Gassy Steam Rooms

Imagine a rather chilly february night in the shadows of the everlasting hills. You and your fiance stroll into a Gold's gym and take in the mixture of body oder, cologne, and the latest Ed Hardy gear. It's always so refreshing to get back to the used car dealer of the gym world.

There I was, smack in the middle of one of my least favorite places to spend my free time. (Don't get me wrong, I enjoy the gym as much as the next guy. I spend a few days a week at one, in fact. Gold's Gym is not one I generally willing go to.) Having just muscled through the workout at SLC Crossfit I wasn't exactly motivated to do much. Kendra and I had actually gone there with the intent of sitting in the steam room. It has become something of a tradition of ours. After Kendra had spent some time running and doing some of her usual exercises we meandered back to the steam room.

The glass door swings open and steam rushes out of the tiled trimmed room and we make our way through the cloud back to the bench. Finding our spot in the corner we sit. There wasn't much for company this time around. We got comfortable as the last remaining person in the room found there way to the door and then out. Shortly there after a pocket sized Asian women came walking through the door sporting her one-piece suit. She fell into the spot just to my left and kicked her feet up on the bench toward me. Kendra and I continued on in our usual small talk when the most comical event of the night took place. The little Asian grandma let out a belch that would put most teenage boys to shame. Writing it now I grin and laugh a little as I picture that tiny black figure filling her corner of the room with her latest dinner's smell. It must have been good. She just carried on with her business - stretching, wiggling her toes and whispering the unknown through the mist. It made my rather reluctant trip to Gold's Gym that night worth all the pain of being there. I would have hugged her, but that would be weird.

Shortly after her gassy contribution to our steam room experience she stood up and flip-flopped across the tile floor, through the door and out of my life forever. Gassy lady, I bid you adieu.

Kendra and I pulled ourselves together and dripped our way out to my car in the parking lot. Certain to return to Gold's Gym for what will hopefully be another entertaining experience in the steam room.

Entitlement: covenant making and covenant Keeping.

This is a portion of an email exchange between my brother and I. We have discussed the topic of entitlement over several emails over the course of the last week or so. I have gone back and forth about to post my thoughts or not. I tend to see this stuff as personal and sacred. I am going out on a limb tonight and letting some of it out for public consumption and criticism. I hope it serves as not only interesting but enlightening. Maybe some day you will all be lucky enough to read my brother's words. As for now, without his permission I will keep them locked away in my inbox. Enjoy.

I often find myself somewhat frustrated (that may be a bit strong but it's the only word that comes to mind for now) while I sit through Priesthood and Sunday school lessons. I'm sure that there are plenty of reasons, some of which I am consciously unaware of and consequently unable to rationalize. However, at the ripe old age of 26 I am a stickler for doctrine and it makes my skin crawl to hear how frequently it is miscategorized, mistaught and handled lightly. To lend some sympathy to my peers I realize that I have a generally serious approach to life that most people my age probably don't. So, singles wards are generally filled with funny guys "peacocking" in front of the ladies. As guilty of said actions as I am, it's not why I am at church.

We covered Matthew 5 in Sunday School last week. I can't help but wonder how many people walked away really getting the things that the Lord had to say in the first chapter of the Sermon on the Mount. I know I didn't get it all. Something that did stand out to me was verse 13. Having our conversation fresh in my mind I was looking for things pertaining to and stemming from entitlement. "Ye are the salt of the earth: but if the salt have lost his savour, wherewith shall it be salted?It is thenceforth good for nothing, but to be cast out, and to be trodden under foot of men." My inclination in response to the teachers question was to answer that "we" are the "salt of the earth" because of the priesthood, covenants and our belonging to Israel. Attempting to dilute his casual jokes about not knowing "much about salt" I ended up lost in thought a bit on my padded folding chair. Are we indeed the "salt of the earth" because we are covenant makers? Because we hold the priesthood? Does taking part in those things intrinsically grant us partnership into Israel, the Lord's covenant people? Will the Lord really keep us and preserve the earth because we have accomplished those things? "Here's the rub." (to quote Elder Holland)

