A Weekend Bonanza

On By Peter WatkinsIn 2011Leave a comment

Dear Will:

When my son Seth turned 12 in February, he was ordained a deacon. His best-friend-for-life, Cameron, was made a deacon around that same time. Since Cameron’s dad Warren and I are also good friends, he and I promised the boys we would take them to Salt Lake City to attend the Church’s semi-annual General Conference—our way of welcoming them into the priesthood. So it was that the four of us flew to Salt Lake last week in a four-seat Bonanza with Warren at the controls. The skies were clear and the weather was beautiful when we arrived—highs in the low 70s.

What a marvelous adventure! We had the sort of father/son bonding time that you would imagine and got to attend two of the five sessions of the conference in person. In the Priesthood session, we sat just a few rows back, directly in front of the Prophet and President of the Church, Thomas S. Monson. Through incredible good fortune, the boys even got to meet six of the twelve Apostles (a thrill as big for the dads as for the boys, I must admit). But the fun was just beginning.

On Sunday morning, we awoke to several inches of snow on the ground—which delighted the boys, of course. Because of the weather, we waited until late in the afternoon to begin the flight home. Although it was still snowing when we took off, we soon found ourselves with a clear, sun-washed view of the Salt Lake valley. I can’t describe to you how beautiful it was, with a fresh blanket of white snow covering the hills and mountains all around. It was truly glorious.

Then as we flew south through the Utah desert, the snow disappeared. Although I have driven through that rocky corridor many times, I had never gotten that bird’s-eye view before. (Commercial airlines fly too high, but in the Bonanza we were at 12,000 feet.) It was the perfect time of day for the flight: early evening, when the sun was casting wonderful shadows off of the red rocks, buttes and mesas of southern Utah. Indescribable.

As I looked out the window that evening, it occurred to me that the flight home provided an apt metaphor for General Conference. The weekend of Conference allowed us to rise above our usual cares and concerns and get a perspective on the things that truly matter. As servants of God, our leaders enabled us to see farther and more clearly as we look off toward a distant horizon. And the view they provided was truly glorious.

In case you’re interested, the Church posts the transcripts and video from the Conference online. You can find the whole proceedings here.

Here are some of my favorite talks from the Conference that I would highly recommend:

I would also encourage you to review any of the messages from President Monson. If you get a chance to do so, you will feel lifted above your present cares, and you too will gain clarity and perspective to help you deal with your day-to-day challenges.

PW

Looking on the Heart

On By Peter WatkinsIn 2011Leave a comment

Dear Will:

When I was in the second grade, Robert Maxwell and I were appointed by Mrs. Appleton as ball monitors at Mariposa Elementary. What that meant is that at the end of the last recess of the day, when all of the other kids were in class doing Reading Time or whatever they called it, Robert and I were roaming the playground, gathering up all of the balls and putting them away for the night. It was fun and cool at the same time, especially because it meant we got more playground time than anyone.

The trickiest task was detaching the tetherballs from their poles. We could barely reach the chains to which they were clipped, as I recall, so we had to give one another a boost to achieve our purpose. It’s hard to believe, to be honest, because I have since returned to Mariposa and noted with some surprise just how close to the ground those chains hang. Could I have really been that small when I was in Mrs. Appleton’s class?

I suppose it was a bit of a stretch (literally!) to assign two boys so small to that task. But what a terrific affirmation it proved to be. We were unsupervised, trusted to do an important job on behalf of the entire school. And although the chore itself was not especially difficult, it was useful to others and an important assignment for me. It caused me to think of myself in a slightly different light—as one who was worthy of trust and capable of representing others in a meaningful way.

I find myself thinking back to Mariposa School because my youngest son Seth turned 12 yesterday, which meant that today he received the Aaronic Priesthood and was ordained a deacon. His initial assignments as a priesthood-holder will not be especially difficult, but they will be of importance to others. He will be passing the sacrament to the congregation each Sunday, facilitating in this small way the renewal of eternal covenants and commitments. He will gather offerings on behalf of the poor and needy and return them to the bishop. And he will be given ongoing responsibility for the upkeep and care of the chapel in which we meet.

