Day 358: The Candy Man

Today's photo was snapped by Jackson of me earlier tonight when he came by to pick up his weekly Super Blow Pop sucker:

See, he and I and his siblings have a deal. They come by my room for gum and candy on a regular basis - but only once a week, on Sundays after church, do they get a Super Blow Pop.

Giving out candy is one the few ways that I, as an uncle, have learned to score brownie points with the kids. If any of you out there have any additional suggestions, I'm all ears.

Day 289: Jackson's Soccer Medal

Jackson just completed his first season playing recreation soccer, and it was a very successful one. I didn't make it to most of the games, but from what I understand from his weekly reports, he regularly scored multiple goals in each game.

Following Saturday's final game on the schedule, he paraded around both his soccer jersey and his medal, which reads "Winner," that he was given.

He also wore it (the medal) to church yesterday.

Day 223: Software Wars - Episode II Mockumentary

We made this "mockumentary," recently uploaded to YouTube by Adam, during the fall of 2006. Hope you like it.

Day 183: Losing at "Life"

Today marked a couple of firsts for me. One of these was my first Sunday attending my new ward, the Woods Cross 4th Ward. My brother Dave is a ward clerk, and before it began, he had already arranged for my records to be read in during today's sacrament meeting.

Another first followed when I competed against Dave, Jenna, and Luke in my first match of the the board game Life in . . . oh, I'd have to say it had been at least 20 years since the last one. I didn't win, but it was fun to play, and it was entertaining to see the competitive side come out in the kids.

Incidentally, today's post, #183 of Project 366, marks the halfway point of both the year and of this photo-a-day project. Where has the year 2012 gone?

Day 169: Father's Day

Today marked my first Father's Day at my new abode, with Jana and the kids celebrating by creating this cardboard diorama for Mike:


I think he really appreciated it.

Kenna also went out of her way to wish me a Happy Father's Day, even though I don't yet have any kids. I guess it's the thought that counts.

I got to spend the rest of the day attending my new ward, the Oak Woods Ward, just down the street in Kaysville and enjoyed getting to meet several people, including the presidency of my elders quorum. Afterward, I dropped in on Dad and Mom to wish my own Dadoo a jolly holiday.

Day 52: The Life of a Prophet

Earlier today, I completed my latest read, which was (as you can see) George Albert Smith: Kind and Caring Christian, Prophet of God, by Elder Francis M. Gibbons.


I got started reading biographies of the Latter-day prophets about a year-and-a-half ago, when I was given President Monson's (at the time) new biography for my birthday, and I enjoyed it a great deal. Since then, I've read biographies of seven of the other 15 prophets of the Restoration, and I now have eight more to go to finish this project.

Reading Pres. Smith's book was a no-brainer right now, as we are studying his teachings in church twice each month. I learned a good deal about this good man from this biography, and I look forward to finishing the next one (which, incidentally, is Heber J. Grant).

One of These Things Is Not like the Other . . .

After a few months of ward hopping and wandering like a stranger in a strange land, I have finally come to a decision. I'm going back to the home ward. At least for now.

During the aforementioned time period, I spent several Sundays visiting two of Salt Lake's mid-singles wards. Joining one of these wards is one of two options I faced upon forcibly "graduating" from the Millstream Ward in May. I met some good people in both of these wards and enjoyed visiting them. However, in the end, I could not justify the 45-mile round-trip commute just to attend church, not to mention the additional commutes for going to FHEs, temple nights, firesides, etc. If I were to join a ward like that, I would want to be as involved as I could be. In addition, both of these wards are currently being overrun - think of ants at a picnic - by hundreds of other people who find themselves in the same boat as myself. It's just too many people, in my humble opinion. I have friends who have joined both of these wards, and I wish them the best; it's just not for me.

The other option left to my disposal, of course, was going to the home (family) ward where I reside. It was an option that became, for me, the lesser of two awkward choices. Sure, I'm an orange among a room full of apples - including some "apples" I went to school with who are, for example, now married and have four kids. But it's the best option. For now.


Anyway, as I prepare to climb down off of my soapbox, let me add one last thing: If there are any other mid-singles out there who happen to read this and who are not currently involved in the mid-singles Institute in Centerville, may I politely urge you to get involved? For me, it has been an excellent social supplement - providing FHEs, activities, firesides, etc. in addition to the Institute classes - with people in my own age range that I no longer get for three hours on Sundays. If you're worried about feeling out of place if you show up to any of the activities, please don't worry; the people I've met have been welcoming and friendly. If you're worried about not knowing anybody, well, you know me.

