I’ve been focusing on preparing food, really good food, to serve my family. It’s gone almost this quickly, so I keep cooking nearly every day, every day, every day. It’s a big part of my life. Good job, me.
8 years ago today
Eight years ago today I walked into this house for the first time. This is how it looks this afternoon.
Over the course of eight years, we have painted almost every surface, ceilings, walls, doors, and trim. Only two weeks ago, Daniel and I finished painting the last two interior doors. Every plumbing fixture has been replaced, and we have added a water softener, radon fan, and humidifier. We’ve planted seven trees. We’ve lived, studied, practiced piano and violin, graduated from high school and college, moved away from home, gotten married, served a mission, hosted meetings and gatherings, and knelt most nights in prayer from this home base. It doesn’t look like a HGTV home and I love it.
Fish Creek according to Daniel
This post is brought to you today by Daniel. The 4-wheelers, planning, and execution of this trip were by Richard.
June
June is probably my favorite month in Utah. As I begin my walks, my favorite spot is just down the street where the air is fragrant from flowers I cannot see or name. I wish my life always smelled like this. Jasmine? The neighbors have really done a beautiful job this year with their yards. I walk for miles now through the streets, but haven’t ventured to the trails. My phone messages are adorned by photos of Richard and the boys hiking. “Wish you were here…”
This evening, I worked up the courage to knock on some doors to talk to friends in person. It took all day to make myself do this, as I am so out of practice being a human being. I decided to bake bread, a trusty excuse for a hand delivery, only I accidentally turned off the oven mid-baking for about 15 minutes. With the intensity of a contestant on the Great British Baking Show, I reheated the oven, covered the tops with foil, and continued to bake until they “plunked” when I hit them with my finger.
Some questions remain: How many people have I overlooked during my haze? I feel I owe people an apology for not being “around,” even for texting or phonecalls. And, how can I find another excuse to knock on more friends’ doors? Because those socially distanced, in-person conversations on doorsteps were so good for me.
In friendship…we think we have chosen our peers. In reality a few years’ difference in the dates of our births, a few more miles between certain houses, the choice of one university instead of another…the accident of a topic being raised or not raised at a first meeting- any of these chances might have kept us apart. But, for a Christian, there are, strictly speaking, no chances. A master of secret ceremonies has been at work.
Christ, who said to the disciples, “Ye have not chosen me, but I have chosen you,” can truly say to every group of Christian friends, “Ye have not chosen one another but I have chosen you for one another.” The friendship is not a reward for our discriminating and good taste in finding one another. It is the instrument by which God reveals to each of us the beauties of others.
C.S. Lewis, The Four Loves
My childhood friends gathered at a park near our elementary school in Provo to solve the world’s problems. The editor of the high school paper, the cheerleader, the actress, and I still found a way to get the giggles, despite all.
We were given an incredible gift
One hundred years ago, my Swedish and Finnish ancestors arrived in the United States. In the old countries, they were poor tenant farmers, but in America, they gave up farming and learned new skills. Within a generation or two, their children were planted solidly in the middle class.
In my reading this week, I learned that the American focus on individualism can make us prone to think we arrive at our current successes on our own. We can easily take pride in our personal efforts, taking for granted the sacrifices of parents and ancestors, including the homes, neighborhoods, and schools they created. There are daily and hourly sacrifices parents make for their children, but there are those in our ancestry whose sacrifices were just enormous. Many made the drastic move from all they knew: language, culture, livelihood, and family, to plant their family firmly in a higher class. To be upwardly mobile in class is an astounding feat, no matter when it takes place. Our family still claims blessings from this shift. It is a remarkable gift.
Richard Guymon’s wedding reception
Quail chickies
Maybe you need to see this, just like I did. I asked my kids to send me interesting things taken from their phone cameras. Paige sent this.
Odds and Ends
This was the week we were to be in Washington DC with our boys. I can’t say I wish we were there, based on current events, but we will make it back someday. If I were there in happier circumstances, I would sit on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial for a long time and seek some wisdom. I would give quiet pause to those represented by monuments and memorials. I would savor this view of the Potomac from Mount Vernon, and express gratitude for the founders’ sacrifices which we should honor, and for their vision we are still working to realize. Since I am home, I am doing other work to understand the issues of this time.
Last week, the power went out for an hour in the evening, just as I was about to cook something. I was so bothered by this inconsequential, silly inconvenience, and I can’t explain why this little thing toppled me when I have been adapting and adapting just like everyone else to changes of plan.
I realized I needed to make a list of joyful things I could do when plans fall through, as they continue to do. Most ideas didn’t require electricity or money. I have discovered that I have many projects waiting in boxes and shelves, sown with great intention, but without a harvest. I try to do a few joyful things each day, but really, being able to stand and make dinner, or clean a bathroom is a blessing after being out for so many weeks. I do miss conversations with women, yet I can’t make myself do anything about it, and when I am with people, I wilt. I am out of practice and out of so many people’s lives. I am doing the best I can, just like you, although our lives might look different. Here are two small things from my joy list:
Barriers Down
When I remember this time, I want this night to represent how many barriers have gone down in my neighborhood. In my interactions, there has been a warm and welcoming spirit among neighbors, including conversations that wouldn’t normally happen, and genuine smiley greetings from more than the usual neighbors.
In attendance at this neighborhood concert featuring Liam’s rock band, Psychedelic Purple, was more than the church-going crowd. We gathered at a distance, and we were invited to sit on the lawn of neighbors I know and love, but do not see in my usual circles. As I looked around at the faces, I thought how none of us have been to church in a while. Perhaps it took removing church and other things from our lives to get us on the same lawn. God knows what he is doing. And when we can go back to church and activities again, we need to keep gathering at our homes and lawns, as good neighbors should. We defied labels and barriers during these months. May it continue and expand.