Bound and Determined Not to Kill Them!

I am attempting to do something that has daunted me my entire life. Thus far, the road has been rough to be sure. But I want to keep trying. Others seem to have no problem in doing this. It seems simple enough.

What, you ask?

My goal is to not kill plants!  My goal is to successfully keep greenery green to enhance my life. My goal is to do something that scares me to death.

Growing up, I don't remember us having any indoor plants.  I don't remember my mother planting outside, but I do remember some flowers, and rhubarb. There were what she called "four o'clocks" scattered about the back yard, but they grew like weeds anyway. (I do remember gather seeds from them a couple of times.)  I remember geraniums, hyacinths, daffodils, peonies, hollyhocks, and a lilac bush, in the northwest part of the yard. There were some roses that occasionally grew along the chain link fence to the north.

But I was never shown the finer art of plant maintenance, such as how often to water or fertilize.

I have always loved flowers.  The bright yellow of a daffodil, the purple of a lilac bloom, the red of a rose, the pastels of hyacinths--they delight my eyes. And I have always been intoxicated by their fragrances, even though not all flowers have them.  I keep a couple of fragrant pink or red rose blooms in my office at work that I clip from the bushes near the entrance to the building, and when they dry up they retain their fragrance.  I keep a bunch on my desk.

When we lived in Mount Washington near downtown Los Angeles, I became acquainted with plumerias.  They are the fragrant and beautiful blooms that often adorn hawaiian leis.  As I would go on morning walks, one of my paths took me by a home that had a substantial plumeria bush in front, and when I first saw their beautiful whiteness with yellow in the center, and smelled their delicious fragrance, I was hooked.  The owner gave me a start in a pot, but it was stolen off our porch not long after.

There is a patch traingular patch of dirt between the access to the "downstairs," or rather, the room that accesses our heater and under our house here in Tujunga.  I decided to purchase a substantial plumeria bush from a plumeria grower a couple of summers ago, and planted it in the patch, which is right next to the white stucco outside of our home near our tankless water heater, and which faces west, getting warm or hot afternoon sun.

I have always like the strong smell of jasmine, and decided to plant a jasmine bush on a trellis in the same patch.

My report is that the plumeria seems to be doing rather well.  I try to remember to fertilize it every couple of weeks during the summer, and while it didn't start blooming this year until June, it has given me non-stop pleasure since then. I make it a point to enjoy their beauty and stick my nose deep into a blossom every day. The green leaves sometimes look a bit yellow, and I've wondered if I have been watering them too little.  

By the way, I was given a couple of non-white plumeria starts recently, and since there isn't much room in the aforementioned patch, and since we haven't decided what to do with the back yard (we are going to remove the old termite-infested apricot tree in the late fall), I decided to keep them in pots and put them facing a not-so-harsh morning sun near the entrance to our front door.

The jasmine sometimes blooms but some of its leaves always look brown, as if they've been burned by the hot soon, and I have wondered if it's just too hot for it there on the trellis next to the house.  Actually, it often looks sickly. Arrrgh!

We are members of the Huntington Botanical Gardens because of our love of plants and we regularly visit this beautiful place near Pasadena.  They had a plant sale the past spring and I decided to purchase some succulents (harder to kill) and plant them in another patch that abuts the garage in our back yard. So far, of the ten plants, seven seem to be holding their own, but the other three don't look so good.  I don't know whether they need less water or more water. 

At that same sale at the Huntington, I bought three other plants, two of which I planted in the front planter and which seem to be looking okay but not great. The third was a lovely exotic iris that I guess I killed within about a month from lack of water.  Arrrgh!  






Because I am an official "Japanophile" from having lived in Japan when we were first married, I have always been fascinated by bonsai plants.  My wife bought me a tiny one many years ago for my office, but because it was a juniper and needed to be outdoors and not indoors (which I didn't know at the time), it died not long after.

I've always loved enjoying their looks, their lines, their sheer beauty.  I decided earlier this year to study up on bonsai with the idea that I would buy one for my office.  I learned that there are inside and outside bonsai, and that I needed to purchase an inside one, which I did.  It is a golden gate ficus from China, and I seem to be giving it the right amount of water because it hasn't died yet.

