The Road to the Temple

We all know that Leah and I got married, but because I'd taken a break from blogging, I don't have an entry on it. Let's fix that.

After I proposed to Leah on December 25, 2016, I called to make an appointment for our sealing at the Washington, DC Temple. As the sister working in scheduling collected my information, she noticed that I had been previously sealed and asked if I had an approval letter to be sealed a second time. I told her that I did not and, in fact, didn't know that I needed one. She explained that she would not be able to book our sealing until after I received the approval letter and that I would need to contact my Bishop, who would start the process. I thanked her for her help and hung up.

The process for getting approved to be sealed a second time was not easy. I had to listed in as much detail as possible any sins I had committed since my previous sealing, even those resolved with priesthood leaders. That alone was emotionally grueling, but then I had to do it again for the Stake President. I met with my Bishop and Stake President multiple times, the latter of whom suggested that we consider a civil marriage with a sealing to follow a year later. Leah and I both prayed about that option and felt that despite the difficulties we were facing, we wanted to "do it right" and get married in the Temple.

After meeting with the Bishop and Stake President several more times, our paperwork was submitted to the First Presidency for review. A little over a month later, Leah and I were called in to meet with the Stake President, who informed us that he had heard from Salt Lake: we needed to resubmit in four months. That was frustrating, but we obeyed and on December 26, 2017, I finally received my approval letter, signed by President Monson.

Starting from when I had first proposed a year before, Leah had been planning our wedding and reception. By the time I got my approval letter, she had her dress, all of the decorations, and had hired a photographer. Unfortunately, the Washington, DC Temple was scheduled to close for two years for renovation on March 4, so we were running out time if we wanted to be married there. During her preparations, Leah had even got us significantly discounted cruise tickets that we hoped to use as our honeymoon, but that meant that we would need to be married before the cruise left on February 9. So, we picked February 3 as our wedding date, which gave us a nice numerical pneumonic: 2/3.

In what seemed like a mad rush, we scheduled time at the Temple for Leah's endowment and our sealing; booked the Cultural Hall at the chapel of the ward we'd be in as a married couple; designed, ordered, and mailed out our wedding invitations; and planned the menu and conscripted people to help with food. It was a flurry of work—most of which Leah is responsible for—but we got it all ready.

I'm really pleased with how the invitations turned out, especially since I wrote the text

Thus, on February 3, 2018 Leah and I were sealed for all eternity at the Washington, DC Temple, surrounded by our endowed friends and family (we had enough people in attendance that we were moved to one of the larger sealing rooms). While it was a lovely ceremony, what was truly wonderful was that we had made important covenants that will last beyond our mortal lives.

It took a while, but I'm glad we did it right

A kiss worth waiting for!

Afterwards, we went outside and took pictures with the rest of our family. It was chilly that day, though still surprisingly warm for early February. In between pictures, Leah and several of the women grabbed a coat to keep warm. We took all of the family pictures first so that our families could be excused. Once Leah, the photographer and I felt we had enough pictures outside the Temple, we drove back up to Harford, County to prepare for the reception.

Notice all of the coats and jackets

The memories made that day may fade and the pictures taken may be lost, but the covenants Leah and I made that day will last longer than man can comprehend. For that, I am truly grateful.

Results

So, Donald Trump is the new president.  You may recall that I predicted that this very thing would never happen.  I’m mature enough to admit that I was wrong, though that’s not the purpose of this post.  Instead, I’d like to offer my thoughts about the recent election, including the results.

First, as I already mentioned, I didn’t support either candidate.  I felt that both Donald Trump and Hilary Clinton were bad choices, so I voted for someone who I believed would do the best job, despite knowing that he had no real chance of succeeding.  I feel good about my decision and I’m glad that I voted the way that I did.

Second, I was surprised that Trump won.  Polls showed Clinton as the leader, though by a narrow margin.  In addition to the polls, most media outlets mocked the Trump campaign and his supporters, leading many people—including me—to believe that while the election would be close, Clinton would be the victor.  When Trump won, I think we were all caught off guard. However, that’s actually a bit inspiring.  My boss, Magda, is originally from Poland and spent several years in Mexico.  She’s seen her share of rigged elections and she thought that Trump’s success proved that the American election process was honest.  As she put it, “It shows that the system works.”  Despite my lack of support for the president-elect, I must admit that her words do give me hope.

Third, I think I understand where Trump supporters are coming from.  When I served my mission in northern Ohio, I spent the majority of my time in more rural areas.  I remember one town in particular that had once been a manufacturing hub with four different plants.  By the time I visited, three of the plants had shut down and the third had slowed production.  The town was dying and the residents didn’t know how to cope.  I also remember meeting farmers who were using old, outdated equipment because, despite receiving government subsidies, they couldn’t afford to replace anything.  Most (if not all) of Obama’s policies benefited the working poor and middle class in cities, not the country.  After eight years of a president who they felt was ignoring them, the people who didn’t live in a major city wanted someone very different.  While Trump certainly had supporters in urban communities, the majority of his success was with people out in the country.