Just come one time, and if you have a horrible experience, then you can go back to staying home Wednesday nights, staring out the window and wishing Edward from Twilight would appear at your door and command you to elope with him. Because we all know that's gonna happen.

But you won't have a horrible time, because it's been great. Who knows? You might even meet some real people of the opposite gender. It's my personal guarantee.

Easter Rolls Around Again

Today marked my final Sunday as a member of the old Millstream Ward, and it was a memorable day for myself and for the 25-or-so others who will, likewise, be looking for a new place to hang our hats come next week. Bishop Lake delivered a fond farewell address to us in sacrament meeting, and I got to join with the ward choir for one final time in putting on the Easter program, singing “O Savior, Thou Who Wearest a Crown” and “He Is Not Here.”

Afterward, the Plowman clan also enjoyed another good family dinner together, following which the kids took part in the annual Easter egg hunt in the backyard.

Dallin, at age 11, has apparently now outgrown the tradition and is "too school for cool," though he did roam through the yard, joining 13-year-old Kylee in keeping tabs on all of the goings-on.

Those still young enough to take part in the fun, namely Jenna, McKenna, Luke, Jackson, and Kira, ran ragged collecting their spoils.

At the end of the hunt, some of the parents joined in to help assess the damage and to (presumably) help eat the candy.

Good times were had by all.

Decisions, Decisions

I am someone who struggles to make decisions, as I'm sure we all do at one time or another. Sometimes, even the basic ones cause me grief. To those who think that "it doesn't matter what you eat for breakfast," I might beg to differ. It would, for example, matter to me greatly if I were to do something stupid like, oh, say, ingest a gallon of lead paint to start off the day. (Kids: please don't try this at home.)

At any rate, my good stake president, Pres. Ralph Mabey, addressed this very subject of making decisions at the past week's stake conference. And I think it was the very thing I, and a lot of people in my age group, needed to hear. He gave me a lot to think about, and now I present what I learned from his message and/or my thoughts:

1) Making choices is a big part of what we're here for. A war in heaven was fought over the basic idea of having free agency.

2) Sometimes, our choices are not between what is right and what is wrong; they're between a path that is right and another that is also right. The thing is, it's our choice - that free agency thing. If we are seeking guidance and are onto a path that could be dangerous, then the Spirit will intervene and warn us accordingly.

3) "It's harder for the Lord to direct our steps if we're not taking any." -Elder D. Todd Christofferson

4) If we put off or avoid making decisions when opportunities present themselves, either (a) those opportunities can be lost or (b) the decisions will be made for us by a failure to act.

The third point, for one, makes me think of "The Simpsons" episode in which Homer is forced to go back to college to study basic nuclear physics. When he is reminded that he has put off studying for the big final exam, which is the next day, he announces his strategy: "I've been working on a plan. During the exam, I'll hide under some coats, and hope that somehow everything will work out."

I know some people who would never take this cowardly approach in the classroom but who often "hide under coats" in social, spiritual, or other situations. Truth be told, I've probably done more than my share of hiding under coats at decision-making times. And I've found that it leads only to regret and failure.


Conversely, there are good people, like Rebekah of the Book of Genesis, who were wise enough to see important opportunities when they came up and who took advantage of them. When Isaac's servant visited her, she wasn't too busy or too caught up in other, less-important things to water his camels, and if she had protested that she wasn't "looking for a relationship right now," as some people are wont to say, she would have forfeited the opportunity to become a mother to the nation of Israel.

Okay, so that's an extreme example - but I believe it teaches the principle well, and she is an example nonetheless. Rebekah's courage and dedication to service are why hers is among my favorite scripture stories.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to eat a bowl of Captain Crunch. Or Honey Nut Cheerios. Or pancakes.

Christmas Time Is Here

No fewer than 20 individuals, all told, gathered at the Plowman house to spend Christmas Eve together Friday night. Not all of those who attended are related to me by blood - a few are considered, for the moment, adopted/honorary Plowmans - but, as Charles Dickens wrote in Nicholas Nickleby: "Family need not be defined merely as though with whom we share blood, but as those for whom we would give our blood."

A fantastic dinner was followed by our annual family Christmas pageant, focusing on the Christmas stories in Luke 2 and 3 Nephi 1, which Biz took great care to organize. I was cast, for some reason, as a wise man (rim shot).

Among the other cast members participating were Jenna and Kira, two very cute angels; my fellow wise man, Dallin; and Luke, as a shepherd:



Some gifts were then exchanged - the rest were, presumably, opened the next morning, though I can vouch only for my parents and unmarried siblings - and I must say that watching my nieces and nephews open their presents has increasingly become my favorite part of the holiday. Jackson, in particular, was very pleased with his Sheriff Woody doll, which is a nice companion to his Buzz Lightyear toy. Kira was also pleasantly surprised to receive a Minnie Mouse doll.

