An Unexpected Calling

After priesthood meeting today, I found Ben in need of some assistance.  I’ve been teaching classes about the Aaronic Priesthood to recent convert brethren at the bishop’s request.  I’ve very much enjoyed these classes because of the questions I’ve been asked and the fact that I have to keep on my toes with the Spirit to guide me.  Because of these questions (and because I’m me), I’m notorious for ending class close to the beginning of Sunday school.  It was Jen’s turn to teach today, so when I found Ben needing help with his situation, I figured Jennifer could get started on her own while I helped him.  Imagine my surprise when I finally walked into Gospel Principles class about 5 or so minutes late and watched Jen immediately hand her notes and lesson manual to one of the Elders.  She said, “Chris, Brother Carr is here from the Stake and he wants to talk to us.”  An older brother waved his hand at me.  As we found an empty classroom (not an easy thing to do with four wards sharing the same building), Bishop Allen came down the hallway and followed us into the room.

Brother Carr turned to Jen and told her he had come on assignment from our stake president to extend to her the calling of early morning seminary teacher!  Jen’s eyes got wide, “Oh, my,” she said.  I could tell she was shocked by the call and had some immediate trepidation, but she accepted the call.  She then turned to bishop and asked, “What about my ward callings?  Will I have to give them up?”  Presently she is a ward missionary with me and is also called as ward family history consultant.  Bishop and Brother Carr told her that she would need to let go of at least one of them, but if she felt she could continue with the other, that would be fine.  She replied, “Then I’d like to keep my ward missionary calling.”  They told her if she began to feel overwhelmed at any point during the school year, it would then be best to be released from her other ward calling, but she feels certain she’ll be okay.

She is excited and I’m excited for her.  I loved the four years I spent as an early morning seminary teacher and I know she will have great experiences as she studies and plans her lessons.  She will be teaching Isaac’s class of freshmen and sophomores.  The Doctrine and Covenants and Church history is the topic for this year.  This should be fun because of our vacation last year with our visits to Church history sites.  Those experiences may help bring these lessons more to life for her and her students.  I know this is a great calling for her to have and it will bring the scriptures even more to life for her—the calling definitely did for me. J

A Difficult Decision

Chekov and the boys

Over 7 years ago, we brought a new kitten into our home.  When Jennifer and I first began seriously dating, I had two cats named Chekov and Sulu (the way they prowled the house somehow reminded me of the navigator and helmsman of the original Enterprise crew).  Several years after moving into our new home, we had to put Sulu down when she developed a brain tumor.  At the time, Chekov was getting old in cat years, but still kept chugging along.  Eventually, Jennifer wanted a new kitten.  I figured Chekov was too old to care (and I was right), so Jen went with the boys to a local pet store and Kira entered our life.  About two years after her addition, we had a friend who was moving to an apartment complex that wouldn’t accept animals.  We decided to take in her cat, Pumpkin.  Six months later, Chekov became too old and arthritic to take care of himself and, with heavy hearts, Jen and I took him to a vet to have him put down.  With the loss of our other original cat, our luck with these furry creatures hasn’t gone too well.

Kira & Pumpkin

Pumpkin lasted for a year and a half.  She wasn’t accepted by Kira very well.  Once Checkov was gone, Kira concluded she was the queen of the house and made sure Pumpkin knew it.  The culmination of her sudden domination happened one night as I was falling asleep and heard Pumpkin let out a high-pitched screech.  I don’t know what Kira did, but it couldn’t have been good.  Not long afterward, Pumpkin ran out of the house one evening when the front door was accidentally left open as we brought in groceries.  No one noticed her escape before it was way too late to try and find her.  During this time of being the only cat, Kira began to develop an annoying habit of deliberately peeing in the house.  It started with a towel laid on the floor in the boy’s bathroom—not sure why or for what reason.  It would happen every several months or so, but the towel was easily washed and that was that.  Unfortunately, she also started peeing outside her box on occasion; more difficult to clean, but we dealt with this as well.

