Commercialization

In the story A Christmas Carol, by Charles Dickens, Tiny Tim concludes with the statement, "God bless us, everyone!"

This little boy's plea for God to bless all people seems to be lost on society today. God is no longer remembered at this celebration of the birth of His Son. Christ is being taken out of CHRISTmas, and replaced by the commercialized aspect of gifts and Santa Claus.

Now, I'm not saying that Santa Claus should be removed from Christmas. I believe that he plays an important role in helping us to revel in the magic of the season. Neither am I saying that everyone everywhere should be Christian. I understand that people have different believes, and I respect them. But you don't see people taking Jehovah out of Chanukah, or Allah out of Ramadan. I don't think that anyone should take the religious aspect out of any holiday regardless of what religion is being celebrated!

I remember growing up and saying Merry Christmas to friends and teachers at school. I remember having to explain to one of my friends what Christmas was all about, but he had no problems with the celebration of such a holiday. As I grew older and entered High School I was told that we could no longer call the Christmas Assembly the Christmas Assembly. The name was too discriminatory, or so they said. But I never heard someone of a different nationality make the complaint! Regardless of where it came from we now had our Wassail Concert, signifying the celebration of Christmas without stating it for what it was. Here was an example of how Christ was being pushed to the wayside, even at the celebration of His birth.

As I look back at my experiences where commercialization has pushed religion to the backseat, I can't help but think that we should be doing something to allow religion to reenter the scene. Since Christmas just took place, that's really what is fresh in my mind. It's a celebration of His birth, and though gifts may be given, and Santa Claus may be coming, we can't forget why we are celebrating. I revised the words to the poem "'Twas the Night Before Christmas" to try and signify this,

'Twas the Week Christ Reentered Christmas

‘Twas the week before Christmas, when all through the town

Every person was shopping; they had gifts to be found.

At the mall each child anxiously waits for their turn

To sit upon Santa so that he might learn

All about the gifts that they wanted to receive:

Balls, trains, and other things, but one struggled to believe.

I looked on in wonderment as this little boy paused,

A kid not wanting a gift, now what was the cause?

So I bent down and asked, “What’s up little guy?”

And awaited my answer as he turned with a sigh.

“I can’t just ask him for what I’m wishing for.

You see,” said he, “I was taught that this season’s about a little bit more.

“I was told that though people like to put on a show,

Christmas is much more than bows, ribbons, or mistletoe.

My parents taught me that it’s really about a Man,

One who came down to earth, died, but lives again.

“It’s at this most festive time of the year,

That we can celebrate the birth of this Man, so dear.

His name is Jesus Christ, and he came down to earth

Where angels, to shepherds, heralded his birth.

“He was born of a virgin, Mary was her name,

Who had travelled to Bethlehem, a city of great fame.

It was here she had come, with her husband to be counted,

They had travelled from Galilee, on a donkey she had mounted.

“But despite this hard travel things were still okay,

And they were optimistic about the place they would stay.

But in finding a room at the Inn, they weren’t able,

So they were forced to lodge in a crude stable.

“It was here, long ago, that Jesus was born

Where He slept in a manger on the first Christmas morn.

Shepherds had come to see the birth of this King,

And Wise men came, three gifts they did bring.

“They honoured this Man, a true Son of God,

For what He would do they came, and His name they did laud.”

“And what did He do?” I asked, with a bit of sneer,

I doubted he knew, he didn’t look as old as 10 years,

Yet despite my doubt, the boy answered my query

And explained how this man had borne sin till He was weary.

“Then this Man among Men, the Son of God in the flesh,

Died on the cross so that one day I’d have my wish.

“You see mister,” he said without hesitation,

“That Man, Jesus Christ, died so I could overcome my frustration.

I told you I learned this from my dad and my mom,

Well that was before a desperate thief did come.

“He came to my house looking for jewels and cash

And because of a sound outside he did something rash.

He tried to leave in a hurry, and on the way out

He shot my parents dead, of that there was no doubt.

