"Dad, the Cookies Didn't Turn Out!"

September 16, 2012
"Dad, the Cookies Didn't Turn Out!"


A couple of weeks ago on a Sunday evening, I was in my bedroom waiting to go down for the night. Jackie poked her head through the doorway, and in a matter of fact tone, said, "Dad, the cookies didn't turn out!" Those words went like a dagger into my heart! Now, I have learned to deal with paralysis and living on life support but to not have Jackie's warm chocolate chip cookies with ice cold milk on a Sunday evening is just almost more than I can endure. I consider it to be true adversity and bordering on "Quad Abuse."

Jackie, our youngest daughter, her husband Nathan Brown, and their two daughters, Halley, and Coralee, have been living with us for several years while Nathan completed his BA degree at Cal State Fullerton which he has now accomplished. I'm afraid they will be moving on soon. We will miss Nathan and Jackie, but we really wish they could leave the two little granddaughters behind. They have sort of woven themselves into our heartstrings.

Beginning as a young girl Jackie began to make great chocolate chip cookies. Her skill has only increased with the passage of time. I don't know a lot about many things but I am a connoisseur of chocolate chip cookies. I know when I am eating a superior cookie and Jackie's are gold-medal good. Maybe you can now better understand the pain I felt that Sunday evening.

As I thought about Jackie's statement about the cookies not turning out, and the way it made me feel, I began to contemplate how powerful words are in evoking an entire spectrum of emotions within us, ranging from unhappiness, frustration, fear, terror, despair, and depression, to joy, peace, hope, faith, and etc. We are all either speaking words or hearing words most of our waking hours. There are a few words I can speak to Jo Anne that I am sure are very frustrating or depressing, like, "It's going into extra innings!" Or, "Can you believe it, it's gone into overtime!" I also get the feeling that I am testing her patience a tad, when I call her for the umpteenth time to come and reboot my computer. Jo Anne is not a great sports fan and after one BYU football game several years ago in which both teams scored over 50 points, she commented, "That's an awfully lot of home runs isn't it?" I agreed with her that it certainly was an awfully lot of home runs.

At times, while shopping with her, endlessly going up and down the aisles, I finally get up enough courage to foolishly ask her if she knows what she is looking for. With a frown on her face which communicates to me what a dumb question I have asked, she says "I'm not sure, but when I see it I will know it." This statement always elicits a feeling of hopelessness in my heart. I guess justice is served however, for my "extra innings," and "overtime" statements.

Jo Anne is one of the most creative speakers of the English language that I know. Sales persons in shoe stores get a glazed look on their faces when she announces, "Show me the least inexpensive shoes you have." At a family gathering, I believe a grandchild made quite a profound statement and Jo Anne said, "I believe that is what we call a "Double Nintendo." Her statement continues to live on in the family memory and was the highlight of the evening.

Recently I was reading an article written by Susan Smiley, PhD, about the power of words. One of her ideas I felt to be so very true. "I once read that a word is like a living organism, capable of growing, changing, spreading, and influencing the world in many ways, directly and indirectly through others. I never thought about a word being 'alive' but then I thought of words spoken 3,000 years ago, written down and passed through many generations, and they seem quite alive when read or spoken today, having lived 3,000 years. As I ponder the power of the word to incite and divide, to calm and connect, or to create and effect change, I am ever more cautious in what I say and how I listen to the words around me."

As I read her statement I couldn't help but think of the words of Alma as he left his position as chief judge of the Nephites to go out among his people to hopefully reclaim their souls. "And now, as the preaching of the word had a great tendency to clead the people to do that which was just—yea, it had had more powerful effect upon the minds of the people than the sword, or anything else, which had happened unto them—therefore Alma thought it was expedient that they should try the virtue of the word of God." [Alma 31:5] I thought of how powerful a single word or short sentence of Scripture can be in communicating eternal truths that can create feelings of "awesome wonder," comfort, faith, peace, joy, and even sorrow at times.

For example (and there are literally thousands of course that could be mentioned) what a feeling of gratitude wells up in my heart when I read the brief sentence, "Here am I, send me!" [Abraham 3:27] Never have so few words impacted the lives and destiny of so many. And then I am equally filled with "awesome wonder" and gratitude even while not fully comprehending "… and would that I might not drink the bitter cup, and shrink— Nevertheless, glory be to the Father, and I partook and finished my preparations unto the children of men." [D&C 19:18-19]

There are many one sentence or one line passages of Scripture that have nourished, sustained, and filled me with a "perfect brightness of hope" over the years. I'm sure this is the case also with many of you. Below are just a few that have been such a blessing in my life. "I have learned in whatsoever state I am to be content." (Philippians 4:11) "I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me." (Philippians 4:13) "… Without me ye can do nothing." [John 15:5] "… I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith…" [2 Timothy 4:7] "… Press forward with a steadfastness in Christ… Feasting upon the words of Christ…" [2 Nephi 31:20] "… thine afflictions and adversity shall be but a small moment… And then if thou endure it well, God shall exalt thee on high…" [D&C 121:7-8] "Be patient in afflictions, for thou shalt have many, but endure them, for lo I am with thee, even unto the end of thy days." [D&C 24:8]

By now I have probably worn you out, but the powerful words I have quoted mean everything to me and have helped sustain me through a difficult journey. There are many others as well that have blessed me, but I have probably worn out my welcome by now. Yes, there is great power in words to bless and to even change lives.

If any of you feel so inclined I would enjoy, and I am sure benefit from, some special one-liner or one sentence statements from the Scriptures that have personally impacted your lives. If you have read this far thank you for your patience, love and support for so many years.

Dad/Grandpa/Jack

The Least of These II

In the midst of a heated discussion – we never quarrel – Jo Anne has been known to reach over and pull off my air hose for a brief moment or two just as I am about to make my winning argument. My son Mike, the judge, would undoubtedly say this is an obvious case of "Quad Abuse." I have thought on these occasions that maybe this was going to be my "Last Lecture" in mortality.

