refiner's fire

1 Peter 1:7 – That the trial of your faith, being much more precious than of gold that perisheth, though it be tried with fire, might be found unto praise and honour and glory at the appearing of Jesus Christ.

Two years ago today, I was standing toe to toe with local newscaster Rod Decker trying my best to answer his question: "so, how do you feel?" as my home was burning in the background, and news helicopters circled overhead.

With 730 days of perspective, I would now have to respond, "I feel blessed." I have so much to be grateful for...the thoughts, prayers and helping hands of family friends and strangers as I begin to begin again.

Reflecting back on my personal plagues, I have come to understand the Lord's words "that your burdens may be light" differently. The Lord's promise is not necessarily to remove our burdens, or even lift them, as I had previously thought. Another definition for light is knowledge. For me, the "burdens" of recent experiences have brought additional "light" or knowledge. I understand some things differently largely due to having to carry some unusual burdens. I believe that we are privately tutored by our challenges...and we all have them. Instead of feeling weighed down by difficulty, consider burdens are a vehicle to light, knowledge and understanding.

Alma taught: "...may God grant unto you that your burdens may be light, through the joy of his Son. And even all this can ye do if ye will. Amen." (Alma 33:23)

My best to all of you who are currently being tutored by trials.

Go and roast a marshmallow as a memorial for today.

nauvooish

Lately I've been feeling a little Nauvooish. My pioneer friends understand that term–it is a longing to connect with simple truths; the need to analyze one's personal progress in God's plan; and the desire to access inspiration. Quite often when I feel the need to refocus, rededicate and renew myself, I retreat to my favorite destination, Nauvoo: The City of Joseph.

It has nothing to do with sentimental souvenirs. (I resent that a generation of merchandisers have Seagull Book and Tape and Bed and Breakfasted it to death.) What draws me there is the sanctified silence. It's the far reaching farm lands, a balanced picture of bounty and industry. It's the consecrated craftsmanship of celestial spires and handmade bricks, evidence of a generation's devotion to faith and family. It is evening light reflected at the river's edge, revealing God's providence, goodness and promise of peace at journey's end. In addition to providing a church history lesson, for me, Nauvoo is an extra-sensory Temple experience.

I am currently planning another pilgrimage for May. Depending on my travel mates, typically I fly into Kansas City and meander my way through Missouri, hitting all of the significant sites, including: Liberty Jail, Far West and Adam-Ondi-Ahman. This year I am adding a random element of sheer fun to the usually introspective experience. The other day I noticed that "Wicked" will be playing in Kansas City in May. I have heard great reviews of the show and couldn't think of a better place to experience the ride over the rainbow, than from where Dorothy was first caught up in the twisted tale.

If anyone wants to join the Wicked Church History Tour this spring, let me know...I'll save some space in my wagontrain.

the plan

jealous neighbor

With five feet of snow still piled up in the yard, it is still very much winter in Liberty. But spring is just a 20 minute commute down Ogden Canyon–so driving to work is like fast-forwarding the seasons. Pulling up to Jefferson Square, I am immediately made aware of the need to focus on it's curb appeal. Currently the only flowers on the property are displayed in the stained glass windows, and not planted in the ground.

One hundred years ago, Mr. Pingree built his home across the street from the home of his banking associate, Mr. Eccles. While I don't know the relationship the two gentlemen had "back in the day," this past weekend I entertained the idea that they shared a friendly competition of stellar yard maintenance.

Looking over from the Pingree porch to the Eccles' grand Victorian, which now serves as Ogden's community art center, I couldn't help but feel a little jealous of their sculptured gardens. And so, to some degree, I had the idea of rekindling that imagined rivalry. I've been sketching plans and have consulted some landscape designers. New sidewalks, new sprinkling systems and new sod is on the way. Let the landscaping wars begin.

march 10, 1925

Happy 83, Dad.

You've handled the candles well.

undammed

A sweet sixteen years ago, I traveled back and forth across the Glen Canyon Dam going about my missionary duties near Page, Arizona. It was an impressive sight, but for some reason I always felt uneasy traversing the bridge. While I trusted the engineering to be sound, the strength of the pent up waters was evident.

In The Book of Mormon (2 Nephi 9), the Prophet Jacob brilliantly outlines the Plan of Salvation. Today I was tutored in the tragedy of choosing to "remain...in misery," as a devil, becoming stopped from advancement. Like the mighty Colorado River held back from its designed course, we too can become dammed from our divine destination. Power without progression equals damnation.

In blissful contrast stands the celestial conduit of the Atonement. As The Architect of the Great Plan, Heavenly Father tasked His Son Jesus Christ to build the bridge that transports us from Satan's realm to Gods' domain. It is our opportunity to traverse it, and this life is the time.

I want to heed Jacob's warning not to "waste the days of [my] probation" (vs 27). Consequently, I am currently enrolled in a leadership program designed to distinguish where in my life I am experiencing a loss of freedom, power or full self-expression–where I am blocked. I then receive training on how to transform those areas that aren't working in order to powerfully live a life I love. Like going to the gym, it provides a demanding workout. As part of the coursework, participants create a community project and declare who they are for humanity. It is an amazing experience. I am inspired by the people who play big in the world, and in their lives.

