Here in Small Town there are alot of Mormons. There seem to be missionaries everywhere! They are riding their bikes and walking and talking and well, we have a large Mormon population anyway but then there are the missionaries and we are saturated. Every 6 months or so, a new crop of missionaries will come in. Inevitably they will come to the house and strike up a conversation. They usually start with asking if they can do anything for us. For some reason, they always show up just around dinner time. I don’t know if my mom’s kitchen (which is huge) is a legend in the mormon world or if the scent of her homemade cakes wafts down the street to the ward only two blocks away but those Mormon’s know just when to come and knock. My mom can’t resist inviting a young person to eat. So in they come and then they come back and are invited in again and well… we aren’t Mormon so the success rate of their conversion attempts is clear. The usually leave a little bit fatter and we have yet another copy of the Book of Mormon.
Truth: I consider myself a churchy person. Why? Because all my friends are at my church. I love my church. I’m involved in my church and I regularly attend my church. However, I don’t feel the need to create baptized members of my church for the books.
I wrote this a couple of years ago and an update at the end. God is always looking out for us!!!
My mother asked me one day what my favorite Bible verse was. I thought about it, but couldn’t really decide. I asked her to pick one for me. What is it about mother’s and their ability to always know what to say and when to say it? The verse she chose for me was Philippians 4:19. She also created this cross stitch for me as a daily remind that God is in control of my life and He will supply all my needs.
A little less then a year ago Callie and I decided to pack up our house leave our friends and my job behind and test the unknown. I was going to head back to school and work on getting into Physical Therapy school. Callie would stay home and take care of our two girls. This unknown path has been filled with many potholes along the way, but God has blessed us with supportive families and the promise that He will take care of us. Our plan has taken a hit and I will have to wait another year to try and get in to my program, but God has a plan and He will supply us with all our needs. God’s plans have not led into Physical Therapy. We packed our little home in Missoula, MT and we moved to Alamosa, CO. I have been working part time Substitute Teaching and working at our little airport. But my biggest role right now is staying home (when not working) with our girls. God is still working in our lives all we have to do is hang on for the ride. His plans are so much better than ours.
Although I don’t actually remember these events occurring this is how they have been relayed to me in bits and pieces.
One summer when I was about 2, my parents asked my 9 year old brother to watch me. My brother was more interested in watching cartoons then me. I decided to look for my mom, who was working as the summer camp nurse. I exited the front and headed down the front steps. I started walking down our street – naked. Well, I had a diaper on. But being naked makes for a better story.
My journey continued down the the side of the state road until I was in front of our local elementary school. As I walked down the road looking for my mom, cars kept passing me. Finally, one gentlemen decided to stop and pick me up and figure out who I belonged to. He found the house and left me with my brother again.
The details are a little rough about whether the gentleman was a policeman or not. Somehow, social services was called. They came out to the house and discovered that there was no child abuse, after talking with my mother. There are many unanswered questions. Who was the stranger who picked me up? Was he a policeman? How did he find my house? How did I get so far down the road and not get hit by a car? Why did this person leave me with my brother AGAIN and him not even notice who he was, his face, his profession… nothing?
To this day I am convinced that gentlemen was my guardian angel and I am still alive because God was looking out for me. I live today to retell this tale and to constantly give my brother grief for neglecting me.