2020 Vision

For one of my first clichéd and/or peer-inspired posts of the year 2020, here's one about goals.

The end of a calendar year/start of a new one is a good time for assessment of where one has been and where one is going. It must be, I guess, because I've been seeing a lot of "decade-in-review" posts by family and friends on social media lately. (These are great, by the way.)

As for me: It was just a few, short years ago that my life was a bit of a country song, minus the obsession with beer and dirty boots. I was living in the basement at my brother's house. I had a job but was somewhat underemployed; probably not coincidentally, I was in some degree of debt. My car was on its last legs and would soon die forever. I was active in my LDS singles (social) group, and though I wasn't technically inactive in the ward where I attended church, I was going through a period of time when I was less involved in my discipleship than I had been at better times. I was also in my 30s and was frustrated and despondent after decades of dating, which seemed to have led to only futility.

In short, I wasn't happy with a lot of things. This brother of mine cared enough about me to sit down with me and ask me how I felt about these matters, and also what I wanted to do about changing them.

With his help, I set some goals: Get a full-time job. Simultaneously, save money/get out of debt/get a better car. Move out into an apartment or home. Recommit to attending all of my Sunday meetings, and actually serve in my ward calling instead of just being there. Be worthy of a temple recommend, and use it. Oh yeah---get married. (I used to lose sleep over this last one, because it's just about the hardest one of all; you can't reach this goal on your own!)

It wasn't enough to set these goals (some of which took months to complete, while others took years); I also set weekly and daily goals (spending a certain amount of time daily and weekly job searching and interviewing, for example) to make them happen. My brother then followed up with me as those days and weeks went by.

Not too long ago, I spent some one-on-one time with this brother, who brought up the goals and reminded me that I had achieved every one of them.

I have been working full-time for a number of years now. I have been out of debt for over four years, and I bought a new (used) car. I rarely use a credit card and try to pay cash/use debit for things when and wherever possible (I highly recommend this). By recommitting myself to fully participate in my church meetings, I met my wife in the new singles ward I joined, and we were sealed in the temple. We are both active in our current ward and love serving and being served by the good people in it. We share a wonderful home together, which we are currently in the process of remodeling and furnishing.

Perhaps I have a friend or friends reading this who are wondering something like, Well, that's all well and good for you, but I'm never going to find (job) or (wife/husband) or (fill in the blank). I'm tired of giving and giving and failing every time, and I don't want to give any more. To that I say, I understand, because I've been where you've been. I was that way for a long time. To a large degree, I now understand that it was negative thought patterns of depression that caused me to feel and think that way.

It was a very wise man who taught that "the Lord God gave unto man that he should act for himself ... and not to be acted upon" (2 Nephi 2:16, 26).

Ultimately, we have to decide to take charge of the things we can control and act for ourselves. That requires a lot of effort, obstacles, failure, trying again, failure, more obstacles, trying again, rinse, and repeat.

When it comes to those d- and m-words (dating and marriage)---those can be some of the toughest and cruelest battles of all. Once again, they require another person's own free will, someone who will choose to want to be you. You can't make people like you (confound that precious free agency!), but you can cultivate your character and do other things to make yourself more likable. Your chances of attracting someone with the same goals also rise significantly if you put yourself in places (cough singles wards cough) to meet such a person. Though you can't control when you'll marry, you can control whether you are worthy to marry in the temple.

Conversely, if you don't put yourself in those kinds of places or stop trying altogether, your chances of being successful in dating plummet significantly. A number of friends my age, I fear, have reached this point or have already been there for years, and my heart breaks for you. If my humble story is worth anything to those friends, I plead with you to do yourself a favor and try again. It is the only way to succeed, even though there are indeed careless people who may yet still toss your heart into a crock pot and slow roast it ... like careless people do.

It's been said that hindsight is 20/20, and to a large extent, I can look back and see now how I was being blessed amid the frustration and the setbacks. I look at those past few years, and they've gone by somewhat quickly in a way. The Lord has promised, "I will order all things for your good, as fast as ye are able to receive them" (D&C 111:11). If I hadn't been ready to move quickly when some of those opportunities came up, I might have missed one or more!