Not long after, I did some research about area bonsai nurseries, and found one that had a large amount of outdoor bonsai near Pasadena.  I found two that spoke to me, a cotoneaster and a shimpaku juniper, and purchased them. Both of these were recommended for beginning bonsai enthusiasts because it's hard to hurt them. I was told that they should not get full sun so I placed them in the back yard, and began watering them twice a week, which I had been instructed to do.

A couple of months after purchasing them, they started looking sickly.  They always got their water twice a week but I didn't fertilize them.  I killed them! I decided that the summer afternoon sun of Tujunga was just too much for them to live on two waterings a week, and that their roots probably got cooked inside their decorative pots.  Arrrgh!  

It was hard to not feel a failure and not want to give up on my dream of having a number of bonsai plants.  After feeling bad for a month or so, I decided to look failure in the teeth and buy some more.  I committed to put them under the aforementioned apricot tree so that they would get no direct afternoon sunlight.

I purchased a beautiful juniper--quite stunning actually.  

I purchased another cotoneaster.  I am determined not to be a failure twice with these supposedly easy-to-maintain plants.  

I daringly purchased a fukien tea bonsai.

So that is my plant story as of July 2014.  I am determined to keep learning and not make too many more mistakes.  I would really like to eventually have a modest but beautifully landscaped yard with lovely flowers and bushes, and I would really like to have a collection of some eight to ten bonsai plants.  I hope to eventually learn how to make plants into bonsai plants.  For now, my goal is to not kill any more!

Paxman Family Reunion - July 2014 #2

Although we watched some movies at the reunion, and went swimming, not to mention the disc golf we played, the canoeing, watching 4th of July fireworks, and eating ourselves silly, the greatest thing about this reunion was the chance to reconnect.  It was a blessing to see three of my four children and five of my six grandchildren in one place.  It was wonderful to see my brother-in-law Rick and his wife Amy, and their son Scott and daughter Suzy.  It was great to see my sister-in-law Jill and her husband Richard Lin, and their sons Philip and his wife Carolina, and Timothy. And it is always a blessing to spend some time with my great wife, away from our day-to-day activities.

It was also a blessing for cousins to be able to hang out with other cousins, and aunts and uncles--from young to old.  This reunion gave us all the opportunity to spend time together that is so difficult to do since all of us aew literally spread across the country.  

Here are a few meaningful pictures (to me) of some people I love.  They made this reunion the wonderful time it was.  Thanks to Rick and Amy for hosting this shindig. 

Emily, Rick and Jill (and Richard Lin hidden)

BJ, Rebecca, and Cousin Scott

Sisters with Mustaches

BJ and Rebecca, together

Interestingly, I turned 60 on June 4th.  My sister-in-law Jill turned 60 eight days before me.  My other sister-in-law Amy turns 60 later in the summer. One from each of the three Paxman sibling marriages turns 60 this summer.

To celebrate, we had a dress up party, complete with a "60" pinyata (I couldn't to a tilde over the n) for the kids, party hats, and birthday cake. This party produced the first darling photo of the Johnson grandchildren at the other posting, plus the mustaches.

My wife had dug up some pictures of me from old scrapbooks at the request of my children.  The pics were compiled along with memories of their dad, and presented to me during the party.  I was pleased and touched by what they did.  

Happy Birthday to Me!

What a wonderful week! We made some preliminary plans for our next soiree in a couple of years.  I can't wait...!

Paxman Family Reunion - July 2014 #1

It is said that a picture is worth a thousand words.  So I want to give you a thick novel's worth of pictures from the Paxman Family Reunion which I attended from July 1 to July 8.  I will indicate when the pictures are NOT mine, otherwise, they are memories that I wanted to catch on film (and still had camera battery to take them!)  They will not be in chronological order; that is, when they happened during the week.  I hope you enjoy them!

The Adorable Johnson Kids!

It is less than a five-minute walk from the Paxman home in Saline, Michigan to a lake.  This body of water is a perfect place for all ages to have fun, and in the case of the reunion, to strengthen family ties.  I think everybody but Rick and Richard Lin got in on the action!

Elizabeth Jumping In Under Philip and Scott's Watchful Eyes

Good (Handsome) Father and Son-in-Law Adam with Lucy and Charlie?

Charlie Going Airborne into Uncle BJ's Arms

Uncle BJ Attacked by Eddie and Lucy

Isaac the Swimmer and Cousin Scott

Emily and Adam Alone Without the Kids!

