The Nutcracker

The snow had arrived, and just in time for Christmas! However, here in MO it never just snows without some other element present. Instead of rain or sleet or ice, the usual choices it seems, this time the element was wind. Because of the blizzard-like conditions that were sweeping across the state -- and, by extension, the entire Midwest -- we were not quite sure whether we should make the trip to Kansas City or not. It did not help matters either to have two of the doors on our mini-van frozen shut.

To determine whether the unforeseen would be detrimental to us if we were to make the trip, we offered a little prayer. Afterwords, Cayanna stated that she felt "good about going". Deep down, both April and I were hoping the opposite. The day after Christmas and we were tired and wanting to just stay put, not to mention we were not really thrilled about braving the cold for the 3 1/2 hr drive! Yet, other than our own line of reasoning and discomfort, how could we argue with her? After all, this year was going to be different, more meaningful, more memorable! With kids, the present has a way of ALWAYS being the best (e.g., the best birthday, the best Christmas, etc). So naturally, this Nutcracker was going to be the BEST ever, better than the previous three we had attended together!

And so it was --

The curtains opened and Act II began. The Sugar Plum Fairy greeted us like royalty; the Spanish dancers offered us some chocolate; and then the Arabian dancers (my favorite) seduced us into having some eye-coffee. Referring to the next set of dancers that appeared on stage, Cayanna leaned over and asked, "Daddy, are these the Chinese?"

"Yes," I replied.

Unable to hold back her critique of their curt and tortuous moves any longer, she leaned over to me again and observed, "They make really good food, but they are not very good dancers!"

Needless to say, it was an AWESOME and memorable afternoon! It was also a nice reminder that memories are not always presented to us on a silver platter, but often require risk, inconvenience, and getting out of one's comfort zone and into the cold!

Cayanna (7 1/2 y/o) standing in front of the Music Hall in downtown Kansas City

Our BEST date so far!

Share the Harvest

The dear hunt has arrived; it is that mythical time of year when boys become men, and men become boys -- a right of passage, of sorts.

Sunday afternoon we took a drive to a small town just 45 min north of Kirksville (Memphis, MO), near the Iowa-MO border. With finals slated all week, I was needing a little distraction, a little reprieve from studying . . . something to break me free from the self-absorbed bubble that med school requires! So we immersed ourselves in to the local culture -- National Geographic-style!

It is not uncommon to see a trailer filled with deer carcasses in the middle of a parking lot, just off main street. It is the central hub, the main artery, the locus of all comings-and-goings in town. It is a cultural amphitheater for non-natives like me. Share the Harvest is a program ran by one of the local churches (this one, I believe, is ran by the Baptists) which is designed to feed the hungry with the deer that is "leftover" from the hunt. Each hunter that gives his/her prize to the program is asked to donate $20 to help offset butchering costs.

A pretty impressive program . . .

and a pretty impressive sight!

While visiting with some of the locals, a hunter pulled up to the gas station next to us. With tailgate down, three trophy-sized racks were showcased in the back of the truck like Christmas window adornments at Macy's! Passersby stopped and admired these soon-to-be wall ornaments, stroking the hunters' manhood with every question posed. Of course, I was right there in the middle, indulging the moment as they boasted of their heroics!

Yes, it is that mythical time of year -- a time, no doubt, when living vicariously through another is just the escape that I needed.

(left to right) 17, 11 and 8 point whitetail buck

No Talking Allowed

This morning I decided to break from my normal routine and study at home. Not long after, Caleb entered asking if he could do his math in the office with me. Absolutely - Then entered Cayanna, who was wondering the same thing. Unlike Caleb who has studied with me before, this would be Cayanna's first. Wanting to preempt any distractions that may arise, a ground rule was set.

"Alright, there will be NO talking while in the office! Total quiet, silence -- that is all!" I instructed.

They both agreed, and went quickly about their work.

Several minutes later, April entered the office to check her email, which led to a discussion about the housing market and our options once our lease expires.

Obviously distracted and somewhat annoyed, Cayanna interrupted, saying, "No talking in the room; it is making me frustrated!"

Needless to say, we took our discussion to the other room so as to not further disrupt and "frustrate" the learning environment. It is times like this when I am encouraged that the huge investment of time, energy and resources that April makes daily is taking root! Nicely done, Sweetheart!

