On a More Serious Note

I took a fishing trip to Tony Grove up Logan Canyon.

Logan Canyon

 What do I miss about Hurricane? There are a lot of things I miss. I miss my family, friends, clean air, Zion, zero traffic, and the sweltering heat, just to name a few. One of the things I miss the most, though, would have to be my co-workers. I worked with the best people around. After 7 years I developed a very good relationship with my boss. He was my personal life coach. I told him all my problems and he gave me solutions. This summer I started to get annoyed with Dave, because his advice for every problem was, "Jen, you need to have more faith!" That was not the answer I wanted to hear. How would increasing my faith get me scheduled to work 40 hours a week rather than 30? How would increasing my faith help me to decide what to major in? How would increasing my faith help me deal with some of the disappointments I was facing? I was so frustrated! 

One day I went for a run, and for some reason I was drawn to the St. George temple. I found a spot on the curb in front of the temple and sat there. After a minute or two my ipod began playing a familiar hymn, Be Still My Soul. For the first time the true meaning of the words struck me:

Be still, my soul: Thy God doth undertake
To guide the future as he has the past.
Thy hope, thy confidence let nothing shake;
All now mysterious shall be bright at last.

Skunked at Tony Grove

Sitting there, I was reminded of the lesson given by the first counselor in my stake presidency in relief society last spring. President Weaver told us that when his kids were younger he would buy each of them a lamb to raise for the 4-H auction every year. At the time they lived on several acres of land, so housing the lambs was not a problem. Because the lambs were so close, the children were able to spend a lot of time with them and develop a pretty good relationship. When it came time to show the lambs they were very comfortable with their care takers. 

One year, however, the Weavers sold their home and moved closer to town. They were not able to keep the lambs on their property, so they leased out a small piece of land a few miles down the road to house the livestock. This time around the lambs did not get as much attention from their keepers. One day President Weaver got a phone call from a friend to tell him the lambs had escaped. He quickly rounded up his children and drove out to find the roaming animals. Upon locating the lambs the children jumped out of the truck and tried to persuade them back to the gated pasture. The lambs resisted and even ran in the opposite direction. They did not gain the same trust the previous lambs had.

The same is true when developing a relationship with our Savior. Faith is not only a principle of belief, but of action as well. If we distance ourselves from Him we will not trust His gentle guidance. Therefore, increasing our faith is a matter of drawing near unto our Savior. Once we have developed a solid relationship with Him everything else will fall into place. In his General Conference address, Elder John H. Groberg said, "If we have faith in Him, we will repent and be baptized. If we do not repent, or refuse to be baptized, or are unwilling to keep His commandments, it is because we do not have sufficient faith in Him. Thus, repentance, baptism, and all other principles and ordinances are not entireley separate but are actually extensions of our faith in Christ. Without faith in Him, we do little of eternal value." 

The Savior had showed us time and time again that faith precedes the miracle. Just as the Children of Israel had to put their feet in the Jordan River before the waters parted we too must demonstrate our faith before receiving a witness. In a talk entitled, "Lord, Increase Our Faith", Elder John K. Carmack said, "If we place any condition on our willingness to serve the Lord with all our hearts, we diminish our faith. If we have complete trust in Him, our faith will increase, and that means the strength of our belief and our power to act will increase. We will not think we have done our duty and that is enough. We will continue with pure intent and total commitment the rest of our lives. ... Maintaining such an attitude is the way to increase our faith."  

I would never say this to his face, but yes, my boss was right. Increasing our faith can be solution to every problem. My faith led me to pay my tithing which blessed me with more than enough work throughout the entire summer. My faith humbled me and led me to the right major. My faith has brought me peace to deal with some of the hardships my family and I have had to endure recently. Faith does not pardon you from trials, but rather makes them easier to endure. 

I Really Need to Make Some Friends

Well, now that I live in Logan my social life has gone to pot. I know only a few people here in the Cache Valley so I have a lot of free time on my hands. In fact I was so bored the other day that I got out my old o chem text book and started writing out mechanisms for fun. Yikes. I did bust out my guitar and learn a few new songs. This clip is a little sampling of some of that action. I don't have the bridge down just yet, but give me an hour or so and I will have it mastered. 

Homeless

My truck filled with all of my stuff

Yes, it is true, I left the beauty of Southern Utah for the arctic tundra that is Cache Valley. Utah State begins classes on August 27th, but Walgreens needed me sooner than that, so I made it here 3 weeks early. My apartment complex lets students move in on the 20th, so that still left me 2 weeks of complete homelessness to deal with. I wanted to camp up the canyon, but my dad said that was not going to happen. So I made plans to live with a friend from Hurricane for those two weeks.