“And that’s my frustration, that they’re not here you see,

And my wish to be with them Santa just can’t give me.

It’s only through Christ that I can see my folks again,

And so it’s His birth I celebrate as we enter this season.

“It’s because of Christ that we celebrate Christmas,

And Santa just can’t compare, no matter what he does.

But I best be on my way, but thanks for that talk,

Have a Merry Christmas!” and with that, off he walked.

With a tear in my eye I turned back to look

At the children with Santa asking for a game or a book.

I wished that they understood what I had just been taught

That the reason for Christmas just couldn’t be bought.

I marveled that a boy who wasn’t yet ten,

Could understand and then teach to men,

A message that we should all really know,

That it’s for Christ we celebrate, even amidst all this snow.

Now let us follow his counsel to let Christ reenter Christmas for us.

And so, let's allow religion to again be a part of the celebrations we have so that we too might utter the plea for "God [to] bless us, everyone".

Regret

In the book White Oleander, by Janet Fitch, a very interesting comment is made by one of the characters on the subject of regretting the past. The comment goes as follows,

"You ask me about regret? Let me tell you a few things about regret, my darling. There is no end to it. You cannot find the beginning of the chain that brought us from there to here. Should you regret the whole chain, and the air in between, or each link separately, as if you could uncouple them? Do you regret the beginning, that ended so badly, or just the ending itself?"

Looking back at my life, I can definitely remember things I would say that I regret. As a kid, I wasn't always the most well behaved. But as the youngest of five kids, I quickly learned to play with people's heart strings so that I wouldn't end up getting into too much trouble. I can't even begin to count how many times I had done something against my siblings (either got in a fight with them, or even when I just did something against them in spite) and then going up to them, saying, with puppy-dog-eyes, "I forgive you, do you forgive me?" I would then proceed to stare at my feet in supposed penitence. That got me out of a lot of tight situations, but I've regretted it since.

Then there was that time in elementary school. There was this one guy who really liked to push my buttons. One day, when we were playing basketball, he went to "block" my shot. However, his hand never went much higher than my elbow as he slapped my arm, not the ball. I kind of let my anger get away from me and I began to walk after him with one thought in my mind, I was going to stop this once and for all. Two of my friends had to hold me back to stop me from doing anything stupid. Sure he stopped bugging me, but I regret letting my emotions rule me rather than the other way around.

Another couple instances that really stand out in my mind are from when I was on my mission for my church. There I was, devoting my time to teach others about God, Jesus Christ, and the joy that come into their lives by following their gospel, but I didn't talk to everyone. There were times that I had seen a man three times in one day and found excuses not to talk to him. I regretted that when I later seeing that same individual accepting the message we shared by different missionaries after I had been transferred to a different area.

As reflect on these experiences and all that regret is an does, I'd have to say that regret helps us to become aware of our priorities. However, those feelings of regret are definitely not meant to be harboured in our hearts to fester and grow. When we regret things in the past it is in order to understand what not to do in the future. From the regret of my childhood I've learned that I never want to add to a person's inner turmoil. It is a priority for me to not force someone to do something out of guilt, or for any other reason. From my regret in elementary school I've learned that I don't want to be ruled by my passions. It is a priority for me to decide how I act with a collected mind, striving for the best course of action based on all of my understanding, not just the understanding of how I feel. From the regret of my missionary service I've learned that I can't let responsibilities I have slip by the way side. It is a priority for me to live by my word, to have integrity in all that I do and say. And now that I understand those things I can let go of those regrets and strive not to regret similar experiences in the future.

So I guess what I'm saying is that regret is merely a temporary thing. If we allow it to fester, it becomes something that "there is no end to". So what priorities have your regrets helped you to realize?

Mortality

"They think they can do anything.", "They act as if they're invincible.", or "They only think of themselves." These comments, and others like them, have been uttered for years by the elderly as they look at "kids these days".

