What Can I Offer

As we approach another Christmas, my thoughts have turned toward the true meaning of Christmas.


Often I wonder what we offer our Savior... not only at this season, but what do we offer him throughout the entire year? I know that he says "thou shalt offer a sacrifice unto the Lord thy God in righteousness, even that of a broken heart and a contrite spirit."

I wonder about my own heart, is it still running free as a mustang on the prairie, or has my spirit been tamed...broken as you will, like a horse willing to come when his master beckons.

Am I willing to do what He asks of me, looking forward with faith, knowing that He would ask nothing of me that He wouldn't expect me to accomplish...not on my own, but with His help.

What more can I offer?

Has my gift to Him been sufficient?

I think back to the time when the widow gave her two mites and some thought that it was a paltry offering...until the Master stated that hers was more than the rest who gave much more, because she gave all she had.

Thinking back to last January when we narrowly escaped having a head-on collision...one that most likely would have taken our lives, I have come to realize His hand in the outcome. We came through the debris thrown in our path almost untouched. I know what I saw thrown into the air along with that cloud of dust. Without some intervention from some unseen power, we wouldn't have been so fortunate to continue this life.

I have come to the conclusion that there must still be something left in this life for me to accomplish. Perhaps it has something to do with my new calling, working with LDS Family Services in the addiction recovery program. Perhaps not to help others, but to help me to overcome pride and turn my heart, my life un to Christ without reservation.

Perhaps I have the opportunity to serve my family and friends by example, by word and love for another season.

I am grateful for our Savior. As we celebrate His birth, I personally celebrate his atonement, his redeeming sacrifice where he suffered for our sins and pain and worries and hurts, taking some of the burden from us. By doing so, he understands how we feel and he knows how to comfort us.

Might we, might I always be found in His service is my Christmas wish. This wish/gift I give to you.

T-bone

I received a call from a friend last week wanting me to do a little project for him. I drove up our street to 700 East and turned south which carried me to the heart of Draper. On that short drive, the memories came flooding back. Just past the tracks on the West side of the street is a red brick house. Across the street is a commercial building that has been renovated many times over the years. My dad had a friend named Jack who lived in the red house and would build houses on the lot across the street in front of the commercial building. He would build them on a bulk work of timbers so they could be moved. I remember working on some of them as I learned to be an electrician.


Sometime before I began working with my father, he had been working on a project with Jack. While there, a big dog ran up to Jack and bit him on the leg, causing a severe injury. My dad had a bottle of iodine that he poured into the wound to keep the infection away. As Jack squirmed with pain both from the bite and the iodine, my dad told Jack that the dog had mistaken him for a t-bone stake.

Interesting enough, my dad started calling Jack T-bone. The name stuck and I think others called him that too. At any rate, we all knew who T-bone was.

Jack liked to smoke, and smoked a lot. After many years of doing so, his body rebelled. He came down with a severe case of emphysema.

I liked T-bone. In some ways he reminded me of my grandfather. He was gray and old and was always friendly and kind to me.

The last time I saw him was when I was working on a little house on the lot in Draper. I was in my early teens and T-bone came over to see how the work was going. He was now too old to do any of the work. I remember that the trek across the little road that 700 East was back then, was exhausting for him. He hardly had enough breath to get there, and had to rest before going back home.

It wasn't long after that, that T-bone passed away.

Payback

I remember as a kid, in the fall, we would rake the leaves from the giant silver maple trees around our yard into a big pile.  It was always fun to play in those fluffy mountains, jumping into them, running through them, riding our bikes through them and covering ourselves with them.  I never stopped to think that we probably tracked a lot into the house and our mother, patient as always, cleaned them up after us.  I don't remember it, but she probably chastised us for the mess.

After our fun was over, we would bring a large canvas tarp out, rake the leaves onto it and carry them out to the garden where they became mulch.  This was repeated until the lawn was cleared.

Down through the years, leaves became more of a chore.  As our children grew up and no longer cared about piles of leaves, someone (this means me) had to clean them up.  The lawns are easier than past years as we have a riding lawn mower that vacuums them up.

We have a tree next to the driveway.  Our driveway is long and collects all the leaves from one particular silver maple tree.  The mower doesn't do so well picking up the leaves from the driveway.  I learned about twenty years ago that if mother nature cooperates, this means the leaves falling at the proper time and if the South wind blows at the right time, I don't have to do a thing to clean up the leaves off the drive.  The leaves like waves of water float across the street and end up in the church parking lot, lawn and beyond.  Sometimes it happens, sometimes it doesn't which means I sometimes have to sweep up leaves from the drive.