Calm (in pain?) Amy Watching

Too Much Good Time for Charlie

Another activity that some of us enjoyed was playing "disc golf" or Frisbee golf, in which one attempts to throw a disc into a basket some 75-120 yards away in three tries. Some of the time is spent looking for errant discs.  I had played "disc golf" before, and got pretty good toward the end of the reunion. The next four pictures are not mine.

The Disc is Thrown Like Scott Here, or Like a Frisbee

"Where in the heck did that disc go?"

Yet another activity was canoeing for some eight miles down the Huron River. One picture is us on a bus to the launch point. Some people fell in the river; I didn't.  I finally got the hang of stopping us from hitting a limb or another canoe near the end. It was a lot of fun.  Didn't get too sunburned.

Elizabeth, Philip's Carolina, Em and Adam

I'm Behind Em Steering, Ha Ha!

We Spent a Lot of Time Socializing and Eating in the Kitchen

Always Good Food (Most Everybody Helped) and Smiles

On Losing and Loss

In 1969, a Swiss psychiatrist published a book called On Death and Dying.  Motivated by a lack of available curriculum about death and grieving available then, Elizabeth Kubler-Ross published this landmark book, in which is found her "Five Stages of Grief."  I first learned about the Five Stages of Grief while attending school to become a psychotherapist.  Since then, I have discussed them at length with a good number of my clients.  Not all of my clients have come to me because of a dying or dead loved one; only a handful have.  But quite a few clients come to me to essentially talk about what they didn't receive or are not receiving from their parents or spouse, or of a missed opportunity.  To me, this "passage" is a kind of death and needs to be mourned or grieved.

For example, if someone did not receive emotional connection from their father, and either he has passed away or if still alive he is unlikely to admit to a child that he did the best he could, or that he in fact connected with the child in some way,  There will likely be no resolution for the child, and that "loss" will continue to bother the child until he or she grieves the "loss."  As such, most people, young or old, have "lost" someone or something, never to have it again.

I believe along with the Dalai Lama that part of the success of one's life will be determined by how well we let go.  These Stages help one to let go.

The Five Stages of Grief are as follows, keeping in mind that they can occur in any order:

1)  Denial
2)  Anger
3)  Negotiation
4)  Depression
5)  Acceptance

To use the example above, as they might occur--in order, a woman may have thought through much of her childhood, teen years, and early 20s, her father was merely a stern man who did the best he could to raise her, but in reality, he was blinded by the barrenness of his own parents' upbringing and didn't have much to give to her. She never really got what she needed from him. - DENIAL

When she realized that her relationship with her spouse had been greatly influenced by the dysfunctional relationship with her dad, she became very angry with her father.  There may be more anger because he passed away a few years ago and she cannot ask him difficult questions. - ANGER

She then might wonder what it would have been like if only she had realized his impact on her life earlier when he was alive.  If only her mother wouldn't have needed to compensate for that loss of connection.  If she could only talk to him now, what would she say? - NEGOTIATION

The feelings of denial, anger and negotiation then distilled into a sadness and heaviness of heart.  She realized that she was left to pick up the pieces of her life and felt ill-equipped to do so.  Her relationship with her spouse and children began to suffer because she didn't feel like doing much of anything because she felt great sadness. - DEPRESSION

Finally, she realized that she was powerless to change her life.  She realized that she needed to move forward if only for the good of her family.  She accepted the facts of her life and moved on. - ACCEPTANCE

The Kubler-Ross Five Stages of Grief are really useful in the ways they can be used to help a person understand what is happening to them in the moment as they mourn their loss and feel their grief, whatever or whomever it was.

So as I left a doctor's office this afternoon having completed a hearing test, I realized that I have experienced some major hearing loss, and my hearing won't go back to the way it was.  I also realized that other physical processes of my body are likewise deteriorating, incident to my 60 years, and won't return to their youthful vigor.  I need to mourn my physical losses.

As I drove further, I realized that my kids are all grown up, three of them with their own children, and the "fathering" stage of my life is passed, and I am now in the "grandfathering" stage.  My "fathered" stage is way back in the rear view mirror.  I have already mourned the "fathered" stage of my life in the work I've done in the past on myself.  I've accepted that.  I need to more fully mourn the loss of missed parenting opportunities.