Years ago at BYU the University sponsored a lecture series entitled "The Last Lecture," which I was fortunate enough to attend. Prominent people in various disciplines and careers were invited to come to the campus and speak to the student body as though it were to be the last public lecture they would ever give.

Many of you have also undoubtedly heard of Randy Pausch, a professor of computer science and human-computer interaction and design at the prestigious Carnegie-Mellon University in Pittsburgh. Diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, which would prove to be terminal, he spent the last year or two of his life delivering what he called his "Last Lecture." He eventually had a book published with the same title that became a bestseller. It was a distillation of all he felt was important in his life that he wanted to pass on to his young children, former students and colleagues, and many others as well. He passed away at the relative young age of 48.

I believe "The Last Lecture" concept is most valuable. It has made me think over the years what I would say, especially to my own family, were I to deliver to them my final words regarding what I felt to be most important for me and for them.

As I have thought about this concept, I wondered if the Savior had given a last lecture, and if he had, what last message did He leave with us? What message would capture the essence of his mortal ministry and eternal mission?

I believe the answer to those questions is found in the Gospel of Matthew wherein Matthew records the Savior's last public lecture. Of course we know that Jesus spent some sacred time teaching precious truths to his Apostles during and after the Last Supper, prior to entering the Garden of Gethsemane,

According to Matthew the Savior's last public lecture is recorded in chapter 25 of his Gospel. In this last lecture He taught three parables, all of which pertain to His Second Coming: the Ten Virgins, the Talents, and the Sheep and the Goats. I believe that It is the parable of the Sheep and the Goats that captures the essence of who He is and what he would have us do and become as well.

In the parable, when the king, who is the Savior, returns to judge the nations "…he shall set the sheep on his right hand, but the goats on the left. Then shall the King say unto them on his right hand, Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world:" [25:33-34]

We all know why the Sheep were called the "blessed of the Father," and would inherit the kingdom prepared for them from "the foundation of the world." They had simply followed the example of Christ in giving selfless service to others –"…Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me." [25:40]

And who were the "least of these?" They were the sick, the hungry, the naked, the thirsty, the stranger, and even those in prison. In one sense we are all strangers, naked, hungry, and thirsty; the "least of His brethren." We all are in desperate need of his infinite love and mercy manifest through the Atonement.

His "last lecture" to us I believe is that the most important thing we can do in our lives is to follow His example of unselfish service. President Monson in addressing the BYU student body recently challenged them by saying, “An attitude of love characterized the mission of the Master, He gave sight to the blind, legs to the crippled, life to the dead. Perhaps when we [face] our Maker, we will not be asked, ‘How many positions did you hold?’ but rather, ‘How many people did you help?’ In reality, you can never love the Lord until you serve Him by serving His people." [From Elder Oaks 2009 April Gen. conference address] 

Our 20-year-old granddaughter, Kelsey Rushton, the son of Rich and Lara, for those of you who know our family, has taken to heart the words and example of the Savior, as well as the counsel and example of a living prophet, seer, and revelator. She, along with 19 other young adults went to Uganda, Africa at the beginning of May to spend four months serving some of the "least of these" in small villages in the rural areas of Uganda. This selfless service undertaking is sponsored by a nonprofit organization called HELP International. It is nondenominational and its sole mission is to provide humanitarian service and aid to some of the least of these our brothers and sisters in Africa and throughout the world. Kelsey and her friends have worked with children in orphanages, have built a health clinic out of mud/adobe bricks they helped to make, and have served the people in these villages in many other ways as well. It should also be noted that they have had the opportunity to river raft and take a short Safari. Kelsey's blog, "Kelsey's summer in Africa," (some of you may want to check it out – very inspirational) is overflowing with gripping pictures and expressions of the joy and fulfillment she is receiving in having this experience of serving others in this way. I know that it will impact her life forever. Parenthetically, her younger brother Trevor, who is a senior in high school this fall, was able to organize and implement an Eagle Scout project which included raising funds and gathering together soccer equipment that he subsequently was able to take to Belize (a country adjacent to Honduras in Central America). He was able to give the equipment, including soccer shoes which are hard to come by in that country, to impoverished young kids, and work with them to improve their soccer skills. I believe that Trevor, like his sister, has experienced the joy of giving selfless service to others. It will have an impact for good on him, and hopefully will just be the beginning of selfless service which he will continue to give in the mission field and throughout his lifetime.

Of course, we don't need to go to Africa or Central America to serve "the least of these." I love what Mother Teresa of Calcutta said about having devoted her life to selflessly serving the poorest of the poor and the very least in their society in India. She taught that “one thing will always secure heaven for us—the acts of charity and kindness with which we have filled our lives. “We can do no great things, “only small things with great love.” [From Elder Oaks April conference address, 2009]

I think of mothers who do countless small things with love for their little babies and children. I believe that these small acts of kindness and charity, which "never faileth," will surely "secure heaven for them." I also think of my wife, family members, and many good friends and caregivers who have done so many small things, and with love, for me over the years. I frequently say I have been kept alive for 23 years, paralyzed and on life support, by love., The nagging thought I have in my mind at times is if a beloved family member or friend were in my situation would I do for them the small things, and with love, that must be done on a daily basis to provide them with the highest quality-of-life possible? I wish I knew the answer to that.

“He who lives only unto himself withers and dies, while he who forgets himself in the service of others grows and blossoms in this life and in eternity." [Gordon B. Hinckley]

Dad/Grandpa/Jack

"I have no man…[to help me]…"

I was glued to the TV like many of you, I am sure, the evening Nick Wallenda walked a third of a mile across Niagara Falls from the United States side to the Canadian side on a 2 inch steel cable. We may question his sanity risking his life in this way, but there is also, I believe, much to be admired and even learned from his daring feat.