This year was payback.  I watched as my leaves floated away a week or so ago.  I was satisfied that my drive was swept clean as a kitchen table.  When we get storms here, we usually have a South wind (which carried away my leaves), followed by a North wind immediately preceding the storm.  Today was storm day.  I watched as waves of leaves floated across the street into my driveway, lawns and beyond.  Not only did I get my own leaves back but all the leaves that came off the trees from the church and neighboring properties.

I'm not placing the blame on anyone, but perhaps there is someone in control that has a sense of humor.

I'm thinking that perhaps we'll get another South wind and send 'm all back again.

Or not.

The Journey

This story begins about thirty years ago. I was working as a journeyman electrician for my good friend and employer, Wilford, and had been doing so for quite a few years. I was the foreman on a fairly large project in downtown Salt Lake City and found satisfaction in the fact that the project was making money for the company.
One day while driving to work, as I was stopped waiting for a light to change, a thought forced its way into my head. It wasn't something I had been thinking about or otherwise been preparing for. Perhaps it was a spiritual prompting...something I have since determined was the case.
It was as if a voice spoke to me. It told me to get my master electrician license and my electrical contractor license. I had not planned to be a contractor and hadn't even planned on educating myself to be such. I hadn't studied for the master electrician license, but subsequently determined to do so.
After months of study, preparation and filling out forms, The time came for me to take the master electrician license. The preparation paid off as I passed the test. After the master license was acquired, then the state would let me take the contractor test. It was a long and difficult time of preparation. The test was given in a large room where they had people from many different contractor classifications...all taking their respective tests. I can't remember for sure, but If I remember it right, there was a time limit of 5 hours to take the test. I got so involved in my test and trying to get it done on time and correctly, that I didn't watch the clock. When I finished the test, I looked up and the only people left in the room were the proctor who administered the test and myself. I looked at the clock and had less than a half hour left. The person proctoring the test was also the person who checked the tests and graded them. He said that since no one else was there, he would tell me my grade...even though the state would send out the results sometime in the next two weeks. I passed!
Although I still worked for Wilford, I began to bid little jobs on the side and would do them in the evenings. I didn't bid the market or large jobs that Wilford was, so I wasn't taking work from him. Eventually, I started getting enough work that It was time for me to strike out on my own. I had to obtain insurance, Federal ID number and make sure that I had all my legal bases covered.
Wilford was understanding and to this day...we are still friends.
The market that I was in was wiring houses and small commercial buildings. It was in the early eighties, and for some, times were difficult. I didn't have any capital to work with, but it increased as I found and completed jobs. Nancy was understanding when we had to tighten our belts. Before too long, I had enough capital and work to have a couple of employees. This continued for a few years and then, when things got slow, I went back to work by myself. Some of the work was out of state, but eventually, I found some work at Hill AFB that lasted over 12 years.
It was around 1998 and I was still working at the AFB. I was still able to get jobs there, but for some reason, the bureaucracy was having a difficult time getting their paperwork processed in a timely manner. The contractor I was sub-contracting to, blamed it on the government office we worked through. When I went and asked them, they blamed it on the contractor. Long story-short, my payments were getting to me anywhere from three to five months after I completed a project.
As I pondered my situation, I thought that perhaps it was time for me to change my situation. Nan and I discussed it and prayed that we might know what to do. We made our decision and took it to the Lord.
There is a scripture in Doctrine and Covenants Section 9 verse 8 that says
”But, behold, I say unto you, that you must study it out in your mind; then you must ask me if it be right, and if it is right I will cause that your bosom shall burn within you; therefore, you shall feel that it is right."
Never before had I had such a strong feeling that what we had decided was the right decision. I was at peace.
Even though we didn't have work at the time, I felt good about pulling away from 12 years of job security that had sustained us while we raised our family.
Almost immediately, I began to find work and lots of it. I employed my son-in-law and others and continued to grow the business.
The current economic crisis blind-sided many contractors...myself included. The work I had procured sustained us for a period of time, but as the jobs were completed, I was unable to replace them with new work. So many people were bidding the projects so low...I couldn't compete. My overhead was low and I continued to lower my labor rates, but to no avail. Over a period of time I let all my employees go. Fortunately, they all were able to find other jobs.
Not wanting to close the doors, I continued to bid jobs at a lower rate and was able to find a few small jobs. These jobs I did by myself. If there was something I needed help with, I would hire someone for a day or an evening.
The factor I hadn't figured on was my health. Over the years, I had worn my body out along with other health issues. It wasn't so bad when I had some "medical procedure” when I had employees to cover for me. Now I was alone and it was an entire different situation.
I suffered through the last year with my knees getting worse all the time. I continued to work through the pain but was slow and worn out by day's end.
I let the work dwindle to nothing by the end of the year so I could get a knee replacement on one knee and the other knee repaired. These procedures happened the middle of February. I had money saved up to help us through this time, and it was used carefully. When It ran out, we only had what Nan was bringing in.
Now is where the water gets murky at times. I turned 62 in April and in May, we decided that I should take an early retirement. All this means is that I collect social security every month. I can still earn a small amount, so I kept my business open. Work is still scarce and hard to obtain, so the little jobs I'm doing don't amount to what I could earn under the social security cap.
I'm still recovering from the February surgeries. I still have pain, but for the most part, I just haven't recovered all my strength.
I keep busy with my yard, and what little work I have obtained.
I'm not too keen on the idea of being considered "elderly" but do enjoy the "senior discounts" that some places offer to people of my age.
I wasn't ready for the journey to take the turn that it has. Mostly because I'm not sure where it's headed and where it'll end. I only know that I have to be happy that I can do what I am able, and find joy in the doing of it.

