I have finally written a song that I am proud of. I did it half way cheating, I took the music and stanza construction for a song that already existed and wrote my own lyric. I figure that it was a good start into the world of songwriting to get comfortable with attaching words to a melody. I wrote this to my precious daughters...
“My Little Child”
Music taken from the song, “Jerusalem” by Peter Brienholt.
Words by Bryce Prescott:
And so we lay here to rest
And so we lay here in a place we’re called a guest
Your broken words among us are what’s said, my little child
You and me, we are the same
In you I see a spark and know you’re life will see much fame
You spoke to me before you had a name, my little child
I’ve never felt love quite as dearly
As I do when you are with me, my little child
Our time has passed, the sky is dark
The spotted lights above me guide me home with empty heart
Our journey home won’t always be apart, my little child
Let the heavens open to you as I pray
And let you see the man I am as I am far way
And grant you all the love you need this day, my little child
And now we lay here to rest
And now the sorrow’s gone, the sun begins to crest
And spread it’s light abroad, no hint of jest, my little child.
Tuesday, March 21, 2006
Monday, March 20, 2006
I Bid Adieu, Good Freinds...
It’s official. We have finally moved. Last week, in a whirlwind, we decided that the time had come and that we needed to leave. We finished the painting we had to do and within three days were packed, moved and sleeping back here at our town home, the location to which I am writing this entry. It has only been recently that the storm has begun to die down and I have started to feel a chapter of my life close. I have written of how reluctant I was to let go of that home and all that it represented to me and my life. I still don’t think that I am ready to let go, I most likely will find myself driving by in lonely moments reminiscing about a time of my life when things weren’t so complicated. I have had so much of my life transpire there; My faith was tested and proven, I brought two children home from the hospital, it was the first home that I had ever purchased and yet lost it all in the same small space of square footage. I know that it is not the Lord’s way to dwell on the past, but I have learned that the pain associated with longing is a vital step in the journey back to our Heavenly Father. I would like to leave a quote from a book that I am reading that struck me as profound.
“The most anguishing kind of pain often comes self-inflicted, by way of major transgression of the Lord’s commandments. It is a pain felt when we recognize the gulf that exists between what the Lord has commanded us to do and what we are actually doing. This kind of heavy-duty pain- weighing upon our spirits like lead, piercing us to the soul with self-doubt and self-loathing- is there not just to make is feel remorseful about what we have done. It also serves an important function in the process of repentance.” Pain Is Inevitable Misery Is Optional; Hyrum W. Smith; p.48.
I think it appropriate to individually address my appreciation for some of the people that affected me whilst I lived in that home. I have found that in my desire to be a better man that one important trait I would like to exude is one of gratitude. I feel the need to express my gratitude to certain people. Here goes…
Grant Eggertsen: One thing that I have learned from Grant is that Mormon’s do not have a monopoly on God’s love. I have never felt anything but genuine love and concern from him throughout the time that we have been friends. I remember “coming clean” in my office to him about the darkness of my situation and having nothing change in his behavior towards me. His spouse openly accepted my wife, and befriended her without any sign of judgment. This past Sunday he came to me as a worthy priesthood holder and dedicate my home as a refuge from the world and a place where to gospel could be taught freely. I love that man. In jest, he claims that he doesn’t really care much about people, but I have a different perspective. He is charitable and kind. I hope he knows of my appreciation for him.
Tim Brooks: Tim and I have traveled quite a road as friends. We have disagreed bitterly about things, and shared similar interests and personality traits that have fueled a likely friendship. He was my home teacher for as long as I can remember and I look to him and his friendship in a similar way that I do the home I lived in; he has been there throughout the valleys and the peaks of my life the past few years and along the way I have never felt judgment from him. I hope that our friendship will continue throughout our lives updating each other of the wonderful milestones that will occur along the way. I pray for him in his struggles to feel the worth that he has as a son of God; and hope that he can learn to pray to see things as God does. He will then see what a great man he is and how his influence spans farther than he could ever imagine. Often times as I watch him with his two daughters I feel a twinge of jealousy, for I see in him a father’s love that is abundant and encompassing. He expresses freely his love for his children, a privilege that I wish we shared.