The Christmas celebration continued Sunday at church, during which we sang multiple congregational hymns, including "Angels We Have Heard on High," "Away in a Manger," "Far, Far Away on Judea's Plains," "O Little Town of Bethlehem," and "Silent Night."

And so, yet another Christmas holiday has come and gone, but the spirit of Christmas need not depart, as long as we strive to keep it all year round, Scrooge style (something else Dickens would say).

And so, as Tiny Tim observed: "God bless us, everyone!"

Faith, Hope, and Charity . . . and Patience

Today's post amounts to not much more than a spiritual thought, but I felt like posting it regardless.

I've been thinking about patience over the past few days, given that yesterday's elders quorum lesson covered Pres. Dieter F. Uchtdorf's recent general conference address on the subject, and also because of a conversation I had Thursday with a good friend.

I wish I could claim the thought as my own, but I will make no pretense about doing so. What he shared with me is this:

Patience with God is faith;
Patience with yourself is hope;
Patience with others is charity.

Well, anyway, I thought it was good enough to share.

Be excellent to each other, and party on, dudes!

"The Least of These"

Over the last couple of weeks, I've been wearing a new hat: chauffeur.

It all began when I approached and greeted a member of my ward, who was sitting alone in sacrament meeting, with a hello.

Can you give me a ride Tuesday night? was his immediate response - not a hello or a hi in response.

It was not too terrible of an inconvenience to give him a ride that Tuesday night, but then he called me out of the blue the next week, needing two rides in one night - something for which I had to drop what I was doing and miss a significant portion of an activity I wished to be at the whole time.

My initial thought about my increasing chauffeur duties was, "No good deed goes unpunished." My friend didn't seem to want to talk to me when I tried to be friendly to him unless he needed another favor or another ride. But then I reflected on events some more, and my second thought was "the least of these," as in the scripture we all know so well from Matthew 25:40.


In fact, having spent a large portion of my day today editing a work document about autism - something I really did not know that much about until now - I have thought about my friend a lot and have become more and more convinced that he is also autistic and doesn't necessarily know any better (social skills wise) about behaving in certain settings.

Whatever my friend's real situation may be, I know this for sure: There are people out there - some of who are right across the street or next door, as an Area Authority Seventy said at a stake conference I attended a couple of years ago - whose hands hang low and who need our help if we will but look around for them. Whether it's a simple hello, a pat on the back, or a 10-minute ride across town, they crave our fellowship and our attention.

Happy Birthday, America

I don't know if you're aware of this or not, but America is now 234 years old.

Our family celebration of the holiday was mainly relegated to yesterday, seeing as how July 4 falls on a Sunday (today) this year. That being said, we continued a sort of new family tradition by going out to see a Pixar movie, Toy Story 3, at the Gateway (last year, it was Up). It was my second time seeing Toy Story 3, and I found myself laughing and enjoying it a lot - again.

Afterward, many of us went up to Mike and Jana's place for a BBQ and to shoot off fireworks with the kids. Dallin once again made it his priority to go around throwing snaps and smoke bombs at people’s feet, while the girls multi-tasked and threw fireworks while riding their bikes. Jackson, meanwhile, was preoccupied singing "Joy to the World" (yes, really).

Today actually being July 4, we had a patriotic-themed meeting of sorts at church, singing "America the Beautiful" and "The Star-Spangled Banner" to open and close the meeting, respectively.

Happy birthday, America.

A Message on Texting

Today at church, we heard a message from Bro. Wendell Moon, the first counselor in our bishopric.

Our bishopric is still relatively new, and so this was a great opportunity to learn a bit more about Bro. Moon. He shared many stories from his lifetime, including the tale of how he and Sis. Moon met. He also offered what, I think, was some wise counsel.

"I'd counsel you to do away with your texting," he said - and I know he said that because I copied down his exact words.

But what's so bad about texting? you say? My entire social life revolves around it, and I would literally dehydrate, shrivel up, and die right before your eyes if I couldn't send and/or receive at least 75 texts every day.

Granted, I believe that texting is good for a few things. For example, when I have to send out a message to the members of my family or to my Improv troupe, it certainly saves a great deal of time to send a group text than to call them individually. It's also a good thing to have when you're, say, in a work meeting and can't pick up the phone to talk to somebody.

In any other kind of setting, however, I really don't see texting as more of a "Plan B" choice of communication. The problem, I think, lies in that so many people use it as a "Plan A," if you catch my drift.