I used to be confused whenever I heard such statements. They didn't really make all that much sense to me, so I just set them aside, not paying them much attention. However, looking back at my memories I can't help but concede that the older generation may actually be right. Each of their scathing comments are indeed founded upon a grain of truth. I mean, they've been there. Each and every person who utters such a statement has been the age that they currently look down upon, and for that reason speak not just according to what they've seen recently, but also according to their experiences.

Each "old-timer" can look back on his/her life and remember the times when anything could be done. When they believed they were invincible, and as a result of that ended up being fixated on themselves. I'm sure that if you look back on your life you can think of those times too, and if you can't that probably means that you are currently situated in one of those times I'm describing.

I remember being at that stage, the stage where I thought I was INVINCIBLE! It began when I was in grade one or two. I hadn't reached the point where I thought I knew everything, but I did believe that everything knew me! I had somehow come to the conclusion that I was of such import to the world that everyone and everything knew who I was. Why did they know who I was, you may ask? Because I was invincible. Nothing could hurt or hinder me, and that's just the way it was. Or so I thought.

Then Experiences began to crop up that proved me wrong; they proved to me my own mortality. When I was in grade three I enjoyed being on the Cross Country team. I wasn't the best, but I certainly wasn't the worst. The best in our grade was Jason. We would go to practice with the other grades and he still ended up within the top five! But then something happened. On one of our runs he and this other guy were vying for position as they headed into the home stretch. Then, somehow, Jason got tripped. He fell and scraped his knee, though when I say scraped I mean 110 x worse than the everyday scrape when a child asks for you to kiss his/her boo-boo. You could literally see his knee cap, and an ambulance rushed him to the hospital. As a young kid that sight definitely put a damper on my feelings of invincibility.

A few years later I was again reminded just how mortal we are. I was on my school's basketball team and it seemed that this year was plagued by deaths. I can't remember how many condolence cards our coach passed around to show our sympathy for one player, then another, and then another. The following year I received a card of my own as my Opa (grandfather in Dutch) succumbed to his own mortality and passed away.

These experiences, and others like it stood out in stark contrast to the view I had had of my own invincibility. I began to realize that everything has its consequences and nothing really lasts for ever, least of all our lives. Don't get me wrong, I have a strong conviction, and attest to the fact that there is life after the death of our mortal bodies. We do have more to look forward to, but we need to realize our own mortality. No matter how hard we try to set it aside the temporal nature of life is just, temporary.

As I reflected on these experiences and all I have learned from them, I couldn't help but wonder if I was doing enough about it. Life is short, so why put things off for tomorrow that can be done today? I don't have regrets about my life, but I want to keep it that way. Life is too short to look back at something that's been left undone, and then wonder how things could have been different. And so I ask...

...if you were to die tomorrow, how would you live today? Are you living that way?
Just a thought to keep in mind.

Injustice

It amazes me just how unjust people can be. We are more than willing to recognize the faults of others but are loathe to look at the truth about ourselves, even when that truth reveals us doing the selfsame thing we revile against within another person.

When I was in High School a large number of students from our school went to Europe for the 90th anniversary of the battle of Vimy Ridge. It was an amazing experience! We started out in London, England, then traveled to Dover stopping at a number of historical sights along the way. We then crossed over to France where we traveled to Paris stopping en route at Vimy Ridge. But the part of the experience that I want to underline took place before we even left North America.

It was early morning when we boarded the bus at our school and headed to Detroit, Michigan. There we caught a plane to Chicago and then transferred to an international flight that took us to London. This took place after 9/11, so airport security was fairly high, and that's an understatement. My high school was known for it's ESL (English as a Second Language) program and so we had a large number of students who had recently immigrated to Canada from other countries. As a result of this we also had a high percentage of the student population who ascribed to the Islamic faith, and quite a few of them were going on this trip. It was so sad to see the blatant discrimination that took place as these students, all of them legal Canadians, were forced to undergo more searches and lengthier questioning than any of the others. Because of security staff associating terrorist acts with a culture rather than only with the extremist group who perpetrated such activities these students got the short end of the stick.