Bishop Nipko: My most memorable “snapshot” of Bishop Nipko happened August 22, 2004. In the events that transpired that day, he came with me as my advocate. After we adjourned I was very emotional and feeling alone. With tears in his eyes he embraced me and reminded me that what had just happened was not a punishment, but a sign that God loved me and needed me to learn His way more fully. Since that time he has served diligently as my leader giving council and love when I needed it. He listened to my heartache and concerns, and sympathized with me. He was without guile. He represented the Savior well as my Bishop. I hope that his life continues to be blessed in the way that it has and that others can get to know him and appreciate who he is.
There are more things I could write about each one of those men, but I choose to leave my words as they are. I feel excitement for the future and what the Lord has in store. As I write I feel a portion of my shame fall away and become hope. To quote Edward R. Murrow, “Good night, and good luck.”
“The most anguishing kind of pain often comes self-inflicted, by way of major transgression of the Lord’s commandments. It is a pain felt when we recognize the gulf that exists between what the Lord has commanded us to do and what we are actually doing. This kind of heavy-duty pain- weighing upon our spirits like lead, piercing us to the soul with self-doubt and self-loathing- is there not just to make is feel remorseful about what we have done. It also serves an important function in the process of repentance.” Pain Is Inevitable Misery Is Optional; Hyrum W. Smith; p.48.
I think it appropriate to individually address my appreciation for some of the people that affected me whilst I lived in that home. I have found that in my desire to be a better man that one important trait I would like to exude is one of gratitude. I feel the need to express my gratitude to certain people. Here goes…
Grant Eggertsen: One thing that I have learned from Grant is that Mormon’s do not have a monopoly on God’s love. I have never felt anything but genuine love and concern from him throughout the time that we have been friends. I remember “coming clean” in my office to him about the darkness of my situation and having nothing change in his behavior towards me. His spouse openly accepted my wife, and befriended her without any sign of judgment. This past Sunday he came to me as a worthy priesthood holder and dedicate my home as a refuge from the world and a place where to gospel could be taught freely. I love that man. In jest, he claims that he doesn’t really care much about people, but I have a different perspective. He is charitable and kind. I hope he knows of my appreciation for him.
Tim Brooks: Tim and I have traveled quite a road as friends. We have disagreed bitterly about things, and shared similar interests and personality traits that have fueled a likely friendship. He was my home teacher for as long as I can remember and I look to him and his friendship in a similar way that I do the home I lived in; he has been there throughout the valleys and the peaks of my life the past few years and along the way I have never felt judgment from him. I hope that our friendship will continue throughout our lives updating each other of the wonderful milestones that will occur along the way. I pray for him in his struggles to feel the worth that he has as a son of God; and hope that he can learn to pray to see things as God does. He will then see what a great man he is and how his influence spans farther than he could ever imagine. Often times as I watch him with his two daughters I feel a twinge of jealousy, for I see in him a father’s love that is abundant and encompassing. He expresses freely his love for his children, a privilege that I wish we shared.
Bishop Nipko: My most memorable “snapshot” of Bishop Nipko happened August 22, 2004. In the events that transpired that day, he came with me as my advocate. After we adjourned I was very emotional and feeling alone. With tears in his eyes he embraced me and reminded me that what had just happened was not a punishment, but a sign that God loved me and needed me to learn His way more fully. Since that time he has served diligently as my leader giving council and love when I needed it. He listened to my heartache and concerns, and sympathized with me. He was without guile. He represented the Savior well as my Bishop. I hope that his life continues to be blessed in the way that it has and that others can get to know him and appreciate who he is.
There are more things I could write about each one of those men, but I choose to leave my words as they are. I feel excitement for the future and what the Lord has in store. As I write I feel a portion of my shame fall away and become hope. To quote Edward R. Murrow, “Good night, and good luck.”
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
Another Rambling... Isn't This Horse Already Dead?
I am feeling compelled to write today. It falls outside of the norm of when I write but something is drawing me to the page. Yesterday was a great day and today has brought some feelings to my heart that I would like to express.
Yesterday I went skiing with my cousin, Jake. Jake and I have always been friends; ever since the time when I first moved to Utah I had always felt a certain kinship with him. We went to Powder Mountain; a resort that is up in Ogden Canyon and is about an hour’s drive away. There were very few people there and the snow and weather were gorgeous; adding to an already great day because of the company. He is six years younger than I am yet we share almost all of the same interests; we appreciate the same thrills for recreation, I guess I would say. We have worked together on two different occasions; the first at Deer Valley as a mountain bike instructor and second as a rental technician when I managed the rental shop at Snowbird. I think that is where we really started to build a friendship that extends further than the blood lines that tie us together.