Still driving toward my office, I realized that the person that took everything heard over the various pulpits of my Church at face value has also gone away.  As I have been in this process, it feels as if I have removed a comfortable security blanket; that complete certitude is gone.  I need to mourn that transition because I can never go back to where I was.  The blanket was warm; but not really conducive to the path God has me traveling.

As I approached the parking structure of my office, I suddenly realized that I am in the process of feeling the loss of being completely accepted by some of my extended family.  I know that they still love and care deeply for me, but I am now different from them in their eyes, and I can't go back to being what they thought I was.  I need to mourn that loss.

In all of these transitional aspects of my life, I feel that I am no longer in denial.  I occasionally feel some anger, but it is minimal.  There is no negotiating to be done; I've never done much negotiating.  But there is occasionally some profound sadness and some hurt.  I do see acceptance on the horizon, but there needs to be more grieving, more processing.  I need to feel my feelings as I make this journey toward accepting these transitions.  However, to quote myself, sometimes "it's a rum go, guvnah!"

Old and New Friends

Sometimes events just happen like they were meant to.  I had one of those recently.  It had to do with renewing a very old friendship and making a new friend.  Somehow it felt orchestrated, choreographed.

It all started when I connected on Facebook with a school friend from West High School days.  Ray Tracey had been a Navajo exchange student from New Mexico at West.  He also attended BYU and while there had started acting.  He starred in some short movies and a full-length feature called Joe Panther.  He moved to the LA area trying to establish his acting career, and while there appeared in some TV shows and got a gig appearing on a TV show starring Robert Wagner and Stephanie Powers called Hart to Hart.  

He returned to New Mexico and once again became involved in making Indian jewelry that his grandfather had made.  His father, by the way, was a World War II a Code Talker trainer, those Navajos who communicated in a way that was never broken by Axis forces. 

Ray has been creating beautiful Indian jewelry for over 30 years.  One can see his wears at traceydesignsinc.com, and it was his jewelry business that brought him to Southern California, and specifically to Pasadena, to participate in a craft show.

I found out on Facebook about the Show and decided to go see him.  It didn't take long to find his booth, but for about a half hour, there were always people speaking with him.  I noticed a couple of older people that were speaking with him and had stayed for about ten minutes.  I realized that I couldn't continue to wait and so I sauntered up to the booth from an angle. "Bob Davis," he cried out.  "You haven't changed a bit.  I could have picked you out in a crowd."  

We chatted for a minute or so, renewing our friendship, and then he introduced me to two older people.  One was a man my age who looked familiar named David Stark, and the other was an 88-year old woman named Jane Withers.  I was told that their connection had been on the episode of Hart to Hart that they both had been participants, and that Jane and taken a liking to Ray.  She was there to see him, as I had done.

The four of us talked non-stop for about 45 amazing minutes.  Jane was full of stories about her career, but showed interest in both Ray and me, anxious to learn what Ray was up to, and to get to know me.  She commented that she liked my eyes and that they appeared to show that I was a "good person." 

Prior to my appearance, Jane and Ray had decided to go out to dinner the next day, but because she seemed taken with me, she invited me to attend as well, if it was okay with Ray, which it was.  I was speechless, but then recovered and said that I thought I could but needed to check with my wife. After I left, and after I had spoken with my wife, I phoned Ray and we finalized the date, and Ray thought that it was fine if my wife came. 

The dinner discussion was incredible!  Between Ray and I occasionally talking about old memories and our present lives while Jane talked with others, Jane modestly talked about her long life and the lives of many Hollywood notables and famous people whom she had come to know.  Among others she spoke of and told stories about:

W.C. Fields, Gregory Peck, Shirley Temple (with whom she had co-starred in "Bright Eyes)," James Dean, Jimmy Stewart, Rock Hudson, and President Franklin D. Roosevelt.

Her career started at age 2 1/2, in 1928, and had lasted into the 21st Century in which she did voice over work.  As a child actor, she was making $1000 per week in the 1930's, a lot of money back then, and with the concurring advice of her father, purchased five acres of land in Beverly Hills at the age of 9 1/2.  For people of my generation, she likely was best known as Josephine the Plumber in Comet Cleanser commercials in the 60s.  