Jonesy as a kitten

Then, about a year and half ago, a young kitten made an appearance at our back door.  By the time I was told of his arrival, it was already too late to try to ignore the fact that he was there (Jen and the boys had given him milk) so we took him in and named him Jonesy.  At first I thought he was deliberately dumped into our backyard, but as time passed, I became more convinced he was a feral kitten who had wandered into our backyard—he exhibited traits that gave the impression he had never been a domestic cat.  In the end, that was probably part of his problem.  Kira wasn’t very accepting of Jonesy either.  At first, she whacked him across the face whenever he tried to get close and treated him roughly.  As Jonesy grew, however, the pecking order began to change.  When Kira attempted to bully him, he would chase her away, but then he’d leave her alone.  An uneasy truce developed between the two.  Over the last six months, Kira’s peeing behavior moved from the occasional time on the bathroom floor towel to more specific places in the house.  I’m no cat psychologist and I don’t know what to make of it, but for whatever her reasons she started peeing on Ben and Isaac’s beds.  The boys felt she was doing it to them because she didn’t like them.  We tried different tactics to stop her and they would work for a time, but as soon as we started to let our guard down, she’d do it again several weeks later.

In certain ways, Jonesy adapted to being a house cat, but in others, he didn’t.  He had a mean streak that began to get worse, strangely enough, after he was neutered.  It became worse after we took in a friend’s Chihuahua for a little over a week while she was on vacation.  As soon as Jonesy realized he could push the dog around, something in his personality changed and his meanness poked through even more.  His habit of chasing Kira around the house suddenly became more aggressive.  I suppose Kira’s uptick in peeing may have been caused by Jonesy’s actions.  At the same time, however, her behavior began long before Jonesy entered our home.  The final straw for me was when she peed on our bed (we’d already had to replace Isaac’s mattress; luckily not Ben's); for Jennifer, it was when she peed on her clothes as Jen was changing into her pajamas.    We agonized over what to do.  Each time we considered removing one cat over the other these learned tendencies from both outweighed the positives we could list.  Again, with heavy hearts and to save our home from total disaster, we took them both to a local animal shelter today.  Our hope was that the shelter would be able to try and place both of cats, but they told us Kira was too old; no one would adopt her.  This was a difficult reality for Jennifer to face; even more so when they suggested putting Kira down.  Reluctantly, we agreed.  Jonesy they would try to place, but they could give us no guarantees.

A rough day, to say the least.  Cats are my favorite animal.  I’ve had at least one cat continuously in my life for quite some time.  It’s strange to not see a furry friend wandering around somewhere in the house.  I don’t think I’ll be able to stand this situation for too long.  At the same time, I have certain conditions that will need to be achieved before I agree to more cats in the house.  At the moment, the goal is to clean up Kira’s messes and get back to some semblance of normalcy.  After that, we’ll see.

Ben’s Final Hospital Days

Mr. Chuckles & London

Here we are, three days later, and Ben is finally out of the hospital.  On Monday, after an email conversation with my sister Joanna, she rallied my family and those who were able pitched in and bought him a balloon bouquet and a bear.  Ben has received several balloon bouquets and one other bear during his stay.  This gift came at just the right time for Ben as he had been feeling down and frustrated on Monday.  When this gift was brought into his room, his spirits were lifted and he was very thankful, once again, at the thoughtfulness of family and friends.  He has now received two bears during his stay.  The one that arrived on Monday he named London because it reminds him of the city's skyline that he has seen in pictures.  The other he named Mr. Chuckles because of the smile on its face. J

 

On Tuesday, the surgeon removed the “drain” from Ben’s stomach.  He said he wasn’t too terribly concerned about the fact that Ben’s white blood cell count was still high (according to Jen, he said he’s sent patients home who were as high as 21).  While the surgeon was happy with Ben’s progress, in order for him to leave the hospital, Ben also needed to be signed off by the infectious disease doctor because of the quarantine aspect.  We’ve had to put on gloves and wear gowns when we’ve visited Ben for the last few days.  It’s been a pain, but if we don’t the staff would do a freak out dance.  The last thing the surgeon mentioned was to smuggle a pizza into the hospital for dinner that evening.  Jen said Ben’s eyes got really wide when the doctor said that.  Jen called in the order and I picked up Isaac and a bottle of Sprite and a bottle of lemonade when I came home from work.  Isaac and I then went to Costco to collect the pepperoni pizza.  A lot of people coveted the pizza as Isaac and I walked through the halls of the hospital on the way to Ben’s room.  We partied at Ben’s bed.

