Yes, a sports metaphor, or two...

In case you're unaware, I played football in both middle and high school. It was one of the most grueling and trying sports I've ever endured. Physically, it pushed me as hard as I could go. Mentally, it gave me a new perspective.
This post should be considered a continuation of "Pain". I've detracted from the one-word titles for this one because it's a very personal metaphor I'm going to relate.
I played on the line, all 145 scrawny pounds of me. I might have weighed in at 150, soaking wet with all my gear once my muscle had become lean. Playing on the front line is a challenge. The job of any lineman is to keep his quarterback safe. He IS the front line, the first defense for the offense. He HAS to hold his place, or if necessary, move his opponent out of the way, drive him to the goalpost if necessary.
The one drill I remember for getting us to drive and push, both consistently with each other and constantly to the end of the play, was the sled. Five colored dummies were attached to a steel frame made to slide with relative ease, provided that we pushed together and at the right height. The coaches often stood on the frame to add to the challenge. Sometimes we had to push the sled and three coaches. They were often right there near us yelling and screaming that we couldn't give up. We had to keep going. I pushed that sled my share of miles through the 6 years that I played football.
I came to realize that I often confront challenges, trials, pain, anguish, temptation or tribulation the same way I approached the sled. I push against it. I shove. I line up, look it in the eye and drive for all I'm worth. Admittedly, I've done this enough that my emotional or spiritual cleats are worn almost flat. Occasionally they slide. Many times I fall. Whenever I fell while pushing the sled, I got back up. Seems like I face many giants in my life. I'm pushing for all I'm worth. The Lord has assigned some coaches to encourage and to push me. They're mean sometimes. Other days they're tough as nails. They push and yell and scream for me to keep going, but not once have they told me to give up, to quit. It hurts. I cry out in pain and agony sometimes. But I REFUSE to quit. I've not failed, EVER, until I quit.
The following clip comes from the movie Facing the Giants. I couldn't help but feel Brock's pain and frustration as he cries out "I can't! It hurts!" and I couldn't help but feel the encouragement from his coach. I carry a special relationship to this scene. Brock wears my number and he carries Jeremy on his back. I cried, because I've been in that kind of spot. The coaches were pushing, yelling at me to keep going. I felt the tears of relief and accomplishment as he reached the endzone. Christ is the head coach on my football team. He's there along side me, always walking with me.


I also ran distances in high school. As a freshman my track event was the mile. As a sophomore and a junior running 2.5 to 3 miles was conditioning for wrestling. As a senior, I ran cross-country. Running is a grueling and testing sport in it's own right. The physical training is requisite; the mental drive is tantamount. This poem relates a race to life.

Get up and Win the Race
‘Quit’ Give up, your’re beaten!‘ they shout at me and plead.
‘There’s just tto much against you now, this time you can’t succeed.’
And as I started to hang my head in front of failures face,
My downward fall is broken by the memory of a race.
And hope refills my weakened will, as I recall that scene,
And just the thought of that short race rejuvenates my being.
A children’s race. Young boys, young men, I remember well.
Excitement, sure, but also fear; it wasn’t hard to tell
They all lined up so full of hope. The thought to win that race.
Or tie for first, or if not that, at least take second place.
And fathers watched from off the side, each cheering for his son,
And each boy hoped to show his Dad, that he would be the one.
(The whistle blew).
To win, to be the hero there, was each boy’s young desire.
And one boy in particular, his Dad was in the crowd,
Was running near the lead and thought. ‘My Dad will be so proud.‘
But as he sped down the field across a shallow dip,
The little boy who thought to win, lost his step and slipped,
Trying hard to catch himself, his hands flew out to brace,
And mid the laughter of the crowd he fell flat on his face.
So, down he fell and with him hope. He couldn’t win it now.
Embarrassed, sad, he only wished to disappear somehow.
But, as he fell, his Dad stood up and showed his anxious face.
Which to the boy so clearly said, ‘Get up and win the race!‘
He quickly rose, no damage done, behind a bit that’s all,
And ran with all his mind and might to make up for his fall.
So anxious to restore himself, to catch up and to win,
His mind went faster than his legs. He slipped and fell again.
He wished that he had quit before with only one disgrace.
‘I’m hopeless as a runner now, I shouldn’t try to race.‘
But, in the laughing crowd he searched and found his father’s face,
That steady look that said again, ‘Get up and win the race.‘
So up he jumped to try again, ten yards behind the last,
‘If I’m to gain those yards,’ he thought, ‘I’ve got to run real fast.‘
Expanding everything he had, he regained eight or ten
But trying so hard to catch the lead, he slipped and fell again.
‘Defeat!‘ He lay there silently, a tear dropped from his eye.
‘There’s no sense running any more, three strikes, I’m out, why try?‘
The will to rise had disappeared, all hope had fled away,
So far behind, so error prone, closer all the way.
‘I’ve lost so what’s the use?’ he thought, ‘I’ll live with my disgrace.‘
‘Get up‘, an echo sounded low, ‘Get up,’ it said, ‘you haven’t lost it all.
For winning is no more than this: to rise each time you fall.“
So he rose to win once more, and with a new commit,
He resolved that win or lose, at least he wouldn’t quit,
So far behind the others now, the most he’d ever been,
Still he gave it all he had and ran as through to win.
Three times he’d fallen, three times he rose again.
They cheered the winning runner as he crossed the line, first place,
Head high and proud and happy; no falling, no disgrace.
But when the fallen youngster crossed the finishing line, last place,
The crowd gave him the greater cheer for finishing the race,
And even though he came in last, with head bowed low, unproud,
You would have thought he won the race, to listen to the crowd.
And to his dad he sadly said, ‘I didn’t do so well.‘
‘To me you won.‘ His father said. ‘You rose each time you fell.‘
And now when times seem dark and hard and difficult to face,.
For all of life is like that race, with ups and downs and all,
And all you have to do to win is rise each time you fall,
‘Quit! Give up you’re beaten!‘ they still shout in my face,
But another voice within me says, ‘Get up and win the race!‘
-Author Unknown -