An Unpredictable Observation

Enoch (3 1/2 y/o)

The other day, while sitting around the dinner table, Enoch made a rather interesting diagnosis. Unlike the two older kids who were enjoying homemade chili relleno (potentially too spicy for the younger ones), he (along with Isaac) were the recipients of a cheese quesadilla. After a bite or two, Enoch began to cough. In between coughing bouts, he observed matter-of-factly that "I have whooping cough".

It seems that some childhood experiences will never be forgotten, as they are played out again and again -- at times, too, when we least expect it. You got to love the unpredictability of children! For me, this is, perhaps, one of the most endearing qualities they possess -- yet, at the same time, it can be one of the most maddening!

Autumn has Arrived!

Autumn has arrived! Not only is there a crispness in the air, but the color of summer is beginning to turn. Here in Missouri, we look to the soy and corn fields to confirm the inevitable -- that the frigid winter is but a few months away! Ice looming in the distance; and in anticipation, we try to keep warm by holding tight to the stale humidity of summer!

The transition from summer to winter is slow . . . but, given the conditions that we are leaving and will be heading into, it is not slow enough! This sad reality makes this past weekend all the more memorable! Here are a few of the scenes that we enjoyed on our Sunday drive out in the country!

A maze of corn . . . so tempting!

In the east, a full moon rising . . .

while in the west, the sun sets behind a silo!

Breech Class?

Elias (7 1/2 mos) and Isaac ( 5 y/o) - Aug 31, 2009

Monday evening we asked Isaac where he was going "tomorrow morning" (Tuesday). Responding with a hint of excitement, he answered, "Breech class!". Then we asked Cayanna where she thought Isaac was going. She responded matter-of-factly, "Breech class!". Somewhat befuddled yet amused, we then asked Caleb the same question. There was a slight variation in his response, "Speech class!".

It was all starting to make sense now. Several weeks ago Isaac approached me and asked, seemingly from nowhere, "Daddy, I wish all the kids were breech." Taken back yet curious, I countered, "Why do you wish all the kids were born breech?" His response was very illuminating in regards to just how quickly (and inadvertently) kids begin to define and make sense of their life-experience. "So everyone can understand me!"

"Isaac," I pressed, "do you think people don't understand your talking because you were born breech?"

"Yes!" He responded.

So come this January Isaac will officially begin "breech" class, and if you ask him he will say that he is very excited -- both because he will get to "play" and be understood!

White Coat Ceremony

It seems hard to believe, but medical school has FINALLY arrived! The journey getting here has been long and arduous (13 years to be exact), and looming ahead is the promise that this is not the end but merely the beginning! As is customary, last Saturday marked a very significant milestone in that we received our "white coat", which symbolizes our induction into the profession as physicians-to-be. In other words, our life as a physician begins NOW and not upon graduation. I find this quite encouraging! Given the fact that I will graduate from medical school one month after turning the BIG 40, it is comforting to know that my life for these next four years is not "wasting away" while awaiting for my new career to begin. It is an exciting time, indeed -- as the means are an essential and integral part of the end!

Faculty standing as the Class of 2013 enters the auditorium

Introducing myself prior to donning a new "white coat"


The source of my support!

Totally Awesome: An 80s Party Worth Remembering!

Are you, like, way bored and, like, have nothing to do this weekend? If so, then you may want to, like, consider hangin' out this weekend and having this, like, cool 80s party and stuff! Earlier this year we did just that: not like once, but twice! It was so rad, the party and all, we had to hang again!

I like called Erin, my bestest friend from school you know, and said, "Hey, you wanna have like have an 80s party when Bill gets in town?" She said, "Uh, like . . . yeah!" "We can play some real cool tunes, too . . . like Tiffany, Heart, Duran Duran, and Belinda Carlisle!" Dude, she was all over it - New Kids on the Block and all! And the party like totally ROCKED! We jammed all night, dancin', singin', eatin' and doin' the worm! It was like totally the raddest ever!

Bill Burns and Erin Klatt just hangin' out!

Caleb & Cayanna feelin' the groove!


Sharing a moment with, like, my bestest friend ever, Bill -


Just chillin' with my girl -

And the Winner Is . . .