One of the reasons I reference Jake is that I have really appreciated his influence in my life lately. We spoke briefly yesterday about the dynamic that has evolved in the extended family that I have here in Utah since the breakup of my marriage a few years ago. At one time I was on very familiar relations with all of my aunts, uncles and cousins that live here locally. Things have changed since then, and even the close relationship that I had with his parents has changed significantly. I thanked him for the constant love that I have felt from him and his wife despite a very easy road they could have chosen to remove me from their daily lives. There were many things that I didn’t say to Jake yesterday about how real my appreciation is for him and what his acceptance means to me. Someday he might have the chance to read this, and I hope that however his life has transpired that he would know of my great love for him.
Today a thought crossed my mind. What if I knew when I would leave this earth and how would that change my behavior today…how would I be? In thinking that way I briefly examined the relationships that I have in my life and felt an instilled desire to express my love to those who I care for. The first people that came to my mind were my children, then my family, relatives, friends… I would leave this world a sad man if the intents of my heart weren’t made known to those whom have affected me in an uplifting way.
I watched a movie recently about a man who was dying who went to a certain type of doctor for help in prolonging his life. The doctor upon examining him told him that he had a lot of anger inside and it was a poison to his body. He needed to forgive those who had offended him. He said, “the last second of your life is the most important. The seed for your next life is all that exists in that one last second. All the hurt and anger will follow you. Up until that last second it’s not too late to change what you bring with you and forgive.” Not all of that statement is true, as far as God sees things, but it does lend itself to probing thought. I carry with me a lot of anger, and a lot of hurt. I know that I have hurt people and destroyed some very sacred agreements yet I still feel that it is me who needs to forgive in my heart. I think about some of the things that have happened to me and do not feel that the punishment fits the crime. Maybe that is the proof I need to know that I do not truly understand to what magnitude I fell, but I have crossed the bridge knowing the manner to which I handled things was truly and ultimately wrong. Regardless, I take from this a sense of who really loves me and cares about me and an urgency to get past these feelings. Twisting my statement above, I would leave this world a sad man if the intents of my heart were made known to those whom have affected me. I believe that these feelings can be fleeting and I can move on.
In concluding this entry today I do not offer any resolution. I only make the step of recognizing these feelings as real. I remind myself that I am surrounded by people who do care for me and my welfare. I remind myself that time heals a number of wounds and that my children will have a chance to be around me in their lives. I remind myself that God loves me, and I am a good man. The atonement is real for everyone, especially me.
Sunday, March 12, 2006
Therefore, I Would That Ye Should Be Perfect, Even As I Or Your Father In Heaven Is Perfect... 3 Nephi 12:48
The entry preceding this one was actually written on Friday morning, two days ago. I posted it today because it was one of the times where I had felt so unsettled in what I had written that before I posted it I let it marinate for a few days. I then went back and read what I wrote, changed it and then found it to be blog worthy.
I have been thinking this week about a number of different things. Today in sacrament meeting a former gospel doctrine teacher in our ward spoke about the principle and doctrine of perfection. In the scriptures we are commanded to be perfect, and it is only in understanding what that means are we able to accomplish that invitation. Today as I have thought about the details of my life and how the future may unfold I have felt a need to understand how to be perfect. I do not believe that it is merely the realizing of a checklist of commandments to which the Savior references. Brigham Young spoke of how “the Father is only as perfect as He has capacity to be, and that [Brigham Young] is only as perfect as [he] has capacity to be.” I understand this to mean that whatever knowledge and understanding we possess currently we are held to and that is the bar to which we are judged. This in no way removes the responsibility to obey the Lord’s commandments, for even if we are not aware of them we still have a need to follow them. What is does mean is that we must, at all times, act in the way that we should act. It changes everyday because of our decisions; being perfect today will directly affect my ability and choice to be perfect tomorrow. I have struggled being in the state that I am not having some of the same opportunities I as once had to try to be more that I can be. I received a bit of hope knowing that there is a reason that our lives are as long as they are. There are so many chances to change the course of action our lives take and move toward a better way. I don’t know if that made any sense, but having heard what I did today has motivated me to be better; a sure sign that it is a true principle in that it has changed my behavior.