It took two years of intense planning to accomplish his goal. He had trained for most of his life to walk the wire across Niagara Falls. We may question having that kind of goal, but for him it was an important part of his life. It was not just wishful thinking on his part, for along with his dream went meticulous, detailed planning and self-discipline that made the vision and dream a reality.

As I watched him, I was impressed by his calm demeanor and confidence, which I believe came to him through his detailed and profound preparation. And yet at the same time, I sensed his humility and lack of being arrogant and overconfident. I could hardly believe my eyes as I watched what he was doing.

I think the thing that struck a chord with me the most however, is when he was in the midst of the mist with the wind swirling around him, and he was all alone. No man could help him get out of the mist and wind and across the cable to safety.

I know, as many as you also know how frightening it is to realize that you are all alone with no one to help you through your challenging and often times frightening circumstance. It was then I heard him seeking help from the only source available to him on the 2 inch cable, dangerously dangling 20 stories above Niagara Falls. Nick began praying fervently to God and to the Savior to help him get to the other side safely and not let him plunge into the menacing chasm and certain death that lurked below him in the blackness of the night.

What a personal reminder and lesson this heartfelt prayer was to me personally. We really need never feel we are alone if we have faith in a loving Heavenly Father, and in the power of prayer. Sometimes we need to be reminded of this great truth.

Because of my own mobility impaired circumstances, I am attracted to the Savior's healing miracles of those who were paralyzed and crippled. One of my favorite healing miracles took place at the Pool of Bethesda, as recorded by John in chapter 5 of his gospel. A man who had been severely “mobility impaired” for 38 years of his life, was approached by Jesus as he lay by the side of the Pool. The tradition was that an angel had "troubled" the water at some point in time and ever after it would periodically bubble up spontaneously each day. The tradition was that the first person into the Pool after the "troubling" of the water would be healed. Let's read some of John's beautiful account of what transpired: "And a certain man was there, which had an infirmity thirty and eight years. When Jesus saw him and knew that he had been now a long time in that case, he saith unto him, Wilt thou be made whole? The impotent man answered him, Sir, I have no man, when the water is troubled, to put me into the pool: but while I am coming, another steppeth down before me. Jesus saith unto him Rise, take up thy bed, and walk. And immediately the man was made whole, and took up his bed, and walked…" [John 5:5-9]

Several things are important to me in John's account. He saw the crippled man and knew he had been in that condition for a long time. He knows everything! That is comforting to me personally. I like to think he knows I have been in my condition for a long time. He, of course, knew that the paralyzed man wanted to be healed, but that he didn't know how to go about bringing that miracle into his life. The man could only say, "I have no man [to help me into the water so that I can be healed.]" At this time in his life he was totally dependent upon the "arm of flesh." And then comes the great lesson (for me anyway) "Rise, take up thy bed and walk!" The paralyzed man was alone in the sense that no mortal would help him into the water so that he could be healed, so he thought. The Savior taught him, and all of us who have read this account down through the centuries, that we are never really alone. We are not entirely dependent upon others or "the troubling of the waters" to help us through our challenging times, as long as we have faith in our Heavenly Father and in the infinite atonement of His Beloved Son in our behalf.

Thankfully, I learned this important lesson as a young missionary in November, 1958 in a small Mayan Indian village in Guatemala, which was nestled high in the mountains in the middle of a magnificent Ponderosa Pine forest. I went there after spending only one week in the mission home in Salt Lake City. In those days, there was no two months of language training at the MTC. After spending just one night in the mission home in Guatemala City, I was sent to this little village. To say I experienced cultural shock is the understatement of the century. The room in which we lived had no windows and large rats lived within its walls, chirping to each other all night long. I didn't know what they were talking about but it made me feel very uneasy. The cockroaches were huge and as soon as the lights were out you could hear them skittering across the floor and up and down the walls. There were "Moby Fleas" that seemed to be so happy that I had come to Guatemala to visit them. I was terribly homesick and physically sick as well, with the beginning of amoebic dysentery. I had never been that miserable in all my life. My companion was just finishing his 2 1/2 year mission; he would go home within the month, and was not very sympathetic to my puny sufferings. He was the only person in the village that spoke English and he would only speak to me in Spanish. I had never felt so alone.

After about a week, I woke up in the middle of the night, extremely sick, and had to get to the bathroom as quickly as I could. The bathroom was on the other side of our patio. I made a mad dash across the patio to the bathroom, forgetting that a clothesline was strung across the length of the patio. Running as fast as I could, the clothesline caught me across the neck and threw me on my back to the patio's tiled floor. I didn't make it to the bathroom, to say the least! As I lay there on my back staring up into that beautiful moonlit Guatemala sky, I cried out, "If only my dad could see me now, he would send me an airplane ticket so that I could come home. He would never let one of his sons live under these horrible conditions in this miserable village and country!" And then the thought came into my mind that my dad was at least 3000 miles away and couldn't help me. I realized also that no one in the village, not even my companion, could help me either. And so I rolled over onto my hands and knees and offered the most heartfelt prayer I had ever offered up to that time in my life. I needed help! I just couldn't go on this way and I knew it. By the time I cleaned up and got into bed I was a different young man. I didn't see an angel or hear an audible voice, but I was immersed in the Spirit to such an extent that I was filled with peace and the knowledge that I could not just endure one night in Guatemala, but many nights and many years if need be. That night I learned I need never feel again that I was alone!

Through the years, that knowledge has helped me deal with a number of challenging circumstances that have come into my life. The feelings of loneliness and despair I felt when a neurosurgeon gave my family and I his prognosis regarding my future cannot be adequately expressed. He told us that I would never be able to move my body again, breathe again on my own, speak, eat solid food, or live outside a care facility as long as I lived. But I knew because of what had happened to me in November, 1958, in a little Indian village, that as dark and fearsome as the future looked, I knew I was not alone and somehow, with HIS help, my family and I would get through this.

