The end of the chapter

On Friday I went to a sergeon to have my port removed. In some ways,  this feels like an end to the cancer chapter in the book of my life.  I'm sure that these events will continue to affect my future,  but in most ways I feel like my life is returning to normal.

Our temple President spoke in stale conference last week and shared a quote that has sick with me.  Something like this,  "too heal is to rid from disease, to cure is to make whole." I'm grateful for the miracle of being disease free,  but also that my life is being restored to me.  My job,  my health,  the ability to spend time with friends and family doing things that I enjoy.  I am also grateful that I can be a help to my wife and not just one more Preston for her to take care of.

When I was in the midst of crisis,  I really felt that heavenly father was sustaining me.  Now that I'm on the other side of it,  I don't feel that strength to the same degree.  I feel like God gave me a bright light to see by in my darkest hour and now he his holding back a little too see what I will do.  I want to keep walling forward and holding on to the feelings that I have experienced.

3 years old!

It's been three years since my stem cell plant. I'm still alive! I'M STILL ALIVE! It's fading in my memory. I still think about it almost every day. It doesn't seem as immediate. I know cancer will always be a threat. I think I'll be lucky to see 65. But I think I can be confident about the next 10 to 15 years. That's kind of depressing, I don't think about it too often.

Peter just turned four this week. I was worried that if I died, he wouldn't have any memories of me. I am so grateful to be with Christina and my children. I'm so grateful that my recovery has been so strong. I feel more healthy than I did before my transplant. Because I'm not having episodes of vomiting that last for hours.

Life is so fragile. Love is so important. Families are forever. Being kind is more important than being right.

We went camping at La Wis Wis near Mt. Rainier last month. It was a great campout. We were with the Jacks and Phil and Mike's families. We hiked up a stream near the campground and found a little waterfall that emptied into a hollow in the rock. The hollow was about 10' x 6' with a deep pool. I'd guess around 12' deep. We were sliding down the rock into the pool. The water was cold! I lost my wedding ring while swimming out. I'd pretty much given up on seeing it again, but Brian (Jacks) went back last weekend with his brother and some diving gear and retrieved it. He loves adventure!

There is a spot in the river at the campground called the Blue Hole. It's very deep at one point and lined with a cliff on one side. I've been telling myself all year that I'd jump from the highest point on the cliff. It's probably close to 30 feet. I did it! Again- COLD!
Video: Cliff jumping at the Blue Hole

We dropped Megan off at BYU-I ten days ago. I miss my daughter. I'm glad we went together as a family to Rexburg. It was good to spend time all together. When we visited the campus I felt that it was the right place for her to be. I know it's time for her to move on to the next stage in her life. She's the same age I was when I left for my mission. I'm glad that we can call her and text her often. She's a ways away, but still connected to our family.

Christina pointed out that we're sort of at the top of the hill with our children. We've spent the last nineteen years bringing them into the world and raising them. One by one they've come into our home and one by one they'll begin leaving.

Is time still linear for Celestial beings? Is that what it means to have a perfect recollection? If time is never-ending, can we go back and re-experience things? Forever seems like an awful long time to live. Would we get bored after a few thousand years? Could we be born again only without our memories so that we could add new experiences to our consciousness?

Los frutos de la fe

 I was asked a few months ago to give a talk in the Spanish Branch in Benton City and I thought I'd put here on my blog to keep a record.

Los frutos de la fe

Crecí aquí en los Tri-Cities. He vivido en Kennewick, Pasco, y ya vivo en West Richland con mi familia y asistamos al barrio de Desert Hills. 

Ya hace 30 años desde que serví una misión en Guatemala.  

Al empezar la misión, me pareció imposible hacerlo. Me extrañé mucho a mi familia y la vida cómoda que tuve antes. 

Yo había estudiado español en la escuela secundaria. Y pasé dos meses en el entrenamiento misional para estudiar el idioma y la enseñanza del evangelio. Pensé que cuando llegara a Guatemala, podría comunicarme con la gente. Por lo menos, pensé que entendería las frases básicas.

Esto no es lo que me pasó al llegar a Guatemala. El presidente de la misión me dio un compañero y me mandó a la ciudad de Zacapa. Durante el viaje a mi primera área, intenté hablar con los pasajeros próximos. No les pude entender para nada. Ni podía separar las palabras el uno del otro en mi mente. Tal vez algunos de ustedes han tenido experiencias similares. 

Poco a poco me acostumbre

Poco a poco aprendí el idioma. Primero pude entender a otros, luego pude hablar. Y después de un rato, pude pensar en español.

Tuve experiencias maravillosas al enseñar el evangelio de Jesucristo. Llegue a conocer y amar la gente y disfrutar en mis experiencias misionales. 

Lo que era muy difícil al principio llegó a ser un placer y consideré la misión como un privilegio y no como una carga pesada.

Así son las experiencias de la vida. Cuando tenemos fe y seguimos adelante con esta fe, alcanzamos los frutos buenos que nuestro Padre Celestial espera darnos. Yo se que El tiene muchas bendiciones reservadas para nosotros cuando tenemos fe en su plan para nosotros y hagamos nuestra parte.

Se habla de los frutos muchas veces en las escrituras. En cada caso, los frutos representan los resultados de tener fe en el Señor y las acciones buenas que acompañan esta fe. 

En el Libro de Mormon, el profeta Alma comparó el conocimiento del evangelio a una semilla que se planta con fe en el corazón. Y después de ver que la semilla crece, se verá que

Debe ser que esta es una semilla buena, o que la palabra es buena, porque empieza a ensanchar mi alma; sí, empieza a iluminar mi entendimiento; sí, empieza a ser deliciosa para mí.

32 Por tanto, si una semilla crece, es semilla buena; pero si no crece, he aquí que no es buena; por lo tanto, es desechada.

33 Y he aquí, por haber probado el experimento y sembrado la semilla, y porque esta se hincha, y brota, y empieza a crecer, sabéis por fuerza que la semilla es buena.

