 

Seth


   August 25th 2010


July 2020

Tuesday, June 23, 2020

Missions (Part I)

Prologue / Disclaimer 

I've never felt comfortable writing history, personal or otherwise. Even my personal journals are filled more with my thoughts than my experiences. Part of this is due to my discomfort drawing attention to myself.  I feel egocentric stating how anything came to be or happened when, undoubtedly, those who experienced these events along with me had their own perspective. I also feel somehow dishonest because I know it's impossible to capture events accurately. No matter how detailed and thorough I am, words are unable to convey the context and full depth, breadth, and texture of what I actually experience. Lastly, I'm biased by my personal preference to read people's thoughts rather than their experiences (since they're limited in the same ways I've mentioned above!)

All this said, I have a overwhelming desire for my kids to know themselves, to feel connected to the lives and experiences that went into theirs, and to be liberated and empowered in the process. Part of this is knowing the stories that have shaped me. I write these type of posts for them. Here goes!

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Missions (Post I) 

Last August our son, Sam, began his service as a missionary for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. He was assigned to central Mexico, and, after six weeks of training in Spanish and how to teach the gospel, served there for nearly seven months before the Church brought all non-native missionaries home from Mexico (and, most other countries) due to the Covid19 pandemic. He's been home for three months, has been reassigned to serve in Orlando Florida, and departs in six days. I'm thrilled for him to return to missionary service and also for him to have this variety of experiences. Sam's impending departure has me thinking a lot about religion and mission experiences.

I'm a life-long member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I was born into it. So was my dad. In fact, some of my people on my dad's side joined the Church a far back as the 1830's. These folks experienced social and governmental persecution in Illinois and Missouri, including the murder of Joseph Smith, before walking West to the Rocky Mountains pushing handcarts. More of my people on my dad's side met early Church missionaries in Denmark, Norway, and Sweden, joined the Church in the 1850's, and either became missionaries themselves or emigrated to Utah. My people on my mom's side are mainly Swedish, Irish, and German who immigrated to the US for reasons other than religion, and settled in the Midwest.
My family tree. 
My mom was raised devoutly Catholic, but began a search for spiritual answers during her early 20's. After befriending Church members, she sought out Church missionaries to learn more, felt she'd found her answers, and joined the Church. She met my dad a few years later, they married, and, within ten years, added six kids to their family including me, the third lucky one.

Being raised as an "active" (practicing) member meant my upbringing was inseparable from the Church's belief in missionary service. For me and my siblings 'practicing' included daily scripture reading at the family breakfast table (my mom read to us no matter how responsive we were), at least one weekly activity with the Church's youth groups, frequent activities including camping and summer camp with my congregation's Boy Scout Troop (I'm an Eagle Scout), an hour of released time during my high school classes to attend youth seminary, and three hours of worship services each Sunday.

My dad served a mission a few years before he met my mom. He'd been assigned to serve the Spanish speaking people of Texas, Arizona, and New Mexico. Growing up, his service came up every I heard him speak Spanish. We'd be out running errands, be on vacation, or at his dental office. We'd meet a person who spoke English with a Spanish accent, or who didn't speak English at all. My dad was usually fairly quick to ask them a question in Spanish. The people's reaction always made me proud... They'd turn with surprise, and respond in rapid-fire Spanish. I knew from the interchange, warmth, and speed of the conversations that followed that my dad speaks excellent Spanish. These experiences always made us curious about his mission.  We'd ask, and he'd share stories from his mission years with us, including stories about breaking a horse and doing an engine swap in a Ford Model T. These stories became lore in our family and stoked my and my brothers desires to serve missions. When it came time, my brothers and I overlapped our missionary service in Ireland, Brazil, Arkansas, upstate New York, and Jamaica.