Submission

Several topics float in my mind this morning, but I believe I know which one I shall address. Frankly, it's an interesting topic that has great reward, if you're willing to follow through. It's a principle that many strive to apply; I can say I make a strong effort to do so. And I have the perfect example of it to follow.
All of us have our own individual desires. The things we want to do and try to do are limitless. In most instances this is good. It's important to have goals and dreams that are our own. Occasionally we pit our desires against the fence the Lord has set up to protect us. This fence is, of course, the standard code of conduct. I will not delve into defining these standards; just understand that I will refer to them from time to time.
The Lord told Isaiah "For my thoughts are not your thoughts neither are my ways your ways. For as the heavens are higher than the earth so are my thoughts higher than your thoughts." (Isaiah 55:8-9). It's quite apparent that our thoughts and ideas are not always the same as the Lord's. Even when we elevate our thoughts it's possible to still not reach that altitude. But as we strive to make our thoughts and ways, our very lifestyles, such as the Lord would want we rise above the spiritual smog that surrounds us. When we learn to humble ourselves to the point that we echo the Savior's word "not my will but Thine be done" we lose ourselves. The petty little things we do everyday lose meaning. We see others the way God sees them. We want what He wants. Spencer W. Kimball once said, "When obedience ceases to be an annoyance and becomes our quest then will the Lord endow us with power from on high." Let us make obedience our quest, our desire. Let it be our burning passion. Do we need to ask the Lord about everything under the skies? No. Include him in the big decisions. Ask him when you're confused. Follow the answer you receive. Do this and He will give you strength beyond what you have ever known.

Pain

I've found over the last few months that I deal with emotional/mental pain in an interesting way. Rather than screaming from some unknown mountain peak or crying endless rivers of sorrow I turn inward. Often times, I write, whether on this blog or in my journal. Then I pray. Prayer links me to God, gives me strength to support what I may be feeling. I never ask for the pain or the situation causing me pain to go away. Rather, I ask the Lord to help me to bear the burden.
He's come to my aide so many times. I have no doubt that in any other time of trial or tribulation He will strengthen me. As diligently as I seek him, he will come to my side in some manner. Be it that the pain subsides or the situation changes, He succors me. I know that He does support those who seek him out.

Desire

I recommend you read the post on my other blog titled "Sacred Sunday #1" (http://thismusictouchesme.blogspot.com/2010/07/sacred-sunday-1.html). The final strain of this moving song is "When I reach my journey's end / How I hope that He will call me friend". Deep down this is one of my deepest desires. The want to be a friend of God isn't just a nice idea nor is it an interesting philosophy; it is the foundation for faithful living. When all is said and done, it is the only thing that will matter because being a friend of God entails a great deal, but can be expressed in simple terms.
John the Beloved recorded this one-liner spoken by the Lord in chapter 15, verse 14. "Ye are my friends if ye do whatsoever I command ye." To be the Lord's friend means but one thing, to obey his commandments. Obedience is the strongest, loudest, most sincere and profound of expression of our love toward God the Father and His Son Jesus. Hence we must learn and keep the commandments. We must find within ourselves the God-given strength to carry out His will in every and all circumstances. We must live the gospel, knowing that through our faith, repentance, baptism in water and by the Spirit, endurance, and primarily through the grace of God and the Atonement of Christ we will be cleansed and forgiven of our sins and be permitted into the Lord's rest. We must love the Lord above all else. We must love our neighbors as ourselves.
The prophet of the Book of Mormon, Nephi, explained, "for it is by grace that we are saved, after all that we can do." I may attain to a finite perfection in the sense that eventually I may master myself completely and live every commandment applicable in the latter-days, but that still will not wipe my sins clean. I can only confess, feel sorrow for and abandon my sins. I cannot remove the stain from my spiritual garments (Revelation 7:14). Many scriptures, including the one immediately preceding this statement, explain how sin is forgiven and perfection attained. Personally, I like this one found in Moroni chapter 10, verse 32:
"Yea, come unto Christ, and be perfected in him, and deny yourselves of all ungodliness; and if ye shall deny yourselves of all ungodliness, and love God with all your might, mind and strength, then is his grace sufficient for you, that by his grace ye may be perfect in Christ; and if by the grace of God ye are perfect in Christ, ye can in nowise deny the power of God."
I want to be a friend of God. The road ahead is long and difficult, but not impassable. A radio station was recommended to me last week by a friend. While listening one day a phrase was sung that applies to these thoughts. "Impossible is just an excuse for someone not to try."
It is through the grace, mercy and blood of Christ that we are saved, after all that we can do. All that we can do is abandon our sins to Him and love and serve Him and our fellow neighbors.