He visto este principio en mi vida. Es maravilloso ver que cuando aceptamos la palabra de Dios, y cuando lo ponemos en nuestros corazones como acto de fe, podemos ver por los frutos en nuestras vidas que la palabra de Dios es verdadera. El evangelio nos da conocimiento que enriquece y hace mejor nuestras vidas. El conocimiento de que Dios es el padre de nuestros espíritus y que nos creó en su imagen es grandísimo. Que el nos ama como un padre ama a sus hijos es bonito saber. Que Jesucristo hizo la expiación y conquistó la muerte y el pecado para que podamos ser santificados es fruto bueno. Que tenemos un profeta quien nos hace saber la voluntad de Dios para nosotros en hoy día es conocimiento glorioso. Llegamos a tener testimonio de estos principios cuanto los probamos en nuestras vidas. Al vivir de acuerdo de este conocimiento, vemos las bendiciones de Dios y crecemos en la fe. 

El ganar testimonio de estas cosas vale la pena. Pero a veces es difícil.

Hay tiempos en la vida cuando estamos probados. Hay tiempos cuando es difícil mantener la fe. Tiempos cuando tenemos que ir adelante con paciencia aun cuando nos es difícil encontrar esta paciencia. Tal vez haya pasado un rato desde que ha sentido el amor de Dios en su vida. Es posible que lo que parecía claro hace tiempo está oscuro. Que haremos en este caso?

Quiero compartir una historia que mi Padre compartía conmigo cuando era joven. Tiene que ver con la fruta.

El grosellero

Hay en Canadá un arbusto que da fruta que se llama el grosellero. Elder Hugh B. Brown contó una historia de su arbusto y el dijo:

Salí una mañana y encontré un grosellero de al menos dos metros de altura. Sabía que se estaba convirtiendo en madera. No había ni rastro de flores ni de frutos… Así que cogí mis tijeras de podar y me puse a trabajar en ese grosellero. Lo podé, lo corté y lo talé hasta que no quedó nada más que un pequeño grupo de tocones.

Y mientras los miraba, cedí a un impulso, que a menudo tengo, de hablar con seres inanimados y que me hablen. … Al mirar ese pequeño grupo de tocones, parecía haber una lágrima en cada uno, y dije: "¿Qué te pasa, grosellero? ¿Por qué lloras?".

Y creí oír hablar a ese grosellero. Parecía decir: "¿Cómo pudiste hacerme esto? Estaba creciendo tan maravillosamente. Era casi tan grande como el árbol frutal y el árbol de sombra, y ahora me has cortado. Y todos en el jardín me mirarán con desprecio y lástima. ¿Cómo pudiste hacerlo? Creí que eras el jardinero".

Creí oír eso del grosellero. Lo pensé tanto que le respondí.

Dije: "Mira, pequeño grosellero, yo soy el jardinero y sé lo que quiero que seas. Si te dejo ir por donde quieres ir, nunca llegarás a nada. Pero algún día, cuando estés cargado de fruta, recordarás y dirás: "Gracias, Sr. Jardinero, por cortarme, por amarme lo suficiente como para hacerme daño".

Hermanos y hermanas, yo se que Dios tiene en mente una visión de lo mejor que yo pueda llegar a ser. Y él tiene un plan para ayudarme a convertirme en la mejor versión de mi.

A veces no sentimos el gran amor que nuestro padre nos tiene. A veces tenemos desafios que son muy difíciles de superar. Recordemos que esas pruebas nos pasan para nuestro bien. Que son parte del plan que el Senor tiene para que crezcamos y lleguemos a ser lo que podemos ser.

Al graduarme de la universidad, yo tenía esperanza en encontrar trabajo que apoyara a mi familia. No había mucho trabajo en el sujeto en que me había especializado. En ese tiempo, teníamos 4 hijos y a pesar de que no quería hacerlo, tuvimos que mudarnos a la casa con mis suegros. 

No pude ver los frutos de mis estudios en la universidad. Al orar, no sentí que recibí una respuesta en cuanto a lo que debería hacer para mejorar mi trabajo. Pasé mucho tiempo en esta situación. Esperé las bendiciones del Señor pero no aparecieron. Pero me acorde de las respuestas a las oraciones que recibí en otros tiempos y continúe teniendo fe en mi Padre Celestial. 

Eventualmente encontré trabajo satisfecho para que pudiéramos comprar una casa propia. Vi que fue un trabajo casi perfecto para que yo podría desarrollar los talentos que tengo. Yo se que fue una bendición de Dios que obtuve este trabajo y lo considero uno de los milagros que he tenido el privilegio de ver en mi vida. 

Pero por alguna razón, Dios me permitió pasar por un tiempo de duda. Ahora veo los frutos de esta experiencia. Aprendí a ser paciente en esperar a las bendiciones del Señor. Aprendí a seguir adelante aun cuando no tenía conocimiento del paso enfrente de mi. Crecio mi fe.

El arbol de la vida

Quiero hablarles de la visión que tuvo el profeta Lehi en el Libro de Mormon. Este visión también tiene que ver con los frutos. El relato su visión a sus hijos, contándoles:

8 Y después de haber caminado en la oscuridad por el espacio de muchas horas, empecé a implorarle al Señor que tuviera misericordia de mí, de acuerdo con la multitud de sus tiernas misericordias.

Lehi dice que caminó en la oscuridad por muchas horas. ¿Alguna vez han sentido que caminaran en la oscuridad? Que no podrian ver a su destino? En estas horas deseamos la luz. Deseamos tener conocimiento que todo saldrá bien. Tal vez estén preocupados por sus hijos. Tal vez tienen inquietudes sobre tener dinero suficiente para sus necesidades. Quizás están preocupados por un error que hayan hecho, o un error de uno de sus seres queridos.

Lehi continua su historia

Y aconteció que después de haber orado al Señor, vi un campo grande y espacioso.

10 Y sucedió que vi un árbol cuyo fruto era deseable para hacer a uno feliz.

11 Y aconteció que me adelanté y comí de su fruto; y percibí que era de lo más dulce, superior a todo cuanto yo había probado antes. Sí, y vi que su fruto era blanco, y excedía a toda blancura que yo jamás hubiera visto.

12 Y al comer de su fruto, mi alma se llenó de un gozo inmenso; por lo que deseé que participara también de él mi familia, pues sabía que su fruto era preferible a todos los demás.

Después de la prueba de la fe, viene la luz y las bendiciones del Señor. 

¿Por qué quiere Dios que crezcamos en la fe? Porque la fe nos da el poder de tener el espíritu con nosotros. La fe nos anima a vivir de acuerdo con los mandamientos de Dios. Es por la fe que vemos los milagros de Dios en nuestras vidas. 