I remember first making my decision to serve a mission in a Sunday School class when I was 9 or 10 years old. The teacher explained that " you only have to make the decision to serve a mission one time", and asked who planned to serve a mission. That statement struck a chord with me, and I raised my hand. Although I'd pray for confirmation of my decision after that, I never had  to make the decision again. As I approached my 19th birthday, my congregation's leadership helped me complete the extensive application process which included interviews with my Bishop to make clear and confirm I believed the tenets of the Church and was committed to and living Church standards of conduct. It also included doctors and dental checkups to confirm physical health. Once my application was submitted, it took about two weeks to receive my assignment, or "mission call". Because the Church sends its missionaries all over the world, the anticipation of waiting for my call was real. The first sincere prayer I recall offering in association with of my missionary experience was one I offered that I'd be at peace with wherever in the world I was assigned. I can easily go back in my mind and re-experience the minutes when, standing in my parents' kitchen, I opened the call letter in front of family, friends, and neighbors . I can easily recall the emotion and a profound sense of peace and confirmation as I read aloud my assignment to serve in the Church's Arkansas, Little Rock Mission.

About two months after I opened my call, I entered the Missionary Training Center, or MTC, in Provo Utah.  My drove me to Provo that day. We made two stops: one to get my favorite meal--gas station corn dogs, and another at the park across the street from the MTC for my dad to give me a priesthood blessing. Before placing his hands on my head, I remember my dad asking me if there was anything I wanted him to include in that blessing. I don't recall entirely why, but likely because of my personal awareness (and temptation to pride myself) that people perceived me as a spiritual person, I remember that I asked my dad to bless me with humility. He gave me a beautiful blessing. We then went to the MTC, parked, checked in, and were ushered into a large meeting hall. After a brief speech from the MTC's President, none of which I remember, we said tearful goodbyes. Missionaries walked out one set of doors. Families walked out where they'd entered.

To Be Continued

Monday, June 8, 2020

Book review: Jude the Obscure

I just finished one of the least enjoyable books (audio book) I've ever completed. Jude the Obscure, by Thomas Hardy, was published as a serial series in magazines in the US and Europe in the late 1800's. It's the story of Jude Fawley, a young man of noble character but of poor birth, who has his hopes, faith, dreams, ideals, occupation, health, children, true love, and eventually his life, wrung from him. I hung on to the end of the book, waiting for resolution, but none came.

This book irks me. It makes me ask myself: What facet of human character places value on stories like this? Are we so basic that we're entertained by others unrequited suffering? Are we so hopeless that we find comfort in reading the story of others hopes failing? Do we somehow value them because we can't relate? Do we find it cathartic to allow these characters to suffer as our proxies? Do we need satyr or some thing to stir us from comfort? I am not comforted, nor can I relate or find it catharsis. Instead I'm... Frustrated... a bit worked up ... and even angry?!?

I've heard it before: "Great art stirs our emotions".  Ok. Great. Why would we lump together that which expands our minds and edifies us with that which discourages us and causes us to doubt that which is bigger than our limited view? Is there a place for suffering in art, including literature? YES! The greatest books on earth are those which address it head-on AND show us the way through. Hardy offers no such guidance. In fact, he chooses to extinguish the light of hope by using the words of pre-deliverance Job as Jude's last: "... Wherefore is light given to him that is in misery, and life unto the bitter in soul." (Job 3:20).

I'm encouraged to read most of the Audible review, that the book, "... incited such outrage that Hardy never wrote another novel. Jude the Obscure remains one of the most righteously angry and deeply radical works of the nineteenth century." I agree with the review but find no righteousness or even anger of this book. If he's referring to my anger, he may be onto something :-).

I choose hope. I choose faith. I believe light is coming. Have I suffered? Maybe not. Still, I can't recommend this book.

Sunday, June 7, 2020

Posting again ... Thoughts on the writing process

6/7/2020

Hello?... Anyone home? Is this thing on??

After a 5+ year hiatus, I've felt prompted to be more open in sharing my views and experiences. I hope you find them worth reading.

