Don’t comment HERE… click on this link and leave a comment. If there are 500 individual comments left, then my friend, Jose, will donate $1000 to Children’s Cancer Research Fund. Easy peasy!

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My friend, Jacqui, sent me this email today about her experience at church recently:

Today in Sacrament we listened to 6 men they wore short haircuts and white shirts with colorful ties, they smiled and joked. They looked like you and me but this was a sacrament meeting unlike any other I have ever attended and one of the most sobering times I think I shall ever experience but also one of the most spiritual times I shall ever encounter.

Within our ward boundaries we have a drug rehabilitation center called the Renaissance Ranch. People come from all over the country to attend, but all are members of the Church Of Jesus Christ Of Latter Days Saints. For an hour and a half our family and others listened to these men young and old confess that they were all recovering drug addicts and alcoholics.

You might think that these men were what you would consider your stereotypical drug addicts from broken homes and not very educated but they weren’t. These were men, who had been successful in their lives, who had been bishops son’s and had served missions, been sealed in the temple and had loving parents. As we listened they spoke to us of the devastation that drug addiction had played in their lives and how it has damaged their families. They spoke of what had brought them to this point and they also spoke of how the atonement was what had finally brought them home.

Our first young man spoke of how he had been in a family that looked perfect from outside but was emotionally distant within, though they attended church, they were unhappy as a family.

Our second young man from Arizona spoke of how he had served a mission, he was one of five kids and had loving parents but he also spoke of the expectations that come from being a latter day saint and how we are often given the message to be perfect and how often we are judged by those around us if we get it wrong and how we feel we sometimes cant live up to those expectations, so we live a lie. This young guy spoke of how he and his counselor wrote on a stick it note “today is the day I begin to live real.”

Are you living real? Are you happy with your life? Are you being really who you are? These were all questions he asked us. We aren’t expected to be perfect. Begin today by living real, being honest and open about what you really are.

Our third guy who spoke to us, he too had served a mission and had a good career, been married within the temple , he had a beautiful family with four children, he was sixty days clean, he had just two years ago began using drugs by the time he arrived at the renaissance ranch he was a heroin addict. He said he felt worthless till he was able to put the atonement within his life.

You see, yesterday I realized the power the atonement really has within our lives. These men told us that they had been to hell and back literally that they had done things that they were so ashamed of, that it was only through the atonement of Jesus Christ that they could stand before us and truly know they were forgiven.

Our last man who stood before us was not young, he was graying around the temples, he was older than the others, he looked like he had been here before but one thing he said touched everyone, he said “help someone around you who is struggling and help yourself in the process.”

I looked at my children today and wondered what lessons could be learnt from these men and the other recovering addicts that have passed through our ward this past year. I think the words that were spoken rang loudly in my ears; it’s okay to be you, to make mistakes. Today is the day we can all begin living real, the day we can use the Saviors atonement within our lives.

Today is the day we can look around us and realize we are all part of the same family and that when we help those around us suffering we help ourselves. I felt inspired to share this experience; it certainly made me think of what is real in my life. I hope you can for a moment ponder on what is real in your life and then if you feel someone else may benefit from reading this… PAY IT FORWARD.
Jacqui

I don’t think she meant to start an email chain by that last line. But I posted it because I thought it was a good point about being judgemental, (critical, if you will) even within our own families.

Recently, we had a family over for dinner and the husband made a comment that I found interesting. He told me, “I’m glad you talk to me.” Then he explained that he’s a friendly person and says “hi” to people who pass him. In his experience, he’s found that many women shrink away, especially if they see that he has a wedding ring. It’s as if because he’s wearing a ring, he shouldn’t talk to women other than his wife (um, what country do we live in?) or that means they’re going to have an affair. That broke my heart to think that a nice guy is getting treated that way because of a snap judgement being made. He doesn’t seem creepy or look weird – I’d understand if people were apprehensive if he were, although that wouldn’t be an acceptable excuse.

I wish more people would just be niiiice to everyone.

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All I want for Christmas is a bathroom door and insulation in the attic.

Pretty pitiful request, isn’t it?

Not diamonds or crafting items, photo gear or shoes. We are a healthy and happy family with no ‘needs’ that haven’t already been fulfilled (because, really, how many needs should we have?). I would just like a door for privacy and noise reduction. The insulation, well that’s a no brainer why I would want that… brr and cha–ching.

At dinner Friday night, we were told a story about a young family Monica knows (she helps take care of him/them) who are having some incredible hardships. Two under 3 with another on the way when dad is in an accident that leaves him paralyzed from the neck down and unable to work. He’s twenty-six and she’s twenty-three. Insurance cancels their policy, she has the baby and loses her job (I’m not sure in what order). Hopefully I’ll get their info pretty soon so those who are interested in helping their family this Christmas, and beyond, will be able to. They live in Utah.

We are blessed and I can’t complain.

UPDATE/EDIT: Monica sent me this…
I read your blog this morning. Thanks for what you said about Ben and his family. Here is a little info… Ben is a friend from Seattle. He has a 3 year old little boy named Aden. Aden is very shy, but very sweet. He likes anything to do with cars. Hailey is 2 and the cutest thing ever. She is more outgoing and often talks for her older brother. She loves kitty’s and anything girly. Ben’s wife Megan just gave birth to a new baby boy named Kurt Corey Brust after Ben’s dad that died a few months ago, and Corey is Ash’s little brother thats in Iraq. Baby Kurt is a sweet little guy. Here are a few links with more info about the family. Anyone who wants to help can email me (monica *at* brides club dot com) or they can go to Ash’s blog, and he has a donate button for a paypal account.