Easter

Have you ever paddled a canoe? The guy in front paddles on one side while the person in back paddles on the other side...also the back person can use his paddle as a rudder to make corrections as needed to keep the canoe on course. Otherwise, the canoe would go in circles or zigzag across the water.

The other day while driving down Redwood Road, while waiting for a light to change, my view and mind focused on an individual. He was in the pedestrian lane crossing the six lanes of traffic at the intersection. This isn't the first time I have seen him, but his situation really tugged at my heart. I wondered that someone didn't get out of their car and help him...perhaps he doesn't want help.

The individual was in a wheel chair. Not a fancy motorized one, but one where you have to use your arms and hands to propel it forward. This man has only one arm that he can use. He would push the one side forward, then reach across his body and pull the other wheel forward. It's amazing that with all the little zigzags that he had to do to move forward, that he made it across those six lanes before the light changed.

My mind must have been in the Easter mode, because I was thinking about how Christ suffered death for all, and that resurrection is a gift for all mankind. I thought about how when we are resurrected we will have perfect bodies, free of the maladies that beset our mortal nature. Someday, the wheelchair guy will stand tall and walk instead of hunched over struggling to propel himself forward.

This Easter I am thankful for Jesus Christ...He is Risen.

The Old Church

A week ago, I did some work on a church building. This was an older building and it brought back some memories of the church building less than a block from where I grew up.

As I was working, I could hear the clanking of the steam pipes and radiators. It sounded like someone was in another part of the building with a hammer, banging on the pipes. The old building in cottonwood was much older than this building but I can still recall the old steam heat clanking and making a racket.

The old cottonwood building had a distinct personality. It had a long covered stairway to the foyer. This stairway had a steel banister in the middle which provided us with countless hours of entertainment sliding down it.

The foyer branched off to the left to the chapel, strait to the cultural hall which was that and more...It served as an overflow for the chapel and had a stage for cultural experiences...plays and such. If you went to the right from the foyer, there was a bishops and clerk's office and a couple of classrooms and some stairs that went to the lower level that had a primary room and class rooms that extended underneath all of the building.

Next to the bishops office was a small classroom that had a set of stairs that went to a small classroom kind of mid-way up the tower. From that class room there was also a steep set of stairs that went to an even smaller classroom at the top of the tower.

If you went through the cultural hall, there was a door that led to the stake offices. These offices occupied an area on the upper level and the lower level with a steep set of stairs connecting the two.

There was also a set of doors on the other side of the chapel. There was a small foyer that connected to the cultural hall and a set of stairs that led to a landing which took you outside...or to more stairs that went to the lower lever.

The lower level at this point had a drinking fountain. There, was also the restrooms and a sacrament prep. room. The hall jogged a little and met the hall and classrooms mentions above, and also had a hall that extended to classrooms underneath the chapel.