Writing is difficult for me. It's the form of communication that allows and requires me to think the most. As I write, I have the luxury and burden of testing ideas on the page, and seeing whether I actually believe them or not. Whether by nature or nurture, I recognize I'm a little cynical, OCD, and vain. These character traits combine to make me believe very few of my initial thoughts, fuss over details, and worry about what you readers will think of me. I could try and blame the labor of writing on the fact that ten years of ALS has left me disabled and that I type using a retina-tracking computer, but that wouldn't be honest. Writing's ALWAYS been hard work for me. If anything, ALS has sped up my writing by giving me a sense of urgency, and making me slightly less willing to tolerate my own vanity.

This took me about an hour and a half to write:-)

6/9/2020 addition
Kym, you made me aware I'd written only about the difficulty of writing. I failed to express my love of this difficult process.

Writing, for the reasons written above, is very demanding for me. For these exact reasons, it's also sacred to me. It's how I discover truth.

Writing is the best tool I've found so far to force myself to think through, test, and refine / distill my perceptions into beliefs. It's not unusual for me to labor over a poem, essay, or talk / sermon for weeks (much longer in a couple examples), adding thoughts as they come, deleting or rewriting previously written sentences or reorganizing and reordering paragraphs, until the piece feels complete. It's these pieces that I can come back to and wonder at how the end product is so much bigger than I am. For these reasons, much of what I write, I write only for myself, and, secondarily,  for my kids to read if they wish to know me. I've felt prompted to be less insular though, so am reentering the blogessphere. I'm not sure if I'll get to the point where I'm comfortable enough to open social media accounts (see note above regarding my own vanity).

I've also had a handful of experiences in which the words have poured into my mind and out onto the page, already near completion, as rapidly as i could write them. I'd call this revelation, but hesitate because it's as likely to happen while writing work emails, or silly poems, as it is when ever writing sermons.  Maybe I need to expand my personal perceptions about what's revealed and what's not!


Wednesday, February 25, 2015

My own "Theory of Everything"

I’ve been firmly on the fence about whether or not to see The Theory of Everything (the movie on the life of Stephen Hawking)…worried that this film might strike a little too close to home…worried that it might not strike close enough to home, etc. until today when Amy and I had lunch with three other ALS diagnoses, and I was reminded that, though we share a diagnosis, we are all having our own completely unique experience. I realized that I have nothing to fear from anyone else's story--no one’s story is MY story. So, I came home excited to see this show, rented the movie online, and watched it all by myself. I liked this movie. It did better than most at showing the complexity of a trial. It also touched on many of the topics I find myself thinking about every day: God, time, and family. I've decided to share my own "theory of everything" in the form of excerpts from a few recent email discussions I've had with close friends:

Context: after reading a verse found in Isaiah 53:10 (and repeated in the Book of Mormon), I sent out a group text to a number of friends asking whether any of them understood what "he shall prolong his days" means. A number of my friends responded, prompting me to write the following to one of them:

"I asked my original question not because I'm studying the prolonging of days, but because I want to truly understand repentance… Including understanding everything I can about what this verse seems to be talking about-- what the Savior experiences during our moment of repentance. Here is an old journal entry that summarizes my desire well:
' I've continued to ponder this theme of a changed heart, and have asked myself whether I have had this experience yet. I've read in the scriptures of the 'mighty change of heart' after which one has no more desire to commit sin or to even look upon sin without abhorrance. I think of Enos' experience in the woods, the mighty change of the Anti-Nephi-Lehi's, the sanctification of those in Alma 13 after which they 'entered into the rest of the Lord', the conversions of Alma the Younger, the sons of Mosiah, Zeezrom, Saul of Tarsus, and the people of Melchezidek, I think of the words of the Savior to Peter--"when though art converted....", wondering if I have yet been converted? I desire to receive, like Saul, "another heart" and to be forever freed from my 'natural' desires. I desire to be sanctified and enter into the rest of the Lord, dedicating myself without distraction to hiswork. I have felt and acted on the desire to repent many times and have felt the freedom of foregiveness, but wonder whether their isn't a greater and more enduring cleansing awaiting me if I fully embrace the Lord's plan. I give thanks for the perfect pland pray for this sanctification for me and my 'family'.'
Time, to me, is not uniform. Sometimes minutes, hours, or days go by in a flash. At other times we live seconds so intensely that they seem longer than days. In this way, our days can be "prolonged" in intensity or awareness or sensitivity. Whether this is what Isaiah means not, I like the idea that the effect of "making his soul an offering for sin" is that we have heightened sensitivity or awareness."