I am convinced that if we have sufficient faith in Christ and the power of prayer we can never truthfully say, "I have no man to help me…"

Dad/Grandpa/Jack

"Tell Me Something Good"

One of my favorite authors is Charles Dickens. His opening lines in "A Tale of Two Cities," I believe, captures the essence of what most people have experienced from the beginning of time. "It was the best of times. It was the worst of times. It was the season of hope. It was the season of despair. We had everything before us. We had nothing before us."

Life ebbs and flows for all of us. I think the universal challenge we face is while in the midst of those "worst of times," and our "seasons of despair" we all inevitably experience, is to realize it can also be the "best of times," and the "season of hope." It all depends on how we choose to look at and interpret what is going on in our individual lives.

A number of years ago, Barbara Johnson wrote a beautiful little book entitled "Pain Is Inevitable, Misery Is Optional." I believe it was her way of saying what Dickens said in the opening lines of his book. So much depends upon how we choose to look at our life's experiences.

A couple of weeks ago my friend, Larry Barrett, sent me an article written by Michael Jordan Segal. Mike Segal works at a level I Trauma facility trying to encourage the patients who live there, most suffering from serious and life-changing physical, emotional, and mental problems. Mike himself had been shot in the head as a younger man, had been able to recover completely, and has devoted his life since then to lifting and encouraging the patients in the trauma center. Whenever he sees one of the patients, instead of saying hello, or how are you doing, he says "Tell me something good!" One elderly gentleman who was quite far gone looked at Mike when asked that question and in a weak voice said, "Peanut Butter." Mike pushed the gentleman a bit to encourage him to tell him something good about himself. The patient replied, "I want to eat a peanut butter sandwich." He apparently liked peanut butter! Another patient responded to his question by saying, "I woke up."

There is so much wrong with all of us and with the world that I think Mike's question is so very important. I am sure we have all had days when it would take a lot of soul-searching and introspection to come up with an answer to someone who would say to us, "Tell me something good." I was in a rehabilitation hospital a month or so after my accident, flat on my back, and starring up at the acoustical tile on the ceiling and counting the holes. Suddenly my older brother, Darrel, appeared at my bedside and looking down at me said, "Jake, now that you can't do anything, what do you like to do the best?" No, he didn't say, "Tell me something good," but at that time in my recovery the only "something good" I could get out was, "I like to breathe!" My answer was about as profound and insightful as "Peanut Butter," but it was truthful.

The other day I had occasion to be talking to a woman who is having some serious health issues. She is not that old and is really struggling to deal with what is happening to her. During the course of our conversation the thought came to me to try Mike Segal's question on her. I said, "Tell me something good." With a surprised look on her face she thought for just a second and then said, "I can walk." She then began to tell me some other good things about her life. Even if it may have been for just a minute or two, I could tell that her telling me something good made her feel good.

I believe a challenge many of us face is to be able to tell ourselves something good about ourselves. Most of us are painfully aware of our weaknesses and most nauseating characteristics. Especially in our individual seasons of despair, we need to look for something good.

I believe this is why I love so much being able to give patriarchal blessings. To me, a patriarchal blessing is a gift of love that Heavenly Father desires each of his children to have. In the blessing, he reveals to us who we really are and what our infinite potential is as his sons and daughters. I have been privileged to give blessings to nine-year-olds and 89-year-olds and all ages in between over the years. A wonderful thing happens as I give the blessing. Regardless of their chronological age in mortality, they are seen and blessed in that moment as infinite and eternal sons and daughters of God – they are ageless. The Lord, through patriarchs, truly does "tell us something good."

In our "worst of times," it might be helpful to read our blessings to be reminded of how the Lord sees us. The Scriptures are replete with examples of great men and women, who if asked "tell me something good" in the midst of their difficult and dire circumstances, might like Job, whom I have chosen to represent them all, only be able to say, "I know that my Redeemer liveth!" However dark our circumstances may look to us, when asked, "Tell me something good," if it isn't peanut butter, or just waking up, or walking, or breathing, hopefully like Job or Nephi, the "something good" we should always be able to tell is, "Rejoice, O my heart, and cry unto the Lord, and say: O Lord, I will praise thee forever; yea, my soul will rejoice in thee, my God, and the rock of my salvation." [2 Nephi 4:30]

Dad/Grandpa/Jack

"Look with Optimism, Work with Faith"

May 4, 2012
"Look with Optimism, Work with Faith"

Over the years I have been blessed by Jo Anne's ability to "look with optimism while working with faith. At times when I may feel that there is no light at the end of the tunnel, and the hurdle before me is simply too high to clear, she seems to always be able to look forward with optimism working hard with unwavering faith to resolve the problem.

I will never forget the night we arrived in Provo for me to speak at Education Week beginning the next day. We had traveled all day from Southern California and it was approaching midnight when we finally pulled into the hotel parking lot. We all were absolutely exhausted from the long trip. We had made arrangements in advance for our medical supply company to deliver a hospital bed to the hotel. The night desk clerk was very sleepy and when we inquired about the bed he had a sickening blank look on his face. He seemed to know nothing about a hospital bed. My heart sank not knowing what we could possibly do without the bed. Jo Anne quickly woke the night clerk up however, I don't think you would want to know how, and he soon found the hospital bed that had been delivered before he came on shift. He got the bed on an elevator and eventually into our room. The bed had some problems – I won't go into detail – but they looked insurmountable to me, and again my heart sank. Within a few moments however, in her nightgown, on hands and knees, with pliers, screwdriver,, and wrenches, she attacked the problem and it was soon resolved. I like to carry that picture of Jo Anne in my mind and in my heart, because to me it captures the essence of her faith, optimism, and practical approach to solving seemingly unsolvable problems. Not only does she look with optimism, she also knows she must WORK with faith.