We ate and talked at the dinner table for about two hours, and then it was time to go.  It just seemed providential to meet Jane Withers and reacquaint myself with Ray.  If I hadn't waited to speak with Ray, I likely never would have met Jane.  If I hadn't reconnected with Ray on Facebook, I never would have been able to renew our friendship.  Too many coincidences for them to be coincidences! 

Fear Not -- You are Mine!

Since my very first blog posting, my goal in writing and displaying my photography has been to process what I am thinking and feeling--what I am experiencing in this transitional part of my life. (RED IN TRANSITION) I have been doing that for three years, in anonymity. A good posting for me historically would get 25-30 views, many times fewer, but I kept on writing, because as I've written on my homepage, I blog because I need to blog.  

You see, I was raised as a shy, only child.  I am comfortable being alone, to this day.  I have lived most of my life in my head.  Put me in a setting of more than one or two other persons, I will likely be the one who listens and doesn't speak.  I must often force myself to interact, and I do so because I know I need to. 

If you knew me like I know me, you would know that since I have been keeping these blogs/journals, and since embarking on my career as a psychotherapist, I have gained more self-confidence to share myself.  I am talking more because I feel like I have something to say, and because I think that some few who are interested in me and what I have to say might want to get to know me better.  I have gained a voice.  Blogging allows this very shy 60 year-old to share his life, his heart, and his thoughts with people.  Facebook has allowed me to share those thoughts with a larger audience.

When I heard how my recent posting caused such great concern about my spiritual journey, I was amazed.  I wondered why what I had written had threatened people, particularly my extended family and my Stake President.  

As I processed my thoughts and listened to my feelings, I realized that although my loved ones love me and care for me, they had put me in a "box" of their own making.  Their "box" is what they think about the Church, what they think they know of me, and their own fears. But they don't know me and my inner-most thoughts, because they can't. Ultimately, they will think about me what they need to think about me.  I cannot control that.  But they don't really know me or my journey.  

My questioning of a few of my beliefs that I have had most of my life made everyone uncomfortable--especially many of those whom I love dearly.  I feel sad that because I chose to reveal my struggles to the world, I have been judged--lovingly, but judged nonetheless, because I'm outside their box.  I feel sad that they don't know me very well--and that was one of the main reasons for blogging.

One of my questioning issues is accepting 100% of what apostles and prophets say. Brigham Young said the following about inquiring for ourselves whether a Church leader is being led by God:

"I am fearful that this people have so much confidence in their leaders that they will not inquire for themselves of God whether they are led by Him.  I am fearful they settle down into a state of blind self-security, trusting their eternal destiny in the hands of their leaders with a reckless confidence that in itself would thwart the purposes of God in their salvation, and weaken the influence they could give to their leaders, did they know for themselves, by the revelations of Jesus, that they are led in the right way. Let every man know, themselves, whether their leaders are walking in the path the Lord dictates, or not."     Journal of Discourses 9:150

In the October 2013 General Conference of the Church, President Uchtdorf said there have been times when members or leaders in the Church had simply made mistakes. "There may have been things that were not in harmony with our values, principles or doctrine."  He said, "I suppose the Church would only be perfect if it were run by perfect beings.  God is perfect, and His doctrine is pure. (I could not agree more wholeheartedly!) But He works through us--His imperfect children--and imperfect people make mistakes."

My blogging is my way of expressing concerns and opinions, of questioning.  Yesterday, June 28, the First Presidency and the Quorum of the Twelve of the LDS Church issued a statement pertinent to what I believe I occasionally have been doing on my blog.  Part of it reads:  

"We understand that from time to time Church members will have questions about Church doctrine, history, or practice.  Members are always free to ask such questions and earnestly seek greater understanding."

They then express concern "for members who distance themselves from Church doctrine or practice and, by advocacy, encourage others to follow them."  I realize that some might believe that I do not know me, that I am distancing myself from Church doctrine, or that I am encouraging others to follow me, that they suppose they know where I am headed on my spiritual journey.  But they don't know me or my inner-most thoughts, because they can't.

"Simply asking questions has never constituted apostasy.  Apostasy is repeatedly acting in clear, open, and deliberate public opposition to the Church or its faithful leaders, or persisting, after receiving counsel, in teaching false doctrine."  I honestly believe that my questions and my opinions do not amount to "deliberate public opposition to the Church or its faithful leaders."  It is my way of questioning and processing.