En el libro de Mormon, el profeta Moroni nos ensena:

Moroni 7:32 Y obrando de este modo, el Señor Dios prepara la senda para que el resto de los hombres tengan fe en Cristo, a fin de que el Espíritu Santo tenga cabida en sus corazones, según su poder; y de este modo el Padre lleva a efecto los convenios que ha hecho con los hijos de los hombres.

33 Y Cristo ha dicho: Si tenéis fe en mí, tendréis poder para hacer cualquier cosa que me sea conveniente.

Nos recordamos que el fruto del árbol que Lehi comió y disfruto en su visión representa el amor de Dios y la vida eterna con El. Representa la última destinación en nuestro viaje por la vida y nuestra meta. Es la oportunidad de estar en la presencia de nuestro Padre Celestial por toda la eternidad, con nuestras familias y amigos justos. Podremos participar en la obra de Dios y llegar a conocerlo como pariente en verdad. No hay regalo más grande que pudiéramos recibir. Es el fruto del evangelio

Se que Jesus es nuestro salvador. El nos quiere y nos ayudará y nos apoyara en todas las circunstancias de la vida si tenemos fe y hacemos lo que nos pide. Y veremos los milagros que siguen la fe en Cristo y recibiremos los frutos del vivir de acuerdo con el evangelio. 

2018 Highlights

Books

George Washington's Secret Six: The Spy Ring that Saved the American Revolution (Brian Kilmeade)

Espionage is always interesting and I had no idea that it played an important role in the Revolution.

Andrew Jackson and the Miracle of New Orleans: The Battle That Shaped America's Destiny ( (Brian Kilmeade and Don Yaeger)

An interesting book about Jackson as a military strategist. He outwitted a superior British force at a crucial moment in the war of 1812.

The Lost City of the Monkey God: A True Story (Douglas Preston)

The story of a centuries-long search for a lost city in the rainforest of Honduras and the mystery of the disappearance of the original inhabitants.

The Boys in the Boat: Nine Americans and Their Epic Quest for Gold at the 1936 Berlin Olympics (Daniel James Brown)

This is the story of a rowing crew from the University of Washington during the Great Depression. It's a great historical snapshot, the real-life characters are interesting, and the descriptions of their training and races pulled me in. 

The Long Walk: The True Story of a Trek to Freedom (Sławomir Rawicz)

This is the story of a group of prisoners in a Siberian internment camp in Russia during WW2. They escape and walk south through the Gobe desert, the Himalayas, and finally to the British colony in India. It is an amazing story of ingenuity, survival, and persistance.

Oathbreaker, Book 3 in the Stormlight Archive (Brandon Sanderson)

For me, Sanderson has brought new life to the fantasy genre which I had felt was getting tired. The world and magic he creates are fresh and new. The characters have moments of tragedy and triumph that make them very compelling. My favorite author right now.

Music

I saw the Punch Brothers with my daughter at the Bing in Spokane last summer. It was flat out the best concert I've ever experienced. Every song was amazing. The acoustics were amazing. I liked the band before, but this converted me to a fan. This isn't the same show, but the setlist is similar: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FWCH_h8SEuo&t=5469s. If you only have time to check out one song, try My Oh My.

About Christina

When I married Christina, I definitely felt like I was "marrying up." She is a woman of many talents and virtues. I'm happy for the chance to share a few of them with you.

Christina is very musical. In high school she was the drum major for the Pasco High marching band for her junior and senior years. She played the oboe, clarinet, flute and saxophone. She taught herself to play the piano and can play the hymns and primary songs. She has a beautiful voice and I love to hear her sing. 

Christina is a teacher. She has a talent for explaining things to our children, whether it be a gospel doctrine, historical event, or an algebra problem. She home-schooled our children for several years before taking some time off to help me heal.

Christina is a nurse. She's helped our children to deal with everything from broken bones to late nights with the flu. She's performed surgery to remove splinters and comforted infants after getting their immunizations. When we found out we'd need to go to Seattle for several months while I underwent a stem cell transplant, she insisted on coming to be by my side. Her courage and constant care were a great blessing to me. There were many days when I felt discouraged and depressed but Christina was always there to cheer me up and refill my hope-o-meter.

Christina is an accounting wizard. She has managed to keep us afloat through many years of schooling, through several years of self-employment, through eight pregnancies and births, and through our latest medical adventure with a stem cell transplant. 

Christina is a wonderful mother. When we were dating, she shared with me that this was her goal in life. Having eight children isn't easy, there are many times when we feel like perhaps we've bitten off more than we can chew. But we have a great family and really enjoy doing things together!

Christina is also an excellent cook, trip-planner, and home decorator. She is repulsed by seafood. She doesn't have a favorite color, but if pressed, she would probably say she likes white, off-white, cream, or yellow. After 19 years of marriage, she has developed a tolerance for black licorice and Led Zeppelin, though she would prefer anything vanilla and the soundtrack to a musical. She rarely has any free time, but when she does she enjoys sewing and reading.

I'm really glad to have Christina in my life!

Politics is a load of hooey

It turns out that members of my church are not fans of President Obama, as evidenced by his 18% approval rating in our membership. The lowest approval rating for any faith organization. Which is fine, I guess. But what bothers me is the vitriol that I hear against him from my fellow members.

For a church that has experienced it's fair share of persecution based on hyperbole and half-truth, we sure seem ready to dish it out to others. There are three attitudes that I see on my side that really bother me.

FAILURE OF GOODWILL

John Gardner, the secretary of health, education, and welfare under Lyndon B. Johnson gave a good definition of political extremism:

"Political extremism involves two prime ingredients: An excessively simple diagnosis of the world’s ills and a conviction that there are identifiable villains back of it all... Blind belief in one’s cause and a low view of the morality of other Americans–these seem mild failings. But they are the soil in which ranker weeds take root... terrorism, and the deep, destructive cleavages that paralyze a society." (John Gardner, No Easy Victories)

From 2001 through 2008, I was really bothered by all of the obvious hatred that the left felt for GW Bush. To me it felt like they were right there with him leading up to the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, but then as soon as things began to go south, they turned on him. And not just by way of disagreement or principle. It seemed to me that some of them took an almost devilish pleasure in calling him a liar and pointing out each little fault or stumble. They considered him too stupid to write a speech on his own, yet clever enough to trick them all into supporting his adventures in the middle east.