Context: while watching a soccer game, a good friend turned to me and asked about how I was approaching The Project.… Wondering what thoughts consumed at me most, etc. the game ended and we decided to continue the conversation over email.

"Regarding God's involvement and our trials…I think we as Mormons often emphasize the potential of mankind to become "like God", without giving equal airtime to the incomprehensible differences between God's state and our state. In our effort and desire to understand and live the gospel, we use words like perfection, omniscience, and eternal to describe God and then Somehow spend our time wondering what God's capabilities are???.… we are comfortable recognizing him as our Creator and the architect of the universe, but are somehow uncomfortable believing that he is truly unlimited in his ability to be involved in our development in ways that we lack of the ability to understand. I personally believe God operates on a higher plain… One on which time does not exist, past present and future are one, and the laboratory that you and I experience is it designed to give you and I experience and self awareness that we could not get any other way… A world filled with  "opposition in all things", both good and bad…"

Context: I received a happy birthday email from one of the better men that I know, continuing our old conversation about faith and empiricism.… Prompting me to write the following:

"I believe most arguments that directly or indirectly pit faith and religion against science and atheism rely on starkened semantics as a lever to eliminate shared belief. My experience is that the vast majority of people believe that they do not yet understand every force in our universe…with people's opinions ranging, and continually evolving, all along this spectrum from "I believe I understand almost everything," to "I've only begun to understand the universe." It is only when an author, usually with an ax to grind or name/dollar to be made, begins arguing as if there were no spectrum at all, but, instead, two camps named ATHEISM and RELIGION, that we take up sides and begin thinking of ourselves in one camp or the other even though our lives and actions bear ample evidence that we have remarkably similar beliefs."

Context: Dear friends are going through an amazingly deep trial and doing so with grace that I am personally inspired by. I wrote the following:

" I am convinced through my own experience that we really have no idea what others are experiencing at any given moment… We assume, but don't really have the ability to be in someone's head or emotions, or fears or relief…, some of what we assume about each other is just plain wrong. I've been caught off guard more than once when someone comes up to me in tears, assuming I am suffering and wanting to comfort me, and I think to myself, "Man, what can I tell this person? Thank you? That I haven't struggled with what they assume I am struggling with for years? That I think their struggles are comparable to mine? That, in reality, I'm quite content, or hungry, or in the mood to be distracted?" Sometimes, when I am tired, I simply don't want to receive any more empathy… I don't want to comfort anyone who is suffering on my behalf… I don't want to be the false high-standard for anyone's faith or anyone's inspiration. And then there are the times (usually after I've eaten and taken a nap :-)) when I feel like light pours in and I am able to go give and receive, to see the smallness of my fears, and the beauty of the empathy offered me”


Thursday, January 1, 2015

Our Biggest Year!

Hey y'all,  

At some point each day, I think to myself "MAN! I just learn something new, and I better write it down now or else I will lose it."… As you can see from the frequency of my entries, I have an incredible  ability to resist the temptation to do what I should :-) That said, it's the first day of 2015, and 2014 deserved more attention than I gave it. Here's to repentance!

I believe in premonitions…andthat my eyes are unevenly placed on my face. Both points were reconfirmed to me the other night when Amy pulled up a Facebook post from this time last year. 