If my sincere questioning or opinions threaten someone, that is not about me. It is about them and where they are.  I cannot cause anyone to lose faith.  If my words affect "tender sprouts" in the Gospel,  then they shouldn't read my blog. They should unfriend me on Facebook. They shouldn't follow me or put me on a pedestal.  The path I'm following is for nobody but me. 

There are some faithful LDS members who read my blog who appreciate the fact that even though I question, I remain faithful.  They like me have questions but they too remain faithful.  My blog gives them strength that they can remain faithful as well.  You likely don't hear people like them, perhaps sitting in the pew next to you, because they are afraid of being critically judged.  

At the risk of some few reading what I have published previously at another of my blogs, and losing people because this posting is real long, I'm going to share what I wrote on another blog on June 8, so that my loved ones can know me a little bit more than they do now.  I realize that it may not change what they think. All that I can do is write my truth, found below. It's up to them to look outside of their box they've put me in. 

Before I write about my profound and tender feelings, I wish to share information about the nature of two meetings that I had today, Sunday [the 8th], and a "meeting" I chose not to attend.  

Due to my great desire to become more acquainted with the LGBT world, and most importantly, with the LDS LGBT world, when I found out that this weekend there was going to be a so-called Gay Parade as part of Pride Week here in Los Angeles, I was very excited and enthusiastic to march in it.  I wanted to march with my fellow members of the Church who are LGBT, or who are Allies like me. 

When I originally found out about it, I thought there were no conflicts in my schedule.  I saw myself attending Sacrament Meeting, partaking of the emblems of the Sacrament, and then leaving for the Parade gathering place for my fellow LDS believers.  I anxiously looked forward to it, and even had a gay friend who would show me the ropes and make me feel at home.

A few days ago, though, I realized that I had volunteered to substitute teach the Gospel Principles class during the second hour.  This class is for investigators, newly baptized or reactivated members. The LDS Pride group would be meeting and then begin marching in the parade about that time.  I realized that I could not do both.  So guess which "meeting" I chose to attend?  Not the parade!

My Stake President texted me during the block of meetings and asked to meet with me after the block of meetings.  I suspected that he had read my posting and wanted to speak to me about it.  I knew once I had committed to this path that it might cause concern, especially from Church leadership, and wrote about it in one of my postings. I was right.  Is there doubt that I would go to meet with him and be challenged for my current spiritual journey?  There shouldn't be, because I went willingly.  He informed me that certain people who had been members of the Ward over which I had served as bishop were concerned about me.  I had heard the same thing from a beloved family member about  certain other family members when I was in Utah for my birthday this past week. 

In my mind and heart, my actions today displayed where I am and what is important to me.  I am still very much an LGBT Ally, especially of members or ex-members of the Church, and my feelings are not changing.  I believe that I can embrace both worlds and intend on doing so.  The balance of what I will write will be, for all intents and purposes, my testimony of the Church and the Restored Gospel.  My testimony is very important to me.

I have not known a time in my entire life when I did not have a testimony. From being the loudest singer in Primary and being "Relief Society Bobby" to bearing a testimony as a child at the pulpit, from serving a full-time mission to being married in the Temple, from attempting to raise my children within the Church to maintaining a current temple recommend my entire adult life, from being a YSA bishop to my current calling as a Ward Mission Leader and Vail Worker in the Los Angeles Temple, I have always had a testimony.

When my spiritual journey took me down this path of questioning what I had believed my whole life, my questioning was largely of myself, not of the Church or the Gospel.  I tried to explain in my "inflammatory" posting that I am still the devoted member I have always been and see myself continuing to be.  

In an attempt to help me understand my feelings today, my wife asked me what I would do if the Brethren suddenly came down hard on all non-absolute devotion to everything said by the apostles and prophets, and came down hard on all dissidents and questioning people within the Church. (I can't imagine them ever doing that!)  I responded that I would still hold fast to the Church.  Why?

The Spirit has borne witness to me, and I have seen power in the Holy Priesthood TOO MANY TIMES for me to deny what I have thought and felt.  I understand the doctrine of the Church TOO WELL to go elsewhere.  My belief in the nature of the Priesthood, of modern revelation, of the Book of Mormon, of the Plan of Salvation, of the saving ordinances of the temple, is TOO DEEP.  I've had a testimony of Joseph Smith for TOO LONG.  I have been and continue to be TOO HAPPY because of my relationship with God that I have found in His Church.