After President Obama was elected, I hoped that the right would take a higher road. That if my side disagreed with him, it would be for good policy, not because of a visceral dislike for the man. Nope. One of the first anti-Obama books that I saw was "the Obama Nation" by Jerome Corsi. Nice little play on words there, right? Obama-nation, abomination. Subtle. It reminded me of when some second-grade bullies at school thought it would be funny to call me "Contami-Nathan." Ha ha, never got old.

I was surprised at how quickly the far right was able to foment a distrust in and a hatred for President Obama. Not for his policies, but for him as a person. It was just like what the far left did to President Bush during his tenure. And what the right did to Clinton during his and the left did to Reagan during his and... do you see a pattern, here?

I'm all for political debate and disagreement, but doesn't this feel reminiscent of the anti-mormon attacks on Joseph Smith? Digging and prodding for any unsavory details while ignoring any good that he might have accomplished?

DISMISSING OPPOSING VIEWS AS INVALID

My dad gave me a recording several years ago by Hugh B. Brown. In the beginning, he addresses his audience of graduating BYU students with some political advice. "First, I’d like you to be reassured that the leaders of both major political parties in this land are men of integrity, and unquestioned patriotism. Beware of those who feel obliged to prove their own patriotism by calling into question the loyalty of others... Strive to develop a maturity of mind and emotion and a depth of spirit which will enable you to differ with others on matters of politics without calling into question the integrity of those with whom you differ. Allow within the bounds of your definition of religious orthodoxy variation of political belief... I’ve found by long experience that our two-party system is sound." (Hugh B. Brown, Profile of a Prophet)

I went into the Masters in Communication program at Eastern Washington University as a defender of the conservative faith. I often engaged with my professors and classmates in political debate. I emerged from my studies with my conservatism intact. But I had also gained a respect for my friends on the left that I didn't have before. I realized that they actually had many good arguments for their positions and that if I didn't see any validity to my opponents' point of view, then it really meant that I didn't understand that point of view very well.

PROPAGANDA AND THE RAH-RAH RIGHT

Talk radio. I ate this stuff up when I was in my twenties. All of the hosts are funny. It felt great to feel like I was part of a movement. To feel that there were millions of like-minded folks all over the country that were "in the know."

But in my thirties, I began to have a change of heart. One quote that President Hinckley gave has stuck with me. "Our generation is afflicted with critics in the media who think they do a great and clever thing in mercilessly attacking men and women in public office and in other positions of leadership. They are prone to take a line or a paragraph out of context and pursue their prey like a swarm of killer bees." Gordon B. Hinckley, Standing for Something

I began to notice that most of the stories weren't about promoting the politics of the right but about denigrating the members of the left.

I also began to see how self-serving it all was for the talk show hosts. "Hey, i just came out with a new book. Hey, I'm coming to speak in your town. Hey, the democrats are attacking me again, they want to shut us down. Hey, I just hired a new private security guard- I'm really putting my life on the line to get this to you." Just a constant siege mentality. Always talking about broadcasting from bunkers and threats from our government (I know it's a joke, but really). The point is, the shows may be about politics, they may be about advancing the conservative agenda (whatever that is nowadays), they may have their sincere moments, but at their heart they are about promoting and sensationalizing the host.

I mostly listen to NPR now. Not because I agree with the politics of their hosts, but because I much prefer their tone of discussion and willingness to at least pretend to look at both sides of an issue.

So that's it. I'm not trying to change anyone's politics, but can we please be nice to each other?

Wonder of wonders, miracle of miracles

I have a friend at church who I think of as the grandfather of our ward. I admire him for his faith and knowledge of the gospel. I look forward to seeing his smile every week as he greets me. Today he asked me for an update on my life. He told me that he knows that I have had more miracles to share. So here goes.

This is a topic that has weighed heavily on me. I am so grateful for what God has done for me and my family. For the comfort He gave us during our ordeal. For the many friends He placed in our lives to love and support us. And yet, to be honest, it's hard to rejoice when I see so many others suffering through challenges of their own, where the outcome doesn't look as good. My sister-in-laws's dad is fighting ALS, a disease with no cure. Our families were friends as I was growing up, and I've known him since I was eight or so, and I know that it has been hard on her and her siblings to watch their father slowly degenerate.

Another family who was close to mine lost their mother several years back to cancer. She was almost like an aunt to me. She was a good, faithful member of the church and I know that it has been hard for her family to be without her.

I know of a young girl who lives close by who has been battling cancer and was just told that it has moved to her lungs and been given very little time to live. A friend of ours from Seattle recently finished his battle with cancer and passed on, leaving a young wife and daughter. My cousin is fighting leukemia (hang in there, Kent!)

I know that these are all good people who are certainly no less deserving of miracles than I. One thing I've realized though is that while I absolutely believe that my continued life is a miracle, it is not the real miracle. The real miracle is God's love for us. I know that we won't always have our prayers answered, at least not the way we might want them to be. But I also know that He loves us. I know it, because I have felt His presence with me. And although I am grateful to still be alive, I am even more grateful to know that He is really there and that He cares about me, my family, and all of us.

The Grateful (not to be) Dead

I went to a car show with my eight year old boy Derek yesterday. We had a lot of fun walking around and picking out favorite cars together. It always amazes me to see the obvious care and time that some people have put into their classic cars. Being an air-cooled VW aficionado, I was excited to see an old camper bus on display. The back window had several stickers in it, but one caught my eye. It looked like an old Grateful Dead sticker, but instead it read "Grateful to not be dead." I can relate!

I've been having a thought run around my head lately. It has to do with the classic Bible story about the 10 lepers. It's the one that we usually here in church when there is a lesson or talk that has to do with gratitude. In the story, Jesus heals ten people of their leprosy. Excited, they all run off to tell their friends and families the good news. Only one returns to express gratitude to the Savior. The moral of the story is that only this one showed gratitude for the miracle that occurred in his life.

But now that I think about it, I imagine that all ten lepers went home and felt gratitude towards the Savior for healing them. I imagine that every day for the rest of their lives they thought about what had been done for them. The more I think about it, the more I'm convinced that all of the lepers probably felt gratitude in their hearts. I think that the real difference is that the one leper stopped to actually express that gratitude. He did something with it by going back to the Saviour and thanking him. He showed his gratitude by his actions.