It was interesting to later hear some of these students complain amongst themselves as to how they were being treated. And to be honest, I couldn't blame them for it. But the thing that struck me as odd was to then hear these same individuals speak out against the Jewish people as a whole. Now I understand that there has been a lengthy history of anger and fighting between the Israeli people and other Middle Eastern countries, but that's Israel not all people of Jewish descent. It disgusted me that one minute they complained about the United States generalizing against themselves off of one portion of their people, and then the next second they generalized against Jews basing their deductions on just a single group. The hypocrisy and injustice in such a situation astounded and appalled me.

As I look back at that experience I can't help but think of numerous times where others have done the same thing; been angry about something and then turn around and do the same thing to another. That's become one of my biggest pet-peeves, but I'm not saying that I'm immune to engaging in such conflicting action. Though I can't think of specific examples where I've done that, I'm sure that other people could.

In reflecting on such injustice I can't help but wonder why, when each of us can quote the saying "to err is human", do we not cut each other some slack? But I think that the knowledge of such a fact, that each and everyone of make mistakes, is really the problem. We begin to define one another by those errors. Those definitions turn into labels, and the labels then extend to the group rather than the individual. But though it is true that "to err is human", to err does not define humanity. There is so much more about a person than just the mistakes he/she has made, makes today, or will make in the litany of tomorrows.

In allowing the errors of mankind to be the determiner for our actions we blind ourselves to what humanity truly is, and what an individual is capable of. I mean, we don't look at ourselves and just see what mistakes we've made, we acknowledge those mistakes and then strive to make them right. It is in the nature of mankind to err, but it is also in the heart of humanity that sorrow for error takes root and motivates repentance.

So why should we focus on the fact that "to err is human" when that is only one facet of beautiful jewel that humanity is?

One Step At A Time

"A journey of a thousand miles begins with one step." - Lao-Tzu

Just as every day is the first day of the rest of your life, so is every step the first step that you will take towards your destination. It is the beginning step that determines not only where you will be today, but where the next thousand miles will bring you. One step can have a lot of repercussions!

A few years ago I got in a serious car accident. Following the accident there were a lot of things that I had to relearn how to do. My life had totally changed from that one experience; I had a long ways to go to try and get any semblance of normality back into my daily life. One of the things that I had to work on was relearning how to walk.

I remember that when I first awoke from the coma my parents had to help with everything that I did. My Dad even had to help me to get to, and then use the washroom. My body just couldn't remember how to do those things, which was really frustrating since I could still remember having done those things before the accident without any problems, but there were problems now. So, with the hope that I would be able to do these things on my own in no time I began physio and occupational therapy. To be perfectly honest, I never really enjoyed either physio or occupational therapy while I was in the hospital, what I had to relearn made me feel like a child again. But, despite my dislike, I knew that this rehab was necessary and so I worked my hardest to be able to take that first step.

My family will be the first to tell you that I didn't like what they left for me to do. They gave me a walker to walk with to help me to build strength until I could walk on my own. I hated that walker! All I could think about were the people who used walkers, children as they learned to walk (though their walkers are often in the form of toys) and senior citizens who are losing their ability to walk. I didn't think I fit either of those categories and so decided for myself that I didn't need a walker, and that was that. A couple of times they would ask me to walk somewhere and put the walker in front of me. But I didn't need that walker, so what did I do? I picked the walker up and just walked while carrying it. That didn't turn out so well, but I made my point. Eventually I was able to walk again, and about three weeks after being admitted into the hopital I walked out (without a walker).

Looking at such an experience, most people would say I was stubborn (the doctors and nurses would probably agree). As I reflect on this memory what I see is determination. I saw where I wanted my first step to lead me and I wasn't going to let a walker hold me back. I also see an understanding of personal accountability in this experience. I know that neither of these two things were on my mind while I was in the middle of the experience I mentioned, but looking back on it I can see that I was determined to achieve my goal, and I knew that only I was the one that could determine whether it was achieved or not.