Fear

Friday and Saturday were great days. A great weekend has begun, from the very start. My singles ward went camping at a place eleven miles outside of Kamas, UT. I love the ward camp out. I and another brother spent some time raising tents for sisters. I hiked up the hillside a little ways. Being surrounded by trees I deduced that the ridge would also be covered by trees and abandoned my climb to the top. Dinner was great. The variety show that followed was better still. The testimony meeting was inspiring. I didn't want it to end so quickly, but end the outing did. Better things are yet to come.
I mingled with many people. One young lady has really impressed me. She served a mission, has graduated college, and, as near as I can tell, lives a solidly Christian life. In short, she's virtuous. I've met many people, but none quite so strong. I wanted to ask her out, but held my tongue. I hesitated. Trepidation slipped in and I didn't ask her. Why did I let fear hold me captive?
Like I said, she's impressive. If a romantic relationship were to develop, I feel like there would be a lot to live up to. My rough edges seem sharper, harder somehow. Maybe fear set in because she seems so much better than I.
All of us face fear. It seems to have become second nature since the fall of Adam. After disobeying the Lord's command, Adam and Eve felt afraid. Since then fear has ruled men's hearts. Mankind has waged war because of fear. Some refuse callings from the Lord. Others lash out in fear.
God doesn't want us to fear. The "fear of the Lord" the Bible describes isn't the trembling fear we're accustomed to. It's love, respect and reverence. "For God hath not given us the spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind. Therefore be not ashamed of the testimony of Christ..." (2 Timothy 1:7-8).
I used to seek out more supporting statements, but this one scripture suffices the need. Do not fear. Live boldly.

More thoughts today...

You'll have to see my other blog, the one about music, and read the very first post. My first selection was a song by Skillet about living today. There's an urgency in the song. A strong encouragement to live TODAY. I love the reminder that tomorrow could be too late. Yet there lies deep in my memory the lessons learned from Robert Frost and his poem After Apple Picking. I myself wanted to come and "pick apples" in life. I'll do the best I can, but I know that in the end I won't reach every one of the golden apples on the tree. Nor will I get them all into my barrel. Some will fall by the wayside. Some will find their utility, not by being eaten, but in being crushed and ground into cider. It's the nature of the work. It happens. The apples in the barrel will be washed and eaten. The ones I let fall will be made into cider. They'll be useful. The ones in the tree, well they'll be left for someone else to grab. Some of them just might be too far out on a limb or too high up in the tree for me, but that won't stop another from obtaining them.
After all these thoughts, I think I'll put one more song onto my music blog today. If you'd like to read the poem, it can be found here: http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/after-apple-picking/

Update

I'll give quite a condensed report of the last couple of weeks. They've been interesting, to say the least. Last weekend was the Independence Day celebration. For me nothing beats the hometown activities so I ventured to Salina for a few days. While there I built a bond and fell in love with a beautiful young lady. Don't worry, she's family; she's my 10 month-old niece. My sister being bedridden for yet another week I believe wanted me to take her daughter out of the house. The poor girl ends up staying in the same room and her mommy and doesn't get to play much. I took this sweetheart to the Salina parade. We walked there. Or rather, Josh (one of my brothers) and I took turns pushing her stroller down the street. She and I shared a chair. The next morning she and I shared a spot in the chapel for sacrament meeting. I played with this pure child as often as I could during my trip. I fell in love with her.
The last week had a few exciting occurrences. Thursday my grandparents commemorated their fiftieth anniversary. We surprised them by meeting at a restaurant together for dinner. The diner was a really nice Japanese place. The cook did all his work on a grill in front of us. He even threw shrimp into our mouths. Last night a few friends and I got together for a BBQ and, afterwards, to swim. I had almost forgotten how much I love being surrounded completely by water. I love being able to move in all three dimensions without much trouble. The evening was topped off with a shindig nearby. We ate classic party snacks, jokes, threw around a Frisbee and started a movie. I left before the movie however. The party was enjoyable and new people abounded.