One assignment I have to complete is to "interview" people in my life who, like a rear-view mirror, can see into my blind spots. In the coming weeks I will be requesting some assistance in this area. I am seeking people who can be straight with me, brutally honest with me, to help me see what I cannot see. To those who will accept this challenge, thank you in advance. I want to be better than I am, and I realize that I have to rely on others in order to get there.

I want to do all I can, in order to become all I can, and leave the rest in the capable and loving hands of the Savior. I am confident that He makes whole any deficiency. As Jacob promises, because of the Atonement–the bold bridge–the naked and dirty become covered and clean, and all things are redeemed, restored and delivered (vs 11-14).

O then, my beloved brethren, come unto the Lord, the Holy One. Remember that his paths are righteous. Behold the way for man is narrow, but it lieth in a straight course before him, and the keeper of the gate is the Holy One of Israel (vs 41).

to beard or not to beard

As a twenty-something with the face of a fourteen-year-old, it was difficult to be taken seriously in the business world. While working for a design firm, the installation crews I supervised did not like to take direction from "some young punk." So, in order to generate respect and be related to as an older, more competent professional, I had to do something about my appearance–hence, the beard.

When I was child, my Aunt Bobbie commented about the wide span between my mouth and nose. "That is a perfect place for a mustache," I recall her saying. And so, when the time required it and maturity made it possible, I obliged. A red beard has been a fixture of my face space for most of the past 15 years. It connected me somewhat to my beloved pioneer ancestry and was the distinguishing feature I used to describe myself when arranging blind date rendezvous. I even carried the rare and coveted "beard waiver" stamp of approval on my BYU student ID card. I had to unwhisker myself for a few semesters while participating in some travel-study programs, but because of my attachment to it, I persuaded a doctor to submit a request that I keep the fuzz. (It didn't hurt that he was an avid U of U fan, and thought the "no beard" rule was ridiculous. I have since repented of stretching the truth to have "mental health and professional well-being" considered to be "medical reasons.") It provided an air of confidence to a self-doubter, a sense of ruggedness to a city dweller, and to some degree helped to camouflage my self-consciousness about my lip deficiency and chubby boyish cheeks.

Until this morning.

After routinely revving up the beard trimmer in front of the morning mirror, somehow between the time I set the guide and when it came in contact with my unruly red stubble, it dialed down a few notches. Had I initiated the trim on either cheek, I could have fashioned the "close shave" into a trendy goatee for awhile. But the GQ gods must have still been sleeping at that hour, and the result was a reverse mohawk on my chin.

Although it served its purpose, helping me to look a little more grown up, over the past year or so I think the beard's maturing powers may have started to play against me. More than once well-intentioned matchmakers have slipped me phone numbers of single women a good fifteen years older than I am–thinking we were in the same age bracket. Don't get me wrong, I would love to be a grandfather, but I think I would like to work up to that...as well as another beard, someday.

progress report

As per Katie's request, I am posting some "then" and "now" pictures of my Jefferson Avenue project. I can't call them "before" and "after" pictures because I didn't have a camera when the renovation began, and there is still much to do before I can actually call it finished. Extensive work such as new plumbing, electrical, heating, air conditioning, foundation and roof draining systems, insulation and sheetrock is now complete. Finally! It is a nice milestone to get to this point, but giving it new "innards" (all of the ultra-expensive behind-the-scenes stuff that is important, but that no one ever sees) is hardly visually satisfying. The next big hurdles include: painting, flooring, fixtures and furnishings. If you are skilled with a paintbrush, can "sew like the wind" or are electronically minded, be on the alert–your talents may get tapped.

Now the real fun begins.

carrot nose

My nephew James is four. He likes to tell jokes. This is his current favorite:

What did one snowman say to the other snowman?

"I smell carrots."

It's seasonal–I'll give him that.

chamber of secrets

The Pingree Mansion/Jefferson Inn has an unusual color palette. Different combinations of red, orange, and three shades of green adorn the windows and walls. Trying to honor the history of the house I have reinterpreted these colors in the new surfaces and finishes during the renovation.

Installing red and orange tile in one of the suites made for a fairly vibrant shower stall. It wasn't until the alternating colors were cemented in place as the base tile however, that I realized I had inadvertently recreated Harry Potter's scarf.

My initial intent was to create the rooms in the context of their arts and crafts and art nouveau roots, and not attempt to produce Anniversary Inn-type "theme" rooms. But with this situation presenting itself I am considering another approach. Perhaps the personality of each room could be inspired by classic or popular literature. I don't know quite yet. What do you think? Maybe I should look past the contemporary comparison, as the effect is quite dramatic in its own rite.

Seeing the bathroom come together, my general contractor made the following comment: "That looks really good! You sure can make colors work together. Perhaps you could get a job designing flannel shirts."

Considering that he was wearing a flannel shirt at the time, I decided to take it as a compliment. I think.