Closing of a Chapter

This week the Stake Presidency extended a release to our Bishopric.

For five years I have sat at the right hand of a faithful Bishop, attempting to be of assistance to the man with the awesome mantle. I count it a privelege to have served with Bishop Glazier and to have rubbed shoulders with some great men as we served. I marveled at Bishop's dedication, his perseverance, and willingness to sacrifice his time and talents.

Although there is a sense of relief that comes with the release, there are also many mixed emotions that accompany this change. I will miss the constant spiritual nourishment and bouying of my spirit that comes with service at that level. I will miss the interactions with the membership in that capacity. I am sure that there are other voids that come with this change that may not be immediately apparent as well. I look forward to sitting in church with my family once again. It seems like a long time since we have been able to do so.

My regards and best wishes go out to our new Bishopric. I sustain and support them in their new callings. I appreciate the daunting task that lay ahead for them. These are great men.

As with all seasons of our life, as one ends, another begins. I am anxious about how this one will play out. Whatever is in store, I hope it will be as fulfilling as the last.

Daughters

I wax nostalgic.

With every child born, there comes into my life a wonder, a love, a joy that knows no bounds. Sons, daughters, grandchildren, all bringing more into a heart that seemed full already.

With apologies to Darris, Doug, and now Ben, Xander and Kroten, I must share tender feelings for the special place in a father's heart for daughters. Not that I love you less, just different.

Last night I went to a Celebration of Life for a man, Daniel, who's untimely passing leaves two beautiful young women, his daughters Courtney and Lisa. As I watched them, I could not hold back thoughts of the three sweet spirits who have graced our home over the past many years, which seem like so few. I think of --

Little fingers wrapped around mine,

Soft, pink dresses,

Giggles, sometimes incessant,

Sleep-overs,

Slips and Falls,

Wearing Daddies Shoes,

Excruciating trips to ERs,

(girls shouldn't be allowed to get hurt)

Braces,

Whispers about boys,

Embarassed pride of approaching womanhood,

Camp (tents and tarps)

Dances,

Dates,

Proms,

Hopes,

Dreams,

Beaming faces,

Tears,

Drama,

More Tears,

Tender questions,

Testimony,

Blessings,

Aches over lost friends,
(Daddy can't stop the hurt,

he would, if he could)

Daddies Tears,

Choices,

Growth,

A butterfly emerging,

And then, in an instant, a young man comes into their life, and Daddy's little girl belongs to another. He says he loves her. He says he wants to be with her forever. "No! Go Away!" But instead, "Please take care of her. Please be there for her. Please accept her as she is."

I endure, praying that this young man is one of integrity, one of character, one who will hold this precious spirit in the highest regard. Hopes that this young man will cherish her, worship her, and honor her as one who carries a spark of divinity and special partnership with her Father in Heaven. I cannot choose for her. I can only hope, and continue to pray for her.

And then she is gone. Close as a phone call, or a too short visit. I long for the little finger wrapped around mine, a whispered secret, a shared moment of discovery, a tender hug and caress. You will always be my little girl. I love you!

July

I am told that I need to add posts to the blog in order to make this place interesting to others. So here is my first post.

As I reflect on my life, July stands as a prominent month, with many fond and tender memories from childhood and beyond.

reunions,

vacations,

floating the river,

nectarines warmed and sweetened by the sun,

fried chicken,

shrimp salad,

bare feet,

grass,

rhubarb,

gooseberries,

fireworks,

parades

(holding back tears as

the color guard passes by),

popsicles,

Orange Crush and Grape Nehi,

celebration,

swimming,

waterslides,

water fights,

Kingsburg band concerts

(playing percussion without any beat),

cherries,

lemonade,

green apples,

hot asphalt,

fishing,

hiking,

dew on the tent,

rafting,

whitewater,

friends,

family

Then there is the reminder of heritage and patriotism that floods in July. Gratitude for those who gave so much to gain and preserve my freedoms and my faith; patriots, soldiers, statesmen, pioneers.

I hope that I have not kept this all to myself, but that I have passed on the heritage to others. That they too can appreciate the simple, yet so precious joys of this life. What a shame if my children and grandchildren cannot relish in these things.

They Walked And Walked To Zion
Robert D. Talbot © 01/12/04

Persecutions for their belief finally drove them away,
left Nauvoo behind, walked to Zion, they could not stay.
Shared together tears of joy and shed tears of pain,
with great focus press forward, through driving rain.
Wheels of their wagons would stick in heavy mud,
each must part with belongings they cherished and loved.
Oh what faith the Saints had on the trail in those days,
they walked and walked to Zion Singing songs of praise.

Leaving family and loved ones, Winter Quarters behind,
moving forward on the trail, promised land eager to find.
Tucking children in, one would lay down for the night,
often awaken to a loved one who’s spirit, had given flight.
Broken hearts they all suffer, cannot break their strong will,
leaving loved ones alongside the trail, underneath a small hill.
Oh what faith the Saints had on the trail in those days,
they walked and walked to Zion Singing songs of praise.

Soles worn from their shoes exposing cold frozen feet,
trudging through the deep snow no ready source for heat.
Blizzards blow frozen wind, frost bitten feet in the snow,
saints of all ages share tears of joy and pain as they go.
No food for them to consume, no provisions to share,
each starving, life on the line, not a grain to declare.
Oh what faith the Saints had on the trail in those days,
they walked and walked to Zion Singing songs of praise.

Leather from their shoes tongue, a broth boiled to drink,
this saved them on the trail from deaths impending brink.
Over majestic mountains high, and through valleys low,
The Lord’s faithful saints had, but one place to go.
Though less in number triumphantly they had arrived,
the promised land of the Lord, grateful joy felt inside.
Oh what faith the Saints had on the trail in those days,
they walked and walked to Zion Singing songs of praise.

(To Bro. Talbot, your poetry moved me and I wished to share.
If I have violated your literary property, my apologies, and I will make amends if you will let me know.)

Well here we are

New to this blog business, but have to try to keep up with the kids.
We will see how this goes and how long we can keep up with it.
Terrible picture of us and our Christmas tree, but it will have to do for now.