 

This morning, Jennifer called me at around 8:30 and said that Ben would be discharged later in the morning or early afternoon.  I guess the surgeon and two other doctors who have been monitoring him need to all sign off on it.  At some time between noon and 1 o’clock, the signature had been secured, the quarantine lifted, and Ben was on his way home.

 

I am very much relived.  When Jennifer started giving me reports that showed positive progress, I felt as though a huge weight had been taken off my shoulders.  There have been so many people (family, ward members, people at work) who have told me they are praying for Ben and others who have visited him during his hospital stay.  All of these thoughts and gestures have helped me to keep moving forward in the midst of this latest of Ben’s health problems.  I am grateful for both earthly and heavenly assistance to lift up Ben’s hands when they have hung down and to strengthen his feeble knees and to do the same for me and Jennifer and Isaac.  Now that he is home, we can focus on helping Ben recover from the surgery and to prepare him for the pain management program.

The Latest on Ben

A week has now passed since Ben was first admitted into the hospital.  One of the reasons he is still in the hospital six days after his operation, has to do with his white blood cell count.  It was coming down over the past several days.  Normal is between 4 and 10 (I don’t know if that’s a percentage or 4 to 10 white cells per something or other).  Ben was at 12 on Friday, but then spiked again for some reason.  When Jennifer arrived at the hospital this morning, she was told the white count was at 17.

This, however, was not the only problem.  The other thing Jennifer learned as she arrived was that Ben was under quarantine.  The nursing staff believed he may have a situation (I don’t remember the name of it) in which bad bacteria have developed in his intestines due to all the antibiotics pumped into his body since last Sunday.  According to Jennifer, the test the nurses gave him was conclusive in half the markers, but inconclusive in the other half, but they were going to be cautious.  I was getting ready to leave for ward council meeting when Jen called to give me this news.  I have to admit to being shell-shocked as I listened to her tell me these details over the phone.  My feelings were raw and very poignant at that moment and I need whoever is reading this to understand how I felt in order for the lesson I learned to be louder than these initial voices.  The thoughts that came to me said: Ben’s been blessed, prayed for, his name has been put in the temple (several temples, actually), and the youth of our ward are participating in a special fast for him today and this is the result?  I have been trying so hard not only over the past week, but over the past several months to try to keep Ben’s trials in perspective.  The most difficult thing to deal with during this time has been the feelings of powerlessness; feeling as if I could not do anything for my son.

Honestly, all sorts of things pounded through my head like stampeding cattle at that moment: 1) Ben wants to come home; we want him home, but he can’t come home; 2) the longer he stays in the hospital, the greater the bill when it’s all over because of the changes in health care; 3) I haven’t been able to spend any significant time with him in the hospital because I’ve used up so much vacation time already (I go stir-crazy whenever I’m in the hospital for longer than an hour, and Ben’s cabin fever is mine x 2400), making it difficult to concentrate on what I’m doing at work at times.  There might have been others, but these are the thoughts I remember.  I’ve tried to stay positive by positing reasons as to why Ben is going through these difficulties at this time.  This mental exercise has helped, but lately it’s getting harder to stay positive when it seems that no positive progress is being made.  Plus, Jennifer keeps mentioning some looming option that might happen if Ben doesn’t improve.  She keeps asking the doctors what the option is, but they refuse to talk about it (they’re trying to be positive as well, I guess).  Frankly, whatever this option might be and the fact they won’t talk about it scares me.

Bottom line: when Jen gave me the latest news about Ben this morning, I finally cracked.  After ward council ended, I asked my bishop for a blessing.  I knew all these negative feelings were being fed to me by the adversary.  Satan wants me to focus on all of the negative aspects of Ben’s situation; not to see the Lord’s hand in anything that is happening.  Since my father is in Wyoming and cannot give me such a blessing, I felt my local leader was the next best choice.  I’m grateful I asked.  The blessing helped.  After the blessing was completed, I felt better; I still feel better.

