December 9th of 2013

Mom thanks for telling me you're proud of me. I don't know why this means so much to me.

It gets cold in Houston. Surprised? I was. The humidity makes it feel colder than it really is. I made sure we made a stop at Goodwill. We got some sweet leather jackets and for cheap. I'm a little proud of myself. Perhaps some humility is in order. The relief society also made us some awesome scarves and beanies. My scarf is a sweet white and green crocheted pattern. Very impressive. The beanie was a little less impressive so I gave it to Elder Pettyjohn who seemed overjoyed at the occasion. It was the least I could do. What can I say? I'm a nice guy.

Ober read the entire Book of Mormon before we even met him. He recited meaningful events in the Book of Mormon with ease. It was frankly impressive to see his overall knowledge of the book.

I hope our ward is treating the missionaries nice. Give them people to see. Invite others into our home. Give them some pie. Make sure they have people to teach. Work with the ward mission leader. Sometimes you will have to take risks. Maybe you're acquaintance will think you're weird for sending them over. Who cares? Ok I'm off my soap box.

I am sorry I must leave you now. But don't worry you will hear from me next week. I am ever your faithful servant. May your season be most merry.

With love, your favorite son

Michael jumped off Cliffs

So Michael's entry last year for Grandmama's book was about jumping off cliffs and his thoughts about leaders and what he felt etc.  I can't find that one either, it is very frustrating!  So here is the picture - imagine away!

Matthew's written story for Grandmama Sorry

This is really weird, but I can't find the email with the story I printed up for Grandmama last year, just the personal statement for medical school he gave me this year - the same though revised version.  But last year what I printed out was a really cool story about being in with an emergency crew and their desire for him to stay out of their way in the crisis, and he ended up translating for carload of people who spoke Spanish whom had been t-boned by another car.  It was a really great story as only he could tell it.  When I someday run across it again, I'll put it up here.

Where I Belong Rachel

Where I Belong

            I can feel the sand sticking to my skin as I burrow my feet in its small dunes.  The heat penetrates my tender feet. A breeze ruffles by, tickling my face and breathing on my legs.  I look ahead; my eyes take in the beauty of the rolling blue/green waves, capped with white suds.  I close my eyes and breathe deeply.  A fresh sea salt smell fills my nose, mixed with the smell of a barbeque from a condo nearby.  The sun beats down mercilessly on my sun-screened bathed face and arms.  I slip my green shades on my head and the world goes dark, but I can still hear the ocean, and feel the sun, and smell the barbeque next door.  I flip out my towel before me and lie on my stomach.  My eyes droop lazily and I watch an intense game of volleyball to my right.  I loose the battle with my eyelids as sleep pulls me to another world.  The roaring of the ocean becomes a gentle humming sound and the hot sun becomes an enveloping blanket that surrounds me.

            When I awaken later my warm blanket is gone.  The sun has turned an orange-ish red hue and is melting into the sky.  I watch as the ball of fire touches the dark water in the distance.  It casts a beautiful light a across the ocean.  Then, it slips further and further down and is gone.  An evening chill arises and raises goose bumps on my flesh.  I pull a sweater out and lift it over my sunburned skin.  However, the cold slips under my sweater and runs an icy finger down my back.  Someone walks on my grave and I shiver.  I pick up my towel and walk back toward my condo.  The sand feels cool and fine under my feet.  It is a refreshing feeling after the unpleasant touch of burning sand earlier.

            Something flashes in my peripheral vision.  I turn and see a light.  It is a bonfire.  The flames lick the wood hungrily and shoot up into the fast approaching darkness.  I decide to stay.

            Darkness appears as quickly as light left.  It is cold but the fire feels good on my hands.  The moon peeks through the black sky and stars twinkle nervously.  The longer I stay the blacker the sky gets, and brighter the stars and moon become.  The wink at me, the stars.  I smile back.  The night is beautiful and so vastly different from the day.  The sun controls the day but shadows hang around.  But the darkness owns the night while light slips through the black curtain shrouding the world.  I inhale the smell of sea salt and brine.  This is where I belong, with my toes burrowing in the sand and my nose drinking in the mingling smells.  I belong out on the coast, with the sea wind running through my hair.

Rachel Adams                     November 2012

Nate's writings are already on the Blog

 Nate wrote for Grandmama last year and this and both enteries are on this blog; one is "Slacks of Angels" posted on August 4, 2012 http://jefflarnkammr.blogspot.com/2012/08/slacks-of-angels_4.html 

  And this years Grandmama entry is; "Citius Altius Fortius" http://jefflarnkammr.blogspot.com/2013/06/citius-altius-fortius.html 

posted just a few days after the birth of his son.