Despitefully Used

The year 2019 hasn't gotten off to such a great start for me. At the moment, I feel downright awful.

For a number of years now (more than a decade, in fact), I've been a contractor for a local business. At some points, it's been my only job; at other times, it's been supplemental work. Over that time, I've had more than one "Will this ever become a full-time possibility?" conversation with the Powers That Be, and always the answer has been that there isn't enough work to warrant that happening.

Nevertheless, when they've asked me to do something, I have done it. When they've needed me in a pinch to meet a publishing deadline, I've dropped what I was doing multiple times to rearrange my schedule, often working around the clock to get my assignments done. When they've said "Jump!" I've asked "how high?" And to boot, I believe I've done so while being paid much less than others doing similar work in my field.

Well, just this past week, the same Powers That Be not only informed me that a whole team has been hired and has for some time now been working full-time doing the same work they used to send my way, but to add insult to injury, they also told me there probably wasn't anything else for me to do for them in the future. Essentially, they have disavowed my existence, not unlike how the government would disavow Tom Cruise were he ever to fail at his impossible mission.

It would be ungentlemanly of me to elaborate any further or to reveal names. This is where I'm at right now. I feel liked a used Kleenex and not in any sense a valued human being or employee.

In His Sermon on the Mount, the Savior spoke of "them which despitefully use you" (Matthew 5:44).

Incidentally, I was there at the Conference Center last month for the First Presidency's Christmas Devotional, just a few dozen rows back from President Russell M. Nelson when he spoke on this very topic:

"(The Lord) gave you and me an unlimited capacity to love. That includes the capacity to love the unlovable and those who not only do not love you but presently persecute you and despitefully use you."

Later on in the same talk, he added:

"Through His infinite Atonement, you can forgive those who have hurt you and who may never accept responsibility for their cruelty to you.

"It is usually easy to forgive one who sincerely and humbly seeks your forgiveness. But the Savior will grant you the ability to forgive anyone who has mistreated you in any way. Then their hurtful acts can no longer canker your soul."

Little did I know at that moment how much I needed to hear those words and to re-read them again tonight. My soul needs some serious un-cankering right now.

There is an old saying that another door opens when one door closes. I believe this is one of those times for me.

What does that mean, exactly? Well, the full phrase in the scripture, now that I read it again, is to "pray for them which despitefully use you." I can start there.

I also happened on this wise counsel from a friend on social media just the other day, and I believe it's the path that I now want to follow:

"Want to 'get back' at people that did wrong by you earlier in life?
1. Forgive them.
2. Don't show them how successful you are; show them how happy you are.
3. Wish them well, mean it and move on.
4. Repeat 1-3 for everyone on your 'wronged me' list."

It's the only path that make sense, and it's something I'm going to work hard at doing right now and throughout the year. It's good advice not only for work relationships but also for every other one, like dealing with exes, misunderstandings between friends, and the bullies who once made my life a living hell.

Summer Work Party

Since neither of my workplaces hold summer shindigs (ones I'm invited to, anyhow; not that I am bitter), we at least got to attend JB's work party a couple of Saturdays ago. It was a beautiful evening for a BBQ, minus the bees, which, with the changing season just around the corner, will soon be banished back to that hell that spawned them.

OK then! We journeyed up to Syracuse to the home of one of JB's co-workers. I got to meet her boss, as well as several co-workers and their families, and they are wonderful people. One of the kids present was one-year-old Madison, who stuck her fingers inside JB's mouth like this:

I am tempted to do the same to JB with my own fingers nearly every day, so it's not really that unusual. (Tom Jones said so.)

Following dinner, we cooked woofums, which I swear is a real word, or at least I now understand is an actual thing that people cook. Basically, you stick some dough on the end of one of these tiki torch-like sticks, as goofball JB demonstrates here:

. . . and then you roast it over an open fire:

After all of this has been accomplished, you put jelly, jam, or cream filling on the now-cooked bread, roll it up like a pie, and eat it.