One of the other challenges that I have been facing is maintaining a spiritual atmosphere in my home, especially on Sundays. The combination of the way I used to handle Sundays and the way my wife used to has sort of blended into a Sabbath where at the end I long for more peace. I am not insinuating that it is because of her in the least, but I do feel that my own commitment to keeping the Sabbath must be more perfect. I feel the Spirit as I keep the commandment to write in this journal and speak of things of the Lord so I know that it is a matter of decision to make it happen. I feel a lot of pressure (whether it is warranted or not, I don’t know yet) to try and undo 3.5 years of spiritual indifference in the life of my stepson so that he can have a testimony early on but lately have felt like I am not in control of that anymore. I don’t know if I have written about this or not, but Dorian’s father has moved back into town and has started taking him for a majority of the weekends. He spends Sundays watching cartoons, shopping and playing with his dad. I know that out of all the people that are close to Dorian I am one of the few people that has an interest in his spiritual well-being to the point of action, so I feel torn and once again hand-cuffed in that relationship/responsibility. Things have gotten better with me and him so I will never give up hope that what’s right can happen. Maybe this is one of the times where I cannot be more perfect than I am; meaning that as long as I make things of the Spirit a priority in our home what’s best will happen.
Following the perfection theme, I have been struggling with the relationship I have with one of my friends. I have written specifically in entry’s past about Doug and what a great friend he has been and how grateful I am for him. I do not retract those feelings, matter of fact I add that I miss those times when I felt that way. Doug is a great person. He is very charismatic, has a very tender heart and has a true desire to act as the Spirit would have him. Doug and I have shared many experiences that have reminded me of the love of the Savior for me by blessing me with good friends. Since he has moved out things have been strained at best; I have been reminded that he is selfish, arrogant and an opportunist in its’ purest form. I sometimes lament that I allowed him to live here with me under terms that I did, he was able to be blessed by my family and home with little return given on his part. Sometimes I wonder if the way I handled things then permanently changed something in both of us. I guess I expected more in return for what had been given, and I tempted a rooted flaw in Doug to take advantage of another’s graces. Since he has moved out we hardly speak; when he was here he was never more than 5 feet away from him phone and now I can’t get a call or text message answered, even in the hours which he is away from work. Things have culminated this past week as I was disgusted watching him unabashedly benefit himself over me by manipulating a situation to which I was the reason he was even in the place he was. He has always stated that he is just the way he is and that his friends have always looked past his flaws, but I am at the point where a reconciliation needs to be made or I need to just take a few months off from being around him. He has a brother named Mike that I was friends with before I even met Doug who is in town this weekend; I am torn in wanting to see Mike yet having to face this issue or pretend it doesn’t exist for the time being. I am sure that this is just a fleeting issue between two friends, but for now it is real. I am hopeful that once again what’s right is what happens.
A blog entry wouldn’t be complete without relaying to my beautiful daughters how much I love and miss them. I have started to see a light at the end of the tunnel and have been praying that I could have them closer to me. Catherine had a surgery since the last time I had written and had her birthmark removed from her face. I am grateful that it went smooth and that she was able to have it removed before she knew what it was. Kids can be so cruel. Anyway, I have made some difficult decisions that will hopefully bring them closer, an end that would be so wonderful for everyone involved. Janie Bear and Baby C, I LOVE YOU….
Anyway…life goes on.
I Don't Even Own A Wheel Barrow...
This entry is barely just started and already scattered. I don’t know what to write about. I am sitting here not having written in 12 days, one of the longer spells for me in this journal. It is ironic to me that it feels both as if nothing has happened and that I have missed documenting so much. BLANK…that’s what’s on my mind.
I guess I can resort to my old standby and write about music and how it affects me. I have come across a new band that has me completely enthralled by their music and lyrics. Their name is “The Decemberists” and they hail from Portland, OR. I became aware of them through a website called www.pandora.com that is a part of a project called the “music genome project.” This site analyzes songs and gives them their own DNA, so to speak. You can logon to this site, input a song that you enjoy and it will stream music that has similar musical DNA. I put in a song by another band that I enjoy called "The Shins" and they played “The Decemberists.” I thoroughly enjoy folksy music, not so much old quasi-John Denver-ish folk but story-telling acoustic sounding music. Here is the lyrics to my most favorite song of theirs, entitled “Eli, the Barrow Boy.”