My Stake President told me that people with whom he has talked that left the Church have told him that "I didn't leave the Church; the Church left me," and that he is afraid that may occur with me.  The Church can't leave me!  It's like my stomach, my liver, my arm, my heart! How could I willingly rid myself of those body parts?  It's in my DNA!

The institutional Church gives me the opportunity to become more Christ-like.  Could I get that in another organization?  Perhaps, but why would I want to?  I believe that the Church is the vehicle that Christ has designated to best serve Him, not to say that He can't be served from outside the Church.  I am grateful for the many good things that the Church does, although I am always concerned that we need to focus on becoming like the Savior as we do good works.

Where else can I go to receive and renew ordinances that will allow me and mine to return to God's presence?  Where else can I go to weekly remind myself of His atoning sacrifice through the emblems of the Sacrament? Where else can I go to better understand the scriptures, particularly the Book of Mormon? (If you want, please read any and all of my 38 page, Arial Narrow, Book of Mormon Journal I kept for the entire year of 2013)  Where else can I find inspired leadership from apostles and prophets? Where else can I go to find the peace that the Restored Gospel brings to me? Where else can I go to better understand my Heavenly Father and my Savior, Jesus Christ?  

I sustain the apostles and prophets of the Church, even though some may believe I don't.  I sustain local leaders of the Church.  Even though I want to believe, I cannot, I will not, automatically accept everything they say because they are just men; they are fallible like I am.  If others want to believe everything that is said, that is their right.  But if I choose not to, be careful as you judge me. As I told my Stake President, I am open to be inspired by them and to be obedient to their counsel, and I will do so as the Spirit bears witness of its truthfulness.  Am I not entitled to personal revelation for myself?  Didn't the Prophet Joseph seek personal revelation for himself? If they are speaking His will, shouldn't the Spirit confirm it?

My prime relationship is not with them, but with my Heavenly Father and His Son, Jesus Christ.  I am attempting to exercise faith like Peter did when he willingly left the boat and walked on the water toward the Savior.  To the degree that the counsel of leaders helps improve that relationship, and almost all of it does, I will follow it.  Sadly, not all of it does, even though I wish it did.  My imperative is to listen to the Holy Ghost and to be worthy of its inspiration.  

As I stated in my "inflammatory" blog, I have never felt more contented.  I have never felt happier.  I have never felt more able to love, and love freely. I have never been less judgmental, which I perceive to be a good thing.  I have never felt more loved by Heavenly Father and the Savior, which has more to do with me than it does with Them, because Their love never wavers or changes.  I honestly feel that They accept me and my journey, and would go so far as to say that they placed me on my current path.

One of my very favorite scriptures is found in D&C 50:41-46.  This is how I feel.  I believe it is true about me.  

"Fear not, little children, for you are mine, and I have overcome the world, and you are of them that my Father hath given me."

"And none of them that my Father hath given me shall be lost."

"And the Father and I are one.  I am in the Father and the Father in me, and inasmuch as ye have received me, ye are in me and I in you."

"Wherefore, I am in your midst, and I am the good shepherd, and the stone of Israel, He that buildeth upon this rock shall never fail."

"And the day cometh that you shall hear my voice and see me and know that I am."

"Watch, therefore, that ye may be ready.  Even so, Amen."

I am in Him, and He is in me. While others do not know me, He does know me!

My 60th Birthday Surprise!

To my great delight, I was given a wonderful present for my birthday onJune 4th.  My wife had arranged for us to spend about 24 hours in Salt Lake City, and while there, we would have a party at ou, just east of downtown, with friends and family.

We woke up early on the 4th and flew out of Bob Hope Airport in Burbank.  Upon arrival, we were picked up by my wonderful sister-in-law, Janeen.  On our way to her home, we stopped by a Davis family favorite, Crown Burger, to buy and take with us some of their delicious specialty: the Crown Burger--a burger with pastrami.  Yum! 

We sat around their table and savored this delight along with some onion rings, and had a lively discussion about my recent blog posting.  We were then given the keys to Janeen's car, and left to embark on an excursion to the Westside, the area where I grew up, in honor of this my 60th birthday.