I'm certainly not great at it, this being my first time making woofums (what a fun word to both say and type), but we enjoyed the process nonetheless. The company was enjoyable, too.

Mr. Paco's Opus

My copies of these four books arrived in the mail yesterday. I co-authored them along with a handful of other talented writers and editors. (To be honest, though, I am responsible for somewhere between two-thirds and three-quarters of the content.)

The Reading Horizons Reading Library (fourth edition) contains hundreds of passages on various topics of interest for beginning readers, totaling more than 800 pages altogether. They are the product of countless hours of brainstorming, research, writing, editing, rewriting, and rewriting again over the past decade. The topics include everything from animals, Earth science, biology, sports, and technology to culture, famous places, world historical figures, famous firsts and even pumpkin chunking, parkour, and the legend of the Chupacabras, to name just a few.

It's been a labor of love for all involved, and I'm grateful for what we have created together and for the many who will benefit from using the Library. I've been a contractor for Reading Horizons for almost 11 years now. I would recommend our methods and products to every beginning or struggling reader and ESL student.

Never Really Gone

With only 13(!) days remaining in the year 2017, I look back today at the year that was. And I'm amazed at what an incredible year it's been and just how much can change in only 365 days.

Paco hasn't blogged all that much this year, as a friend pointed out to me earlier today. Other than putting up a number of family photos (really one of the most important things I think I could do) and "postcard" posts, that is. This is true. Hopefully, a lack of original blogging this year has been at the expense of a greater good in my day-to-day life.

I have had my new job for almost a year now, one I was searching for a year ago at this time. I'm free from debt (knock on wood). I have done a lot more improv and have expanded my horizons, performing with new people in my troupe (while others have moved on), and like two snowflakes, no two performances have yet been the same. I even got out of town for a rare weekend for someone who doesn't take many vacations these days; yes, I even made it to the Idaho side of Bear Lake!

Every day, I wake up, get out of bed, and accomplish daily tasks, while working on monthly and yearly goals. I am reminded of the great blessing inherent in this simple fact. Goodreads just reminded me that I have read 27 books in 2017 (which will be 28 by week's end), or approximately one book every two weeks. One of those books was the Book of Mormon, which I have now read . . . I don't know how many times. I began this latest read-through in February and completed it in October.

I was involved in two car accidents in July and September, neither one my fault: rear-ended both times. I am incredibly grateful I was not injured any worse than I was (whiplash only). My car, however, required nearly $3,000 in repairs.

Like the citizens in Whoville who cry out to Horton: "I am here!" I'm still breathing. I am still ticking. In spite of the challenges I face and those I have overcome, as well as those yet to be overcome, I am grateful to be here.

Oh, and the most significant happenings of the year have occurred family wise. First and foremost, I have a fiancée(!) with whom I'd gone out on two dates a year ago today. How did I get here? How did I ever get to be so richly blessed? I may not learn the answers for a while yet. Still, it's yet another reason my heart is full of gratitude at this holiday season and my cup runneth over.

In the past three months, I've been blessed with two new nephews. The nibling count is up to 14! They are the most amazing kids an uncle could ask for.

Last but not certainly not least, one of the most important happenings of the year 2017: We lost Dad in April after a lengthy battle with dementia. Earlier today, I drove past the place where I last saw him in this mortal sphere. On that day, I had the chance to spend some time with him, embrace him, and tell him once again, "I love you." Within a few, short hours, he was gone. I will be forever grateful for the prompting to go and see him that day, to not put it off until another time.

The jogging of that memory saddened me once again for a brief moment today. We recently had our first Thanksgiving in which his chair was empty. Just a couple of weeks ago, his namesake, Tanner Brent, was given his name and blessing. And now we are in the midst of our first Christmas season without Dad. For me, the wound is a bit fresh still.

Also today, I found myself reflecting on a scene in Star Wars: The Last Jedi, which I saw for a second time (there will definitely be a few more in the coming weeks; go figure!) last night.

STOP READING HERE IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THE MOVIE YET AND DON'T WANT TO READ WHAT MAY BE A MINOR SPOILER.