I am not totally bereft of the qualities of looking with optimism and working with faith, although I don't think I measure up to Jo Anne with regard to those attributes. The Lord has given me many opportunities during my lifetime to exercise my agency to choose to look with optimism and to work with faith when faced with difficulties. I know that all of you have also been given many such opportunities as well. I think it is part of the Lord's tutoring and customized curriculum for each one of us.

A few years ago I developed a bad pressure sore – an infected ulcer – on my bottom. When it was finally discovered, the doctors indicated it would take months for it to heal. The main cure for a pressure sore is not to sit on it which meant I would be in bed, 24/7 for as many months as it would take for the sore to heal. It turned out that it would take almost 8 months for it to properly heal. When I first got the news from the doctors that I would have to stay in bed in order for the pressure sore to heal, I just felt that it was too much. It was hard enough to be paralyzed and not be able to move any part of my body, but now to not even be able to get out of bed was such depressing news I didn't think I could handle it. I was tempted to assume the fetal position, close my eyes, and just lay there in misery with the hopes that soon I could pass on into the Spirit World.  Thankfully, those feelings only lasted a couple of hours.

As I lay there I was reminded of an experience I had on my mission that prepared me, without me realizing it then, to endure and make the most of being paralyzed. After two years in Central America, working most of the time in Guatemala among the Mayan Indians, I became sick with infectious hepatitis. Today I would have been sent home because of the nature of the sickness. I had six months yet to serve, and desperately wanted to complete my mission. My mission president sent me to a private hospital in Guatemala City, the mission had just started to use. Under the expert, loving and competent care of Dr. Herrera I was immediately placed in isolation because I was infectious – no roommate, no TV, just me. Although I didn't realize it at the time, I would be in bed for the next 43 days without my feet ever touching the floor. The doctor lent me a little radio and showed me how to tune in the only classical music station in all of Guatemala I believe. My mission president sent me books to read, including the Scriptures. I prayed, listened to classical music, read constantly, and was blessed with the ability to discipline myself to do so.

The hospital stay was a turning point, not only in my mission but in my life as well. I was blessed to be able to choose to look with optimism and work with faith during those 43 days of total isolation from the world. When I finally left the hospital I had a fire burning within me to teach the gospel. Thankfully, that fire has never been extinguished. The last six months of my mission exceeded anything I could have ever envisioned with regard to teaching opportunities and convert baptisms. Now, many years later as I lay in my hospital bed, paralyzed and unable to move any part of my body, I remembered my Guatemala City hospital experience. I determined that I would make of this experience in bed with an infected pressure sore, a growing and spiritual experience like I was able to do as a young 20-year-old missionary.

My family helped to rig up my laptop computer in such a way that it was positioned above my face so that I could see the monitor, and with my headset and microphone attached to my head, I was able to use my voice recognition software to work on the computer. I would start working about 10 AM every morning and work until around five or 6 PM. I refused to watch TV until after I had completed my work on the computer for the day. It turned out to be one of the most productive times in my life, as a "normal" walking around person, a paralyzed person in a wheelchair, or a paralyzed person in bed. I read the Scriptures, many other good books, researched and wrote numerous observations, and felt very close to the Lord. I learned firsthand once again how important it was for me to exercise my agency to look with optimism and WORK WITH FAITH!

I don't about you, but whenever I happen to watch the news on cable TV or on one of the major networks, this world seems to be so dark, wicked, filled with violence, and desperate people that it can make me depressed. I begin to wonder if there are any good people left, and if there are, where are they, and what are they doing? North Korea and Iran are threatening everybody with the development of nuclear weapons and missiles, terrorists seem to abound, the Middle East is a tinderbox waiting to explode, Afghanistan seems to be going nowhere good, the economy is horrible with unemployment skyrocketing. Will the United and when States suffer more major terrorist attacks? Will these attacks involve us or our loved ones -- and what about the price of gas and the Los Angeles Angels paying Albert Puljos more money than any human being is worth to play the game of baseball, and him, during the first month of the season, not hitting one home run and not hitting the size of his hat! What is this world coming to? Also, in this election year we are being flooded by a tsunami of words from politicians, putting one another down, saying mean-spirited things about one another, and not often in a very civil manner.

In reality though, I suppose our experience today is not much different from the experience of people of almost any age. I suppose the Christians living in Rome during the reign of Nero felt things probably were not so rosy, and then how would it have been to have been a Jew living in Germany or Eastern Europe during World War II? There has always been darkness, wickedness, violence, and perilous times for most people from the beginning of time. Peace and security have been the exception and not the rule.

In my reading of the Scriptures, biographies of great leaders, as well as of history itself, I constantly look for principles of an eternal nature that are common threads woven into the fabric of history and the lives of great men and women. One principle I see in the lives of individuals that I would truly consider to have made a major contribution in building and preserving a free society, where men and women and families are able to worship God according to their desires and beliefs, is that of optimism and WORKING with faith. Throughout history, both scriptural and secular, these character traits have been possessed by great leaders, and been powerful forces in helping them to overcome the pessimism and evil of the world.

I personally believe, for example, Winston Churchill was the savior of the Western world as we know it because of his ability to look with optimism and WORK with faith. The essence of his life I believe can be found in the shortest speech he ever gave. In August of 1941 when things were very dark and there seemed to be little hope of defeating Germany, standing before the student body of the school he attended as a boy he said, "Never, never, never, give up!" Through his indomitable spirit, ability to look with optimism and work with faith in a most desperate time for all of his countrymen, he was able to inspire them with hope and the will to fight on.