It's really easy for me to identify with those nine lepers. The rawness of the ordeal we've been through has started to fade. And yet, not a day goes by that I don't think about it. And we are still feeling the aftershocks of it in our family. I am grateful in my heart for the miracle that I'm still here. But I want to show that gratitude through my actions. I hope that I can.

Filling our lamps with faith in Jesus

I don't know if I can say that I look forward to speaking in church, but I would much rather have been there today to give this talk that I had prepared than staying at home with stomach cramps. I am so grateful to have a wonderful wife who cheerfully offered to speak in my place so that I could stay home and rest. 

Filling our lamps with faith in Jesus

Brothers and sisters, I would like to talk to you this Easter morning about filling our lamps with faith in our Savior. In the parable of the ten virgins, Jesus likened the members of the church to people who had been invited to a wedding. All ten of the women in the story had brought lamps to keep watch for the bridegroom to come. But the bridegroom was delayed and the night grew late. Five of the women had brought enough oil to keep their lamps burning. The other five didn't have enough. As they went off to look for oil to buy, they missed the entrance of the bridegroom and were unable to attend the wedding celebration. Although these women started out with oil in their lamps, just like their sisters, when the time came that they really needed those lamps, they had gone out.

Elder Bednar retold this parable in conference two years ago and likened the lamps to personal testimony and the oil to conversion to the gospel.

A little over a year ago, I was diagnosed with cancer, a blood cancer called lymphoma. It was an aggressive disease that had already spread through my lymph nodes, my spleen, and my bone marrow. It later spread to my spinal column.

I have received many blessings during this ordeal, both physical and spiritual. I can testify that God does not leave us alone in our times of need. From the day that I was diagnosed, I have often felt a blanket of comfort surrounding me and my family. We weren't prepared temporally for this trial, but I feel that in many ways we were prepared spiritually. When this trial appeared in our lives, we had oil in our lamps.

I've seen others go through difficult trials in their lives and I've seen that through our choices, these trials can either bring us closer to God or lead us away from Him. And it largely depends on how much oil we have in our lamps. Will we be ready when darkness comes into our lives? Will we have enough oil to light our way? Or light the way for our children and families?

Developing a personal relationship with Jesus

One way we can fill our lamps is to develop a personal relationship with our Savior. After the death of Jesus, Peter was called to lead the church. As the prophet, he wrote an epistle to the saints in Asia minor who were being persecuted. He speaks of the testimony that these saints had, notwithstanding that they hadn't been present to see the Savior. They hadn't witnessed His miracles or heard Him give a sermon.

Whom having not seen, ye love; in whom, though now ye see him not, yet believing, ye rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of glory:

Receiving the end of your faith, even the salvation of your souls. (1 Peter 1:8-9)

These saints not only had faith in Christ, but had a love for him. This is a question I've asked myself many times. Do I love the Savior? I believe in Him, but how can we build a relationship with someone who we don't see, at least not very often :) How do I develop a love for him?

When I was about five years old, my grandfather passed away from colon cancer. My grandparents lived in Ogden Utah, and my family lived in the Tri-Cities. We saw each other once or twice a year. I don't remember what he looked like, but I do have a few memories of being with him before he passed away. When I was diagnosed with cancer, I felt a kinship to him. I wish we could have bonded through something else, maybe a love for woodworking or board games :) But I've been thinking a lot about my grandpa through my own experiences. I've asked my Dad to tell me more about him. I've seen pictures of him when he was younger. He reminds me of one of my brothers. I feel closer to him because I've made an effort to learn more about him and I've felt an empathy for him as I've had to go through some of the things he had to face in his life. Although I barely remember him, I love him.

I think that building a relationship with Jesus requires this same effort, and although we may not see him or hear his voice aloud, we can have a loving relationship with him.

Jesus told his disciples in the gospel of John (14:10), “if ye love me, keep my commandments.” I believe that this adage can be reversed. In other words, if we keep the commandments, we will learn to love the Savior. How? Because when we are obedient, we will be blessed. And when we are blessed, we will feel closer to our Heavenly Father and to his Son.

I've seen this many times in my life. I'm not a perfect home teacher. But I've noticed that when I go, and put effort into preparing a lesson and praying for the families in my care, I invariably feel the spirit after the visit. And one of the fruits of the spirit is love. And I feel more love for the savior when I feel that I'm doing what He would have me do.

One of my favorite movies is “Fiddler on the Roof.” I know, it's a musical. It has people singing and dancing. It has not one but four love stories. There isn't a single car chase or a fight scene or an explosion. But it is such a powerful movie.

The main character is a father named Tevya. The main conflicts in his movie stem from his desire to maintain tradition and faith even while his whole world changes around him. Does that sound familiar? Think about how much our world is changing around us, every day. I really like that throughout the film, Tevya talks through his problems with God. He talks to him as a real person, who really cares about the details of his life. Just like we might talk to our dads.

Heavenly Father is an awesomely powerful being who deserves our reverence and respect. But he is also our literal father who loves us and cares for us. I remember as a teenager, I heard a talk in church that made an impression on me. The speaker taught us the importance of using proper prayer language, using the words thee and thou to show respect for our Heavenly Father. When I served a Spanish-speaking mission, I was surprised to learn that in prayer it was considered proper to use the tu form to address Heavenly Father. The tu form is how you would address family members or friends with whom you are well acquainted. Usted is the form that you would use for someone to whom you want to show respect. As missionaries, we were instructed to use the usted form with everyone as a gesture of respect and to refrain from appearing too familiar with others. And yet, when we prayed, we were taught to use the tu form. It almost seemed a reversal of our practice of using thee and thou in the United States. But it made me realize again that God is our father in heaven, that we should be familiar with him.

In another mission experience, we were having our weekly district meeting. One of the sisters gave the opening prayer and began with an enthusiastic, “buenos dias, padre” or “good morning, father.” A few of us elders gave a little laugh at her nontraditional opening, but the more I thought about it, the more I felt that it was appropriate. I think sometimes we lean too far towards treating our God like a visiting dignitary with a lot of propriety and maybe a little bit of pomp when maybe it would be to our benefit to treat him like our father.

Intellectual understanding vs. spiritual understanding of the Atonement

According to Wikipedia, there are 7 billion people on earth today. In 1900, the population was estimated at 1 billion. Demographers estimate 100 billion humans have lived on the earth.