When Luke visits Leia, and he hands her a trinket of Han's that hung in the Millennium Falcon, he reminds her that those we love who depart our mortal existence are "ever really gone."

THIS IS THE POINT AT WHICH THE POTENTIAL SPOILER ENDS AND YOU MAY KEEP READING IF YOU WISH.

When I returned home from completing various tasks today, there was this incredibly beautiful poem on the doorstep, gifted by one of our neighbors down the street:

The girl who delivered this, I am told, lost her own mother when just three months old, after which, just a couple of years ago, she also lost her stepmother to cancer. I believe this girl is wise beyond her years. I'm speechless at this incredible gesture.

Without trying to sound too much like Linus in "A Charlie Brown Christmas," that's really what this Christmas season is all about; that those we lose, because of the holy child born in Bethlehem, are never really gone. And that is basically the greatest gift we could ever receive from an all-wise, all-loving Father in Heaven. With the birth of this baby is the gentle reminder that death, too, is part of the plan.

One day, we, too, will each spend our first Christmas with the Lord. In the meantime, I'm grateful to spend this one with all of you, to "have . . . a merry little Christmas now."

"And so, as Tiny Tim observed: God bless us, every one!"

Death, Taxes, and Other Sure Things

I recently gave a talk in church. The occasion, in case you hadn't guessed from my recent posts, was Dad's funeral. Here is what I spoke about:

There is an old saying that the only sureties in life are death and taxes. Well, Dad passed away April 15.

Dad had a great sense of humor. But in all seriousness, and in the few minutes I have today, I'd like to talk about some of the most important things he gave me (besides nearsightedness and the bald spot):

1) Time. President Dieter F. Uchtdorf taught: "In family relationships, love is really spelled T-I-M-E." Dad gave us his time, and he was thoroughly invested in our lives. Whether it was yelling from the sidelines as a coach or just an anxious parent, he was there at our basketball and soccer games and hardly ever missed one. He supported us in our hobbies and interests. We knew he cared, and his love language was the time he gave.

2) Work. Dad taught us to work. The plowboy who grew up on a farm in Smithfield and learned the value of an honest day's labor taught his children that you don't get something for nothing and you have to work for it. We were given an allowance, but we had to do our chores (weeding, mowing the lawn, etc.) to earn it. For years, we had a paper route, waking up at 5:00 or 5:30 a.m. even on school days and holidays, and he worked right alongside us, never taking a cent for himself. Those lessons carried me through part-time jobs in high school and college and into the present.

3) He taught me five simple words that stand out: excuse me, please, and thank you. I vividly remember him teaching me to use these words when I was growing up. Good manners were and are important. Knowing and using these words have helped me open countless doors in my daily interactions with people and my work experience.

Though Dad passed on a Saturday night, as a family we left the hospital when it was already Sunday morning. Easter Sunday! The timing of it all, we think, was not a coincidence. And the most important message in the world is still, as the Prophet Joseph Smith described, that Jesus Christ "died, was buried, and rose again the third day, and ascended into heaven; and all other things which pertain to our religion are only appendages to it."

In a world rife with "fake news," rumors of wars, fads that come and go, the philosophies of men, and other false Christs the prophets saw would be abundant in our day, my knowledge of the Atonement and Resurrection of Jesus Christ is, in addition to death and taxes, the third sure thing in my life; and not only do I believe it, but I also know it through the Holy Spirit.

In the New Testament, Paul said that "this thing (the gospel) was not done in a corner" (Acts 26:26), and Peter spoke of the world's "cunningly devised fables" (2 Peter 1:16). Elder Jeffrey R. Holland recently spoke on "cunningly devised fables" in his Face 2 Face event:

"This is not a cunningly devised fable. This is God's truth. I want all of you here and afar to know that I know that this is the work and kingdom of God on earth. I am more certain of that than anything I know, anything I have seen, anything I have ever heard, and anything I hope to embrace in the future."

Today, I echo what he taught. When we talk of the concepts of resurrection and eternal families, not only are these good or neat ideas; I testify that they are true! And that knowledge carries me at this time and will carry me in future days.

