Time Experience Thoughts

The family at Kyle's blessing Sydney Carrie & Sydney Carrie & Scott Motley Ryan, Kyle, and Sean Motley Ryan, swinging and jumping Sean, swinging and jumping Kyle, jumping

[ Becky wrote our Christmas letter this year. ] Greetings family and friends, Our thoughts over the last year have been enlightened by the events of the world. We sense a need for greater spiritual strength in the face of overwhelming adversity. Our Stake President recently made the observation using a line graph that the increase of evil in the world parallels the increase in the building of temples—good and evil both on the rise. I think the case can also be made that the amount of good and evil trail the breakthrough of the Information Age. Our choices in this life have never before been so vast… the choice to live a life in pursuit of an inner strength to become a person of integrity or the choice to live a life in pursuit of every carnal whim. Each would claim its victory in the pursuit of happiness, but one would give lasting joy —eternal— joy and happiness while the other gives fleeting pleasure and feeble attempts at lasting joy. “Folly is joy to him that is destitute of wisdom...

Asking early -- and often -- for what they, really, really, want; Though, soon enough, receiving that which they actually need . . . and perhaps just a bit more. Seeking out the highest, and the brightest, The right, and things that matter most . . . they find themselves. Knocking on the doors of opportunity, They enter in with opened eyes . . . and fully enjoy, no longer boys. Scott L. Vanatter, 15 April 2008 (Poem for Kyle, Sean, and Ryan on Kyle’s birth)

The boys stir (awaking and arising) Plunging into new days of promise. The boys grow (playing and working) Building a better world and life. The boys know (connecting and embracing) Knitting together -- and healing -- generations . . . of softened, tender hearts. Scott L. Vanatter, 15 April 2008 (Poem for Kyle, Sean, and Ryan on Kyle’s birth)

I've grown accustomed to her face. She almost makes the day begin. I've grown accustomed to the tune that She whistles night and noon. Her smiles, her frowns, Her ups, her downs Are second nature to me now; Like breathing out and breathing in. I was serenely independent and content before we met; Surely I could always be that way again - And yet I've grown accustomed to her look; Accustomed to her voice; Accustomed to her face. . . . But I'm so used to hear her say "Good morning" ev'ry day. Her joys, her woes, Her highs, her lows, Are second nature to me now; Like breathing out and breathing in. I'm very grateful she's a woman And so easy to forget; Rather like a habit One can always break - And yet, I've grown accustomed to the trace Of something in the air; Accustomed to her face. (From, of course, My Fair Lady )