Dreams Rebekah

Dreams

I don't dream too much. Well, I don't think I do. I've heard that people over the age of ten dream four to six times per night. I couldn't tell you if this is true or not, but for me, I certainly don't remember having four to six dreams in the past six months let alone in one night. Whenever the subject of dreams comes up, invariably someone mentions the meaning behind dreams and then the conversation shifts to the retelling of past dreams, each more wild and strange than the last with all participants prescribing meaning to various parts of the dreams. I've heard adamant belief that all dreams have meaning and some type of knowledge to impart to the dreamer, while others simply enjoy sharing remembered dreams as passing entertainment. If pressed, I'd probably render the opinion that some dreams have meaning to some people, and other dreams are your psyche sorting through thoughts and stimuli from the day. I can't ever remember having a dream that led to greater personal insight or led me to some 'ah ha' moment, but on the flip side, I do know that I am the product of a dream. My dad, before he was my dad, dreamed a dream. He and his then fiance were deciding on a date to be married, April or August. When he woke from the dream that he dreamed, my (almost) dad came away with a knowing that if he did not marry in April, his first child would not be born to him. They married in April and here I am. 

Though the dreams I do remember have no discernible meaning or purpose to me, sharing dreams is fun. My best friend and I  share our dreams when remembered and we usually have a good laugh, sometimes try to find an absurd meaning, and then we laugh some more. 

I found myself sharing a sort of waking dream/fantasy/daydream with my family the other night at dinner. No particular reason did I feel that any of my family members needed to know anything about this particular dream/fantasy. It just sort of fell out of my mouth, during a lull in conversation. I got a good laugh, so here I am, sharing it again, for no particular reason. 

Here is my dream:

I won ten 2013 Super Bowl tickets to the San Francisco 49ers and Baltimore Ravens game from Visa (because Visa is cool like that.) I invited my best friend, Jennie and her husband Peter. I then posted an announcement on Facebook (the online social networking tool where I am connected to 400+ individuals that I know through college, mission, church, and other.) The announcement I posted to my 400+ connections was something like "I have won 10 tickets to the Super Bowl to be held in New Orleans Feb 3rd. There are 7 available tickets. You may submit proposals to me if you are interested in attending. Decisions to award tickets will be based partially on spiffy proposals and partially on how much I like you. You may email, mail, or post your proposal. Ready, go!)  

On game day, I was interviewed by a reporter with a Visa rep in attendance. The reporter asked who I had invited, and I explained that I had invited my best friend. I joked that it was funny, and (perhaps ironic?) that my best friend is from Maryland, and that I am from the Bay Area. The reporter asked who we were each rooting for, and I explained my adamant support of the 49ers and that Jennie would be rooting for the Ravens. I had a half smile when I finished my thought, that we would see if we were still friends after the game. 

That's it. That's my dream. I should add that because I really like my grandma, she would be a shoe-in for the game.  

The Zone

In a sporting contest one must get "in-the-zone" to succeed. In basketball for example many of my teammates would have their own strange way of preparing for the game. Some would stroll into the locker room with giant earphones on. Ironically, they often covered only one ear. Their pants in a similar fashion often covered half of what they were made for. But this is what got them going. For them this made the difference between a good game and a bad one.

Let's examine Michael Jordan for example. You could tell by taking one look into his eyes that he was ready to play-- ready to do anything to win. He carefully honed his skills each practice so when it came to game time he was all in.

I do not want to compare missionary work with a silly thing like basketball but I am forced to see the parallel. It is so important to get "in-the-zone". We study every morning and prayerfully begin each day. If we don't we risk missing the basket, dropping the fly ball, or whatever other cliché comment you would like to add here. You have to be sharp as a missionary or life will pass you by. Sometimes you get knocked off your "mojo". But you get back up and try again.

You fight the good fight of faith!

"Therefore, dearly beloved brethren, let us cheerfully do all things that lie in our power; and then may we stand still, with the utmost assurance, to see the salvation of God, and for his arm to be revealed"! (D&C 123:17).

It's the fourth quarter and it is time to step it up.

 

Eternal life is knowing God, and Jesus Christ (John 17:3). How can we know Him if we don't at least taste what He did. He grew up for 30 years living the Law of Moses. That sounds like 30 years too many for me. But He understood the importance of the Aaronic priesthood in preparing the way for a richer way of life. Mission rules give us a taste of that law. It keeps us in the way. And by no means did He abandon His heritage after the law was fulfilled. He understood the importance of the lower law with the higher law. He made sure he kept Aaronic priesthood ordinances such as the sacrament to cleanse His children continually. But the higher law demands more from us. It demands our very thoughts. It ultimately demands perfection-- which He demonstrated.

As we accept and live the principles and ordinances of the gospel we will eventually understand who Christ is and what He has done for us. And in so doing we will come to know Him and want to stay with Him. We will partake of His greatest gift.

 

I hope thanksgiving was a delight. Sounds like it was. It was for me. I ate as much as I could. We also got to take half a Turkey home. That is always good news.

 

Take care now, love you