Fourth, protests are happening in cities across the US because of Trump’s surprise victory.  But what’s the end goal of those involved?  This isn’t like other recent protests such as those condemning police brutality—in those cases, the protestors wanted to be treated better by police, something that should happen anyway. With the case of the new president-elect, the protestors are complaining about not getting their way.  Besides that, Trump isn’t even president yet.  He’s been elected, but he won’t be sworn in until early next year.  Even if we don’t trust Trump, can’t we at least give our fellow Americans the benefit of the doubt for choosing him?  And even if we can’t there’s nothing that can be done at this point.  If he’s a bad president, he can be impeached, but there is no constitutional way to prevent him from taking office come January.

Finally, I was disappointed by how little respect Trump supporters got from the media.  Not the man himself—Trump makes himself an easy target for ridicule—but the citizens who attended his rallies and put his signs in their front yards.  They were depicted as dumb hicks and religious zealots who were too stupid to be reasoned with.  The fact that they were mocked so much may have had a hand in the election’s outcome.  While I haven’t heard of anyone saying that they voted for Trump as a way of protesting this mockery, I’m sure that at the very least it kept them from considering Clinton.  I imagine one of these people watching Saturday Night Live, Last Week Tonight, or even The Tonight Show and hearing something to the equivalent of “Are you thinking about voting for Trump?  Here’s a list of ways that you’re stupid.”  That kind of rhetoric isn’t going to convince anyone that isn’t already on your side.

I do like some of the things I’ve seen (mostly on Facebook) where people are sharing the sentiment that we need to unite as a citizenry and respect each other and the way we voted.  I didn’t vote for Trump and I don’t care for the man or his politics, but I believe in this country.  America is not a bunch of rules and documents; it’s people who believe in each other and those who have gone before us.  I believe in America and I hope that the rest of my brothers and sister in this, the greatest nation in the world, can share that faith with me.

Witness

After the baseball game a couple of weeks ago, I was driving home when I witnessed a car accident.

Traffic had been heavy near the city, but it opened up as I got farther away. On the freeway I was on, there are four lanes, which I will reference to as the lane closest to the center median as lane one and so on, with lane four being the far right lane.  As I neared the Fort McHenry tunnel, I tried changing lanes, moving from lane three to lane two (with the ultimate destination being lane one), but I saw a car in lane one move over to lane two where I wanted to be.  I was annoyed that he moved to where I wanted to be, so I slowed down and let him pass me.

Once he was in front of me, I kept an eye on him.  He kept moving from lane to lane, never using his blinker. I thought he was either a dumb kid messing around or was distracted (likely on a cell phone).  As I watched him, I noticed an electric sign with a flashing orange arrow in lane one, indicating that we needed to merge to the right—the Fort McHenry tunnel is made up of four tunnels with two lanes each (two tunnels going north and two going south) and occasionally half of the tunnels will be closed for maintenance, which was the case that night.  Not only did the driver who kept moving around not see the electric arrow, he drifted too far to the left and hit the center median, sending sparks flying.  Seconds after he hit the median, his car hit the electric arrow and he careened across the other lanes, finally stopping in lane four.

After witnessing the crash, I quickly decided to stop and see if the driver was okay.  I pulled over just ahead of him, parking my car in lane four with my hazard lights flashing (in retrospect, I should have pulled all the way over into the shoulder, though my car was fine where it was).  A truck driver also saw the crash and stopped his rig, blocking traffic immediately behind us.  I walked up to the crashed car (a white sedan that I would guess was at least ten years old), which judging from the damage, would never be drivable again.  The driver, a white male in his early twenties with a scruffy beard, was in shock but otherwise appeared to be fine.  He rolled down the window so we could speak.  While not word for word, our conversation went something like this:

ME: You okay, man?

HIM: Uh, I think so.

ME: Okay, good. Have you called 911, yet?

HIM: No.

ME: Okay, I’m going to call them.

HIM: Can I call my dad first?

ME: Let me call and get emergency services out here first, but after I call, yeah, you can call your dad.

I made the call and told the dispatcher where we were, which was easy since we had stopped right next to a mile marker.  She told me that crews would be on the way soon.  I then asked the kid (whose name was Billy) for his dad’s number so I could call.  With the number dialed, I passed Billy the phone.  His dad didn’t pick up, which makes sense since it was approaching midnight and my number would only show up as “unknown.”  Billy left a voicemail and passed the phone back.  With the calls made, we waited.

During all of this, the trucker walked over and checked on us and told me that he would wait for the road crew to arrive before taking off.  I expressed my gratitude and he walked back to the cab of his truck.  I asked Billy if he wanted to get out of the car and he decided that was a good idea.  I could tell that he was still in shock, so I decided to talk to him to try to get his mind off of what happened.  I asked him if had done any drinking that night (which I realize now was not a great opener), with the assurance that I wouldn’t say anything to the police.  His response?  “Obviously.”  I told him that at least he was okay, so things would work out.  He then started having a bit of a panic attack, saying that he wished that he had died in the crash.  He even got in my face a bit too close and said that if I had a gun that I should shoot him.  I think he was worried about getting a DUI on his record and didn’t want to face the consequences.  I tried to calm him down, but nothing worked, so I ended up just walking away, leaving Billy to lean against the side of his wreaked car.