What about all of those other great people who live great lives and never experience the true covenant making of baptism and of the temple? Would the Lord preserve the earth for people who haven't made covenants like that but live life arguably better than some covenant makers? That last one is a doozy. I don't know that it really could be answered. (I like to think "yes" but I don't want to stray from my thoughts here). Or would the Lord only keep and preserve Israel because Israel is comprised of covenant keepers? If the salt loses its "savour" then it is "thenceforth good for nothing, but to be cast out." If we as Israel, the covenant makers, cease to KEEP the covenants that they entered into do we simply wander adrift lost in our own deceit that the God of Israel would somehow rescue us from ourselves by his own doing? I think not. It is then that God would be "mocked" and allow Israel to continue to look "beyond the mark." (Jacob 4:14)

Keeping such covenants is a large topic that spreads across the Gospel as a whole. Keeping it under the context of Matthew 5 I simply look to the close of the chapter. These for me were a couple verses in scripture I really didn't understand until just this last year. Matthew 5: 46 - 48 reads:

"For if ye love them which love you, what reward have ye? Do not the publicans do the same?

And if ye salute your brethren only, what do ye more than others?" Do not even the publicans so?

Be ye therefore perfect, even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect."

Fo so long I understood this short but poignant part of scripture to mean that I was to be "perfect." It says it in simple English in verse 48! Oh how wrong I was. I cannot be perfect and it is vanity to try to do so now, on my own. I can, however, work to be perfect in love in this life. I can work to love my neighbors as Christ would love them and as my "...Father which is in heaven is perfect." I can rid myself of the paralyzing consequences of entitlement and love God, thereby loving his children; As such keeping my claim in Israel good.

I came away from Sunday School looking at covenant keeping in a much different perspective. It seems to change and shift relative to my circumstances in life. I can't just sit around and let faith lie dormant and expect God to rescue Israel. It is up to us to allow God to rescue Israel and up to me to secure my own salvation and exaltation. The opportunity is ours for the taking. "For if a man think himself to be something, when he is nothing, he decieveth himself... Be not deceived; God is not mocked: for whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap."

One last quotation and then I will let your eyes rest. This is JSH 1:59. Here the prophet recounts the receipt of the plates from Moroni. This passage was shown to me last fall on the drive to Idaho for a hunting trip. It has been with me since and when applied relative to our individual lives, will most likely be with anyone who is willing to do so. Verse 59 reads:

"...On the twenty-second day of September, one thousand eight hundred and twenty-seven, having gone as usual at the end of another year to the place where they were deposited, the same heavenly messenger delivered them up to me with this charge: that I should be responsible for them; that if I should let them go carelessly, or through any neglect of mine, I should be cut off; but that if I would use all my endeavors to preserve them, until he, the messenger, should call for them, they should be protected."

Consider the dire consequences of neglecting "them" or more personally, our covenants. Then, consider the glorious blessings for preserving them. Entitlement (be it omission or commission) in all of its many forms serves as an agent of lethargy to the human soul.

My thoughts feel a bit scrambled. There is a lot going on in this rather hollow noggin' of mine. I hope that I have made at least some sense. In short, we choose partnership in Israel by avoiding entitlement. We can avoid entitlement by love. What kind of love? Christ-like love for all of God's children, in particular our enemies. May God find it in his infinite wisdom to bless the world with such love through willing hands. Surely we need it now more than we ever have.

Unwritten Rules of a Man's World

Today was a fantastic day for me. I woke up at a brisk 7:30 this morning right out of a dead sleep. I wrote an email or two that I had been putting off for far too long, laid on my bed for a few minutes and then made a game plan; Cabelas, groceries, massage, dinner, home. So naturally I hit the road.

I threw on my faithful hoodie and fleece vest combination, cranked up the motor in my uni-sex sport utility vehicle and away I went. South bound on I-15 to Lehi in a February rain storm. I was headed for one of my favorite stores on either side of the Mississippi, Cabelas. So, I made the jaw clinching journey down the interstate driving along side what are some of the worst drivers on the map, in my humble and rather inexperienced opinion. Needless to say, I made it. I strolled through the doors of Cabelas in Lehi Utah with a grin on face comparable to that of a six year old opening a new Tonka toy for his birthday. That six year old knows two things for sure. First, he can move a whole lot of sand in the sandbox out back. Second, the tires on that thing are going to make one awesome streak up the middle of his sisters favorite barbie. So it is with boys. We are relatively simple creatures.