Beside the Picasso-esque selfie, the caption reads: "Hey 2014, watch out. Seth just announced that we're going big this year. Whose with us?" What Amy's caption did not capture was that I said this less of a statement of determination, and more of a statement of a feeling. While I would like to say that 2014 went according to my master plan, looking back, there is NO WAY we could have planned last year… to be honest, not a single significant step was clear as we took the previous step, but each step was necessary to get to the next or next-next step. To illustrate:
  • Feb 9:   A wonderful, generous family makes an unsolicited offer on our Redmond home
  • Feb 14:  I have, after a priesthood blessing, a 180° change of heart, and feel strongly to accept
  • Feb 21: We accept the offer without knowing where to go...I'm ok with anywhere but Salt Lake
  • Mar 28: While on a weekend trip to Salt Lake, we walk through a home that feels like HOME
  • Apr 16: The wonderful, generous owners accept our unsolicited offer on their unlisted home
  • May 2:  While pulling it behind the U-Haul, my dad shows the Camaro to his auto body shop
  • May 5:  We arrive at our new home in Salt Lake City
  • Jun 6:    Over dinner with friends, ALS Crowd is born
  • Jun 7:    The Utah Auto Body Association choses the Camaro as their 2014 pro bono project
  • Jun 16:  We are invited to fill a June 18th cancellation at the UofU ALS Clinic
  • Jun 18:  KSL (our NBC affiliate) is at the clinic; their subject cancels; they ask permission to film
  • Jun 26:  ALS Crowd Radio does it first of nine 2014 episodes with KSL present and filming
  • Jun 30:  KSL films Sam working with the Utah Auto Body Association on the Camaro
  • Jul 2:     On Lou Gehrig's speech anniversary, KSL airs a piece about ALS and our projects
  • Jul-Aug: The Ice Bucket Challenge changes the trajectory of ALS forever  
  • Oct 4:    "Life's Miracles: The Project", a documentary about our family, airs October 4
  • Since:   We have been invited to lead national ALS projects, and are running to keep up
Even if these events had little significance for anyone outside our family, the significance of these events TO our family was monumental. It's hard not to be overwhelmed and emotional as I think of the moments listed above and the millions of seconds, impressions, and thoughts that came between them. I  think of our desires, look at the cadence of events, consider the events' impact on our family, and am blown away by how perfectly the cadence matches the impact and exceeds our desires…I  have no choice but to recognize A) the UTTER impossibility that there is no greater/higher power than me; and B) God's involvement in--or ability to be involved in--the intricacies of our lives. 

This is not to say that 2014 was easy… Fun, yes… Easy, no. 

Amy: I've begun, half jokingly, to tell people that we did our best to break Amy this year. Imagine, in the middle of a health ordeal, dealing with a husband who has refused to consider "moving home" for 13 years, and then, in one afternoon, changes his mind? Imagine keeping the above schedule and take care of all of us, while moving states… and somehow being energized by it rather than broken down?  Imagine allowing a camera crew into not only your half-moved-in home, but also into the most private areas of your life… All in the hopes that it will benefit others? How can she keep this up? There is simply no one like her.  Other highlights include:
  • Hawaii trips
  • Old & New friendships
  • 5:30 AM workouts
  • New portraits in her photography portfolio
  • Our new home
Sam: Despite his mother's concerns that we asked too much of a junior high age kid (to leave his friends,  home, and teams), I hope someday Sam will know what it is like when his 13-year-old son comes to him and says,  tearfully, "Dad, I feel like this move is the right thing to do… I've felt we have been frozen for a a while now ." I can tell him how he'll feel…his heart will well up to the point of breaking, and he'll feel hope that his boy has already mastered life lessons that the boy's father is just now learning. Highlights include:
  • Returning to Seattle to break his leg at Scout Camp
  • Stripping the Camaro
  • Visits from Seattle friends
  • Joining the mountain biking and wrestling team
  • Is currently in Rwanda Africa
Ellie: How do you keep moving ALL THE TIME? Who teaches themselves how to do an aerial? How can you be SO much like your mother? How can you, at 11 years old, have so much faith, be so good, and take care of everyone? Highlights include:
  • Finally has a trampoline
  • Required stitches only once
  • Reached the Washington state semifinals with her soccer team
  • Is currently in Rwanda Africa
Jayne: How can you be so dramatic and yet so selfless? How do you handle these teasing of your siblings and still adore them? How will you feel when your seven-year-old request something, like being baptized, by a dad who is currently more than a little wobbly? I will tell you… You will be proud and confident in your daughter's ability to choose what's right! Highlights include:
  • Was baptized by her dad (with helpers)
  • Has chosen basketball as her sport
  • Had her ears pierced
  • Has turned into a reader…She loves Laura Ingalls Wilder
Jacob: How can you be so intelligent at four years old? Complexity of thought and love for our family. Idolizes his brother. Highlights include:
  • Learned new things like- riding a bike, playing soccer, and going to a new school
  • Rides a jazzy like a race car driver
  • Loves cousin day (Monday) and being the triplet to the cousin twins
  • Love for the snow and hiking and camping
If "going big" refers to the comparative size of leaps made, the number of people met, the number of new experiences, or the potential to influence, this was our family's biggest year yet. 