In an all-wise, all-loving Heavenly Father's magnificent plan, there is so much more in store for us than wearing halos and playing harps in heaven! He has so much more in store for us, and it is beautiful and wonderful to think of. Death is a necessary part of that plan. Though we mourn today, we also rejoice.

Paul said: "For now we see through a glass, darkly" (1 Corinthians 13:12). I know that Dad now sees clearly. I take great hope in the knowledge that he is reunited with his parents, my Uncle Dexter, and other loved ones who have gone on before.

Dad was sick for a long time. Some of his thorns in the flesh he carried for all of his life on Earth. He is now free of them. I don't know why Dad had to suffer through those nor the illness that ultimately claimed his mortal life. (How can any of us know for sure why these things happen while "we see through a glass, darkly"?)

Neverthless, like Nephi, though "I do not know the meaning of all things," "I know that he (God) loveth his children." I know that (1) our Heavenly Father loved Dad and (2) Dad loved his children and his grandchildren.

I testify of the importance of the gift of the Holy Ghost. His presence has been so important to me over the past week. When we got the call that Dad had been taken to the hospital, I felt urgency to get there, and yet I also felt peace. I feel at peace today. The Spirit, also known as the Comforter, has comforted when I have been sad, and He has given me also joy in the knowledge of these things, of which I testify in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

"Giving Back to the Community"

I'm not sure if I've already mentioned this here on Paco Nation, but I'm a self-employed writer who also has many leather-bound books and whose apartment smells of rich mahogany.

Seriously, though, I recently wrote this piece for my friends at MannMade Innovations, which was published on their company blog and shared on social media:

So, I'm sharing it with you here. The folks at MannMade are not only wonderful people, but they're also doing some great things in their company, both during and after business hours.

Dearth of a Salesman

The job that seemed too good to be true, believe it or not, actually turned out to be too good to be true. Go figure.

So, throughout the month, I've been back in the old, familiar, grueling, messy task of applying for, following up on, and interviewing for several job opportunities. As I write this, nothing has yet panned out, though I'm waiting to hear back from a few different places.

I loathe this whole process. I abhor it mainly because I feel like I am forced to sell myself to the employer in my interview, and I detest sales.

When I'm in an interview with a potential new boss, I feel like there is a secret word, much like the secret word on "Pee-wee's Playhouse," that they're wanting to hear, and I have to make my best guess as to what that word may be. ("Passport"?) It's like I'm playing a game of "The $25,000 Pyramid," and I'm losing. No matter how impressive your résumé might be, you just don't qualify if you don't say that magic word.

Also, I am almost to the point at which I feel like I have to make up tall tales about myself and my previous work experience in order to land the sale. Making a sale is basically my least-favorite assignment at any job. Some of you are great at it, and pats on the back to you. But there are times when I do not feel like I could sell a life preserver to a drowning man.

It's all very frustrating. Yet it's a necessary evil.

The worst part about it is that no matter what you do, achieving success is completely out of your hands, in spite of your best efforts.

It almost reminds me of, dare I say it . . . dating.

A Good and Faithful Servant

Like many of you, I've been saddened today by the news of the passing of Elder L. Tom Perry of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles from thyroid cancer. I will remember not only his distinctive, folksy, grandfatherly Cache Valley voice and delivery but also his fearless, powerful conference talks and testimony, fearlessly proclaiming the truths of the restored gospel of Jesus Christ and of the importance of the family in God's eternal plan.

During my lifetime, I had the opportunity to run into this man twice.

The first time I do not remember personally, for I was a toddler when it occurred. As my mom tells the story, my parents, older brother, next-youngest brother (who was a baby), and I attended our stake conference in Cheyenne, Wyoming, when we lived for a very brief time in western Nebraska. Elder Perry presided at this conference, and as he was leaving the building, he passed by my family. Looking at the young couple and their three young boys, he smiled and said (if I'm paraphrasing Mom correctly): "This little family right here is what the Church is all about."