That's the way it is with everything. As Lao-Tzu said, "A journey of a thousand miles begins with one step." First, you need to know where you want to end up, because a step in the wrong direction could be disastrous. Then you need to take that very first step. And when I say you, I mean YOU! No one else can make the step for you. It is only when you take that first step that you can guarantee the direction of your destination.

It's all one step at a time.

Why?

I can't help but chuckle when children ask why. Not the simple "Why?" "Because..." situation where the answer is understood and accepted; no, I'm talking about those situations where the kid asks "Why?" You know, with that little innocent look on his/her face that implores you to provide an answer. So you do. Inevitably the next word out of the child's mouth is, "Why?" This pattern then continues for quite sometime until frustrated your response is, "JUST BECAUSE!" I'm sure you know what I'm talking about.

I remember being a kid with that same question. I remember asking why in reference to everything, and I mean EVERYTHING! I just wanted to understand and I knew that all around me there were people who knew. I mean, if you were taller than me that must mean that they knew. So I asked.

Looking back at that experience, and all the times that a child has asked me the seemingly simple question of "Why?", I can't help but think of the ensuing time where this questioning period comes to an end. That day that every parent of toddler yearns for: when the because is accepted without a follow up question. But reflecting on my own personal experience I can't help but wonder if that day ever really comes. Do we stop asking why, or do we just realize the frustration that such questions bring for others and keep silent? Do we stop looking for the why, or do we just start to do the looking on our own? I would argue that we merely stop asking why and begin wondering why. I mean, looking at my own experience I can't help but wonder how my teachers lived with me. I bet that for every day I had a certain class I asked at least 10 questions. I wanted to understand and that's the way that I've learned can guarantee either an answer or the supply of a way to find the answer.

But my experience isn't the only reason that I say the our yearning to understand the why isn't extinguished when we reach a certain age. I mean, how else would we have any of the inventions that we now take for granted, and many couldn't live with out. What led to the invention of the car? The question, "Why couldn't there be a way for this carriage to get us from point A to point B without horses?" Or what led to the invention of the phone if not the question of why do we need to leave our homes to speak with friends and family? And there is no way that a internet search engines would be as popular as they are if not for mankind's yearning to know why.

It seems to me that why is what all people search for, and many people let you think they know even when they don't. It is such an important thing to have up our sleeves; the reason WHY! But why not? If we limit ourselves to just the reasons why we will never understand what could have been. As satisfy that innate desire to understand by looking for the reason why, let's take it a step further and look for the why not in our unspoken dreams. Why?

Because every dream can be a reality.

The Power of One Little Word

"Ev'ry so often we long to steal
To the land of what-might-have-been
But that doesn't soften the ache we feel
When reality sets back in." -- Elphaba, Wicked

Just as Elphaba states, imagining the "ifs" leads no where. In fact, from what I've seen the "if only" attitude can have great negative effects.

I remember as a kid we had this golfing game on our computer. I loved that game and was always asking my Dad if I could play. However, as a really young kid I wasn't the best at aiming, so my golf shots (especially the putts) were never very good. That's how I became introduced to my favorite part of the game, the mulligan option. By using this my last shot didn't count and I could redo it. I had a great adoration of that button. As a kid I thought it would be so cool to have one of those buttons in real life. How sweet would it be to be able to redo a certain moment in time. I mean how many times do you think, or hear from others, "if only I had done this..." or "what if this had happened...". What would it be like if we got to live out those ifs? Visit that "land of what-might-have-been".

Quite a few years after I first thought about this mulligan for life's situations I had a situation of my own. I was in a serious car accident and sustained a major brain injury. I had to relearn how to write, walk, read, and communicate properly. Now that was definitely a time where I contemplated the "ifs"! If only I had looked better before I crossed the intersection. What if the car had had air bags? But as I focused on the "land of what-might-have-been" it didn't change reality. I still had to face the music, as it were, and figure out how I was now going to play the music of life.