The truth is I haven’t been powerless to help Ben.  I mentioned last week about the blessing I was able to give him and how it affected him and helped him.  I’ve given Ben other priesthood blessings over the last several months and they have been very positive experiences.  Bishop’s blessing reminded me again that I know Father in Heaven loves me and my family.  He is concerned about us and He is watching over us.  Even though it seemed, at that moment, as if He wasn’t; to believe He is not is a lie Satan was using to bring me to despair.  Father loves me and my family; and our Elder Brother supports us in our trials through His atoning sacrifice.  In fact, to me, that is the essence of Jesus’ support of us.

I know there are many people who like the poem “Footprints” (my wife is one of them) with its message of Jesus carrying us through our trials.  I understand the comfort this poem has given many people over the years.  Nevertheless, the notion of Him taking us upon His back doesn’t work for me.  I do believe we are saved by the grace of Jesus “after all we can do” (2 Nephi 25:23), but how am I supposed to learn anything from my earthly trials if Jesus has hoisted me on His back and carried me through them?  We learn by doing.  If I am not able to walk on my own through the sand when life gets difficult, what will I learn from the experience?

No.  I subscribe to what Jesus revealed to the Prophet Joseph Smith as elders who had been sent to the eastern states on missions began to return and make reports of their labors: “for I will go before your face. I will be on your right hand and on your left, and my Spirit shall be in your hearts, and mine angels round about you, to bear you up” (D&C 84:88).  What this verse teaches me is Jesus will go before me to help clear the way, and will support me on my right and left to buoy me up during times of trial, but He will not completely exonerate me from using my own power to keep moving forward (like me being Ben’s “human cane,” I’ll help support his weight, but he still needs to walk).  Jesus also mentions “angels round about” us.  These angels may be heavenly support, but as Elder Jeffrey R. Holland testified, they may also be “family members on both sides of the veil, prophets and apostles, teachers, leaders, friends” (Ensign, May 2009, 88).  In my version of this poem, Jesus’ footprints would have been always in front and on the sides of the narrator and they would have been accompanied by hundreds of others surrounding those four initial footprints.

In spite of the negative feelings and the wondering “why,” I am still able to rely on my testimony of Heavenly Father and my Elder Brother to keep going.  I’m glad I asked for a blessing in order, once again, to see the contrast between Father and the adversary.  After the blessing, I am still able to smile and that has to stand for something. J

The Last Place I Expected to be Today

I am sitting in the lobby of a hospital writing this post on paper to be transcribed later.  My back is to the TV, but The Price Is Right is on and I can’t help glancing behind me every so often—wow, Drew Carey has lost a lot of weight since I saw him last!  Sorry, my mind is wandering a bit.  Hospitals are not my favorite place to be, but here I am nevertheless.  Moments ago, Ben was wheeled away by his nurse for pre-op.  Yesterday, he was diagnosed with appendicitis.  He is finally going in to have the offending internal organ surgically removed.  Ben was supposed to begin his eight-week pain management program today.  He and Jennifer would have been in Orange County right now.  I should be at work.  Instead, I’m sitting in a lobby chair while Jennifer runs a few errands and collects Isaac from the Graham’s house (they graciously let him stay the night with them while we tried to figure out what was going on here at the hospital).

 

Friedrich Nietzsche is credited with saying: “That which does not kill us makes us stronger.”  If this saying is true, Ben’s spirit has to look like the Hulk (not the green; just the muscles)!  As a father, I always thought (appropriately so) there was much I needed to teach my sons.  At the same time, however, I have also found there is much my sons have taught me.  I’ve mentioned a couple of those lessons here and here.  I’m grateful I’ve been humble enough to pay attention to their teaching moments over the last several months.  I am a much better man because of those lessons.

 

Ben was incredibly calm in the moments leading up to being wheeled away to the operating room.  He told me his composure had to do with the fact that a) this procedure needed to be completed, and b) the organ being removed isn’t important.  His second assessment made me smile because it echoes the “conventional wisdom” here on earth.  I’m not sure I fully subscribe to this notion.  I have a hard time believing Heavenly Father has given us this organ for no reason.  I guess I’ll have to wait until the resurrection to find out if my notion is correct; but I digress.  I also believe Ben was calmer because of the blessings he has received.