Before too long, I saw lights flashing and heard sirens.  Before I saw any police, I saw the road crew come in so they could clean up the mess and get more than one lane of traffic flowing again.  The trucker told me that he was taking off so he would could his delivery and wished me well.  As the trucker walked away, I saw a police officer, so I walked up to him and explained that I was the witness who had called and gave my testimony of what I saw.  True to my word, I said nothing about Billy admitting to drinking that night.  I reasoned that my testimony of anything beyond what I actually saw would only count as hearsay and that the cops would use a breathalyzer anyway.  Once I got through everything, the officer asked me to wait in my car in case they needed anything else from me.

I waited in my car for about ten minutes when a different officer came up and tapped on the passenger window of my, which I rolled down so we could talk.  The officer gave me a paper form and a pen and asked me to write down my testimony, along with my contact information.  He also thanked me for staying saying, “Not a lot of people stay, so thank you.”  I filled up the allowed space on the form with my testimony, finishing just as the officer came to retrieve it.  He thanked me again for staying and told me that I may be called to testify in court, but that that was unlikely.  With that, I drove off, getting home around 12:30 AM.

The next morning, around 6:45 AM, Billy’s dad called me to ask how his son was doing.  I gave him the gist of what had happened and suggested that if he hadn’t heard from his son, that he call the Baltimore City police for more information.  He thanked me and wished me a good day before hanging up.  While the emotion strongest in Billy’s dad’s voice was concern, a close second was annoyance.  I think that Billy was arrested for driving under the influence and spent the night in jail.  I also suspect that it wasn’t Billy’s first time in that situation.

What I took from this experience more than anything else is how important it is to listen to promptings from the Spirit, even when we don’t realize that’s what they are.  I saw Billy switching back and forth between lanes with enough room to avoid him.  I decided to hang back and watch what he was doing, rather than speed up and pass him (which may have made me a part of the accident).  Once the accident occurred, I pulled over to check on him.  All of that was from the Spirit, subtly directing me, first keeping me safe, then keeping Billy safe.  I’m grateful that I was able hear the promptings and that I heeded them.

Chance Coincidence

I had the missionaries over for dinner last night (a different pair than before) and the Elder who gave the spiritual thought challenged me to share the gospel with someone soon.  I said I had a coworker in mind who might be ready, so I accepted the challenge.  Now, this particular coworker who I had in mind, is away at a trade show until sometime next week, so I didn't think too much of the Elder's challenge, at least for now.

At work today, I sent an email to someone and jokingly used the word moron (facetiously referring to myself).  This email was deemed humorous enough to be shared with a few friends, one of whom was the receptionist.  The receptionist responded back with a joke about how I left out the second M (making "moron" into "Mormon"), though only to her friend that sent it to her and not to me.  After all of this happened unbeknownst to me, I went and asked the receptionist an unrelated question.  Once she answered my question, she shared her joke with me, not realizing that it's a joke that I've heard off and on since high school.  And then, because I'm an explainer, I gave her a brief summary of the word Mormon (the prophet, the book, and the nickname for the church).

With that completed, I was going to walk back to my desk, but she asked another question: what do Mormons believe about karma?  (Not sure how she made that leap.)  So, I gave the Golden Rule as a quick answer, but then I delved a little deeper.  I explained that while we should do good, that doesn't mean that only good things will happen to us.  Sometimes bad things happen to us because of either our own or others' free agency or because God is placing an obstacle in our way so that when we overcome it, we're better for it.  I closed by quoting my current favorite scripture, 2 Nephi 5:27: "...we lived after the manner of happiness."  This seemed to really connect with her and she thanked me for sharing, adding "I needed that."  Before I walked away, I asked if she was interested in a Book of Mormon.  She said she was.

I wasn't planning that encounter and I'm not saying that it happened because the Elder challenged me to talk to someone, but it did all line up pretty well.  I don't know if anything will come of this exchange, but I'm glad I opened my mouth.

Ten Years Ago

I was thinking today that things are very different for me than they were in 2006.  That was the year that I first experienced being let go.

Prior to that year, I had only ever quit my jobs, giving proper notice each time.  But I decided that I was ready for something new, so I took a job in construction.  I had never done anything like it before and it showed.  Three-and-a-half weeks in, I was let go (the reason I was given was that, despite my learning the job at a fast pace, there was just too much work to do, so someone with a couple of decades in the field was being hired as my replacement).  I hated working construction, so I was happy to have a reason to not do it any more, but it felt weird suddenly not having a job.  I remember feeling like I would find something new right away, but I was still worried that I wouldn't.

Two-and-a-half months later, I finally started my next job, this time in a printing house.  It was a decent job with nice perks, but the tight schedule meant that I couldn't continue taking classes at the community college I had been attending.  So, after another five months, I gave my two week notice without having my next job lined up.  This was different than before, not just because I was the one who terminated my employment, but because I had prayed about it and felt that I would be okay.  Sure enough, I found something in time so that I was able to start the new job without any down time.  That new job was with BNi, a company I worked for under different capacities for three years, still the longest stint I've had at one location.

While 2006 was my first experience with being let go, it would sadly not be my last -- I was even straight-up fired a couple of times.  Still, looking back, I learned a lot and I can certainly say that I'm in a better place than I was a decade ago.

Take a Stand

On Friday evening, I met the missionaries in my ward for a teaching appointment.  I almost didn't accept their invitation to go with them -- I was really annoyed with them because they almost exclusively text me and they're really vague, which means that I have to text them several times asking questions before I know what's going on -- but I didn't want to punish their investigator for their faults.