As I look back on these experiences I can see the power of that on little word, IF. Though it only has two little letters it's implications extend far beyond the sentence it's used in. During my recovery from my accident focusing on the "ifs" merely left me depressed and unsure of myself. If I had made a mistake there, then wasn't I likely to make a mistake again? The trust I had in myself and everyone around me, including God was questioned with the little word if. Not only did reality set back in after contemplating the ifs, I was now the weaker because of it. What's happened has happened and though we may not like it we do have the resources and power to overcome it.

So, lets not give a word power over us!

Called & Chosen

I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. For a number of years the leaders of our church have referred to the rising generation as a chosen generation. Chosen by our Heavenly Father to come to earth at this time when there is great moral depravity.

I can remember when I first heard that term "chosen generation". I believe I was around the age of 12, or maybe 13, and the title was used in reference to me and my peers. At first I was a little taken aback by the thought that we were a chosen generation; that each of us had been saved to come to earth at this time because we were individually special. Now, don't get me wrong. The world is in quite a sorry state right now as societal views shift away from values of modesty, integrity, and obedience. Day after day the media highlights advertisements rampant with sexual innuendos, little white lies, and examples of bending the rules to get through life. But as a young man I really didn't see it that way.

At first, as I stated, I thought the leaders of the church had finally missed something. They were actually wrong this time, I was sure of it. I really didn't see there being all that much wrong with life back then, it all looked fine to me. I thought they were over exaggerating the threat and were therefore over exaggerating our strengths. Then I heard the term again, and again. I began to believe them and became rather proud of who I was. In my mind I began to think that we certainly were special and that only we could make it through what lay ahead. I thought we were something else, something greater than any generation that had come before, or will even come after. We were chosen.

As I look back at that perception I can't help but laugh at myself. Are we chosen, of course we are, but who isn't. As I've reflected on the term "chosen generation" I've realized that it's a term that applies to every generation of mankind who ever have, or ever will be upon the face of this earth. Each of us have certain capabilities and strengths, along with the corresponding weaknesses. Just as a loving father knows his children, and what they're able to do, so does our Heavenly Father know exactly what we're able to do. With this knowledge He has chosen to send each of us to earth at a very specific time, and in a very specific place. He knows that you are best suited to face the obstacles that have and will come during your lifetime in the place that you are. You are chosen.

Each of us are chosen, and indeed called to stand forth with our might and do all we can to make the world a better place. That may mean that we're meant to do something extraordinary, but more likely than not it doesn't. But that doesn't mean that we are any less important. Think about the effects one individual can have while just going about ordinary life. I mean, think of Einstein's first grade teacher. We have no idea who that person was, but he/she started young Albert on a path to intellectual greatness. Think of Donovan Bailey's boyhood friend who challenged him to a race for the last swing. We have no idea who that friend was, but it's him/her that opened the way for young Donovan to begin sprinting faster than anyone else. Think of Michelangelo's mother who would cherish the small sketches he would do. We have no idea who that woman was or what she was like, but her faith and encouragement began Michelangelo on a path of artistic genius.

No matter how small our acts may be, the effect they can have are immense. We may think that another could do better, but no one else is you. You are the one with the strengths and weaknesses that define who you are and make you prepared for what you will face. Our Heavenly Father has chosen us because He knows that we are capable, now let's go prove that to ourselves!

Are you afraid of the dark?

Fears are very interesting things when you pause to think about them. There are fears that are ingrained into our very nature, others we grow into over time, and still others that seem to be rather irrational. Yet the majority of what we are afraid of have at least the semblance of an explanation for the why.