 

He started showing signs of sickness on July 4th.  We thought he had caught a 24 hour flu bug.  He seemed a little better Saturday morning,  but got progressively worse as the day continued.  By around 11 or so that night, I found him on his bedroom floor complaining of abdominal pain.  If I’d been thinking a little clearer, perhaps I would have remembered the stories told by other family members who had appendicitis and put two and two together.  This was not the case, however (should I find comfort in the fact that I'm consistently dense? J).  Fortunately, I at least had the presence of mind to ask Ben if he wanted a blessing; the answer was yes.

 

It’s interesting.  Since a time on my mission when I learned a very powerful lesson about giving blessings (maybe I’ll tell it in this forum one day), I have tried very hard to allow the Spirit to dictate the things I say in blessings.  I will also admit that since that experience, I’ve been a bit more gun-shy when it comes to giving blessings on the sick with oil.  Ask me for any other type of blessing, I have no problems, but I still am very careful about “oil blessings” on the sick and afflicted because I don’t want to do or say anything not in harmony with the Spirit or not in harmony with the will of Father in Heaven.  I’m getting better, after over 25 years, but the reticence is still there.  In this particular instance, instead of saying words normally associated with blessings on the sick, the words which came out of my mouth told Ben he would be protected and watched over and kept safe and he would be able to get to urgent care in the morning.

 

I didn’t say anything to anyone out loud at the time, but I will admit to being baffled by those words.  Why those promises in that fashion?  Jen took Ben to urgent care immediately Sunday morning.  By Sacrament meeting, she was able to get word to me of Ben’s condition and the fact that he had been moved from urgent care to the hospital.  At that moment, the words of the blessing made sense to me.  Once again, I was reminded of two things: 1) Father in Heaven is intimately concerned about His children, and 2) He knows so much more than I do (believe me, I consider this to be a very good thing).  I will finish writing this post when Ben’s surgery is finished.

 

* * *

 

It’s evening and I’m home now.  Jen is staying at the hospital for the night.  The surgery went well.  Turns out Ben’s appendix was perforated.  Some appendix gunk (for lack of a better word) leaked into his abdominal cavity.  The surgeon attached a “tap” into his stomach area to allow the gunk to drain out of his body—I guess he’ll have to deal with that for about a week.  Ben spiked a bit of a fever after coming out of surgery, but his temperature was subsiding when I left the hospital.  There will be some recovery to accomplish, but I’m confident he’ll be able to do it without any tremendous problems.  I am thankful all is relatively well.

Some Ironic Coincidences

Originally, I was going to title this post: "Some Interesting Ironies."  I then recalled "Weird Al" Yankovic's lyrical reminder that "irony is not coincidence."  This caused me to reassess my title choice and go with "Some Interesting Coincidences."  Now, after writing this post, stepping away from it for a while, and returning to it in preparation to foist it upon the world, I find I can't choose between the two.  What I'm about share appears to be dripping with coincidence rather than irony.  Still, I like both ideas. You'd think as an English major, I'd be able to automatically pick between the two.  Some of the blame for my waffling I will place on Alanis Morissette.  Ever since her song "Ironic" arrived on the radio airwaves, a great many people (me included, it seems) have lost all perspective of the word irony.  I like the song--always have.  In fact there are those who have tried to defend its irony.  In the end, however, I'm not sure any of the scenarios in the song are ironic, but to sing, "isn't that coincidental" does not a catchy tune make.  Let's be honest, pop songs are not the bastions of good grammar!  In Solomon fashion, I've decided to pay homage to both sides of the conundrum.  You may take your pick or chose both--it mattereth not to me. J

*You can come out of hiding; I'm stepping off my soapbox now!*

I didn't mention the following scenario during my vacation posts of our time with my sister Joanna because I didn't think it was relevant.  Now, however, something has happened to change my mind.