In all my growing up years, this unique old building still holds a place in my heart. I helped my dad wire the swamp coolers that were added to make the chapel more comfortable. (Before we had the coolers, they used to pass out the little fold up fans so we could fan ourselves, and then they would collect them at the end of the services)

Of course with the changing times, remodels and additions added a gym and other rooms. Then about forty years ago they demolished the old building but not the additions. They built an addition to the gym which included new classrooms and a new chapel and classrooms and offices all on one level.

These and countless other memories came to the forefront, just from hearing the sound of those steam pipes. Oh, the years are many and long...where have they gone.

Maxine

As I was stopped at a light on the way home from work, I noticed a man in sun glasses and with a white cane feeling his way down the sidewalk.

My thoughts turned to Maxine. I don't remember the first time I met Maxine, Only that she and her husband, Henry, were friends with my parents and lived close bye when I was young. Henry was a contractor and we did work for him from time to time.

Maxine lost her sight at least forty years ago. When they were aged, they moved to Riverton, only about a five minute drive away from where I live. Even though he was old, Henry built a new house on a small lot. The house was a one level space that Maxine could easily learn and walk and feel her way around in.

After a couple of years, Henry passed away and a couple of their granddaughters moved in with Maxine to help her with the tasks that we often take for granted.

It was at this time that I used to visit Maxine. We visited about a lot of things and as time went by, I learned that Maxine loved to do genealogy and used to research her ancestors. She explained that she could still picture her "family tree" in her mind, and that she longed to be able to do the research, but her blindness prevented her from doing so.

At the time, I was spending a lot of time doing research, and I offered to help her by spending part of my research time looking for her ancestors. She was grateful that I would do such a thing for her.

Maxine provided me with some names and dates and I was able to find some interesting things and many names of her ancestors. She had some ancestors in England that the family line ended...they had lost any leads for further research. I learned that the name of Scoffield actually evolved from an old English name of Scoffin. From some reading I had done, I learned that in the old English, fields and meadows were called fins. Because of this, I was able to extend the research a couple of generations.

When I had completed a goodly amount or research, I printed family group sheets and pedigree charts and inserted them in a binder along with a computer disk encompassing the work I had done. Her granddaughters could review what I had found with her. She was elated that I would do such a thing for her.

It wasn't long after that when I got a telephone call from the granddaughters...Maxine had suffered a heart attack and passed away.

I wonder what happened to the binder and the records I researched.

I felt to thank the Lord for her life and that she could now see again.

A Near Miss

My bride of nearly forty years, my son and I took a little trip to visit Jenny in Idaho. Nan had been there a couple of times in the last year, but it's been probably fifteen months since my last visit.

We all had a nice time visiting but needed to be home by Tuesday afternoon for Ben to attend a job interview. Since it's a three hour drive, we left after breakfast so we could be home before noon.

On our drive up, the roads were wet and it rained or sprinkled almost all of the way. We were a little surprised that even over the pass, it wasn't snowing. The drive home was even better...dry roads, partly cloudy skies and mild temperatures.

As we passed Willard, Ben and I both noticed a sign warning drivers that "driving drowsy can be deadly".

Three miles later a car traveling the opposite direction suddenly went out of control and was in the median coming directly at us on a collision course. At the freeway speeds of 75 MPH, having a "head on collision" would kill us all. I hit the brake in a last ditch effort to at least try to avoid the inevitable.

In less than a second before the collision, the car struck the wire cable barrier on our side of the median, not stopping it, but turning it down the median where it continued for a couple of hundred feet, breaking off 16 of posts but stopping it from going into oncoming traffic.

When the car hit the barrier, it's bumper and tons of debris from the car and barrier posts flew into the air in the same place as the car would have been without a barrier, and there we were.

For the life of me, I can't figure how some of the debris didn't come through the windshield and kill someone. We ran over something fairly large...perhaps one of the barrier posts. The noise was terribly loud.

I pulled off the road entirely on the grass and dirt, not wanting to be exposed to any traffic. I got out, looked the car over and couldn't believe my eyes. Over and again I looked and couldn't find a dent or scratch. Finally I discovered a broken piece of plastic below the front bumper. That was it!