Eli, the barrow boy
Of the old town
Sells coal and marigolds
And he cries out
All down the day
Below the tamaracks
He is crying:
“Corn cobs and candle wax for the buying”
All down the day
“Would I could afford to buy my love a fine robe
Made of gold and silk Arabian thread
She is dead and gone and lying in a pine grove
And I must push my barrow all the day
And I must push my barrow all the day”
Eli, the barrow boy
When they found him
Dressed all in corduroy
He had drowned in
The river down the way
They laid his body down in a church yard
But still when the moon is out
With his push cart
He calls down the day
“Would I could afford to buy my love a fine gown
Made of gold and silk Arabian thread
But, I am dead and gone and lying in a church ground
And still I push my barrow all the day
Still I push my barrow all the day”
Sometimes I don’t fully understand why I enjoy this type of music, but I do. After reading interpretations of the meaning of this song by others on the internet and putting my own spin on it, I more appreciate the depth and layers of a song that I had not seen before. A meager peddler in a time past is going about his life in order to distract himself from the haunting of a tormented love to which he is currently estranged. He takes his own life to be with the love for which he aches only to find that the same haunting exists after his death and he is not with the love to which he laments. What incredible imagery! I love the theme of the song about the necessity that all of us have to treasure what we have and hold on to our precious “loves” to avoid needless torment of our own souls. It is funny to me how easy is can be to recognize a theme as such and appreciate it yet in the same breathe make decisions that go against allowing us to keep with the message of the theme. Humanity is so bi-polar.
Today is Friday, in the morning. I have had a good week at work and have felt very productive. Here at home I have been working together with my wife and stepson to try to have a more cohesive environment. We will be putting the finishing touches on our painting project this weekend making it so that we will be ready to begin moving our belongings. Even though at this time I do not fully recognize what a profound change this move will have on me and my life, I exercise my faith that it will bring a renewed desire to be a part of a loving ward. This move will symbolize the closing of one chapter and the opening of another in my eventful life.
Good Day…
I guess I can resort to my old standby and write about music and how it affects me. I have come across a new band that has me completely enthralled by their music and lyrics. Their name is “The Decemberists” and they hail from Portland, OR. I became aware of them through a website called www.pandora.com that is a part of a project called the “music genome project.” This site analyzes songs and gives them their own DNA, so to speak. You can logon to this site, input a song that you enjoy and it will stream music that has similar musical DNA. I put in a song by another band that I enjoy called "The Shins" and they played “The Decemberists.” I thoroughly enjoy folksy music, not so much old quasi-John Denver-ish folk but story-telling acoustic sounding music. Here is the lyrics to my most favorite song of theirs, entitled “Eli, the Barrow Boy.”
Eli, the barrow boy
Of the old town
Sells coal and marigolds
And he cries out
All down the day
Below the tamaracks
He is crying:
“Corn cobs and candle wax for the buying”
All down the day
“Would I could afford to buy my love a fine robe
Made of gold and silk Arabian thread
She is dead and gone and lying in a pine grove
And I must push my barrow all the day
And I must push my barrow all the day”
Eli, the barrow boy
When they found him
Dressed all in corduroy
He had drowned in
The river down the way
They laid his body down in a church yard
But still when the moon is out
With his push cart
He calls down the day
“Would I could afford to buy my love a fine gown
Made of gold and silk Arabian thread
But, I am dead and gone and lying in a church ground
And still I push my barrow all the day
Still I push my barrow all the day”
Sometimes I don’t fully understand why I enjoy this type of music, but I do. After reading interpretations of the meaning of this song by others on the internet and putting my own spin on it, I more appreciate the depth and layers of a song that I had not seen before. A meager peddler in a time past is going about his life in order to distract himself from the haunting of a tormented love to which he is currently estranged. He takes his own life to be with the love for which he aches only to find that the same haunting exists after his death and he is not with the love to which he laments. What incredible imagery! I love the theme of the song about the necessity that all of us have to treasure what we have and hold on to our precious “loves” to avoid needless torment of our own souls. It is funny to me how easy is can be to recognize a theme as such and appreciate it yet in the same breathe make decisions that go against allowing us to keep with the message of the theme. Humanity is so bi-polar.
Today is Friday, in the morning. I have had a good week at work and have felt very productive. Here at home I have been working together with my wife and stepson to try to have a more cohesive environment. We will be putting the finishing touches on our painting project this weekend making it so that we will be ready to begin moving our belongings. Even though at this time I do not fully recognize what a profound change this move will have on me and my life, I exercise my faith that it will bring a renewed desire to be a part of a loving ward. This move will symbolize the closing of one chapter and the opening of another in my eventful life.
Good Day…
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