'Twas the Night before Inauguration

This is one of those rare times I'm going to share a political message. Fortunately, it's a short one.

Tomorrow at 10:00 a.m. MST, just over nine hours from now, Donald J. Trump will be sworn in as the 45th president of the United States. Meanwhile, other people will just plain swear.

What am I going to do during the Trump years?

I'll try to do what I've done during every other president's administration during my lifetime: support him if/when he's right and oppose him if/when he's wrong.

I also realize he really couldn't care less whether I watch the ceremony on TV or if I boycott it. It won't ultimately matter whether I protest the election from here to Puerto Rico or run around like Chicken Little, shouting that the sky is falling. Even if I did watch the inauguration, I would mainly be looking out and praying for the two Apostles who will be attending the service and also for my friends in the Mormon Tabernacle Choir and the Piano Guys (Steve was the editor of a publication I wrote for in college; Jon was my ward's high councilman) in their performances.

We had the chance to vote a couple of months ago. That is where my "say" in all of this ended. Regardless of who won, I knew then and know now that I would still look to Pres. Thomas S. Monson above anyone else on Earth for the guidance that I really need to help me in my day-to-day living.

What I can control now, however, is which kinds of contributions I make to my family, my workplace, my ward, my neighborhood, and my community. My attitude from here on out is 100 percent up to me. So is what I do about that attitude.

To quote the great Jason Mraz: "I won't worry my life away."

Blank Space

Even though we keep track of time second by second, minute by minute, and so on, science tells us it's all relative.

Nevertheless, I love the concept of beginning a new year. I love the day when I start to fill out an empty calendar with events, birthdays, social gatherings, and so forth. I love the very concept of new beginnings.

The bishop said as much yesterday on the Island of Misfit Toys in his sermon to lead off the new year. For me, one of the key concepts in the gospel of Jesus Christ is that of new beginnings. We get that chance each week with the sacrament of the Lord's supper. We get new chances during the week as we earnestly pray for new strength and opportunities to become better through the Atonement. We get those moments throughout the day if we will look around and see them in the people we interact with, the places we go, and the choices we make. The tender mercies are abundant.

Through social media, you couldn't help observe over the last few weeks that many people have come to the conclusion that 2016 was a a no-good, horrible, very bad year. If you look for them, you'll find the reasons why the glass was half-empty. I am grateful for the many who have also shared, conversely, the reasons why the past year was one of great blessings, as well.

As for myself, I have tried to put my focus on the latter. I've mentioned some of the difficult circumstances I faced in 2016 here on Paco Nation, and I don't think I really need to bring them up again at this point. Let them stay in the past.

Some solid truths I know about where I was 366 days ago versus where I am now: I began 2016 breathing in and breathing out, with a roof over my head, food to eat, a warm bed to sleep in, work to fill my days, enjoyable hobbies to fill my nights and weekends, people who care for me, people to serve, and things to accomplish. Those very basic things, the bare necessities, are everything.

As I look out on the still-very-blank space that is the year 2017, I wonder: What will happen this year? Will it be better than 2016 was? Worse? Will I accomplish bigger and better things? Will I get stuck in a rut? Will trials come my way? Will I have to undergo another unexpected surgery, or will I get healthier this year? Will my unexpected change in employment open new doors for me? Will death strike others who are close to me or close to my friends? Will new lives, including new children (nieces and nephews), enter on the stage? Will the person I've prayed and hoped for make herself known? An even better question: Will I become the kind of person who attracts such a person? Will President Trump get us all sucked down to the tenth level of hell? Or we will he (or at least the people in his cabinet) surprise us all and be better than everyone fears? Is whatever happens on Temple Square or in my house far more important than what takes place in the White House? Can I focus on what I can control rather than the many things out of my control that, in the past, have caused me grief?

My answer to all of the above is yes. It will be what we make of it. I'm grateful to have each of you along for the journey.