I think this was what Bro. Moon was getting at when he said that texting was bad. And it has nothing at all to do with texting while driving, which is both incredibly stupid and dangerous. It has to do with the fact that, as a society, many of us are losing the ability to communicate on a one-on-one basis.

When he was courting his wife, Bro. Moon said - now I'm paraphrasing - he spent many anxious moments, between dropping her off from a date and picking up her for the next one, looking forward to the next time he would see her. These days, he said, that's not enough for people, who are already texting each other on the way home from dates and in other, less-formal settings. In this sense - and in others - texting becomes such an impersonal means of communication, and it sort of spoils the anticipation of seeing someone in person (gasp!) on a regular basis.

Not to mention the fact that, at least for me, it takes me about 10 times as long to type a text message as to say what I often need to say to people. After all, I don't have one of those phones with a fold-out keypad. It has an app for making and receiving phone calls and maybe one or two other minor things.

But that's how we've been trained to be now. We have our cell phones, Twitter, and Facebook and - yes, I realize I'm posting this message on a blog. Maybe that's why it's so hard for us to be honest with each other. . . . I dunno.

If people text me, I'll still reply to them. But I would still rather hear their voices on the phone.

Rebekah and the Lionesses

Instead of going to our usual church meetings, we got to attend a stake conference of sorts today. It was broadcast from the Conference Center right to our very own church house.

Pres. Henry B. Erying, First Counselor in the First Presidency, presided and spoke. We also heard from Elder Robert D. Hales of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, Elder Ronald A. Rasband of the Presidency of the Seventy, and Relief Society President Julie B. Beck.

All were good messages, but I must say that Sis. Beck's talk, in particular, stood out to me. She had my attention at the use of the phrase "lionesses at the gate" - a metaphor (simile?) she used to describe what the role of the women of the Church ought to be. Another example that she used was that of Rebekah from the Bible. She spoke of the "millions of Rebekahs" who will influence the success and future of the Church by understanding what their roles are and by choosing to follow that path.

Well, I'm paraphrasing - but that's what I got out of it. I gotta say that Rebekah is one of my favorite women of the scriptures, and I love her example of service that is recounted in the book of Genesis. (Isaac was a very lucky man!) If there were a female equivalent of Captain Moroni, as far as the ideal mate for whom one can seek - this, at least, was the standard that people used to judge from in my mission field in Peru, and I know that many people use it here - then Rebekah has got to be it.

Something else that stood out to me was when Sister Beck spoke of the "nice-to-do things" of life. Though these things add variety and make things more interesting, "they are not the things that save." We all need to take a look at our priorities, in essence, and see that they're in the right place.

Today's meeting was actually the second time in the past four days that I got to hear Pres. Eyring speak. On Thursday night, I attended "A Celebration of Family History" at the Conference Center, at which he also delivered a message. The keynote speaker was author David McCullough (of John Adams and 1776 fame, among other notable works), who gave a rather inspirational talk about learning from history and the people who helped to write it. Interspersed throughout were favorite songs by the Mormon Tabernacle Choir and videos of Family History success stories.

Final note: I think "Rebekah and the Lionesses" would make a great name for a rock band, or at least possibly a lost children's cartoon from the '80s (I'm thinking "She-Ra" here).

In Memoriam

I don't have any smarmy comments today; I won't even post a picture. I just want to write a few words about a good friend of mine who died unexpectedly this past Sunday night.

On Sunday, I saw him at church. My brother sat next to him during elders quorum. He even passed the sacrament to the members of the congregation. And within just a few hours after that, he was gone.

At Monday night's FHE, the bishop broke the news to us. It hit me like a ton of bricks, for lack of a better term, and I have been trying to make sense of it throughout the week. I have asked myself the question "What could I have done to help my friend?" numerous times.

Depression is a dark, difficult, scary, painful, and bewildering thing. It's one of those things some people have to struggle with that, I think, will never be fully understood in this life. It affects not only those who suffer from it but their loved ones, as well. You can know how hard it is only if you or someone close to you goes through it personally, and I speak from experience. My friend fought this battle his entire life, which came to a close in this mortal sphere at the much-too-young age of (I believe) only 29.

My own struggle with depression has taught me some valuable lessons about life, and a few of these have resurfaced the past few days as I have reflected on the loss of my friend. Among them: Forget even the slightest inclination to judge, and leave it in the hands of God; He will make all things right in the end. Simply love others. Always give others the benefit of the doubt, for you've no idea what demons they fight against. The Atonement is available not just to sinners but to heal all of our wounds, no matter the size or the scope.

We miss you, Joe.

National Kiss a Mormon Day

Today was, according to many people, "National Kiss a Mormon Day." Or it might actually be tomorrow. There's some dispute on this matter, in fact.