When we got to the place of our appointment, the investigator met us with warmth and enthusiasm.  At first, I thought that meant that he was accepting the gospel, but I later decided that he was just being friendly.  The lesson was unusual and the Elders seemed lost every time we veered off course.  I did my best to pick up their slack, which they thanked me for afterwards.  The gentleman we were teaching, Dan, was uncomfortable with declaring anything with certainty.  The Elders brought up the apostasy and Dan said that there probably some bits of truth somewhere in the world.  I pointed out the New Testament makes clear the importance of Apostles and that without them, we don't have a complete church and while Dan didn't say he disagreed with that sentiment, I noticed that he didn't agree, either.

Later on, the Elders ask Dan to read the Book of Mormon, which he agreed to.  They then asked if he reads and prays about it and gains a testimony, would he be baptized -- which is all part of the pattern that I was taught to use while I was on my mission.  When the challenge was extended, Dan became very uncomfortable.  He talked about how he was Catholic and how that was fine and how our church was fine and how other churches were fine; different churches existed because that's what people needed.  Basically, he was espousing a form of moral relativism.  He seemed to be afraid of committing to any belief, perhaps because if he committed, he'd feel obligated to live by it.

In the end, Dan promised to read the Book of Mormon (with the caveat that he'd take his time and it might take him more than a year to finish) and the Elders asked him to call them when he was ready to talk more about it.  I was surprised that they let him go so easily, but maybe they felt a victory just in him accepting to read.

I'm happy that I went with the Elders to teach because it was good to be reminded that we need to take hard stances on our beliefs.  We can still be polite about it with other people, but we need to decide for ourselves what we believe and stand by it.

Second Chance

My first Sunday in my new ward wasn't as nice an experience as I was hoping for.  How was my second visit?

Well, Sacrament Meeting was ... distracting.  Look, I'm just going to say it: two cute girls that are home from college were the main speakers.  With my divorce (hopefully) imminent, I need to be aware of who's around me.  Nothing happened -- I didn't even introduce myself -- I just noticed, that's all.

Once Sacrament Meeting ended, a brother came up to me and introduced himself.  It was nice to have someone come up and be friendly and we chatted for a few minutes.  As we were talking, one of the Bishop's counselors (not the one I spoke to last week) told me that the Bishop wanted to meet with me when I had time.  Since I didn't have any obligations, I excused myself to see if the Bishop had time right then.  On my way to his office, I bumped into the other counselor, who said that he and his wife wanted to invite me over for dinner.  I said that sounded great and that he should let me know when they'd like to make arrangements (I haven't heard back from him yet, but my records still haven't been transferred, so he probably doesn't have my contact information).

I was able to catch the Bishop as he was headed towards his office and he said that if I waited about ten minutes, he'd be able to meet with me.  I readily agreed and sat down.  Soon after I sat down, another brother sat down next to me and we chatted while we waited for the Bishop to be available.  After about fifteen minutes, I was called in.  The Bishop simply wanted a chance to talk with me a little and get to know me a bit.  I suspect that I'll be getting a calling as soon as my records arrive, though he did make sure to give me his contact information so I can get in touch with him before I have access to the ward directory.

The rest of the day finished out pretty uneventfully, though yet another brother introduced himself before Priesthood started.

I think I was unfair about people not being terribly friendly on my first Sunday.  I was expecting more people to introduce themselves to me, but I was the new guy who stood up and said his name in Sunday School and Elder's Quorum: the introduction was done by me, so they didn't need make an effort.  How many times have I made the effort when I've seen someone I didn't recognize?  Not often enough for me to be disappointed.  Plus, last time nearly all of the ward leadership was reorganized, so it was easy to get lost in the shuffle.

I know that the Lord has directed me to live in this ward and one of the reasons why is to meet the next Mrs. Larsen.  I was excited to be there, so I wonder if any greeting would have felt satisfying.  Whatever caused me to be overly judgmental, I'm glad that I got over it by my second visit.

Unexpected Answer

I've been having trouble finding a new place to move to that suits my needs.  I've been looking for a place that's within my current ward's boundaries, but as close to my job as I can get and costs less than I'm paying per month now (I am losing my roommate in the process).  That left me with only two options, though I preferred one complex over the other.  I was about to submit the application when I decided to pray about it.  The answer I got was that I needed to keep searching.  Frustrated, I thought to myself, I don't have a lot of options left if I want to stay in my ward.  In response, the Spirit had one word stand out to me: if.  I had honestly not considered the idea of moving out of my ward.  I've lived here for over two years and I've really grown close with a lot of the members here.

With the next day being Fast Sunday, I took the opportunity to fast on the matter -- should I move out of the ward?  At Church, we had our new Bishopric announced and with all of the testimonies shared by both those leaving and those incoming, the presence of the Spirit was high.  I felt about 60% sure that it was time to leave before the meeting, but by the time it was over, that level of assurance rose to about 90%.  Just to be sure, I pulled my Home Teacher aside and asked for a blessing.  While there were no specific instructions that I needed to move out of the ward, I still received my answer that, yes, it was time to move out.

One big reason is that I need to be in the right place to meet the next Mrs. Larsen.  It's weird to think that moving to a new place is going to facilitate meeting my wife, but that's basically the story of how my parents met.  Even as I write this post, I can feel the Holy Ghost confirm the truth of the motivation behind this move.  Now I need to follow the Spirit and move into the right ward.  Prayers on my (our?) behalf in this matter would be very much appreciated.