Because we had to pick something up downtown, I decided that we would start by visiting nearby West High School, my alma mater, that looked to be closed for summer recess.

It really looks in good shape.  There are buildings on its campus that are new, and from what I have heard, it is one of the leading high schools in the Salt Lake Valley.  I attended West between 1968 and 1971.  It was a memorable time of my life; a time of learning but also a time of socially evolving.  It was where I began dating, where my singing prowess began, where I began learning about myself.

Looking down on West and the area where I grew up on westside of Salt Lake City is Ensign Peak, shown here from the West Campus.  I hiked it a number of times, exploring it and ultimately summiting it.  It looks over the State Capitol building, which I would visit after summiting the Peak.  The Peak seemed so imposing in my memory, but in reality, it is rather modest, and now not far from homes.

A little over a mile west of West, on the other side of the railroad tracks, we drove by the location of my maternal grandfather's grocery store and meat market.  It was also where his family lived and where my mother was raised.  When I attended Jackson Junion High, a mere 200 yards from this structure, I would sometimes park my bike behind it, because at the time my sister and her new family lived in the little apartment adjacent to the store/residence.

Throughout my life, my mother would tell stories of her upbringing there with her 10 siblings.   It is located at the corner of 800 West and 300 North.  It lookes to be in decent shape for being as old as it is.  To me, it's

interesting that as buildings age, and others occupy them, the lives, the history, the stories of those who have occupied them are inevitably lost, hidden in the walls. But if walls could speak, particularly these walls, what stories they could tell!

We drove around that area, looking at the empty lot of where a home stood, the home to where I was brought from Holy Cross Hospital where I was born.  We looked at where Jackson Junior High, my junior high, once stood.  It likewise is gone, existing only in my memory.  We looked at the old 28th Ward building, which I was told was now a sober living residence and where a great-nephew of mine currently resides.  We looked at the home of my childhood friend, Richard Jacobsen, where I spent hours playing after school on my way home.

About a quarter mile, some three blocks from where my mother was raised, we parked the car and walked around the immediate area near my childhood home.  How small everything seemed!  The streets, the homes, the alley way, everything, had been so signficant, so large, in my memory. But I was small at the time, and now being of adult stature, everything is so small, so modest.  

We walked around, ultimately heading toward my childhood home built in 1953.  Its current occupants have lived there longer than I did, and they have kept it up and have made changes to suit them (like the fence in front).  Within the walls of this very modest brick home, my early life took place, and those memories are abundant and remarkable.  So many stories.  So many feelings.  So many hearts.

Returning to our car, we drove around other structures in the neighborhood.  My mind and heart were flooded with all of the stories and the images of bygone years.

One building in my neighborhood in which I spent countless hours and which is likewise filled with so many stories, is my church buidling. For within its walls, I first came to know my Savior, Jesus Christ. and was loved by good, salt-of the-earth people.  Now vacant it looks forlorn and overgrown by weeds and trees which are in need of trimming, with wood-covered windows.  What occured inside the walls will forever exist vibrantly in my memory.  The building will not be shabby,  but new and fresh and well-kept.  

After driving around the neighborhood and looking for scenes and evidences of my early years, we headed east toward Salt Lake Cemetary. I wanted and needed to pay respect and to honor the burial site of my parents.  Near them, a number of aunts and uncles are buried.  It is always a solemn time for me to visit a cemetary, but as I stood looking down at my parents' headstone, I once again realized that it was only where their bones lie.  Who they were, their essence or spirit, is not entombed there but exists in heavenly realms.  I believe that they continue existing there, that they are free from the shackles of mortality. I believe that they have perfect knowledge of their past and present existence.  I believe that whereever they are, they are concerned about me and love me dearly yet.

The cemetary is not far from Emigration Canyon.  So we jumped in the car and headed east toward the mountains.  Driving up the canyon I've drive so many times, we arrived at the cabin where I was greeted by a wonderful sign that my caring, loving brother had put up in my honor.  

Soon, family and friends arrived for the cookout and gathering.  It was just wonderful to see these important people in my life.  I am grateful for their love and care.  It was truly a blessing to be able to spend my 60th birthday with these beloved people.  Thank you, my sweet wife, for being so thoughtful, so caring, so loving.