On Facebook - which is never wrong, except for those occasions when it is - I was invited to attend and/or participate in this holiday, if that's what it can be called. Then, I had a handful of people comment on this fact and tell me that it is actually tomorrow, April 26.

Well, whenever "National Kiss a Mormon Day" is or actually may be, it was observed, in some small part, by myself and a handful of people I came in contact with:

- I was busy helping photocopy and fold the sacrament meeting program in the library at church this morning when a girl in my ward came up from behind me and kissed me on the cheek. She was immediately followed by another girl who did the same thing. Not to brag or anything, but neener, neener.

- Later in the day, at family dinner, I got another kiss on the cheek, courtesy of my niece.

Well, you won't find me complaining. Happy "Kiss a Mormon Day," everybody.

"In the Quiet Heart . . .

. . . is hidden sorrow that the eye can't see."

These words from the hymn "Lord, I Would Follow Thee" ran through my head earlier today as I sat listening to one of the sisters in my ward speak to the boys in elders quorum.

Yes, you read that correctly - a person of the female gender in elders quorum.

For today's lesson about home teaching, she had been invited to come and speak about the support and comfort that her home teachers have provided her over the past several months while she has been fighting an unjust dismissal and a sexual harassment suit that came about as a result of some unfortunate incidents that occurred at her workplace last year.

I sat in awe as I listened to her recount this story, mainly because this is an individual I have known for several years, and I previously had absolutely no idea that she was dealing with anything remotely close to these kinds of difficulties in her life.

"In the quiet heart is hidden sorrow that the eye can't see."

Isn't that the truth? Today's meeting was an important reminder to me that there are people all around us who are struggling with problems we cannot even fathom, and that's why it is so important that we treat others with kindness as much as we are capable of doing so.

Toothless People

Yesterday afternoon, one of my front teeth became loose and began to wobble and wiggle. Then, earlier today, the tooth simply fell out in my hand as I was brushing my teeth and getting ready for church.

As of tonight, this is how I now look:


To say that the ladies at church today found my smile irresistibly attractive would not only be an understatement; it would also be a lie!

Today's incident was just another one of the many problems I have had with this same tooth over the years. It originally chipped back when I was in the sixth grade and I attempted to run up the slide on the playground at recess; a classmate of mine slid right into me, knocking me off my feet and face forward into the slide. (Whether or not he did it on purpose was a source of controversy for the remainder of the school year.)

A few years later, the tooth chipped again when I bit into a sucker.

Good times, these. Can't wait to go to the dentist this week!

"Wars Not Make One Great"

At a recent fast and testimony meeting, a friend of mine came up to the pulpit to speak and mentioned that because he had not served a mission, he felt that he did not stand much of a chance of ever finding a girl who would want to marry him.

To that friend, I quote the immortal words of Yoda: "Wars not make one great."

But Jon, what does that have to do with serving a mission? you ask? I will explain what I mean.

When young Jedi Luke Skywalker meets Jedi master Yoda for the first time in the swamps of Dagobah in The Empire Strikes Back, he tells the little green Muppet - not knowing that he is already looking at Yoda - that he is looking for "a great warrior." Yoda replies, "Wars not make one great."


If we can apply that teaching to the real world, I would paraphrase Yoda's comments by saying that "missions not make one great."

Sure, missions help to build character, and they instill important principles that can guide you throughout the rest of your life - my mission, I feel, certainly did that for me. But just because someone served a mission, it does not automatically exalt that person nor make him Captain Moroni.

While I am on the subject, one of my mission companions comes to mind. He was an excellent teacher, a hard worker, and very dedicated at accomplishing the tasks he set out to perform. He also hated me.

There's no other word for it but hated. He criticized me constantly - often in front of other people or in public, he refused to talk to people he deemed "unworthy" of being taught, and he was otherwise mean, selfish, and a grade-A jerk. He was also openly rude to the members of our fledgling little branch. For 2½ months of serving with him, my life was a living hell. Needless to say, as a companionship we got very little accomplished during that time. The thing is, after serving with him for that length of time, I never did find out why he acted this way. Several months later, I came to find out that his behavior with every single one of his companions was essentially the same.

In a nutshell, some of the worst people I've ever known I encountered in the mission field. Conversely, some of the best people I've ever known did not serve missions.

I have often heard the saying that the "best two years" of one's life are spent in the mission field, but I do not believe that is true. I believe that perhaps the "best two years" of one's life may have been lived up to that point, but if we truly believe in eternal progression, then we should try to make the next year better, and the next, and so on.

Again, to my friend, I say, you're doing just fine.