Tick Tock

Yesterday was my father's 65th birthday.  It's nice that he's still so clear-minded at this age when so many other people lose their mental clarity as they get older.

His age got me thinking, and even got me to do some math: I, his third-born child, was born before he was thirty-three.  I'm thirty-two and and am still without children.  For those of you playing at home, that means my dad was well into having his family going by the time he was my age and I have to start over.

Now, I don't generally get existential.  I have little tricks to ease me into my birthday so it doesn't hit me all at once and even with the white hair in my beard and sideburns, I still look younger than I am (or so people tell me).  So imagine my surprise when I suddenly felt extremely old not on my birthday, but on my dad's.

This is not to say that I wish that Allison and I had had kids while we were trying to work things out.  Our divorce is going to be easier than it could have been because we only have to deal with each other.  And while I still hold to the fact that I don't regret the relationship I had with Allison, I also know that it's the best thing for both of us to get divorced.

But I'm really starting to feel my biological clock ticking.  I've always wanted kids, but now that desire is getting stronger.  I love my nieces and nephews and I even like (most of) my friends' kids, so I'm being reminded regularly that I'm not a dad yet.  And even if I meet the next Mrs. Larsen right after the divorce is finalized, we have to take into account courting and preparing the wedding, plus just being married for a little bit before we bring another life into the world, and we're looking at least a couple of years before I can add a new branch on my family tree.

Despite my frustration, I trust that the Lord is leading me in the right direction.  I just hope I don't have learn a new appreciation for patience before I get there.

Yoked

I've been following the lesson plan for Sunday School this year, which means I've been reading the New Testament.  After the Book of Mormon, the New Testament is the standard work with which I am most familiar, which means that I'm not so much following the narrative as I am looking for details that I missed before.

Recently I read where the Savior tells us to "take [his] yoke upon [us]" and find rest.  I looked up what a yoke was, even though I already knew what I would find.  What really helped was an image to better help us visualize what the yoke is.

Again, I knew what a yoke looked like, but this time, I really needed to see it.  While I know that the common interpretation is that we're strapped to one side with the Savior on the other, this time I saw it differently.  Christ is the master, the one who places the yoke of responsibility upon us, but who then is sharing the yoke with us?  Our spouse.  This simple metaphor that he gave is about eternal marriage.  While we're alone, we can still have a relationship with Christ, but we have just a basic harness to pull.  Once we make the highest covenant we can make in this life, we are part of a partnership.

I've been pulling my yoke all alone for awhile now.  I look forward to finalizing the end of my current partnership and finding someone who will pull her share of the yoke.

Divorce: The Good Times

I wanted to have one post dedicated to the all of the positive things that happened in my life because of Allison, so here goes:

• I've never laughed as much with anyone else in my entire life.  Allison could have a great sense of humor at times and we loved to laugh together.
• I had my first major breakdown while I was dating Allison.  I started having very strong panic-attacks and I stopped going to all of my classes, which I ended up failing.  She helped me to calm down and get back to school.
• Speaking of school, I am confident that I would not have finished my degree without her support.
• Did you know that she helped me develop a sense of style?  I never really knew what kinds of clothes to wear, but she helped to steer me in the direction that led to what I still wear today.  I was careful to put that she "helped me" rather than she "told me" because she didn't dictate to me what I should wear, she just refined the style that I had but was buried under indecision and a lack of focus and having a defined style is great for one's self-esteem.
• She taught me the value of good gift-giving.  Allison is amazing at giving gifts and despite how things may appear, some of that rubbed off on me.
• I got to have several iterations of beards and mustaches with her.  Very few women actually like facial hair on men, so I appreciate that she liked it when I experimented with mine.
• I really learned to listen to the Spirit because of her.  I realize that this one is more "in spite of her" but the strongest and clearest revelations I have ever received in my life were in response to prayers concerning her, including if I should marry her.
• I learned how to really work.  Once I was supporting a wife, putting my all into my job really became a priority.  Before that, "doing enough" was my general outlook.
• I learned to manage money.  During part of the time that we were dating, I went really far into my overdraft simply because I didn't want to check my account balance because it gave me anxiety.  That's really stupid, but Allison taught me that financial management doesn't have to be stressful.
• I learned how to love another person and how I want to be loved by them.

Divorce is hard enough so I wanted to take some time to focus on the positive things that happened in my failed marriage.  I'm glad that I did so that I can look back and see that even though it ended in divorce, this marriage was still worthwhile.

Tears of Joy

Samuel's family are working on their paperwork so that they can come to the US.

The ward members donated to raise the necessary funds so that he can be reunited with his family.  I went with him to meet with the Elder's Quorum President today so that he could have the total amount told to him.  When he realized that he is mere weeks away from seeing his family after a long three years, he started crying for joy.

While this is a great blessing for him and his family, this is also a blessing for members that donated money.  It gave them a chance to do some service that would positively change the lives of four people.

Not only that, but one of the members that was involved with me in the administration of the fundraiser told me how it was good to see how quickly everyone gave to make this happen.  They further explained that they had been disappointed by the ward during a past service project, so this helped restore their faith in the people that we see at church every week.