About a week before the submission deadline (which was 4/30), I took the kids up to Thousand Hills State Park for a photoshoot. The German manufacturer, Schleich, was sponsoring a photocontest. The theme was farm life, and the rules required the use of their figurines. Because we are HUGE fans of Schleich products, we thought we would give it a shot. If nothing else, we would have a lot of fun creating various farm scenes together as a family -- which was an absolute blast, by the way!

While in Seattle, WA earlier this week, I received a phone call from a very excited kid! He read me the following e-mail:

"On behalf of Schleich North America let me begin by thanking you for participating and making the first Schleich Hobby Farm Home Contest an enormous success.

I'm very happy to announce that your photo has been selected as one of our ten winners.

We are very excited to send out your prize, a new Schleich Red Barn. In order to do so as quickly as possible, we need the attached form completed and returned within ten days.

Congratulations once again for your winning submission."

Here is the winning picture, as well as a few other favorites from our photoshoot. Keep in mind that Caleb was the one who composed and shot the winning picture. Yes, he is becoming quite the fledgling National Geographic photographer (no complaints here)!

Winning picture!


Submitted one day late unknowingly (i.e., got hung up in the "outbox").


A slight deviation from the Farm theme.

Tornado Hits Kirksville

(image provided by Kirksville Daily Express)

Since Enoch is taking a "sick day" from Church this morning, I thought it would be appropriate to take a few moments and reflect on the tornado that roared through the north end of town this past Wednesday. To be honest, though, it is difficult to know what exactly to say. After all, normalcy has been restored: rats have been run on the treadmill; experiments have been carried out and performed; the lawn has been mowed; groceries have been purchased; and Enoch continues to struggle in transitioning from diapers to the toilet.

The feeling that prevailed Wednesday evening while walking through the ravaged neighborhood and seeing rooftops dismantled and laying in the neighboring fields was an overwhelming sense of insignificance! For me, it brought back feelings of 9/11. Though the destruction is different in etiology, the sense that my security had not only been jeopardized but attacked was very similar. Whether orchestrated by man or Mother Nature, to consider that at any one moment the world in which we have carefully constructed for ourselves and family could be gone -- in an instant -- is a reality that I do not wish to entertain in excessive amounts! Small doses, if I must.

Yes, life is both precarious and fragile! I vividly recall the events of 9/11. Particularly, I recall walking from the clinic to the hospital and wondering what (and who) was next. Were there any other sites in NYC that were under target? If the terrorists involved in the hijack of the planes were of Palestinian origin, was this attack on America retaliation for our support of Israel? If so, then how safe was I really working at a Jewish hospital in NYC that bears the name of Palestine's enemy (i.e., Beth Israel Medical Center)? As I was entertaining these questions in my mind, a distinct feeling came over me. It was a feeling that proffered peace and security, the very mainstays that were now under attack! The feeling was very clear and left no room for misinterpretation: that whatever happened (or was going to happen) I would make it out alive! What an incredible feeling that was to have received such an assurance as this! To consider that my life, insignificant as it is, was not only going to be protected but that it was worth protecting! This was a very humbling realization, indeed!

You will have to forgive me for reverting back to 9/11, but the emotional aftermath of the tornado is very similar. In an instant, in a matter of moments, everything we have known and worked so hard to build can be lost, destroyed, damaged . . . completely annihilated! However, the inner peace that comes from knowing that you are known by something greater than yourself is not for the taking. Rather, it is a gift from heaven above! If nothing else, the events of last week -- like the attacks of 9/11 -- have reminded me of this reality: that though my life is insignificant, it is still of interest to the God in heaven!

Nursing Home: Got Milk?

The following is an illustration of just how witty (or literal) children can be:

This afternoon we were having a little family "pow-wow" to discuss our options (all two of them) as to where to eat lunch (Mexican or Chinese). Trying to ease the tension that was building up inside me with our lack of choices -- good choices, that is -- I suggested that we go to a nursing home and eat at the cafeteria there.

Caleb objected, saying: "No, they will just have milk!"

I do not think I will ever be able to visit a nursing home again without seeing in my mind's eye the image that Caleb's objection invokes. There they are, sitting in the lobby, the cafeteria, the hallway, in the privates of their own room . . . playing dominoes or cards, crocheting, knitting, falling in love with Bob Barker while watching reruns of the Price is Right. Typical scene, I know, except for the fact that, along with the oxygen tank that sits beside them, they are all hooked up to a breast pump. . .

