Costa Rica 2011

The plane touched down at 12:40am on Wednesday, May 25th. After riding the train back to the main terminal, we claimed our baggage and waited for the van that would take us home. It was just a few minutes before 2am when we finally arrived. The kids went to bed immediately, having to arise only five hours later for school. Kelly retired shortly after them, and I followed a couple of minutes later, after checking all of the doors and feeding the fish.

It was a terrific vacation. Zip lining, swimming with dolphins, a second death march, poison dart frogs and four different kinds of monkeys. We did it all, and it was incredible. I'll write more about our trip in the coming days, but for now, please enjoy some photos from Costa Rica.

A Terribly Bitter Pill

I took my first PMP class a little less than two years ago. PMP, for the uninitiated, stands for Project Management Professional. It's the gold standard for Project Managers, which I am.

I sat in that class at Learning Tree International and thought to myself, "What in the heck is this guy talking about?" It hadn't been too long before that I'd never even heard of the PMP credential. I'd never knowingly put any of PMI's (Project Management Institute) principles into practice, and though I had been a Project Manager for more than 10 years, I sat in that class with the most bewildered look on my face and a sense of being lost in a vast new world.

I felt exactly the same way yesterday as I sat for my PMP exam. What in the heck am I doing here? What language are these questions written in? What in the world are they asking me?

I read every question at least twice, and most of them I read five or six times. Two hundred questions and four hours of sheer torture. To say the least, it did not go like I'd hoped it would.

I was not prepared sufficiently for this exam. I'd probably answered a couple thousand practice questions in my meager preparations, but none of them were used on this exam and none of them were anything like the questions I had to answer yesterday. It made me feel like I'd been told to study my Spanish because I was going to be tested on it, only to have the exam written in French. It was awful.

The very first question should have been a signal to me that I was not going to carry the day. I don't remember exactly what the question was, but I do remember that I had no idea of the answer. I sat, literally, for five minutes staring at the computer screen, only to guess in the end. It was a common theme throughout the day. I probably guessed on a majority of the questions, and now I know that guessed wrong on most of them.

As I look back now, I'm not surprised that I failed. But as I sat there and saw the word "FAIL" come up on the screen, it made me feel like a loser. That one word was screaming, "You stink! You'll never pass this exam! Ba ha ha ha ha ha!!!"

I felt the blood rise from my toes and quickly disperse throughout my whole body. Every corpuscle in my body was filled to its maximum capacity and I almost felt like passing out. I felt horrible, like a 112-pound palooka getting into the ring for the first time, only to look up and see Mohammad Ali in the other corner.

I clicked the End Exam button with 1:12 left. I'd reviewed all of my answers and thought I had a pretty good shot at passing. Then the word FAIL popped up and I felt like I'd let everyone in my life down. Five hundred dollars right down the tubes.

Failure comes in many different flavors. This failure was especially hard for me to chew up and swallow. It was very, very bitter. But swallow I have, and now I'm moving on to the next big thing. Oh, I'll take the exam again, and I'll pass the danged thing. I am just looking ahead, instead of back.

I memorize scripture as a "hobby". I guess it's more of a life's venture than it is a hobby, but I do it every morning for about an hour. I don't know how many I've memorized, but it's a lot. I start when I get in the shower, and I quit when I get to work. It kind of sets the table for the whole day. I've been doing it for about 12 years.

Currently, I am memorizing one from Romans 8:28-31. Yesterday, as I was getting ready, verse 31 stuck in my head. I was especially nervous about the exam, so it had special significance to me. It reads, "If God be with us, who can be against us?"

That one verse really hit me and the nervous feeling I had just went away. I was confident. I was ready!

Well, not quite.

As I stood in the shower this morning, the warm water washing away yesterday's dirt and pain, I was reviewing the same four verses. Today, the first verse stuck in my head instead of the fourth. The verse reads, "For we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are called according to His purpose."

I love God! I have been called according to His purpose! This will all work out in the end. I don't know if it's God will that I go down this road, but I'm confident that He's going to leave that decision to me. I think He is happy to know that I am trying to better myself.

I also know that bumps and bruises, such as this one, will make me stronger in the end, and will actually give me a reference point somewhere in the future. Who knows but that I'll be able to help someone with their problem, just because I failed and can understand what the pill tastes like?