This does mean that I will be losing my roommate soon, but it's probably about time anyway.  Besides, he deserves to have his wife and children as roommates again, and I'll gladly losing some help in rent to help him get that.

Congratulations to everyone involved!

"Come and See"

In my scripture studies recently, I came across a phrase that was repeatedly used: “Come and see.”  This phrase appears twice in the first chapter of the Gospel of John.  First, right after Jesus is baptized and his divinity is testified by God the Father and John the Baptist, some of John’s disciples approached Jesus and asked where he lived.  His reply: “Come and see.”  Later, when Philip tells his friend, Nathanial, about having found the prophesied Messiah and that he lives in Nazareth, Nathanial scoffs and asks if anything worthwhile can come out of a town like Nazareth.  Philip’s response: “Come and see.”

It struck me as I read that this is a perfect approach to missionary work.  A coworker asks a question about the Book of Mormon?  Give them a free copy and challenge them to read it for themselves.  A neighbor asks where you go to Church dressed so nicely every Sunday morning?  Invite them to attend with you.  A friend asks about what the deal with that big fancy temple is?  Invite them to attend the visitor’s center with you (if one is available).

This very topic was discussed by Elder Bednar in the last General Conference, so it shouldn’t be surprising that these particular words stood out to me.  Even so, discovering the significance of this phrase for myself, rather than hearing a lecture (even one from an inspired man of God), meant that the lesson is much more personal and memorable.

In closing, I encourage everyone to remember the words of the Savior and, when the opportunity presents itself, invite.  Our responsibility is to share the Gospel with those around us; after that, the words of the Lord and the power of the Holy Ghost will do the rest.

The Worst Part

I have said more than once that the worst thing about my job is the commute, but that's unfair.  Not because the company I work for has no control over how far their office is from where I live, but because having a longer commute has its benefits.

In the morning, I take time to pray vocally.  It's a wonderful experience to be able to converse with my Father in Heaven everyday.  Even in the short time that I've been working for Danfoss, I've received some revelations regarding challenges that I face and I don't think I would have gotten them if I hadn't set aside time every morning to have a conversation with Him.

After I pray, I drive in silence for a while.  Life is full of too many distractions, so it's nice to just drive and let my mind wander - introspection is not a terrible thing after all.

After a few minutes, I turn on the radio and listen to the news.  This may seem to contradict what I just said about having some quiet time, but this is actually important.  Working in an office, I'm obligated to make small talk with people from time to time.  While I don't have to be familiar with every recent event to get by, it's still a good idea to have at least a vague sense of what's happening in the world.

In the evening, I'm tired from a full day of work, so having something to occupy my mind is helpful in keeping me alert.  I've listened to a few podcasts, but I recently started listening to an audiobook.  Again, this is just in the evening, but it's something that I look forward to.

And so with a little creativity, the worst part of my job is not only not that bad anymore, but it's actually an important part of my day.

The Price of Honesty

As I posted last week, I was able to find a temp job doing data entry work for the time before my real job starts on December 1st.  I started working at the temp-client company on Monday.  I knew that the job would last beyond what I was available, but I didn't have all of the details.

As it turned out, I was replacing a woman who was preparing to go on maternity leave and she was training me to do her job before she left.  That made me feel bad because when I would be leaving, someone else would have to train my replacement, taking them away from their responsibilities.  Even so, I followed my directions from the temp agency and didn't say anything about having a real job that would be starting during the time I was contracted to work.

I was learning the job well and everyone was saying how quickly I was picking it all up and how they liked what I was doing.  Plus, everybody was really nice and offered help constantly.  But I kept feeling bad about being dishonest.  A lot of comments were made about how I was really going to be helpful during my time there and how the various holiday parties are a lot of fun.  It was one thing to not say anything when no one was mentioning the length of my employment, but it seemed like people were bringing it up all the time.

At the end of the day on Tuesday, I found out that the woman I'd be covering for would be staying longer than expected.  She was originally scheduled for a C-section because the baby was in the wrong position, but after her final ultrasound she found out that the baby had moved to the right place so her doctor cancelled the C-section.  Her due date isn't until the Monday before Thanksgiving.

After the change of plans, I really had trouble sleeping.  On the one hand, I didn't want to keep being dishonest, but on the other hand, I really needed this job.  Working the two-and-half weeks before Thanksgiving would really help me be better financially prepared for when my real job starts.

Thursday night, I decided that I needed some advice.  I called my folks and talked them through everything and they suggested that I bring it up with my supervisor at the temp agency.  She's my boss, so if we could come up with a solution, she should be involved.  I was hoping that we'd be able to work something out so that I could still keep the temp job, but I was also prepared to be let go.

The next day, I called my supervisor on my lunch break.  I brought her up to speed on how I felt and she told me that I was the best candidate that the client-company had seen and they were really keen to have me for the job.  Apparently, they had been conducting interviews for weeks and were about to settle on someone when I came along.  That did help me feel better about having taken the job in the first place, but I still was uncomfortable staying under false pretenses.  I asked my supervisor to tell the client-company and I agreed to whatever was decided.

At the end of the work day, the department head at the client-company came into the office I was working in and congratulated me on getting a job and told me that she was sorry that I couldn't stay longer and that they had to replace me.  I thanked her for providing such a nice work environment and gathered my stuff and left.