Val Johnson wrote an article last year for the Ensign in which he stated, “The number of planets in our galaxy alone could easily be in the hundreds of billions. Considering that there are hundreds of billions of galaxies in the visible universe, the number of planets is so large as to be incomprehensible—truly worlds without number (see Moses 1:33–35)”. R. Val Johnson, Worlds without Number, Ensign 2013

We are taught in the scriptures that the atonement is an infinite atonement, and covers all of God's creations. In one of our Sunday School manuals, the Doctrines of the Gospel, we find the statement: “The infinite Atonement affects worlds without number and will save all of God’s children except sons of perdition.”

We know that God's children are as numberless as the sands of the sea. I mention this because these numbers are incomprehensible. And the idea that the death of one man could atone for the wrongs of everybody who ever lived, everybody who ever will live, and even those who may have lived on countless other worlds is difficult to comprehend. It is hard to understand how it would work on an intellectual level.

And not only that, but we believe that Jesus not only suffered for our sins, but that he suffered our pains and sorrows in the garden of Gethsemane so that “he [might] know according to the flesh how to succor his people according to their infirmities.” (Alma 7:12)

The atonement isn't something that we can understand by reading about it. Or by studying it out in our minds. The atonement is an event that we can only understand spiritually through our own experience with it.

Called to witness

On my way home from church last week, I had just been asked to speak today. I thought to myself, I don't feel qualified to speak about the atonement. It is such a big subject, the central subject of the gospel. I'm not a scriptorian. I'm not a spiritual giant. I'm just a regular member of the church who struggles to get his kids ready for church on time, do his home teaching, and read the scriptures as often as I know I should.

But then I started thinking about what really would qualify someone to speak about the atonement. And I realized that there is a much better qualification than knowledge of the atonement, and that is experience with the atonement. And I have experienced the power of the atonement in my life.

I've said this before, but I have a new-found love for the word remission. Every time I go through any test or experience that shows that I am now cancer free, my heart is light and I get a big smile on my face. This is a huge miracle in my life! But someday, I'm still going to die. At least, statistically, that is what happens to the majority of us humans. And I hope that it is many, many years from now.

But there is another meaning of the word remission, and it refers to the cleansing of sins. The Savior testified that He had that power, the power to forgive sins. Most of the people didn't believe Him. It didn't fit in with what they already believed about the world. But he does have that power. I know because I have felt it in my life. And as good as it feels to be in remission from cancer, I know that the real miracle in my life, in all of our lives, is the remission of our sins.

I know that you have felt that power as well. That is why we are here today, to celebrate our Savior and His atonement for us.

The word “gospel” is translated from Greek. Most of you probably already know that it means “good news.” What an understatement! Good news is when you take your car to the mechanic and instead of needing an engine replacement, he tells you that one of your switches is dead. Good news is when you find out your teacher will give you an opportunity for extra credit on your final exam.

The atonement is much more than that! It gives meaning to our lives. It tells us that any suffering that we go through is not in vain, but to our benefit. It teaches us that we are not alone, no matter how dark our lives might be at times, we have a savior who knows us, who loves us, who suffers beside us and will ultimately triumph with us.

I've really enjoyed seeing my friends share their thoughts on the atonement on Facebook and other social media sites. I think that the church’s' Because of Him campaign is a great way to share our feelings with the world during this Easter season.

When we seek out gospel experiences and share them with others, we are filling our lamps with oil. In the parable of the ten virgins, the five who are prepared are not able to share their light with those who are unprepared. And it is true that in the moment of necessity, we won't be able to just give our faith to another. But through sharing our experiences now, we can help others to fill their lamps and build their reserves.

Mary Cook said in a recent conference talk, “decide now to do all you can to fill your lamps, that your strong testimony and example may be woven into the lives of many generations—past, present and future. I testify that your virtuous life will not only save generations, but it will also save your eternal life, for it is the only way to return to our Father in Heaven and find true joy now and throughout eternity.” When you save a girl, you save generations, April 2013 conference

I know that as we fill our lamps with faith in our Lord, we will be prepared when times of darkness and trial inevitably come to our lives. And moreover, when we share our light with others, we can help strengthen them as well. I am grateful for our Savior and for His atonement on our behalf. I hope that we can all remember him and experience His love more fully in our lives.

In Jesus' name, amen.

Test anxiety

I hate tests. I didn't mind them so much when I was in school. I usually had a pretty good idea of how well I'd score based on how much preparation I'd put into it. And although you could say my future depended on how well I performed, that connection didn't feel very solid to me. But now the tests I take usually involve physical discomfort and with some of them the outcome could mean a poor prognosis for my future survival. Not something to look forward to.

On Thursday I was given a PET scan in Yakima. The results weren't what we'd hoped for, but I'm not sure yet what they'll mean. The short version is that the radiologists discovered an anomaly in my head and that my doctor is going to refer me to an ear/nose/throat specialist to see how best to get a tissue sample from the area and to see if it contains any cancer cells.

I'm not in panic mode. But after several months of slow improvement and good clean scans, it is not fun to be worrying.

If you've never experienced the pleasure of a PET scan, I'll give you the rundown. The day before, you need to watch your diet and exercise. Specifically, you are not supposed to exercise and you are not to eat any carbohydrates or sugars or indulge in anything that contains caffeine. This is to make sure that your blood sugar is low. The day of the scan, you'll need to be fasting, except for clear liquids. A nurse will give you an IV injection with a radioactive dye. Then you wait for an hour, sitting in an easy chair in a dark room while the contrast (radioactive dye) spreads throughout your body. I actually slept for 15 minutes or so. Then you're put in a tunnel-shaped scanner, told to lie as still as possible, and you are scanned for about 45 minutes.

The images that are generated are really neat. They are in 3D and you can rotate them and see your bones and organs. Certain organs and cells have a higher uptake (they take in more of the radioactive dye) and show up much brighter on the images. Your brain and kidneys will show up really bright. So will cancer cells, which makes a PET scan good for measuring cancer development.

According to Medline, abnormal PET scans can be caused by an infection. The article also states that a PET scan can show areas of poor blood flow. I do have a sinus infection and had taken a dose of nasal spray right before the test. Afrin constricts the blood vessels in your nasal passages, so Christina and I are hoping that this will explain the abnormalities in my scan results.