Seth admitted to me that he was unsure of whether he was ready and worthy to become a deacon. Our bishop, Bishop Hales, assured him that he was and authorized his ordination—and you can already see that it is having an impact on my son. He was nervous and excited as he anticipated this day, as I’m sure he will be next week when he passes the sacrament for the first time. As he grows increasingly comfortable with his duties, however, I think we will witness a maturation made possible by his acceptance of the authority to serve others in the name of God.

You may recall that when David was anointed King of Israel, he was young and unimpressive compared to his older brothers. The Lord gently chided Samuel the prophet for not seeing in David the divine potential that lay within. “Look not on his countenance,” the Lord told him, “or on the height of his stature; . . . for the Lord seeth not as man seeth; for man looketh on the outward appearance, but the Lord looketh on the heart” (1 Samuel 16:7).

Likewise my son isn’t much to look at (he’s only 12, after all). But today he was set apart from most boys his age because of the goodness in his heart. Although he’ll be stretched in the years ahead as he works to fulfill his duties, and although he’ll need a boost from time to time to complete his assignments, I’m confident that he will prove to be more than worthy of the trust that has been placed in him. I’m proud of who he is and what he is becoming, and pleased that others have seen in him the divine potential that makes him, in my view, extraordinary.

PW

Little Did I Know

On By Peter WatkinsIn 20112 Comments

Dear Will:

Today I took a 6-mile hike through Peters Canyon. Although I have hiked there many times, this was the first time that I walked the full loop.

I couldn’t have picked a nicer day for a hike: clear, blue skies, a light breeze, weather in the low seventies. It was glorious. And although the trail was busy, it was not so crowded that I couldn’t enjoy a little solitude and the chance to be alone with my thoughts for a couple of hours. I thought about my children and their various challenges. I thought about my great wife and the many ways that she blesses our family. I thought about the weeks and months ahead and some of the difficult decisions we’ll be facing.

And of course I thought about my health. Today was a bit of an experiment—an extended hike following several months of forced inactivity. But over the last 30 days or so, I have really been feeling good—like myself again—good enough to take on a long hike and not worry that the paramedics would have to rendezvous with me at the trailhead. And I’m proud to say that I completed the trek without the assistance of the medi-vac unit.

It used to be that when someone asked “How are you?” I would respond “Fine” and give it no further thought. But now when people ask, I tell them I feel great. I don’t necessarily feel a lot better than I used to, but I have come to appreciate the profound blessing of vigor and energy that I previously took for granted. I have experienced firsthand why it is that “it must needs be that there is an opposition in all things” (2 Nephi 2:11). After all, without bad health, how could I ever truly understand what it means to be healthy? There was the time a few weeks back when (I kid you not) I watched an elderly man walked nonchalantly across a waiting room and thought, “You have no idea how fortunate you are.” Now when I walk casually across that same room, I notice. Imagine.

When I first learned of my cancer back in August, I shared with you the poem “Pied Beauty” by Gerard Manley Hopkins—a poem in which the poet glorifies God for “dappled things . . . With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim.” I shared it in advance of any real physical challenges.

Little did I know. Now I sit here cancer-free, having been hospitalized four times, with seven new scars on my abdomen and anti-coagulants running through my body, and I appreciate the poem more than ever. For I have since tasted the sour; I’ve seen the dim. And having done so, I am so much more grateful for the sweet, so much more dazzled by the light.

Walking the trails in Peters Canyon is a small thing—something I thought little about in my previous visits. But today, as I stood high atop the East Rim Trail and looked out over the reservoir and the eucalyptus, as I walked the Creek Trail and delighted in the cool riparian habitat created by the ground-fed stream, as I felt whole again, pain-free, normal even, I finally understood what prompted Hopkins to close his poem like this: “He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change: Praise him.”

Praise Him indeed.

PW