Thursday, June 26, 2014

The Mormon "hello": miracles and heroes

As if it needed saying, we LDS (Mormons) have a culture with some unique characteristics. One such characteristic stems from our lack of paid clergy. Because weekly sermons (we call them "talks") are delivered by various men, women, and youth from the congregation at the request of the lay leadership, ANYONE can expect to be the speaker on a Sunday morning. It's often the case that recently arrived or departing members of the congregation are invited to speak as a way of getting introduced or saying goodbye. In our recent move from the Redmond Washington 3rd Ward, to the Holladay Utah, Valley view 24th Ward, Amy and I  were invited to speak at both ends of our move.  Because my symptoms increase with the effects of adrenaline, Amy agreed to deliver my talks if I would write them.  Amy did a great job and, I think, was a much prettier speaker than I am :-)

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 Redmond 3rd Ward, Sacrament Meeting, May 4, 2014

I am grateful that  Amy is willing to read a few of my thoughts to you. If this works out I plan to outsource all future speaking and teaching opportunities :-)


As we have prepared to move, I have been struck by a recurring theme in the Book of Mormon: the central role of memory in one's faith.  My favorite example is found in 1 Nephi  7:12 as Nephi reminds his brothers when their faith is shaken.

10 How is it that ye have forgotten that ye have seen an angel of the Lord?
 11 Yea, and how is it that ye have forgotten what great things the Lord hath done for us, in delivering us out of the hands of Laban, and also that we should obtain the record?
 12 Yea, and how is it that ye have forgotten that the Lord is able to do all things according to his will, for the children of men, if it so be that they exercise faith in him? Wherefore, let us be faithful to him.
In the 6 years our family has lived here in Redmond, we have been given a lifetime of memories that we will rely on during future trials. These  miracles have come, most often, through you. Whether it be your service to our family after Ellie's bike accident, your fasting and prayers during my health project, your  mentoring of our children, your priesthood blessings, or your endless cleaning, packing, or repackaging of our house, we see these as miracles. Nephi continues:

13 And if it so be that we are faithful to him, we shall obtain thealand of promise

This simple  passage reminded me that remembering the miracles I have seen in the past is critical for maintaining my faith when it is stretched thin in the future.
Because of the miracles we have seen, we have faith that we are making progress towards our own promised land, and the pain of our current trials is eased by this knowledge.

I leave with you my gratitude and my testimony of the restored gospel of Jesus Christ. I look forward to hearing of your progress and miracles.

In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

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"The Priesthood Man"-sacrament talk
Seth Christensen, Sunday, June 15, 2014

Good afternoon brothers and sisters. I realize this method of speaking is not what any of us are used to, but I beg your pardon since of my body does not react well to the adrenaline of public speaking. I am grateful Amy is willing to read a few of my thoughts… Think of this as a pilot program in the Church, exploring the effect of allowing only pretty speakers to address us on a father's day :-).