I'm grateful for my church. Once a month we have a special meeting where we don't have any assigned speakers for our sermon. Instead, any member of the congregation can stand up and share their feelings about God or how the gospel has helped them in their lives. I feel closer to my fellow travelers as I listen to their triumphs and struggles. I also feel closer to the Lord as I can see evidence of his love in our lives. I don't get up to share my own experiences more than once a year or so, but even when I'm not sharing, I'm thinking about what I would say if I were to get up. It's a good experience because it makes me more aware of the Lord and his influence in my life and take stock of where my faith is.

Anyway, in a weekend filled with some anxiety over my test results, today's meeting was very grounding for me. I'm ready to put this whole cancer experience behind me, but I realize that the Lord might not be through with me yet. I believe that he has a plan to make me into the man that I need to be. I've felt his love for me and my family. We've passed through setbacks before and can do it again, if necessary.

Under water

I'm thankful for the grounding that religion can give us in our lives. Last month I had the privilege of baptizing my eight-year-old son Derek. One of the things that makes my church special to me is that we have a lay priesthood. This means that instead of having one person at the head of the congregation who has the responsibility of teaching the gospel and performing the ordinances of baptism, laying on of hands, etc., we all share in these responsibilities.

Any male member of the church who conforms to our basic teachings is called to be a member of the priesthood, and yup, I'm included. In our church, eight years old is the minimum age for baptism. We figure that by then the kids are old enough to understand what they're doing and to remember it later. Derek is our fifth child to be baptized and our whole family was excited to be there. My parents and two siblings came down from Couer d'Alene and Spokane to be with us for the day. Christina's parents and five of her siblings were there with their families. Two of Derek's cousins were getting baptized in the same service. In fact, since it was just the three of them, it was pretty much a family affair.

Baptizing my son reminded me of my own baptism just 31 years ago. I remember the feeling of the warm water in the font. The feeling of my Dad being there with me, of his hands holding me while I dunked under the water. The feeling of the wet white jumpsuit clinging to my legs and making me feel heavier. And the feeling that I was moving on to a new stage in my life and participating in something good.

Baptism is a ceremony that dates at least back to the time of Jesus. As I baptized Derek I couldn't help but think that I was filling the role that John the Baptist played for the Savior, and that Derek was following Jesus into the water. There is something special about participating in such an ancient ordinance that gives it weight and significance in our lives.

After baptism, we put on our dry Sunday clothes and got ready for his confirmation. In the confirmation ceremony, a circle of priesthood holders (usually family members) place their hands on the head of the person to be confirmed. One member of the circle (often the father, me in this case) voices a prayer in which the recipient is confirmed a member of the church and commanded to receive the Holy Ghost, following this a blessing is given.

We give priesthood blessings to newborns, to our children, to fellow church members, or anybody who asks when they are facing an illness, a challenge, or any significant life event. The first few times I had the opportunity to give blessings I was really nervous. I try not to put a lot of thought into what I will say during the blessing. I'd like to think that my mind is open to the inspiration of heaven. Over the years I've become more comfortable with the process, but I still get a little nervous.

I wish that I'd written this closer to the event, I've forgotten pretty much all of the words of the blessing. But to me, the miracle is that when I clear my mind, I feel like words are given me to say. Words that I wouldn't have come up with on my own. And the words were accompanied by a feeling that what we were doing was right and good.

As I said at the beginning, I'm grateful to have faith in my life. I think it's something that comes easier to some than to others. There's been times when I've had struggles with belief. Many religious teachings can sometimes feel like wishful thinking or inadequate explanations. My faith is based in experiences like my son's baptism. Times in my life where I've felt closer to heaven, when my doubts recede and my faith is increased. I still have doubts sometimes, but they pale in the light of the experiences I've had. And I feel that when I have these moments of faith, my life is happier, my relationship with my wife and children is stronger and more meaningful, and I have a little bit better understanding of who God is and what He wants for me.

Derek McKay and his proud father, January 25, 2014

About the world we live in, and life in general

Gee, but it’s great to be back home 
Home is where I want to be
I’ve been on the road so long, my friend 
And if you came along I know you couldn’t disagree

A little Simon & Garfunkel to start out my post. It really is great to be back home! I just realized that I haven't written since early December. A lot has happened since then. The fourth of this month was the one year anniversary of my lymphoma diagnosis. We didn't do anything to celebrate.

We had a wonderful Christmas! We had carolers come to our home the night we returned. Our front yard was full of friends and family. It was a great way to be welcomed home. We spent the week just loving each other and being grateful for our blessings. Our time went by quickly and Christina, Norah, Peter and I went back up to Seattle for my final appointments with the staff there. We came home for good on Dec. 31.

As eager as we were to come home, it was almost hard to leave Seattle. We felt safe there with the nurses and doctors at the SCCA. We had been through some hard times and some good times there and developed a great relationship with them. In September after we had received the bad news that I still had cancer cells in my spinal fluid and that the transplant had little chance of clearing them out, our long-term nurse Cindy stayed behind in our room to give us a hug and tell us that whether my chances were 1% or 5% I still had a chance and that I could survive this. That made a difference to us. I still get choked up when I think about that day.

Christina and I were able to spend a lot of time together. More time alone than we've had since we were engaged to be married. Well, we did have Peter, but after having 8 kids, we felt as if we were alone. I think that some couples go through adversity and it tears them apart. I'm grateful to report that for us, going through this experience pulled us together. When we first discovered that I'd be going to Seattle for a transplant, I insisted that Christina stay at home with our children. She insisted that her place was with me and that the kids would be alright at home with her Mom and my Mom there to care for them. I know that it has required a lot of sacrifice from our mothers and that it has sometimes been hard for our kids, but I also know that staying together as a couple was the right decision for us. I don't think I could have gone through this emotionally, physically, or spiritually without my sweetheart at my side. I treasure the relationship we've built.

Now we're back in the real world. One of the things I like best is being around healthy people. It's hard to see people suffering through cancer treatments, even though so many of them have great attitudes and real insight to share. One lady and her husband were going home after a failed transplant. She knew that her husband only had weeks left in his life. When she found out that we were about to leave the UW medical center and would need an apartment, she offered to give us hers, where the rent was already paid for the rest of the month. I was surprised that she would make such a generous offer to us when we were almost strangers to her and she was surely distracted by her own grief. People can be so good to each other, even under the poorest of circumstances. Sadly, her husband passed away in early December.