I called my supervisor at the temp agency and confirmed if I was let go (I was).  She told me that the client-company held no ill-will against me and wanted to have me back for other jobs should I become available.  I'm glad that I left such a good impression with them, but it still sucks that I don't have work now.  The temp-supervisor agreed to call me if there were any jobs that come up between now and December 1st.  She said that with Thanksgiving fast approaching, it's likely that people will call out at the last second and will need to be replaced, so just in case, I'll be dressed and ready to leave around 7:30 am every workday from now until I start my job.  Hopefully keeping the routine won't be in vain.

While I'm sad that I lost the temp job, I don't regret my actions.  I made a stand based on my beliefs and following the Spirit, so even the job is gone, I've gained more than I lost.

A Job Well Earned

I got a job!

I'll be working as a technical writer for Danfoss, a Danish-based manufacturer of HVAC components.  I'll be working mostly in the marketing department, but there will be other areas where my skills will be employed as well.

One thing about this job is that it really feels earned.  Not that all of my past work experiences have prepared me for this position, but that I had to go through a lot to get hired.  Let me explain.

About two weeks ago, I was contacted by the head of HR about the job after seeing my resume posted on a job board.  She interviewed me over the phone, and while it went okay, I felt like I've done a better job of selling myself in the past.  Even so, the next week she contacted me to set up another phone interview, this time a conference call with the marketing manager and the product manager. That interview went much better.  While the marketing manager seemed to be happy with my responses, the product manager was much more enthusiastic: on multiple occasions he told me that he really liked what I said or how I described my approach to problem-solving.  Later that week, I was called in for an actual in-person interview, which is where things really start to get weird.

At the interview, I met with the head of HR again.  She had a few more questions for me that seemed like pretty standard stuff and she seemed happy with what I had to say (she was really hard to read just based on her voice, which is why I didn't think our first phone interview had been that great).  When we finished up, the marketing manager came in.  Similarly, she had a few more questions, but most of the big stuff had already been covered over the phone.  However, I was able to ask some questions to get a better feel on what was expected of me.  Once she left, I had another interview, this time the accounts manager - finally, someone new.  He asked me the most in-depth questions about my ability as a writer, even showing me a current brochure the company was using and asking me what I would change and why.  Understandably, I spent the most time with him.  Finally, I met with (surprise!) the product manager, who basically just gave me a pep talk about how he believed in me and how he was planning on recommending me for the job.  Well, knowing that I was getting one vote out of four was pretty nice.  In the end, I was interviewing for a little over three-and-a-half hours.

When I was driving home, I felt really good about the interviews.  I certainly had been "on" during the interviews, but it was more than that: it was a prompting from the Spirit.  It wasn't anything as solid as "you got the job" so much as an acknowledgement that I had done well and I hadn't been alone.  Even before recognizing the Spirit, I said a prayer thanking the Lord for doing well.

When I got home, I emailed the accounts manager some writing samples that he asked for.  I used a couple of documents that I had worked on at CAS Severn (and had received permission to use).  He emailed me back that night saying that what I had provided was exactly the kind of style that he wanted to see.  Then he asked for some creative writing samples.  This is literally the first time that has ever happened - good thing I've been writing so much this past year!  I wanted to show off different styles, so I sent him "Eloise and Thaddeus" (which has no dialogue), "Contact" (which is a radio transcript), and "Full Moon" (which is horror-themed).  I was told that I would probably hear back by Monday or Tuesday of this week.

Monday came and I had another interview with another company (the one that I had the webcam interview with).  There was just something off about the whole experience.  The answers that had gone over so well with the Danfoss people didn't really work with these folks.  Maybe all of the phone interviews had prepared me better?  Whatever the reason, I was dissatisfied with the experience.

The rest of the day passed with no contact from Danfoss.  I started worrying that maybe the short stories I had submitted were taken to be offensive - in the satirical "Eloise and Thaddeus," it's mentioned that Eloise is no longer attractive now that she has a tan and in "Contact," one of the characters uses the word "Jap," which is a slur.  I know that I wasn't being racist, but would they?

Finally, yesterday morning, I got a call from the head of HR, offering me the job.  I was super-excited, but I asked for some time to make my decision.  She gave me until Thursday to think about it.  In my excitement, I called or texted a lot of friends and family (if I didn't contact you, I apologize).  Once I was done receiving congratulations, I decided to get to the reason I asked for extra time: prayer.  Even before I could ask the question, I could feel the answer.  This was a good job, a job that I was supposed to have and not just an "in-between" job.  I called back and delivered my acceptance (I also contacted the other company and told them that I should not be considered since I had accepted a job elsewhere).

And while this whole experience is pretty exciting, there is one downside: I don't start until December 1st.  The problem is just preliminary stuff: I have to receive the paperwork in the mail, I have to have a drug test, they have to set up my desk and order my computer, etc.  And about the time all of that is done, it's the week of Thanksgiving.  I understand that the timing for me starting is lousy and why they wanted to push it back, but it still sucks.  Even so, the worry of where I'll be working has been solved and I can look forward to bright future with Danfoss.

And thank you to everyone who has been providing prayers and words of encouragement during this difficult time.  It was wonderful to know that I had people on my side.