This scenario is not out of the realm of possibilities -- so I have been told. There is a herb (fenugreek seed) that when ingested can cause one to lactate -- grown men, even! In fact, tribal tradition in some remote areas of South America requires a father to assume the responsibility of breastfeeding in the event that something happens to the mother. And when the father is unavailable, then the next in line assumes the role -- that is, grandpa.

Lactating men? It does seem to expand on what it means to provide for one's family -- a little too literal, perhaps. Regardless, the movement does seem to be gaining ground a bit.

Just some food for thought --

(A preemptive disclosure: I have not taken, nor do I have any intention of taking, fenugreek seed supplements. Nor am I an employee of a manufacturer of the herb.)

Happy Mother's Day, Sweetheart!

Alright, so it is Mother's Day today, and it just so happens that I have a few moments to reflect on what an incredible wife and mother April is (and has been)! Perhaps sharing the date that we had this past autumn may illustrate my point a little better.

It was a weekday evening when we procured a baby sitter and dined out at the new (and only) Italian restaurant in town. The food was decent; it was neither spectacular nor awful . . . but acceptable (which given our options here in Kirksville does not really say much). The waitress asked April, who was pregnant with Elias and in her second trimester, if we would like a table -- as she was unsure if a booth would comfortably accommodate her. We took the table, but not without acknowledging the hole the waitress had just dug for herself.

Earlier that day at school I had catheterized a rat; this time around, though, catheterization was anything but routine. Though I had done it several times previously and was quite comfortable with the procedure, I was not able to foresee the problem that I would encounter -- as I was unaware of the secondary vessel that branched off the carotid artery. It can be quite difficult to complete the procedure when working in a pool of blood. The bleeding from this secondary artery was so severe that I thought he was going to pass on and into the tunnel of light -- but he did not, at least not at that moment! As April and I were enjoying this time together away from the kids, my mind kept drifting to the lab and to the rat that was -- hopefully! -- recovering from both surgery and the loss of blood. With 40 min left before the baby sitter was "off the clock", I asked April if we could swing by school and check on the rat. She graciously obliged!

Feeling just as much invested in my research project as I do, she accompanied me to the recovery room. When I opened the door and looked over towards the fiberglass cage, I could scarcely believe what I saw: Mr Rat was sitting atop the cage! Not only was he managing to recover well, but he managed to push open the metal wire covering that latches on to the side of the cage. It was unbelievable! Had I not checked on him, it is difficult to know where in the building he would have ended up and if, at all, we would have found his whereabouts. He literally could have wreaked some serious havoc, not to mention the thousands of dollars in experimental mice that potentially could have been destroyed as a result! (Note: rats and mice do not co-habitate well; rats are very territorial and will typically kill mice when given the chance.)

That night I drove home noting just how fortunate I really am -- as there are not very many women who would have obliged me the way in which April did! And without any complaints, too! Thank you, Sweetheart, for making my life much more meaningful and exciting than it would be otherwise! I look forward to the many more adventures that await us --

The following are just a few pictures that capture, I feel, the true spirit of motherhood! Happy Mother's Day!

Isaac's birth (June 24, 2004)


Traveling by bus from Queens, NY to the Bronx Zoo (October, 2005)


Enjoying a nature walk in Forest Park, Queens, NY (October, 2006)


Moving from NY to MO: farewell gathering in Tobyhanna, PA (June, 2007)


Awaiting the subway (August, 2004)


Got milk? (July, 2004)

Photocontest: Who Am I?

Background: Saturday afternoon the kids and I went for a short run/ride (2 were in the stroller, and 2 were on their bikes). We drove just outside the City limits for a scenic ~3 mile hilly adventure out in the country. As we approached this make-shift bridge, we noticed a rather large chicken leg (as the kids called it) sitting in the middle of the stream lodged underneath a fence.

Contest: The kids and I thought it would be fun to make a little contest out of our find. Can you identify the object in the picture? There is a prize for the first person who correctly identifies it. You have one week to give it a try; good luck!

Love is in the Air

When I arrived home from school this evening, April and the kids were out in the backyard doing some gardening in the mud. Since it has been raining off and on for the past two days the conditions are almost swamp-like, attracting many amphibious life forms. As they meddled through the weeds and plants, they happened upon a most intimate find.