I grin for two reasons. First, I knew what I came for: a weatherproof backpack cover and food. Second, I knew everything else that I didn't come for but really wanted, was on the other side of the doors I was about to walk through. Let the games begin.

I wandered for some time today just looking at stuff (something that I can really only do in a place like Cabelas). Roughly thirty minutes into my adventure at the "World's Foremost Outfitter," I had to use the restroom. So, I took my elated self to the front of the store and strolled on into the men's room. There they were, a glistening row of urinals all to myself, with the exception of the dad coaching his young son who is clearly too short for the "big boy" potty. So, I find my way to a vacant urinal and begin my purpose there. Here enters my observation. Old guys obviously don't understand the unwritten rules of a men's bathroom (for length sake I will not discuss them all here). I am assuming in good faith that the dad coaching his pupil to my left will educate him on the proper selection of a urinal in the "Men's Room." To keep it simple, the only time it is permissible to approach a urinal that has adjacent urinals filled, is when there is no other option. If at all possible, you should never stand shoulder-to-shoulder in a men's bathroom while urinating. It just isn't right to be so close together. Need I say more?

Today at Cabelas, in a very short stay in the bathroom I was sandwiched, TWICE! As if it isn't bad enough to get the social bubble burst once in that setting, I got the double treatment. The place where the manliest of men are supposed to roam has led me to believe today that maybe we should have some tutorials on the rules of engagement in the Men's room. See if I ever pee at Cabelas again...

On a lighter note, I still love the place. Three hours later I had covered more than my intended list of awesomeness to see and walked away ready to go back. Do you think Cabelas would let me move in?

Goodnight, Gentleman. Choose your urinal wisely next time. You might end up on some strangers blog!

And So It Begins

Well, here is the inevitable. I am an official blogger as of tonight. As such I feel some subtle obligatory duty to explain myself with my new endeavor. Through tired eyes and the longing for sleep I will say this, I love to write. I haven't always felt this way about writing. In fact, writing is something I have developed a taste for over the course of high school and collegiate studies. I don't claim to be anything magnificent, I just simply claim to enjoy it. So, consequent to the desire to continue my writing since graduation from the University of Utah I am starting this blog. I can't necessarily dedicate this to a particular cause. I can however, lend the purpose of my blog to entertain a variety of ideas from religion, culture, politics, and the adventures of my life. Simply stated, I am looking forward to it.

Choosing the name for the blog was much more of an ordeal than I expected it to be. In a frantic outcry for help my lovely fiance came to the rescue (as usual) and walked me through a slew of potential ideas. Eventually, the conclusion came to "The Sandbox." For those of you who know me you probably realize that my approach to life is rather simple and straightforward. I generally see things in black and white (though I can acknowledge that they aren't always so). I know the hobbies I love. I hold my faith close to my heart. I have been fortunate in life to have friends who have really been just that, a friend. Last, but certainly not least, I have Kendra. I adore her. She is my best friend, my confidant, and my companion. Surely there will be much about her on this.

I decided to label the page "The Sandbox" because it is all of those things I just mentioned that make me who I am. They define me. That definition is rather simple, like a sandbox. There isn't much to it. Usually some type of wood frame and a huge pile of sand. Often times we pass it by and maybe even scoff a little at the thought of rolling around in a giant box of kitty-litter as a child. Think about what we learned there amidst all of those would-be cat droppings! We learned the most valuable lessons that life has to offer. We learned simplicity. We learned to share, to play nice, to hold hands, to forgive and that life is almost always better in two's.

I hope through the course of not only this blog, but also my life, to remember the lessons I learned in the sandbox. I plan to share the adventures that lie ahead of me and the things that motivate, inspire and move me along the way.

Until next time, ye bloggers. Until next time.