Author: Peter Watkins

“Why Should I Ask God?”

On By Peter WatkinsIn 2004Leave a comment

Dear Will:

My wife Dana and I have been grappling with a difficult decision in recent weeks, one which for years to come will have a rather powerful impact on Luke (our eldest)—and on our whole family for that matter. Because Dana and I are both smart enough to know how little we really know, it seemed like a good idea to us to make the decision a subject of fasting and prayer to see if maybe we could get God’s help in sorting it all out. He knows what’s best for us, we figure, and so why not try to get Him to tell us?

Thus resolved, we invited Luke to join us in our quest for spiritual insight, assuming that he would do so without much prodding. But this was another of those times in which a teenager zigged just when Mom and Dad figured he would zag. “I already know what I think I should do, so why should I ask God?” he explained. “Even if he gives me a different answer, I’m going to do what I want anyway.”

His honesty was refreshing even if his attitude was not. Try as we might, we were unable to persuade him that it would be helpful to know ahead of time if he were about to embark on the wrong course of action. As all of this was taking place, I was reminded of a time when I was—get this—about his age, a time when I did not want to ask God for guidance for fear that, once informed, I would be held accountable for whatever He told me. I was familiar enough with the implications of religious living, and I was not yet prepared to commit. So while I wish Luke had a little less hubris, I have a hunch I know where he got it. (Don’t you just hate that?)

I don’t believe that Luke is particularly unique in this regard. The world is full of people who live strictly by their own counsel—we all do from time to time, I suppose. Likewise, our history books are rife with those who have risen and fallen based almost solely on their own cunning. But what I hope for Luke—and anyone else similarly inclined—is that the day will come when he feels the need for help from One wiser and more powerful than he, and that when that moment arrives he will know where to turn and do so with appropriate humility.

Fortunately, as our family struggles onward, help is on its way. This weekend the Church will be holding its semi-annual General Conference, and we’ll have the chance to hear from our prophet, Gordon B. Hinckley.  It’s the next best thing to hearing from God Himself, but I’m hoping that my son might pay attention since it will be coming to him through the TV screen. In my view, it’s a chance for him to get an answer to questions he has not yet been willing to ask.

Who knows if it will really work that way for him. I can tell you this, though. It often works that way for me, which is why General Conference weekend is always one of my favorites. If nothing else, maybe it will provide me some insight on how to be a better father. God knows I need that. Besides, I’m sure there are plenty of questions which I have not yet asked for which God, through his servants, has already prepared an answer. Now the only remaining question: When He tells me—as surely He will—what am I going to do about it?

PW

Two Swarthy Things

On By Peter WatkinsIn 2004Leave a comment

Dear Will:

Tomorrow is my son Seth’s 5th birthday. He has declared that to celebrate this big event we must go to Ruby’s for dinner. Ruby’s is his favorite restaurant for two appropriately 5-year-old reasons: 1) they serve macaroni & cheese; and 2) every kid’s meal comes with a toy. Inasmuch as his other favorite place is McDonald’s, I think Ruby’s is a fine choice.

The real birthday celebration took place last Saturday when Seth and 10 of his pals gathered for the Pirate Party of the Century. As usual, my wife Dana was in charge, which guaranteed two things: 1) the affair would be over-planned, the loot bags overflowing; and 2) the kids would have a deliriously good time. Because of the theme, I had to stop shaving for a week (don’t you love those rare occasions when sloth becomes virtuous?) and sport a do-rag for 3 hours on a Saturday afternoon. We planned to hold the big bash at the Atlantis Play Center in Garden Grove, a public park which includes, among other things, a slide that looks like a dragon and a pretend sailing ship—the perfect place to fire the imaginations of our little buccaneers.

Provided, that is, that it didn’t rain.

Well, as luck would have it, it did rain, which meant two things: 1) anyone going down the dragon slide was going to end up with a wet bum (yes, there were some tears shed over that little blast of reality); and 2) we had the place literally to ourselves. We were able to stay dry for the most part thanks to the protection of a pavilion which was abandoned to our benefit by another group less hearty than ours. Fortunately, the rain was never really heavy, so when we did venture out into the park (for the obligatory treasure hunt, for example) the kids held up pretty well. Considering the disaster that might have been ours had it really poured, we were pretty lucky—smug even that what we ended up with acres of essentially private park.

What fun it was to see the delight in those children. Dana outfitted each one with a pirate hat, a hook (of course), an eye patch, a cutlass, a bandana with the jolly roger, and just for good measure, a stuffed parrot. They even got fake mustaches. Very scary indeed. Had you seen our swarthy crew (at least, I think that they were swarthy—what’s that mean, anyway?) you would have turned over your gold doubloons on the spot, especially had they let loose with a terrifying “Aaaaar!” (which they did, I should mention, with great frequency). Once they were fully decked out, two things were certain: 1) no buried treasure in the park was safe; and 2) most of those fake mustaches would be in the trash before the day was over.

Needless to say, we’re glad it’s over, and pleased to see that Seth was so pleased. I share this with you for two reasons: 1) I thought it was fun to tell about; and 2) because I knew you’d be disappointed if I didn’t end this letter with two reasons.

How are things with you? Drop me a note some time. I’d love to hear from you.

PW

Serious Goofing Off

On By Peter WatkinsIn 2004Leave a comment

Dear Will:

The new year brings with it a new routine for my Sundays. Because our ward shares its smallish building with another, we must alternate between the 9 a.m. to noon schedule and the 1 p.m. to 4 p.m. This year it’s our turn to congregate in the afternoon, and frankly I don’t like it.

I like having church in the morning. By noon, I can slip into some sweats and loll about with the kids or visit family in a nearby town. Having to postpone our meetings until after lunch just seems to throw of the rhythm of the day for me.

Still, I must admit that there is something to be said for having the morning off. This morning I didn’t flop out of bed until 7:30—decadent self-indulgence given my usual 5:30 a.m. alarm setting. After showering I came downstairs and discovered Bryn (she’s my nine-year-old) giving Seth (who’s 4) a piano lesson. It wasn’t going well, frankly, but the scene was charming nonetheless. After spending a few minutes with the morning paper, I threw some food in the crockpot (pork, sweet potatoes, and onions—yum) and then set to work on the French toast with homemade apple syrup. We didn’t eat breakfast until after 9 a.m., but the pace was marvelously unhurried. Around here, that’s a rare thing indeed.

After breakfast, I played Monopoly with Luke while his siblings cheered us on (my three houses on Boardwalk did him in) and then watched as the youngest two skipped out the door to take Barnum (the monster dog) for a walk. About that time I could hear my wife stirring upstairs. She has been fighting a bronchial infection but is always so crazy busy that she doesn’t get nearly enough rest. So it was that, guilt-free (well, almost) she slept and slept and slept. It was what she needed most, I’m sure.

And so I sit down to tap out this letter to you, reminded that it was a long, long time ago that God gave Moses (and the rest of us) this excellent counsel:

Remember the sabbath day, to keep it holy. Six days shalt thou labour, and do all thy work: But the seventh day is the sabbath of the LORD thy God: in it thou shalt not do any work, thou, nor thy son, nor thy daughter, thy manservant, nor thy maidservant, nor thy cattle, nor thy stranger that is within thy gates: For in six days the LORD made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that in them is, and rested the seventh day: wherefore the LORD blessed the sabbath day, and hallowed it. (Exodus 20:8-11)

Isn’t it great that God not only gave us permission, but a commandment, to take a day off to veg out and spend unhurried, unharried time with family? I don’t think I could get through my week without it. It provides therapy for both the body and the spirit. I highly recommend it.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some serious goofing off to do.

PW