Unaware of what was taking place, Cayanna told Caleb to pick up the frogs. "No," he responded, adding "they are mating." Justifying his position even more, he argued, "I don't want to disturb their romance!" Cayanna quipped back, "Then where is the music?"

Adding to the love that was already in the air, she then began to hum a little tune: "O Christmas Tree! O Christmas Tree! . . . "

Still Chasing Boston

The rain just could not make up its mind. Unlike the humidity, which was constant and relatively high throughout the race, the rain was quite fickle and sporadic. At the starting line it greeted me with a light drizzle, then turned into a cool, soft mist several miles into the race, and reverted back to a drizzle before meeting me at the finish line with a downpour! Conditions such as these definitely make for a memorable run - especially when the shower sends a stinging reminder from every nook, cranny, and crevice that chafing (I mean, running) builds . . . character. The chafed nipples, though, do not build character so much as stir within an appreciation for those mothers who breastfeed a teething child!

Yes, I love running! The feeling of crossing the finish line after a long, hard-fought race is exquisite! The pain, the cramping, the exhaustion is all eclipsed by a deep sense of achievement, having just overcome the odds and all of the negative self-talk that slowly seeped into my awareness with each passing mile! My counter and source of motivation -- in fact, the very thought that pulled me through to the end -- was the image of April giving her ALL in laboring to bring our last child, Elias, into the world almost three months ago! The effect it had on me was real: the more I saw myself cheering her on and rallying around her for another successful delivery at home, the faster my pace became! In fact, it was this very image of seeing her squatting, pushing, being propped up with arms wrapped under hers -- me on one side and a good friend, Linda Martin, on the other . . . it was this image that my mind grabbed hold of, keeping me tethered to and focused on the finish line when everything in me screamed "I can't". In short, it was the force that propelled me through the impermeable "wall" at mile 24 and across the finish line in a record 3:41:32.

Though my time set a PR, it did not qualify me for Boston. In fact, I need to shave off 26 min before making the trip to the oldest and most prestigious marathon in the world. (The qualifying time for men 35-39 y/o is 3:15:59.) What that translates into is this: I need to run faster -- 1 min per mile faster, to be exact. It is doable, I think. I am hopeful in the fact that I have already brought down my time considerably. Note the following:

7 May 2006, Potomac River Run Marathon - 4:24:27
29 Oct 2006, Marine Corps Marathon - 4:08:31
21 April 2007, Salt Lake City Marathon - 4:00:14
19 April 2009, Go! St Louis Marathon - 3:41:32

It has not even been ten days since the race and the feeling of euphoria has outlived the muscle soreness. The excitement and challenge of chasing Boston has been rekindled; and after taking several days off to recover, I have now resumed my training. Regardless of which marathon I run next, one thing that I look forward to as I run (and train for) another 26.2 miles is the rediscovery of the source of my motivation -- my wife!

Hot Girls; Cold Boy

The following conversation is one more reason why eating dinner together is time well spent. If nothing else, it makes for great entertainment. Enjoy!

Cayanna: "Mom, who is your favorite Pokemon character?"

April: "I don't know; I don't know them very well."

Cayanna: "You know, [forgot his name] likes hot girls!]

Me: "He does? Why do you say that?"

Cayanna: "Because he has heart eyes."

April: "What are heart eyes?"

Cayanna: "You know, when they look at someone and hearts go in their eyes."

Me: "So what is a hot girl?"

Cayanna: "I don't know."

Caleb: "It is a beautiful girl."

Me: "You know, Caleb, one day you are going to marry a hot girl!"

Caleb: "Oooh, no way! Babe is going to marry a hot boy."

Cayanna: "No, I won't; I will marry a cold one!"

Taking the Oath of Office

"Off we go into the wild blue yonder,
Climbing high into the sun;
Here they come zooming to meet our thunder,
At 'em boys, Give 'er the gun! (Give 'er the gun now!)
Down we dive, spouting our flame from under,
Off with one helluva roar!
We live in fame or go down in flame. Hey!
Nothing'll stop the U.S. Air Force!"

The childhood memories of dressing up in Grandpa Merl's Marine garb are vivid. In the basement of his house was a lone room; and in that lone room was a closet; and behind that closet door lay hours of dress-up fun. So many outfits to wear, and so many battles to win! Given my size, I was not going to beat the enemy (my brother and, often times, cousins) on sheer strength but on stratagem. Even back then, my romanticization of the heroics of war was not entirely found in the bloodbath that often occupies it, but mostly in the fight for the cause that is bigger than life itself, namely, that of freedom!