First, a background statement for anyone reading my blog or this post who is not a family member: several of my recent posts have made it clear that I'm from Cokeville, Wyoming.  Having said that, a little over 28 years ago (May 16, 1986), my hometown made the national news when a nut job named David Young and his wife, Doris, entered the elementary school with a homemade gasoline bomb and several guns and held the students, staff, and a few other adults (around 158 people) hostage in one of the 30' x 30' classrooms for several hours.  I won't go into details, but, miraculously, when the bomb was accidentally set off by Doris it did not explode as planned.  In the ensuing chaos, the only two people to die were the perpetrators.  Although some children and staff were injured, everyone else lived.  Two of my sisters (Joanna and Jaime) and one of my brothers (Jay) were numbered among the hostages.  I had entered the Missionary Training Center (MTC) 15 days previous and was completely unaware of what was going on that day until a message was relayed to me that evening.  Perhaps I will tell the story from my perspective in this venue one day, but today is not that day.

My reason for this background statement is to set up the fact that a director, T. C. Christensen (his most recent films are 17 Miracles and Ephraim's Rescue), is making a movie based on the events in Cokeville that day in 1986.  From what I understand, the feelings of the survivors range from very much for it, to somewhat optimistic, to very much against it.  The negative feelings may partially have something to do with the terrible TV movie made several years after the incident, (it's still difficult to wrap my head around John Boy Walton as David Young), but I'm probably being too simplistic.  Again, my reasoning for this post is not to discuss the pros or cons of the undertaking.  As far as I'm concerned, I have no voice in the debate since I was not in the room.

What brings me to this particular post has its origins in the fact that Joanna and her family visited the movie set the morning we were leaving Mom and Dad's house and driving to hers.  The production is using a school not far from her home to double as the Cokeville Elementary School.  Jaime alerted Joanna to the fact that the movie staff had invited survivors to come and watch or even participate in the film if they wished.  Joanna wasn't interested in participating, but after talking it over with Chad and her children, she decided she wanted to visit the set.  She told us about her experience later on that evening and she and Heather and I swapped stories of how the ordeal affected us.  This was a good experience for me because it gave me a perspective I hadn't had before (as you can image, the events of that day have never been a dinner table topic and are rarely broached) and allowed me to tell them what I went through the evening of the 16th when I learned of what had happened and into the next day because of the fact that I couldn't just pick up a phone and call home from the MTC.

Because of Joanna's experience, I've become more aware of the movie.  I have not been actively seeking for articles, but while perusing the Desert News website I came across this one.  What caught my attention first was the headline stating that Shawn Stevens was acting in the movie.  He looked familiar, but I couldn't quite place his face.  When I began reading the article, however, what jumped out at me was that Brother Stevens was the principle actor in "Our Heavenly Father's Plan".  As soon as that fact was established, the coincidences began rolling in fast and furious.  To begin, his role in the Cokeville movie will be his first acting role since he made Our Heavenly Father's Plan back in ... 1986.  The article goes on to relate that Stevens role is "the leader of the local religious congregation. The character is based on the man who served as bishop of the Cokeville Ward of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in 1986, but will not be denomination specific in the movie" (Deseret News article).  Okay, that's interesting for two reasons: 1) Cokeville had two wards by then, and 2) it's possible his character could be based on my bishop at the time; the odds are 50/50.  Finally, having used "Our Heavenly Father's Plan" quite a bit during my service as a full-time missionary, I became very familiar with the lines.  At the beginning of the film, several people are asked the question, "What is the purpose of life?"  One of the answers (found at 1:01 of the film) is given by a young man when he responds, "Life in general; in abstract?  I can't help but ask these questions."  This is where sub-title of my blog comes from.  I mentioned this in my very first post.

I don't believe in coincidences all that much anymore.  Don't misunderstand, I believe coincidence exists.  I've just narrowed the scope of my personal definition of coincidence because of the many examples of the non-coincidental hand of God in my life.  In this situation, there seems to be a weird circular thing going on with me and this actor.  I may be the only one who is fascinated by this connection (it wouldn't be the first time), but I couldn't let the news article pass without making some sort of comment.  I count myself in the optimistic side when thinking about the movie.  T.C. Christensen strikes me as the type of director who will be sensitive to the subject and not sensationalize it.  Taking these feelings into account, I will probably want to see the movie when it is released (if it shows up in theaters around here).  Maybe then I'll be ready to tell my own story about that day and document it as a post rather than just speaking it orally.  We'll see.