Epiphany

In Elder's Quorum on Sunday, we had a lesson based on Elder Robert D. Hale's talk from last conference.  At one point in the talk, Elder Hale points out that Cain and his descendants "loved Satan more than God" and thus chose to disobey his commandments.  When we read this, I had a "liken the scriptures" moment when I realized how this applies to us.

Before I get to that, I do want to say that when I first remember reading that passage on my mission (I read it before, I'm sure, but it was on my mission when it stuck) that I realized how corrupt and wicked Cain and his children were.  They weren't simply prideful and wicked, like the Nephites during their times of unrighteousness, but they were in open rebellion to everything that God stands for.  They were true sons and daughters of perdition.

But Cain actually knew God and Satan, or had at least met them.  We aren't faced with a choice as tangible as Cain's.  For us, it may be the temptation to watch TV instead of read our scriptures, to go for a run instead of doing our home teaching, or hanging out with friends instead of attending church.  While we may be faithful otherwise, in those moments, we "love [blank] more than God."  We may not be choosing Satan over our Father in Heaven, but we are choosing something else and, therefore, saying that it is more important than obedience.

This may not be anything new to the rest of you, but it was a big revelation to me.  I know that we all struggle with certain things and that no one is perfectly obedient all of the time, but that's where the atonement comes in.  As we work to root the disobedience out of our souls, the Savior will make up the difference.

I am happy to have wonderful insights like this from the spirit, just as I'm glad to have a place where I can share said insight.

Calling for Samuel

We had a visitor in our home Wednesday night as a member of the Bishopbric arrived and asked to speak to Samuel.  I headed for my room to give them some privacy, but I was invited to stay.  As we all sat in the living room, Brother Wood extended a new calling to Samuel, which he accepted.  He will be the new Class President for the Gospel Essentials class.  Brother Wood asked me to explain what that would entail, I think because I'm a Sunday School teacher and I interact with our Class President on a regular basis.  Samuel was very excited at the idea of having responsibilities at church.

After Brother Wood left, I told Samuel that having a calling has kept me going to Church when I might have otherwise not gone.  When I was unemployed and depressed, I know that if I didn't have a calling to fulfill, I would have stayed at home multiple times.  He agreed that having a calling would be good.

I believe that this is Samuel's first calling in the Church.  He was baptized while he was living Mexico, but his Spanish is shaky, so I doubt that he had a calling there.  Regardless if this is his first calling or not, it's great to see him grow in the gospel and readily accept his calling with pride.

Sowing

On Tuesday morning, while I was saying my morning prayers, I felt prompted to ask to be guided to opportunities wherein I could be more fully invested in the gospel.  I wasn't sure what that meant, but I asked anyway.  I went to work and mostly forgot about the prayer.

That evening, near the end of my workout, I got a call from the full-time missionaries in the ward.  They were looking for someone to teach a lesson with them.  I immediately remembered the prayer from that morning and was ready to accept, but there wasn't time for me to get cleaned up for the appointment.  I told them as much, but they said they could push the time back thirty minutes.  I told them I would hurry and got the address from them.

We met with a single man about my age named Jason, who had been at church for the first time on Sunday.  Our lesson was about introducing the Book of Mormon to him, a subject I am very comfortable with.  Perhaps a bit too comfortable as I ended up talking more than the Elders, though they promised me afterwards that they prefer it that way.  Jason's attention was captured by the testimonies of the Three and Eight Witnesses and was ready to proclaim the book as truth, but I cautioned him to take time and build on that until he had his own testimony, too.  That seemed to surprise him, that we weren't content with him accepting the gospel on the words of another.  He promised to do some reading and we left with a prayer.

While I certainly accept that this teaching opportunity was an answer to my prayer, I think it makes more sense to approach it from the other end.  The Lord knew that I should go out with the Elders that night, so He inspired me to pray for such a chance; that way when I got the call, I was ready to accept the invitation rather than simply say I was too sweaty to go.  It was great to go teaching with the missionaries again I hope that my words had an impact on Jason.

The Wait is Over

Starting March 17th, I will be a full-time, permanent employee of CAS Severn.  I will be working as a Business Analyst, which I realize doesn't sound like "technical writer," but neither did Business Development Coordinator when I was at RJM, even though most of my time was spent writing technical document.  CAS Severn makes software, particularly for Medicare and Medicaid.  And, yes, this is the job that I had unofficially secured last week.

When the news came, I was dumbfounded.  My brain kind of seized up (perhaps not the best choice of words) and I couldn't believe it.  I first found out while I was at my temp job (I sneaked a peak at my email on my phone) and my mouth dropped open.  I had to force myself still to keep from shaking with shock.  I sent a text to my folks to try to make the news of the job offer more real; even as they texted me with congratulatory messages, reality still hadn't caught up with me.

That evening when I got home, I called and talked to my dad, mostly to give him some more details on the job.  As we talked about it, I kept giggling: I was suddenly so excited that I couldn't contain it.  Finally, it seemed to be real.  And it was awesome.

Thank you to everyone that has been praying for me to get real employment.  This has not been an easy three-and-a-half months, but I know that it was important for me to go through.  While I'll leave what I think the moral of my unemployment was for another time, I will say that I'm happy to have learned my lesson and that I'm ready to move on.

Now I just need to wait - like an overly exuberant child on Christmas Eve - and actually start the job.