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Just went out to dinner with a few friends (thanks, friends) and had a marvelous time. Oh, I should start by telling you what I did YESTERDAY…

I say, let’s leave for the airport at 4:30. Ben says, it doesn’t take that long to get there so we plan to leave at 4:45 and end up leaving at 4:56. My flight (which is the last of the night) leaves at 6:20. Stuck in traffic, I keep glancing at the time as it gets past 5:20, 5:38 then 5:57. Call up Southwest and the only thing she suggests is to ask for cuts at security to catch my flight or reschedule for the morning (Tiffany and her girls are picking me up at 9:10 and my last dental appointment is 10am the next day). Get out of the car at 6:09 (oh, I should mention that I DID say a silent prayer to help me make my flight). I book it to security… lines are too bad but it’s still about 30 people and I don’t muster the courage to ask for cuts (yeah, ME). The security guy waves me through at 6:12 and I get behind a couple military boys. They’re unlacing their boots when I say that my flight is in 9 minutes and they gladly let me go ahead (and say their flight isn’t for another two hours so they have plenty of time). About to waltz through the x-ray thingy (I know it’s not an x-ray, but you know what I mean) and realize I have my hefty metal belt… rip it off in a flurry and slap it on the dealio before walking through without a beep… YAY! It’s 6:14 so I’m hurridly redressing and start hauling tail to Egypt. Because at SeaTac my gate is ALWAYS in Egypt (almost as bad as the SLC airport). The digital clocks along the way say 6:14 then 15. I have to stop running because my pants aren’t staying up (didn’t get the belt on) and I feel like I’m going to hyperventilate. Yes, now is the time I’m thinking about how out of shape I am and that I should work out… someday. I’m walking as fast as I can and pounding my chest thinking that will keep my heart beating. It’s 6:16 and four minutes from take-off when I think about how they close the doors five minutes before departure. I see Egypt… it’s the round area at the end that you can never tell where the gate is for some reason. My eyes scamper around frantic to find the gate… there it is… but there are a bunch of people standing in front of it. “Excuse me, (gasp, pant, pant) is this the Southwest flight to SLC?” Yes, it is, and they’ve delayed boarding but we don’t know why. Hallyjulia!

So I make my flight, see a buddy (Steve S. who rides a chopper) and friend (Kathy G.) then use the plane restroom because I love the flush and washing my hands (but I’m not OCD, as one attendant suggested… I just like to wash my hands, especially in public). If you’ve made it this far in the story, I commend you (and you’re probably my mother), because it’s not all that interesting and I’m not trying to be creative because I need to hit the hay. But I’ll keep going.

Tiffany and the girls pick me up, we drive through Taco Hell for a Grilled Gordita (chipotle-style, whatever that means but it was good) since I missed dinner altogether and then she shows me her new art gallery on our way to her new loft in the city. I stayed there last night then she drove me to her extra car in the morning (I’m using it while I’m here, YAY). I forgot she had cats but I didn’t have a huge reaction (slight, but I’m not complaining). Her loft is SO cute and the gallery is amazing!

We’re to this morning (I had a cup of strawberry yogurt so I wouldn’t get crap stuck in my teeth). I got my 2nd set of temporary teeth off this morning then meticulously had work done to put on my six new permanent front teeth. Dr. Hillam and my dental lab tech (Hi Craig) spent more time than normal, but they made sure I have the best dang teeth on the planet. Really. I’ll post a picture sometime (although, I just realized I don’t really have “before” pics to show the comparison, but whatever). Dr. Boehme had done the gum reconstruction surgery in August that prepared my mouth for the better, newer teeth. HE did an amazing job. All-in-all, it was an amazing transformation. I’m a big smiler, so this makes me thrilled. I spent WAY more time in that dental chair than I thought but it was all worth it in the end.

Missed lunch (in the chair) and waited ’til dinner/dessert with friends at Carrabba’s. Oh, I did have a chocolate chip cookie with McKinley and Olivia, but no milk (dangit). Saw Lauri and Perry’s new baby, Jack (I’d link but I’m tired), took a gal to see our washer and dryer for sale (she purchased them), unloaded the mail THAT’S SUPPOSED TO BE FORWARDED TO OUR NEW ADDRESS from the mailbox, swung by the Harley shop to hug Lance (he taught the Riders Edge course at the Harley dealership) and maybe pick up a shirt for Jack and Piper (2 separate ones, of course) and started on some med’s to keep my pain at a low threshold.

So, dinner. Laurie, Monica, Tillia, Cathy, Jen and Sarah made my night fun with catching up and talking deep (mostly) and shallow (not as much). Jared was our server, as I always request (dangit it’s his last week because he’s quiting to concentrate on school — yay for school, boo for when I visit). I asked him if he’d do anything I ask… he said yes (that’s a whole ‘nother story about why he’d trust me enough to answer YES before I tell him what it is). So the owner (whom I love and is my friend) came back with the container of cinnamon and a teaspoon. See, this isn’t the first time we’ve done this. Tristan was the first then a few other servers and a hostess. We told him that it’s impossible to swallow a teaspoon of cinnamon. He said, “Oh that’s easy. I can do it,” then put it in his mouth and closed it tight. First came the wide eyes then the poof of smoke from his nostrils. Then another shocked look and another nose poof then a puff out his mouth before he bee-lined to the back for water. I guess we should check to see if that’s dangerous. So far it’s just been funny. Brenen is the one that told me about it in the first place.

Anywho, I’m beat and have a busy day tomorrow with Kristy and Phil’s wedding! Hope you didn’t mind the long and boring story of my day. Peace out.

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