Ben and I walked back to the other car to check on its occupants. Other drivers had also stopped to help. The driver side of the car was still against the barrier. The passenger stated that he thought the driver was having a heart attack. In less than five minutes, many emergency vehicles were arriving on the scene, the health of the other driver absorbing most of their attention.

After making sure we didn't sustain any injuries, a State Trooper helped me fill out an accident report for our damage and told us we could leave the scene. He informed me that the responding paramedics thought the other driver had suffered a stroke...possibly causing the accident. Looking at where we were and at the cable barrier, he said "it did what it was supposed to do". It literally saved our lives.

After we returned home, I took the car over to the body shop and they quoted the damage as a little less than five hundred dollars.

I believe in miracles.

Glowing

Some people besides my family know that I'm going to have a knee replaced. I wish there was some other alternative but I've tried about everything else.
The doctor who is going to do the surgery requires that I have an EKG to make sure my heart is working properly. I made the appointment at the hospital, got an EKG done and they sent the results to the surgeon. The people at the surgeons office called and said that the EKG was abnormal and I would need a cardiologist to give me clearance before I could get the knee done.
This last week, I went to the cardio clinic where they did another EKG. Then, to make sure I was OK, they had me come back the next day for a stress test. I've done a stress test on a treadmill before, but because of my knees, they did the stress part chemically. First they insert an IV after which they inject some radioactive material so they can take pictures of the heart. After an agonizing 16 minutes with my arms lifted above my head on a table, the pictures were done...not. Then they did the stress part. They put me on another table and assured me that the test was safe. Then they injected a radioactive isotope, whatever that is, into my IV. They said it would cause all the veins in my body to dilate at the same time. This would simulate the stress put on a body and heart similar to a hard workout. I'm not sure what it did, but I was sick...very much like I had overdone a workout by a long ways.
After a few minutes the effects wore off and I felt better. Then they took me back for more pictures of my heart. First on m back with my arms above my head again for another twelve minutes, then on my stomach for another eight minutes. They assured me I was OK and that they would send the results to the surgeon.
The next day, I still had a slight headache and my stomach was a little sick.
I was on the phone with my daughter Christine. I was explaining the whole procedure to her and that I didn't feel all that well. Then I told her about the side effect of the radioactive injection...that it made me glow in the dark.
The whole family is laughing...SHE BELIEVED ME!

Driveway Circus

My daughter received a call Saturday morning from a friend. This "fifty something" year old woman needed help changing a flat tire. Her car was in the driveway so she wasn't in traffic. Since she live in a secluded area of condo's...no one could see she needed help. After several attempts to reach her home teachers and some other men in her neighborhood, she called Les.
I'm not stating that Les can't change a tire...in fact, she did once several years ago.
Nan called to talk to Les and found out what she was up to. When I was made aware of the fact that Les was changing a tire, I knew she was imminent danger and asked directions so I could help. I also told her to make sure she put something under the other tires so the car wouldn't roll off the jack.
Fifteen minutes later I pulled up to the driveway behind flat tire car. By this time, two other men had also found their way there. One had a small floor jack that he used to replace Les' Jack...she couldn't find the one in flat tire car so she used her own.
Les had loosened the lug nuts and jacked the car up. This man stated that he used to rotate his own tires, so the floor jack was easy to use. He also had a four way lug wrench so he didn't need the one from flat tire car.
I figured I should do something useful since I was already on the scene. I pulled the donut spare out of the trunk and thought it felt kinda soft. I gave it to floor jack man who put it on the car, released the floor jack and watched the rim settle to the concrete driveway.
Everyone stood there looking at each other. Les pulled the spare from her car and said, here use mine...unfortunately it didn't fit. I suggested we take the donut tire to the gas station a block away and fill it up. They removed the donut, I took it to the station and filled it, took it back, it was placed on the car so the woman could drive to the tire store to repair her flat. I told her the tire store would put it back on the car for her.
All the tools gathered up...no one could find flat tire cars lug wrench. It was at this time that they decided to gather up the things they put behind the tires to keep the car from rolling. I'm still laughing at what they used. On the one side they had placed a black bag containing a bowling ball an bowling shoes. On the other side they has placed a twelve pack of soda. (who knows, perhaps they might have slowed it down had flat tire car started to roll.)
All said and done, we decided to follow Les to her house. At the first corner where she had to stop, we watches something slide off the front of her car...It was the missing lug wrench. It was black and had been placed on the hood of her black car.
What's that saying...something about the blind leading the blind?