In the Elder Eyring's recent Gen. conference talk "The Priesthood Man" he recognizes three characteristics of his priesthood heroes: a pattern of prayer; a habit of service; and a rock hard decision to be honest. I would like to share examples of these three attributes, as well as one other, in my scriptural heroes:

A pattern of prayer: Enos is my prayer hero. We all know how he, while hunting, knelt and prayed all day for a remission of his sins. We also know that he next sought blessings for his people, and then for his enemies. This man is not my hero because of his  "knee endurance" or because he included everyone in his prayer, but because of what he records AFTER his second prayer. We read in verse 11:

" 11 And AFTER I, Enos, had heard these words, my faith began to be unshaken in the Lord…

It wasn't until AFTER this man had received a remission of his sins, AND had heard the voice of the Lord on behalf of his brethren, that his faith began to be unshaken in the Lord. This means that he offered his first two prayers, some of the mightiest in all of Scripture, using faith not dissimilar to my own imperfect faith.  Because of his example, I too have hope to hear the voice of the Lord as I seek him in prayer. For this, Enos is my priesthood hero.

A habit of service: My service hero is Alma the younger. We all know how this man, the first chief judge of the Nephite nation, stepped down to dedicate himself to the spiritual needs of his people. We also know that his ministry was not a bed of roses--he suffered hunger, imprisonment, ridicule, and frustration. He saw, what he must of felt, was success and failure. Alma is not my hero because of his success or failure on a macro scale, but because, in the midst of his national spiritual campaign, he did not forget the individual. We read in Alma 15:18 that, after their work among the Ammoniha-ites, Alma recognized  and acted on a need in his junior companion:

18 Now as I said, Alma having seen all these things, therefore he took Amulek and came over to the land of Zarahemla, and took him to his own house, and did administer unto him in his tribulations, and strengthened him in the Lord.

I aspire to be the friend, brother, and servant that Alma was to his people and to Amulek. I aspire to never be so busy that I am unable to recognize the individual needs and suffering of those around me… And to never fail to do what I can to address those needs. For this, Alma is my priesthood hero.

A rock hard decision to be honest: Amulek is my hero for this attribute. We know that he was a well-known and successful man from a good family in Ammoniha. This is why his words to his people shocked them. In Alma 10, Amulek recognizes his place in his society, and then continues:

5 Nevertheless, after all this, I never have known much of the ways of the Lord, and his mysteries and marvelous power. I said I never had known much of these things; but behold, I mistake, for I have seen much of his mysteries and his marvelous power; yea, even in the preservation of the lives of this people.
 6 Nevertheless, I did harden my heart, for I was called many times and I would not hear; therefore I knew concerning these things, yet I would not know; therefore I went on rebelling against God, in the wickedness of my heart, even until the fourth day of this seventh month, which is in the tenth year of the reign of the judges.

If these words had come from a man who was known to be dishonest, they would have meant nothing. But they came from Amulek, who, though spiritually unwilling to recognize God’s promptings, was respected in his society as an honest man. Because of his reputation, I can imagine the shock his words must have inspired because of the questions they would have stirred in the hearts of Amulek’s fellow citizens:  "why is Amulek doing this?" "I know he is honest, what explanation could there be?" And, "could I also have been wrong?"

I aspire to be like Amulek.… Honest in all things BOTH with myself and with others… willing to admit when I am wrong. For his example, Amulek is my priesthood of   hero.

I would like to add one attribute to Elder Eyring's list: a hunger for righteousness and knowledge. My priesthood hero for this attribute is Abraham. In Abraham 1:2 we read of Abraham's priesthood aspirations:

2 And, finding there was greater happiness and peace and rest for me, I sought for the blessings of the fathers, and the right whereunto I should be ordained to administer the same; having been myself a follower of righteousness, desiring also to be one who possessed great knowledge, and to be a greater follower of righteousness, and to possess a greater knowledge, and to be a father of many nations, a prince of peace, and desiring to receive instructions, and to keep the commandments of God, I became a rightful heir, a High Priest, holding the right belonging to the fathers.

I have a perfect knowledge of the "greater happiness and peace and rest" that comes through the gospel of Jesus Christ and the ordinances of his priesthood. Because of this knowledge I am overwhelmed to relate with Abraham and his desire to follow righteousness and to possess a greater knowledge and to be a better father and priesthood holder. Because of this knowledge, I desire the same for all of my brothers and sisters.

For his perfection of desire, Abraham is my priesthood hero.


I give thanks this is day for all of my priesthood heroes, both scriptural and present. And say these things in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.