The other encounter took place many years later when I was an employee at the Church Office Building. One day, I was eating lunch at the Chinese food place in the ZCMI (a department store that used to exist before City Creek) food court, something I was wont to do during the time I was employed at the COB. In between mouthfuls of my meal, I spotted Elder Perry walking by, and my eyes made contact with his. He winked and pointed his index finger at me as if he were firing a gun.

It was a brief but a memorable gesture. Why? Because the First Presidency and the Twelve are very, very busy people. It took only a split-second out of what I'm sure was his very busy schedule, but it made me feel like I was important, too. It is a memory that has stayed with me to this day.

I'm sure many of us have stories to tell about this good man, whether they be of inspirational messages that have taught important principles or of personal encounters like mine.

I'm grateful for this man's example and for his exemplary life. "Well done, thou good and faithful servant" (Matthew 25:23).

Weekends, Holidays, and All Throughout May

"I before E, EXCEPT after C,
And when sounding like A, as in neighbor and weigh,
And on weekends and holidays and all throughout May,
And you'll always be wrong, NO MATTER WHAT YOU SAY!"
 -Brian Regan

With some people, you just can't win. No matter what you do, no matter what you say, no matter how you act, and/or no matter how kindly you try to treat them, in spite of their rudeness and/or indifference, they will always be infallible, and you will always be a babbling idiot.

I have a co-worker like this right now. I've tried to get along with this person to the best of my ability. He never says simple, polite things such as "please" or "thank you." Whenever any kind of discrepancy, miscommunication, or other type of problem arises, he always sighs, frowns, shakes his head, and says something such as, "You people in the office!"

When this happens, I pick up my three-hole punch and smash in his teeth.

Actually, that's what I would do if left to my own devices and I weren't, in reality, the loveable, gentle, forgiving, humble soul you all know.

Have you ever dated a person who falls into the category of someone who always has to be right, and this at the expense of you always being wrong? I have, and it doesn't do much for your self-esteem to have this constantly going on.

Earlier today, I read something about Pres. Franklin D. Roosevelt and the fact that, apparently, from the outset of their marriage, his wife apparently criticized and belittled him for decades on end. My heart went out to the guy when I read that. Not a happy place to be, in spite of all of the philandering he took part in (which the book also discusses).

It's tough to turn the other cheek in these moments and while dealing with toxic people like these. But, often, it's really the only option. If you let it, something like this can spoil your entire day.

I'm trying not to let that happen, one encounter at a time. Throughout May and during the rest of the year, as well.

Testifying with Lovin'

My mind can be much more like a sieve than a steel trap sometimes. Countless hours of "Simpsons" quotes, video games, "Weird Al" songs, and more all crammed in my noggin are probably to thank for it.

Nevertheless, I rarely, if ever, forget a face. I do not always remember names (though most of the time I do), but I almost always recognize faces, even when I haven't seen them for many years.

Last Sunday, it was Fast Sunday on the Island of Misfit Toys. That, of course, meant fast and testimony meeting. Rather unexpectedly, a familiar face stepped up to the podium to bear her testimony. It was one of the people I least expected to see there.

It had been more than 20 years since I last saw this person. Yes, folks, I am old enough to remember people from over two decades in my past. My knees frequently remind me of that fact. I'm not really the baby-faced young lad you might surmise to be 23 or 24.

At age 16, I started my first job (one that was not delivering newspapers or selling concessions at Utah Jazz games, anyway) working at (where else?) McDonald's in Centerville. That is how and when I first met this person. We did not get along all that well, from what I recall. I heard more than a few curse words escape from this person's mouth, and she also smoked.

Back to last week's testimony meeting: This same person stepped up to the pulpit, professing her belief in Christ and in the Atonement and stating that she knew she is a daughter of God. In the years since I had last seen her, her entire countenance had completely changed. With her testimony, she strengthened mine.

Like I said, it was the last person I expected to see. It's strange how people you never expect to see again, people who made cameos once upon a time, can suddenly reappear in your life. It's truly amazing what time can do and to witness the enormous capacity of people to change their lives. The gospel is a marvelous thing, isn't it?