My glove box and its contents

On my way to Logan Monday morning I got a phone call from my friend letting me know they had car troubles and wouldn't make it to Logan until Tuesday. She offered to call around to find me a place to stay, but I assured her I could manage for one night. Upon hanging up I realized my dreams of being homeless were coming true. I was giddy with excitement. I started making plans. 

Fortunately I have a very bad habit of leaving things in my truck. You can call it lazy, but I call it self preservation. In my glove box you will find the normal things like my registration and proof of insurance, but you will also find a backpacking stove, fuel, a lighter, granola bars, beef jerky, oatmeal, and a bottle of water. Behind my seat I keep a large backpack, my smaller daypack, several freeze dried meals, a giant first aid kit, a sleeping bag, an entire case of water rolling around freely, a fishing pole, a small tackle box, and several old pair of running shoes. Inside my backpack I have a water filter, tea kettle, compass, tarp, and a healthy length of rope. 

I began considering my sleeping options. The bed of my truck was the ideal choice, but it was (and still is) filled to the brink with my things leaving no room for me. Okay, the next option would be to sleep in the cab of my truck. One problem. I am 6 feet tall, and my bench seat is a little more than 4 feet in length. No way I was going to do that to myself. The only option left would be to sleep out under the stars. As far as food and water was concerned I was in good shape. Most people would stop at the local grocery store for a loaf of bread or something, but not me. I was in self preservation mode and all those hours of watching "Man vs. Wild" were about to pay off. 

Behind the bench seat of my truck

I stopped in Provo to fuel my truck when I encountered a worn, old homeless man. He sat near a busy intersection with a sign propped up near his feet which said, "Anything will help."  His leathered face was turned down toward the sidewalk. His calloused hands were outstretched, waiting for a good samaritan to leave a gracious offering. Before the light turned green his sad eyes met my gaze. I gave him a half smile and thought, "I know how you feel, pal. We are two peas in a pod." 

I had only been in Logan for an hour when I got a phone call from my Mother. I don't know how she found out about my friend's car troubles, but the text I sent her which read, "Yay! I get to live in the canyon after all!" may have given it away. Rookie homeless mistake! After all my planning and preparation my parents got a roof over my head. I guess my homeless dreams will have to wait for another day. 

I'm Too Young For This

 Last Saturday was no different than any other Saturday. I woke up, threw my day pack together, laced up my shoes, and headed for Zion. Some friends and I hiked the Taylor Creek trail found in the Kolob Canyon section of Zion National Park. The hike in to the double arch alcove is an easy 2.7 miles following a little stream with very little change in elevation. The canyon does continue past the alcove, but hiking beyond that point is not recommended due to a steep landslide full of loose boulders.


We wanted a little more adventure, so we decided to continue up the canyon anyway and do some exploring. My friends often give me grief about my awkward climbing skills, so when we approached a short, fluted, rock I decided it was time to prove myself. I dropped my pack and started climbing. I was about 10 feet off the ground when my foot slipped and the cruel force of gravity shoved me back down to the canyon floor. Upon recovering from my fall I picked up my pack in silence and climbed around the rotten obstacle.


We hiked further until the canyon narrowed and became completely impassable. Trust me, I made a valiant effort to continue. On our return trip I took a nasty spill on a steep dirt landslide and tumbled a good 20 feet before getting the situation under control. Did my friends show any concern or offer help? No. They pulled out their cameras to capture photos of me in my moment of distress. I did, however, make it back to the trailhead in one piece.


Sunday morning I woke up and as I placed my feet on the floor I felt an ache in my ankles. I stood up and and my knees buckled. I took a few steps and my hips creaked. I bent down to pick up my shoes and my back screamed in protest. In a matter of 24 hours it felt as though my body had aged 30 years. Sure, the hike was rough, but I thought I still had a few good years left in me.


Over the past few days I have kept an eye out for other signs of premature aging, and I have been pretty disappointed with myself. Monday morning I caught myself spooning oatmeal into my mouth with one hand, managing my 401(k) with the other, while the voice of Mary Nickels told me of Utah's latest breaking news.  My top 25 most played songs in my iTunes library include ballads from Bing Crosby, The Kingston Trio, Michael Crawford, and Simon & Garfunkel. 9 times out of 10 I have my truck radio tuned to NPR. I am one spoonful of metamucil away from geezerdom! How did this happen to me? But more importantly, how do I fix it?