As a little kid I remember being afraid of the dark, I mean who wasn't? There was an aspect of the unknown as I peered out the window late at night and nothing was truly discernible. Just a little bit freaky as a little kid. Another thing that didn't really help extinguish this fear was what my sister and I, along with a few of our friends, did with the character and concept of Bloody Mary. Like most kids we had heard the old horror stories about Bloody Mary and how she would come to the one chanting her name in front of a mirror in a pitch black room. From what I recall, we believed that Mary was a Queen of sorts and would help us in succeeding in our lives if we did her bidding but once. Now I'm not sure what happened for my sister, or my friends for that matter, but they all told fantastical stories after going into the bathroom, alone, and with the lights off. When it came to be my turn I went into the bathroom all brave and sure that I would have the best story yet. The lights were turned off and the door was shut. I was left alone in the dark where a dead woman was going to come visit me, I thought I was going to pee my pants! I chanted Bloody Mary's name for what seemed to be forever, yet nothing happened. When suddenly BAM, BAM, BOOM, KNOCK, BAM, BANG, BANG! It seemed that everyone was banging on the door simultaneously. I was scared out of my wits and may have cried just a little bit. Though nothing had happened I told my sister and friends anything they wanted to hear just so I wouldn't have to go through it again. That dark bathroom was scary!!!

My guess is that many of you reading this could share similar experiences from your childhood days. Then what is the explanation for that fear, or is it of the irrational category? I believe that the fear of the dark can both be explained as a fear of the unknown, but also as something ingrained in our ancestors. Way back when people grew accustomed to the fact that those who went off into the night alone didn't often return unharmed, or return at all! As people began to domesticate nature and urbanize the world this became less likely, but it seems the fear remains for many children; some who grow out of it, and others who do not.

As I reflect on this fear, and other fears that I grew up with, the act of rationalizing them, and explaining the why, has pushed a large number of them out of my life. My fear of the dark, of heights, of the ocean, of men with deep voices (this one kind of makes me laugh since I'm now a man with a deep voice), and the list could go on. Each of them seems to have dissipated to the point that I don't really consider them fears anymore, except one. That is the fear of myself.

Now that may sound very weird, and I can honestly tell you that it has nothing to do with me becoming a man with a deep voice (I promise!). But I can say that in many situations I fear me; I fear what I can do and the ensuing consequences. And though I can explain this fear away as being because of not completely understanding what I'm capable of, knowing myself better doesn't change anything. I can explain the fear as a reemergence of an ancient desire to not lead family or friends into danger, looking over my decisions until I am sure of myself doesn't effect the fear at all. I think this is one I'm stuck with. And for that reason I will always be looking for verification from others, but most of all from the Lord to see if what I am doing is really the best thing to be done. And though the fear may not go away, the anxious fretting and nervous second guessing always does.

So, what are you afraid of?

Dreams

"A dream is a wish your heart makes." - Cinderella

When we dream we look at the possibilities of who we can become and all that we can do. We may dream about a certain career, becoming famous, or even reaching a certain ideal. The draw of achieving our potential, or making a desired possibility happen leads us on from one dream to the next. There never seems to be an end to them.

As a kid I can remember having the dream of doing something that I would be remembered for after I had passed on from this life. As a kid I thought that meant one of two things, either being an actor in a movie or TV show or doing something extraordinarily heroic. I wanted, more than anything in the world, to be known for something...anything! I wished, I hoped, I DREAMED that something would end up being associated with my name in such a way that people would be overcome with admiration whenever my name or accomplishment was mentioned. Kind of like Alexander Graham Bell and the telephone.

I dreamed of not only inventing or doing the greatest thing since sliced bread; I dreamed of outdoing Otto Frederick Rohwedder and inventing or doing the thing greater than sliced bread.

Now, as I remember this little dream of mine, and reflect on all that's happened in my life, I realized that my dream has been, and will be fulfilled , even if I don't outdo Rohwedder and his sliced bread. I will be remembered as a son, a brother, an uncle, a friend, and one day as a father. And that is enough. Dreams will be dreamt up by everyone time and time again, and to too many people they may seem to be unfulfilled, and maybe even pointless. But they would be wrong. What I've learned is that life is going to be all we dream of and more, though maybe not exactly how we dream of it. So never stop dreaming!