Happy Sunday: The Temple

Hey, peeps.  Learn a little more about the most peaceful place on Earth and why I love it so much.  Happy Sunday to you all.

Karma

WELL...

The other day I was moving into my new apartment for---let me think---the 8th time in 4 years.  I've become an expert mover...well, expert delegater really, since I always summon the strong and able to do most of the work (thank you, Scott, if you're reading).  Upon cleaning out the fridge, I happened upon an industrial-sized, unopened bottle of chocolate syrup.  I'm talking, like, massive.  Enough to mix chocolate milk for an entire Samurai army.  I don't use chocolate syrup.  But there's no way I was going to throw that thing away.  Obviously the only logical thing to do in this situation is to leave it on someone's doorstep.

So I walked across the street to some no-name apartment complex and placed the bottle on the first doorstep I came to.  And then rang their doorbell and ran.  Any comment you just made out loud or in your head expressing your pity for the fact that I'm a super senior at BYU and somehow have yet to learn how to act like an adult is understandable.

Well yesterday morning, guess what I found on my doorstep?  A giant box of coffee cake from an unknown source (may be questionable, but it was dang good and I'm still alive after eating it).  BOO YEAH.  It's called karma, folks.  And proof that God rewards nice people.  Remember what I said about London?  Yeah.  I hate to say 'I told you so,' but...

To all those who doubted my maturity:  I believe I had the last laugh this time around.

PS:  I won a Kindle today.  With little to no effort on my part.  I'll let you know when this good karma trip runs out...

Happy Sunday: Another Testament of Christ

This slideshow is from the Reflections of Christ exhibition by photographer Mark Mabry.  It captures the climax of The Book of Mormon: when the resurrected Jesus Christ appears to his other sheep--the inhabitants of ancient America--after being crucified on Calvary.  

"And other sheep I have, which are not of this fold: them also I must bring, and they shall hear my voice; and there shall be one fold, and one shepherd." (John 10:16) 

The Book of Mormon truly is another testament of Jesus Christ.  It is real.  Those who wrote is were real.  And Christ really did appear to them and establish his gospel among them.  They are the other sheep of which he spoke. 

"...And behold, they saw a man descending out of heaven; and he was clothed in a white robe; and he came down and stood in the midst of them...And it came too pass that he stretched forth his hand and spake unto the people, saying: Behold, I am Jesus Christ, whom the prophets testified shall come into the world.  And behold, I am the light and the life of the world...and have glorified the Father in taking upon me the sins of the world, in the which I have suffered the will of the Father in all things from the beginning...

...And it came to pass that the multitude went forth, and thrust their hands into his side, and did feel the prints of the nails in his hands and in his feet; and this they did do, going forth one by one until they had all gone forth, and did see with their eyes and did feel with their hands, and did know of a surety and did bear record, that it was he, of whom it was written by the prophets, that should come...

And when they had all gone forth and had witnessed for themselves, they did cry out with one accord, saying: Hosanna!  Blessed be the name of the Most High God!  And they did fall down at the feet of Jesus, and did worship him." (3 Nephi 11: 8-17 The Book of Mormon)

Wet Bandit

Never mind that I stole this nickname from the Home Alone robbers.  I am completely deserving of the title.  This was how my morning started.  My bathroom is undergoing a major face lift, so while it's being ripped apart my landlord gave me a key to another apartment in my complex.

6:00 in the A.M.  Pitch dark.  I figured I was safe in nothing but a towel.

La dee da dee daaaaaaaaa

WHOOOOA!  So I just ASSUMED that this apartment would be empty!  I mean, who goes around giving people keys to occupied apartments?!  Mistake?  Likely.  Well, this one was very much lived in...  But I really needed a shower.  All seemed fairly quiet.  Not a creature was stirring.  Not even a mouse.  I considered my options.  I had visions of me standing naked in a prison cell--only a towel to cover my vulnerability, a bottle of shampoo to survive off of, and a razor to dig my way out.  I decided to risk being caught and went for the shower.

They had a freakin' NICE shower!  I'd hand out keys to that baby any day!  I may have overstayed my welcome.  But I'm the only one to wake up at 6:00 a.m. in the summer, so I figured my house fellows would still be asleep.  

A speedy escape. Pure stealth.  I have to do this until the weekend, so let's hope I stay in smooth criminal game mode.

Happy Sunday: What Matters Most

I realized today how greedy I am.  How selfish.  How much I hoard precious, priceless information that can bring everyone the greatest joy if I only shared it with them. Crazy how complacent you can get when you come home from your mission, huh?  I want everyone to know how much I love the gospel of Jesus Christ.  You can start to expect one of these from me every Sunday. 

In the great big scheme of things, what matters most to you?  What keeps you living?  What keeps you sane?  What keeps you hopeful, faithful, and happy?  My advice (which I always need to remind myself to take): Don't sweat the small stuff. 

 Happy Sunday, everyone.  Enjoy:)

Homeless

A quick travel log break to vent my frustration with BYU housing, via cartoon.  A toast to all who are left homeless at the end of every semester! 

Imagine all the people...

Westminster Abbey

As a victim of the incurable Travel Bug, I heartily enjoy listening to fellow travelers' stories of their own globe trotting adventures.  However, what I hear more than I care for are remarks such as, "France is lovely but the French are rude," "Germany is stunning but the Germans are cold as ice," and "Russia is great but the Russians hate life."

Often I think to myself, on which planet were these people traveling?  Believe it or not, in all my travels I have never encountered any such manner of people.  I have dealt with bus drivers, ticket salesman, waiters, policemen, hobos, gypsies, border patrol, drug smugglers, train conductors, store clerks, and the mafia.  Sure, some of those run-ins may have left me thinking, "gee, that guy was having a bad day," but I certainly wouldn't slam down the big rubber stamp labeled RUDE upon his family, neighbors, and all of his countrymen.

I am a firm believer in the "you-get-what-you-give" ideology.  If you're nice, people are nice to you.  This method has about a 95% success rate. So I'd go with it. I feel like those who stereotype an entire nationality are those who, first, heard such-and-such about the Venezuelans (for example), then believed it, then went to Venezuela expecting the Venezuelans to live up to that stereotype.  And they got what they gave.  It's a vicious cycle, folks.

"Look, kids!  Big Ben!  Parliament!....Big Ben!  Parliament!..."

 I want to make a shout-out to London.  I can't be bothered to look up accurate statistics, but I will go out on a limb and say that London is one of the biggest, most inhabited cities in the world.  And by far the most ethnically diverse.  Filled to the brim with rude French, cold Germans, bitter Russians, and such-and-such Venezuelans.  Shockingly, I didn't encounter a single one.  The only people I talked to (and I talk to a LOT of people) were extraordinarily helpful, generous, and kind.  I asked an older chap at a newspaper stand how to get to the Temple of the Knights Templar.  Not only did he give me directions, but he sang me a lively medley of songs about California after hearing where I'm from.  An usher at the Royal Albert Hall couldn't have been sweeter, even though she blatantly knew we didn't have tickets and probably snuck in in the first place (which we did).  A business man waiting at a bus stop during rush hour hooked us up with a free bus ride (more like illegal bus ride, but it was still nice of him).  The cashier lady at Harrods spent 5 minutes teaching me the whole British currency system while the line of customers behind me grew exponentially.  But she nor they were fazed to the least degree.

I guess what I'm trying to say is...be nice.  And expect people to be nice.  They're like dogs--they can sense fear.  And that is my travel advice for you.  Bon voyage!

Ze Tube

Buckingham Palace

Royal Albert Hall

Tower Bridge