I am also very impressed with George Washington. I once read a book about his life which was titled, "George Washington, the Indispensable Man!" As I have studied his life as well as that period of history, he truly was the indispensable man. Without him I doubt this country as we know it would have come into being. Like Winston Churchill, he never gave up in the most adverse circumstances. As badly as things were going for the colonists in 1776, the one constant in all of this adversity was George Washington. He never gave up hope or lost his vision of why they were fighting this war. Through this very difficult time of adversity and affliction however, Washington was learning lessons that coupled with his work ethic and optimism, would ultimately enable him and his citizen Army to prevail over the English. David McCullough, in his final assessment of 1776 and of George Washington, wrote: "Experience had been his great teacher from boyhood and in this his greatest test, he learned steadily from experience... Washington never forgot what was at stake and he never gave up... without Washington's leadership and unrelenting perseverance, the revolution almost certainly would have failed." ("1776", pages 262-263, David McCullough)

Of course, Churchill and Washington's are just the tip of the iceberg of great leaders from the beginning of time who possessed these vital character traits. As you permit your mind to wander through the pages of the Scriptures and history, you will, and of course, have already found great leaders with whom you can identify and desire to emulate. Are our days more difficult than theirs? I believe that regardless of the time in which we happen to occupy our space on this earth that there will always be opposition and hard times which must inevitably be overcome with an attitude of hope, faith, and hard work.

One of the most optimistic people I have observed during my lifetime is the former president of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, President Gordon B. Hinckley. We would do well to follow his great example of working with faith perseverance and optimism in these troubled times it is our lot to experience. "There never was a greater time in the history of the world to live upon the earth than this. How grateful every one of us ought to feel for being alive in this wonderful time with all the marvelous blessings we have.…" [Gordon B. Hinckley, Church News, August 14, 1999] "

I see so many good people everywhere—and there’s so much of good in them. And the world is good. Wonderful things are happening in this world. This is the greatest age in the history of the earth.… We have every reason to be optimistic in this world. Tragedy is around, yes. Problems everywhere, yes. … You can’t, you don’t, build out of pessimism or cynicism. You look with optimism, work with faith, and things happen [Gordon B Hinckley, from Ensign, June 1995, 4]. It's good to be alive!

Dad/Grandpa/Jack

The Passing of a Great Servant of God

Several weeks ago we received word from our good friends, Ben and Emelia Andoh-Kesson that their good friend, Joseph William "Billy" Johnson had just passed away in a New Jersey hospital with heart problems. He had been in the United States, living with his daughter and her family in New Jersey, to receive the medical help he needed and did not have access to in Ghana, West Africa. We were saddened by this news.

Back in 2006 I wrote an observation about Billy Johnson. While he was visiting his good friends, Ben and Emelia Andoh-Kesson who are from Ghana also, Joseph William "Billy" Johnson came to our home on two different occasions. Brother Johnson was a patriarch in Ghana and was instrumental in bringing the missionaries and the gospel to West Africa. I would like to share with you once again a few things about Brother Johnson that will help you appreciate who he was. I will be liberally quoting from Maureen and Scot Procter who went to Ghana to interview Brother Johnson for Meridian Magazine a few years ago.

"Without priesthood power and direction, without the authorization of the Church, with no hope of receiving the priesthood himself, with no hope for temple blessings, he still felt compelled—even fired from his bone marrow-- to preach the gospel of Jesus Christ. Persecutions didn’t stop him. Disdain only sent him to his knees. The slow grinding of the years when he had ten congregations each bearing the handwritten signs “The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints” didn’t wear him down. Official letters from Church headquarters telling him that it wasn’t yet time to send missionaries didn’t daunt him. He knew from personal revelation that his “brothers from the West” would come for him, and though he sometimes cried and often prayed all night for courage, when they did come, he had 1,000 people who were ready for baptism..." "In the early 60’s, the Lord’s Spirit certainly began brooding on Africa. Not only did Brother Johnson form his congregations in Ghana, but also in Nigeria unauthorized congregations of Latter-day Saints began sprouting. Here it was that somebody saw an advertisement in The Reader’s Digest, there a friend from Europe sent a tract. Somebody else received a copy of the Book of Mormon. Seemingly unrelated events were coming together to bring a groundswell of interest in what must have seemed like a distant Church. What wasn’t distant was the Spirit which moved upon many people almost simultaneously with a divine orchestration that would someday bring a temple..." "... When we came upon Brother Johnson’s neighborhood nothing seemed remarkable. His home was in a typical African village, but that is where “typical” ended. He was as astounding as you’d expect the founder of a movement against great odds would be, and we felt the impress of his grand spirit as we interviewed him. Had we met someone like this before—ever before? Could Parley P. Pratt been more on fire than this African patriarch who had begged for the Church? We were not surprised when we learned that some of the early missionaries called him the “St. Paul of Ghana.” "... Brother Johnson is a visionary man, a man with significant dreams. God speaks to most of us in quieter tones, yet perhaps on the frontier of the Church, Joseph Johnson needed dreams to sustain and teach him." "Space will not permit a detailed account of how Church literature, the Book of Mormon, and the other standard works came into his hands. Upon receiving them however, the following took place: "He started his studies by reading a tract on Joseph Smith and the first vision, and said he, “I was convinced. I believed. I felt the spirit when I read the story of Joseph Smith, especially how the Father and the Son revealed themselves to him. That moved me a great deal"... He took his studies of the Book of Mormon with equal conviction, pouring over the pages. Then, he said, “One early morning of March 1964 while I was about to get up to prepare for my daily chores, the Spirit of the Lord fell upon me. I heard a voice from heaven speaking to me saying, ‘Johnson, if you will take up my word as I will command you to your people, I will bless you and bless your land.’ Trembling in fear, I replied in tears, saying ‘Lord by thy own help, I will do whatsoever thou would command me.’ "From that day on,” said Brother Johnson, “the Spirit of the Lord constrained me to propagate the restored gospel to my people. I started door to door and performed open missionary work preaching the new message we read from the Book of Mormon.” For the next 14 years Brother Johnson preached the gospel, organized branches of the Church (unauthorized branches, though not discouraged), and President David O. McKay encouraged him to be patient and that one day missionaries would come to Ghana. He had many spiritual experiences that increased his faith and made it possible for him to go forward with the work during this difficult time. Following is one of them. "One night, before the Church had come, he had been weeping for a different reason. He was discouraged and pained, wondering, “Will our brothers from the West ever come for us?” Then in a dream his brother, who had died four years before President Johnson had found the Church, came to him and said, “Do not weep. I have found your Church in this place, and I want to be baptized, but I cannot without your help.” To prove to President Johnson that he spoke the truth he sang for him “Come, Come Ye Saints.” Well, the missionaries came, the Church was officially organized in Ghana and Nigeria, and literally thousands of wonderful Africans have become members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. "On the day of the Ghana temple dedication, Brother Johnson said, “We will always remember what the missionaries have done for us. My heart is burning with love and appreciation. When I started preaching with the Book of Mormon, everyone said, they won’t come. Leave the Church. I said, ‘I know they will come because the Lord has told me."... Patriarch Johnson said, “Temple work is the sweetest part of the Church to which my heart and soul have always clung. I want to meet my mother and father in the resurrection prepared to enter the kingdom of God. “There is a chorus of God’s love inside every member of the Church of today. We can’t express our gratitude for the blessings we have received.”