The next time will be different. I'm going to give it the very best I have. I know how to study now. I know what to study. And maybe that's one of the things I'm supposed to learn from all this. I didn't know the material like I should have. Next time will be different.

And the next pill I have to swallow regarding this will be made entirely out of sugar...nice and sweet.

My Most Prized Possessions

In my home I have a small, fireproof safe that my brother Marc gave my family for Christmas several years ago. In it we keep all of our important documents, like our marriage license, a letter my dad wrote me before he died, and a host of other important possessions. There's nothing in there that cost us a lot of money, just birth certificates and such like that that we don't want to lose. They are important for life and they're important to me.

I also have a few other possessions that are really dear to my heart. One is a small, red Swiss Army knife my brother Eric gave me when we went to Europe together. I love my brother, and the fact that he would buy me a Swiss Army knife, in Switzerland no less, and have my name engraved on it, touches me deeply. I've misplaced it several times, which caused no small anxiety in my soul. Luckily, I've found it each time and now I carry it with me everywhere I go.

I also have an old key ring that my dad used to carry around that's made out of a buffalo head nickel. My dad was always one of my best friends and it means a lot to me that he owned this key ring and carried it around in his own pocket. It resides in my small "stuff" drawer in my dresser.

Another of my most prized possessions is a 12-string guitar my mom and dad bought me while I was going to school at BYU. It has a gorgeous cherry neck and a beautiful tone that makes me happy when I play it. I toted it back and forth from home to school every year, except once when the airline wouldn't let me take it on the plane. I missed it terribly that year. It's in my computer/music room and I love to go down there and play it.

There are a few other things I'd try to save in an emergency, such as my bike, a 50-cent piece that was given to me by a student I once had, and a couple of poems and drawings my kids have made for me over the years. They all hold a small, sentimental place in my heart because the people who either once owned them or gave them to me mean a lot to me. Again, there's nothing that cost me a lot of money, but these things hold certain importance to me because of who gave them to me or how I got them.

I'm sure everyone has things like this. Granted, they are only things, but they still mean a lot to us and we'd actually risk life and limb for some of them. Some, like our important documents, we keep in a lock box for safe keeping. Others are kept in safe deposit boxes and we trust the banks to keep them safe for us. Others we keep in a different safe place.

All of these things, though, compared to the actual people I got them from, mean absolutely nothing. In the event of a fire or other emergency in my home, I'd run back through the blaze to save my wife, my son and my daughter and think nary once about the other stuff. I wouldn't think twice about it. Sure, it would hurt a little bit if I lost the stuff, but if I lost those people it would be the most devastating thing in my life. I'd gladly sacrifice my own life for these people, but I'd let the possessions burn. I'm sure it's that way with most people.

Our Heavenly Father loved (and loves) His Son more than anything. The scriptures call Jesus His "Only Begotten Son" and His "Beloved Son". Think about how much you love your own son (or daughter) and then multiply that by a God's love. He was the chosen Savior, prophesied of for centuries. He was the Creator of the world who worked side by side with His Father in the effort to bring to pass "the immortality and eternal life of man." The world was made by Him and for Him. So, you can imagine how Heavenly Father felt when it came time for the Atonement and the Crucifixion.

I'm sure there was a lot of pain associated with those two critical events, not only here on earth, but in the heavens. It could not have been an easy thing for Heavenly Father to watch, though He knew, of course, the eventual outcome and its eternal ramifications. I don't pretend to know what He felt, but parents, even Eternal Ones, I'm sure, never like to see their children suffer. But suffer He did, more than any human being had ever or will ever suffer again. So much so, in fact, that the scriptures say He "trembled because of pain," and bled at every pore and would that He "might not drink the bitter cup and shrink."

And yet, despite all of that excruciating pain and seeing His Beloved Son suffer so unbelievably, Heavenly Father chose to run back into that burning house and save you and me, leaving His Only Begotten Son inside to suffer and die. As precious and unblemished and beloved as that Son was, He saved you and me instead.

I consider myself akin to a dust bunny under the bed of life. Compared to the Redeemer of the world, I am an insignificant speck, a very unprofitable servant. The thought that he would save me, a proud and sometimes arrogant, foolish, lazy man, makes me shake my head and weep.

But I also realize why He made that choice. It's because we're family. He is my Father. For better or for worse, He loves me. And so does Jesus. Me. Me! Even me.

"For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life. For God sent not His Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world, though Him, might be saved." - John 3:16, 17