We made friends with a couple from Spokane, Leland and Rebekah. Lee had had a transplant a year before, but his leukemia had returned about 9 months later. After going through treatments from a new experimental study, when we met his cancer appeared to be in remission. We had dinner with them the last week of December and Lee looked healthier than I was. We found out in early January that his cancer had returned. He and Bekah returned to Spokane with their little daughter. Lee passed away about a week and a half ago. Sometimes I feel like I'm experiencing some PTSD from my experiences. Cancer is horrible. I don't know why some people are able to survive it and others can't. But I'm glad that I'm still here and I plan on sticking around.

I'm seeing a new doctor, Thomas Boyd in Yakima. We wanted a lymphoma specialist who was used to working with the Seattle Cancer Care Alliance and their long-term follow-up department recommended him. He has a great office, it reminds me of a ski lodge! Here is their lobby:



I'm seeing Dr. Boyd once a week. I'm also taking a fitness class at the Tri-City Court Club that is designed especially for cancer patients. I'm starting to feel a little bit like my old self. I'm hoping to start back to work, at least part-time this spring. In the meantime, I'm sleeping a lot and spending time with Eliza and Norah while their siblings are in school.

Life is precious, good and worth giving our best to!

Too much information

I feel like I'm living in a bubble, far away from home, friends and family. I planned on using my recovery time here to do some painting, drawing and maybe practice my guitar skills. To be honest, I spend most of my days in bed resting. For the first 30 days after my transplant, I didn't even have enough energy to read. I just laid in my hospital bed, napping and listening to the pumps send IV nutrition, saline, and medicine into my body. I didn't eat solid food for at least 3 weeks, my mouth and throat were sore from the whole body radiation I'd received. Christina and Peter were my lifeline to the world. Christina made sure that I walked a mile through the hallways each day. I'd get a paper footprint to put on the door with each mile. Days seemed to go by so slowly.

To be released from the hospital I needed to show that I could eat solid foods again, swallow my pills, and show that my engraftment of my brother's stem cells was successful (this showed up in blood tests). When I left after 30 days, my blood counts were at the minimum for being sent home. I was vomiting almost every day and most foods made me nauseous. I'd lost most of my sense of taste- most food tasted like cardboard. And it was cold! I'd spent a month at a near constant temperature and now i could barely stand to go outside. But, sweet freedom! I felt like I'd been released from prison after spending so long in the same room, only able to wander the hallways of my hospital floor.

The second 30 days went a lot faster. We had our kids come up two at a time to visit for a week, which was just plain awesome. I slowly regained my taste and broadened my acceptable foods list. I'd still feel nausea, but was down to vomiting once a week or so. I wasn't able to drink water and most days would be hooked up to IV hydration for 8 to 12 hours. Fortunately, we were given a portable pump and hydration system, so I'm able to carry it around with me. My saliva was really thick, and swallowing it made me nauseous, so I carried an empty peanut butter container around with me to spit in. I felt like a high-school wrestler trying to make weight for my next meet. But we received the glorious news that no cancer was found in my spinal fluid and that my bone marrow was clear as well!

Today I am 87 days post-transplant. I've had a cold for the last two weeks. Christina and Peter both had it for about 5 days. My immune system is obviously still struggling. But I've kept out of the hospital and haven't had to have a growth factor shot (to boost my neutrophil counts) for several weeks now. I'm able to drink water again and am only on IV fluids for 4 hours a day. My taste for food has come back and even though I'm still fighting nausea, my list of friendly foods has grown.

My weight is down to about 165 lbs., which I haven't seen since high school. I look in the mirror and see that I've lost a lot of muscle mass. About 3 years ago I weighed 225 lbs. Deciding to shed some weight, I was down to 190 lbs a year later. My secret was to cut sugar out of my diet for several months, then to allow myself one treat per week. I think that was a pretty healthy weight for me. Now I feel like I've been in a concentration camp. My apologies to anyone who has actually been in a concentration camp, I know that my experience is actually nothing like it :)

I'm shaving again and growing my hair back (although it has yet to make much of an appearance on my scalp). I think I might have a pinched nerve in my back from one of my last spinal taps. When I cough or get out of bed I feel an almost electrical jolt in my hips, lower back and the backs of my legs. Not too fun. I've read several issues of Wired and MotorTrends, thanks to my brother-in-law. I've also read a book, not just a light one, but "Rough Stone Rolling" by Richard Bushman. It's a biography of Joseph Smith, the founder of Mormonism. I haven't read anything with so many footnotes since I finished my masters degree!

Instead of painting, I've been digitizing our CD music collection and organizing the files. Christina and I are on season 5 of Psych and enjoying laughing together. We've been listening to Christmas music and try to go to the mall every day to go on a walk together. The days are going by much faster and we're so looking forward to being with our children for Christmas. If all goes well, we'll be heading home on the 24th! I'm excited to see all of our friends in the Tri-Cities again!

We're looking at a new oncologist in Yakima for my follow-up care. We've had difficulties communicating with my doc in Kennewick, but their aren't many lymphoma specialists around. Dr. Boyd in Yakima has worked with the SCCA for follow up care before, and he's a lymphoma specialist. I'll need to meet with him at least once a week for the first month. I'll have two more spinal taps to look forward to (they're giving me intrathecal chemo as a precaution against the cancer cells coming back). I'm hoping that I'll be drinking enough fluids that I'll no longer need IV hydration. Before we leave Seattle, the doctors will remove the catheter to my jugular vein that we're using for the hydration.

We'll be watching for signs of graft vs. host disease over the next year. It can manifest itself in many ways, mostly through skin rashes or in the gut. The nausea that I'm still experiencing is a sign of graft vs. host in the gut and I've been taking steroids to try to help with it. I'm really hoping that it's a temporary manifestation and that I'll recover from it. I think I'd rather have a skin rash.

Sometimes I feel like I've had the last year of my life taken away from me. I certainly would never have chosen to go through this trial, but whenever I start to feel down about it, I have the thought run through my head that there are many people who are much worse off than I am. I've met several people here who are no longer on this earth, or who have little hope of being healed. I know several people at home with incurable diseases or who have lost loved ones through car accidents.

This one bad experience has also contained many good experiences. I have been truly blessed with good friends and neighbors. I've also felt the love of my Heavenly Father surround me and comfort me, stronger than any previous experience I'd had in my life. And in just a little over a week we'll be home!