One Saturday afternoon when Brother Johnson was visiting his friends here in Tustin, Brother Johnson, his sister Bea, and Sister Andoh-Kesson came to our home to visit. Emilia had shown him our video, "It's Good to Be Alive", the night before, and he was anxious to meet a fellow patriarch from the United States, although a paralyzed one. He was not nearly as eager to meet me as I was him. The moment he "sprang" into our living room and ran over to me, I could feel his Spirit of love before he said a word. He couldn't hug me because of the wheelchair, but had he been able to, it would have been a powerful embrace. Jo Anne and I felt the Spirit very strongly as we visited with this incredible human being -- a blend of Paul, Wilford Woodruff, Parley P. Pratt, and Brigham Young -- rolled into one. At one point in the conversation he stood up, placed his hands on my head, and gave me a brief, spontaneous blessing. We knew we were in the presence of a man of God, and a man of incredible faith. We attended the fireside he spoke at the following Sunday evening which was wonderful, and then heard that he wanted to come by our home once again on Monday afternoon. We felt extremely grateful and humbled that he would want to do so. When he entered our home on Monday we again felt his great spirit and soon discovered that the purpose of his visit was to give me a special blessing – not just to visit. He anointed my head with oil, sealed it by the power of the holy Melchizedek priesthood, and gave me a powerful blessing of peace, comfort, well-being, and some things I can't mention. Tears were flowing as I felt the love of Heavenly Father communicated to me through the faith and goodness of this great man. He is a man from another continent, another race, another culture, and almost from another world it seems. A man of God! My pitiful words cannot adequately describe my experience with Patriarch Johnson. Jo Anne thankfully, shared the experience with me, and knows what I am trying to say. As Ammon said, "I cannot say the smallest part which I feel." Hopefully, I will be able to see "Billy" once again in the Spirit World. I am sure he is there preaching the gospel that he loved so much. I hope to be worthy to join him in that work someday.

Dad/Grandpa/Jack

How Is Your Vision?

How Is Your Vision?

On occasion Jo Anne has made mention of the fact that I don't look so good. People who don't know her may think this statement is evidence of "Quad Abuse." Actually, she is referring to a story her dad, a great storyteller with a wonderful sense of humor, used to tell about an old farmer.

It seems that the farmer had a horse he wanted to sell so he paid to have an ad run in the city newspaper. The ad read something like this – "Horse for sale. Young, strong, and healthy, but doesn't look so good."

Several days after the ad ran, a city slicker from the big city drove out to the farm to inspect the horse. He was just amazed at how beautiful the horse was and that the farmer must be crazy to be willing to sell it so cheaply. He bought the horse on the spot, thinking he had really put one over on this old hayseed. He made arrangements to have the horse transported to a pasture near his home in the city. Several days later he returned to the farm and angrily confronted the old farmer. He shouted, "Why didn't you tell me that horse was blind?" The old farmer calmly replied, "I told you he didn't look so good!" I don't think the old hayseed refunded the money!

I always like to think when Jo Anne tells people her husband doesn't "look so good," she is only referring to my eyesight. However, I'm not totally convinced that is the case.
I must admit that I am the Mr. Magoo of wheelchair driving. Jo Anne accuses me of driving my wheelchair by the braille system – the same system she uses in driving our van. I must admit that I have left my mark in many different and beautiful places. I will never forget the day I inadvertently puffed when I should have sipped and ran my chair into a beautiful wall in the Los Angeles Temple. The Temple matron was watching this scene unfold, and thankfully made me feel better by telling me I was still welcome. I thought she would take steps to have my wheelchair driver license revoked along with my Temple recommend. She probably should have done that, because in the ensuing years I have left my mark on the San Diego Temple, as well as the Newport Beach Temple. All of the wonderful Temple workers still make me feel welcome, which is a tribute to the eternal truth that "Charity never faileth."

My most embarrassing Mr. Magoo experience took place in the lingerie department at JC Penny's. My wife and daughter left me in the aisle while they disappeared into the jungle of femininity which was the lingerie department. As I sat there staring at the limitless and varied unmentionable female intimate apparel, people began to stare at me as they passed by. I got the feeling they thought I might be a tad weird so I gritted my teeth and maneuvered my wheelchair down one of the aisles into that feminine jungle. I successfully navigated my chair all the way to the far wall and then had to make a left turn. Not "looking so good" my chair snagged on to the pantry rack which was attached to another panty rack which was also attached to another panty rack and the entire display fell to the floor. I knew no one had witnessed the crime, so I did a quick left turn down the next aisle trying to make as clean and rapid an exit as I could from the scene of the crime. Again however, I didn't turn sharply enough and my chair caught on the bra rack. These displays were also connected together and all the bras in the lingerie department fell down on top of me. One of them got caught on my power switch and as I tried to get away the bra stretched the power switch to the off position. There was no getting away from this crime scene, and as I sat there awaiting – I really didn't know what – a salesperson came rushing up. She was about 80 years old and looked like the wicked witch in "Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs." She had no sense of humor, and staring at me said, "Sir, would you just please leave – now!" Thankfully, at that moment my wife and daughter arrived on the scene but were not much help as they were rendered totally incapacitated by uncontrollable laughter. I have not returned to that store, nor do I ever plan on doing so.