Now fast forward some 10 or so years to Fort Hamilton, Brooklyn, NY (1995): Just after moving to New York, I found myself walking in to the recruiting office on Amsterdam Avenue & 65th Street to complete what I had already started in Salt Lake. After a fine display of my acrobatic abilities (i.e., jumping through a mess load of red tape), I was finally given clearance to enlist in the active reserve Army. After a dreadfully long day at MEPS in Fort Hamilton, I clearly recall the awful feeling that came over me when reviewing my contract. It was palpable, unbearable, making my stomach twist and turn and cramp up inside. It was a feeling devoid of all excitement and adventure; yet, it was filled with a caveat and regret. When I asked the officer that sat across from me on the other side of the desk if I could have some time -- just a day or two -- to mull it over before signing, he assured me that if I did not sign now I would not sign at all. He was right . . . and yet he was wrong!


Fulfilling my latent and childhood desire to serve my country, yesterday I swore to "support and defend the constitution of the United States" as an officer in the United States Air Force. Yes, I have joined the military and it is official! There is no looking back now; no regrets, no caveats to negotiate and justify away, and no visceral knots to untie. Such a contrast from the experience I had previously! The starkness of the contrast serves as a reminder that making the right decision, especially in terms of one's own life-direction, is as much dependent upon timing as it is principle.

Size is Not Always Better

Question: what do weeks of failed experiments of running rats on the treadmill yield?

Answer: the following observation -- rats have disproportionally large testicles!

After observing the enormity of their testicles for the past year, the budding researcher (and the avid, concerned runner) in me asked the following question: what percent of total body mass do rat testicles comprise? So, during the past several weeks, in addition to carrying out my original experimental design, I have learned the following: that rat testicles constitute, on average, 2.1% of their total body mass (n=7). Shocking, I know!

So how does that translate for humans? Assuming that the same ratio existed for a 200 lb man, for example, then that man -- unfortunate as it is -- would be schlepping around 4.2 lbs of testicles! To help you appreciate the sheer weight of 4.2 lbs, consider having to schlep between your legs (for life, that is) one of the following:

13 baseballs
10 softballs
22 CDs in standard jewel cases
9 VHS tapes in cardboard cases
a 5 lb bag of sugar minus several cups
a 2 liter bottle of your favorite soda

Research does not always lead to application, but does at times stir a greater sense of appreciation -- for all things both great and small! Likewise, as a runner who does not like the chronic chafing that often accompanies a long run, this serendipitous rodent observation helps me appreciate the fact that size is not always better!

Heroes: A Child's Perspective

Upon arriving home yesterday evening, April showed me the following pictures that both Caleb (8 y/o) and Cayanna (6 1/2 y/o) had drawn earlier that day during school. Their assignment was to draw a picture of a hero, without any prior discussion as to what a hero is and who it is that might be one.

Hero #1 (Cayanna): a self-portrait of Cayanna winning the race.

Hero #2 (Caleb): Science - "Is this dad dissecting the rat?" "No, it is just a man."


Hero #3 (Cayanna): the horse's tail has fallen off; this person is stapling it back on.


Hero #4 (Caleb): a fireman putting out the fire.


Hero #5 (Cayanna): this person (upper left corner) is helping save the baby who is being sacrificed by these people.

FINALLY - the Boy has a Name!

After 3 weeks of deliberation, the boy has finally been given a name: Elias (Eli) Storm. Elias is of Hebrew origin (as might be suspected), and "has been placed on many persons as a title pertaining to both preparatory and restorative functions". About a week or so before his birth, April had this overwhelming sense that this child would bring "balance" to our family; or, to say it another way, that he would "restore" balance to the Force. (With 4 boys, any reference made to Star Wars is almost a guaranteed win!)

The middle name Storm has a twofold meaning: one, labor was just that - a stormy and unpredictable ride (an intense 20 plus hours that hinged on the possibility of transferring to the hospital); and two, a short yet powerful display of Nature's Force - a thunder and lightening storm - that occurred just shortly after his birth!

We appreciate all of the suggestions that people made. Here are a few of the names that were in the running up until the very end: Elijah Storm, Ultimo (as in final or last), LastKid Day, and Keep 'em Coming!



Since joining the fold, he has become quite the distraction - for everyone. And he definitely does not go without attention or affection, especially from his lone sister. Needless to say, he is a big reason why our to-do list has only grown these past several weeks to insurmountable lengths. But now that we have settled upon a name, the list does not seem quite as exhaustive. In fact, if we allow momentum to work in our favor, then we will soon be able to cross off one other item from our list: filling out his birth certificate.

An Opportunity of a Lifetime

While trying to stomach the awkward silence that often accompanies church service on the first Sunday of the month (which is typically referred to by Mormons as "fast and testimony" Sunday), Caleb leaned over to me and said, "I think I want to get up and say something to the people."

"Do you know what you want to talk about?" I asked.

"Yes, I want to talk about Joseph Smith."

"That sounds good," I replied, nodding my head in agreement. Then, I added, "and may be you could tell everyone about the Sacred Grove and how you felt while visiting it."

"May be you should!" he challenged.

"No, I can't!"

"Why not?"

"Because I am teaching in Elder's Quorum today."

As soon as I fumbled through my reasoning, two words came to mind: lame excuse! As I sat there in the pew listening to him share with a 150 plus congregants his feelings about Joseph Smith (which, by the way, did not include the experience he had while visiting the Sacred Grove), my mind drifted to the discussion I had with Elder & Sister Virgin just two days prior while visiting with them in Nauvoo. They shared with me how the Church is planning to construct a Visitor's Center adjacent to the Temple, on the north side of the front entrance, opposite side of the road. The rationale: curious passers-by will typically stop at the Temple to admire its beauty and architecture and to ask questions. Their visit typically ends with an invitation to visit the main (and only) Visitor's Center that is just a 1/4 mile down the hill, if that. Very few actually make it there. Hence the need for a second Visitor's Center.

The significance of that story lies in the willingness of the Church to invest a substantial amount of time, resources, and energy into the construction of a second Visitor's Center. To what end? My thought is that the Church recognizes there is a very short window of opportunity to plant seeds among those who have been struck by the Temple in some way, enough to where they have delayed their travels to inquire about this anomalous and curious structure! All this, I believe, is an attempt to "seize the opportunity of a lifetime" while the "lifetime of an opportunity" is at hand!

Caleb returned to the bench, smiling, yet sober - for he had just challenged everyone to share with others the story of Joseph Smith and how he had translated the Book of Mormon. Next to him sat his father, who was being consumed by thoughts of . . . missed opportunities!

Several minutes later, I stood up, made my way to the aisle, and walked towards the stand. After sharing with the 150 plus congregants my feelings about Joseph Smith and the events that occurred within the Sacred Grove, I rejoined my family on the bench. Smiling and proud, Caleb leaned over and said, "Thanks Dad! That was a nice story!"

Nauvoo: the Mecca of Mormonism

This past Friday after meeting with our midwife we took a little road trip to Nauvoo, IL. While there, April and I had the chance to attend the Temple. Perhaps just as insightful as the Temple itself was my visit with the senior missionary couple (Elder & Sister Virgin) while waiting for April to rejoin the kids and me at the accommodation center. We spoke of the Nauvoo IL Temple as being a destination temple, one where people travel from all over the world just to attend, to claim and re-claim as their own one of the great narratives in American history, to renew their faith, to walk the streets of the City of Joseph. It is a pilgrimage to the Mecca of Mormonism! People come from all over with the expectation of having an experience - in particular, having an experience with the Divine!

It seems like there are very few that leave this sacred site disappointed; and I am not quite sure if it is a result of being in the midst of the site itself (i.e., the preeminence of Nauvoo and its Temple in Mormon history and culture) or of the mindset people have when visiting. Regardless, for me the lesson here seems to be one of preparedness, training oneself to expect (and experience) the best, and passionately pursuing the realization of those expectations! It is, after all, one's mindset or attitude that will ultimately determine the outcome of their experience!

The timing of this lesson is impeccable. (And, yes, it seems like I, too, have had "an experience" while visiting Nauvoo.) We are expecting number five to join our family in a matter of days (40 wks on February 7), and the baby as of now is presenting breech. If the four previous births we have had is a preview of what is to come, then it is reasonable to expect an experience with the Divine is forthcoming. My only concern: that ingratitude and self-absorption does not breach this newly acquired mindset!