My Mr. Magoo experiences began a few years ago, not too long after undergoing cataract surgery. The surgeries on both eyes were successful. In fact, I was able to see more clearly than I had for years. Then one day I noticed something like a little half Moon shadow coming down and covering the top of my eye. It didn't hurt and I thought it would just go away. It didn't! A couple of days later I mentioned what was happening to my son John. He was in medical school at the time and had just completed a rotation in ophthalmology. He said "Dad, you have a detached retina." He urged me to go to the ophthalmologist immediately which I did. Sure enough, I had a detached retina. Surgery was performed – the least invasive possible – but it was not successful. The second surgery went really well, but several days after the surgery I noticed that I couldn't focus well. I went back to the ophthalmologist who could see that the plastic lens that had been inserted at the time of the cataract surgery had become dislodged. He scheduled me to come to the hospital the next day so that he could fix it for me. He said it was pretty much a slam dunk procedure that would only take a few minutes. The surgery began, and three hours later I finally woke up. He somehow had lost the lens during the procedure. It had fallen into the back of my eye, cut into the retina, caused it to hemorrhage, and it was all he could do to stop the bleeding. He said however, that the lens was now in place and that I should be good to go. Several days later I noticed the shadow once again. We couldn't believe my retina was detaching again, but away we went to the ophthalmologist to have it checked out. On the way, our van malfunctioned while driving on the freeway, and we ended up inside our van on the back of a very large tow truck being towed to the nearest garage that could help us out. We never made the appointment with the ophthalmologist that day. Once he finally saw us he immediately realized the seriousness of the problem that had now occurred. He performed a midnight emergency surgery which lasted several hours. When I woke up he told me it had to have been the most difficult surgery he had ever performed in trying to attach a retina once again. I asked him if it would affect my vision and he sadly informed me that it would. Later with Jo Anne, he was weeping as he told her what had happened. He is a good man and I can't accuse him of malpractice. Because my neck is frozen in place he could never get me in the perfect position to attach the retina. Also, the upside is that it has given me a great opportunity to further develop the quality of forgiveness.

Well, I learned to get along quite nicely with just one eye. Then one day – you guessed it – the dreaded shadow began creeping down my one good eye. By then we had a new ophthalmologist – I wonder why – who performed once again the least invasive retinal surgery possible. It didn't work! The second surgery was successful but because I was down to just one eye now, the doctor felt it was necessary to fill the eye cavity with oil that would exert sufficient pressure on the retina to keep it from detaching again. I recommended Pennzoil 10/30 – I always had good luck with that brand – but he insisted on using special silicone oil. I'm still not convinced it is as good as Pennzoil. However, it has stabilized the eye, but the downside is that it distorts my vision. I no longer can read the written word, when I teach gospel doctrine I can only see the features on the faces of those sitting very close to me on the front row, during sacrament meeting I can't see who is speaking or make out who is sitting on the stand. One of the upsides to my limited vision, is that I never get nervous speaking in public whether it is to 10 or 1000, because I can only see a few people who are sitting directly in front of me on the front row. Thankfully, I am able to magnify the fonts on my computer to 200% and can read and see beautifully while I do so. I have a large 42 inch screen high definition TV in my bedroom and when I sit a foot away from it the picture is crisp and beautiful. Also, when I go to the movie theaters and sit in handicapped seating which is always close to the front, I can see perfectly.

So what? Well, the so what, from my point of view anyway, is that I have learned several valuable lessons about life from this experience. The Lord told Joseph Smith that all of the afflictions and adversities he had experienced had given him experience and would do for his good. [D&C 122] I think that statement is only true if our adversity and affliction draws us closer to the Lord and makes us appreciate more fully all of the rich blessings we have been given.I really do value the miracle of sight. What a blessing it is to be able to see. You may think what I am saying is absurd, but each morning when I wake up I open my one good eye just a little bit and when I can see the dark of night becoming gray and then eventually being able to see the bright sunshine streaming through my Windows, my heart rejoices! Of course I would like to see better, but I doubt anybody appreciates the vision they have been blessed with more than I do. This experience with my vision, or lack thereof, has been "for my good." I can't thank enough, a loving and kind Heavenly Father, for the miraculous and priceless gift of sight.

Because of my daily brush with impending blindness, I have been amazed at how many times during his earthly ministry Jesus gave sight to the blind. If you were to search the topical guide you would better appreciate what I am saying. He seemed to have great compassion for those who lived out their lives in darkness or semi darkness. I take great comfort in that thought. Jesus frequently used physical blindness as a metaphor for spiritual blindness. He does so in John chapter 9 – one of my favorite chapters in the Gospel of John because of my own battle with vision – when after healing the man born blind, he said to the unbelieving local Jewish leaders: "For judgment I am come into this world, that they will which see not might see; and that they which see might be made blind. [John 9:39]
The Jewish leaders knew he was referring to them and they were incensed. They, who thought they could see and know everything, were actually spiritually blind, which is a far greater and crippling malady than being physically blind.

My struggle with "physical vision," has ultimately "been for my good," in that I think my "spiritual vision" is more 20/20 than it used to be. How grateful I am to be able to see more accurately than ever before that which matters most, not with the "natural" eye, but with the "spiritual." Could Jesus give me my sight back? Of course HE could! But HE doesn't need to because HE has given me a far greater gift than physical vision – being able to see clearly and accurately with my "spiritual eyes," that which matters most.

Dad/Grandpa/Jack