A Reminder

Last week felt real crumby.  No real reason why, but on Sunday both Jon and I admitted to each other we had been feeling down.  After church I did a habitual Facebook check and what I found was the "straw that broke the camels back."

A few years ago I helped babysit a young family in my parents ward while I was home for Christmas break.  The size of this family merited the need for a couple sitters, which is why I was called in to help a young uncle to the kids.  I had a great time.  The kids were so well behaved and fun, and there was another adult there to chat with.  Turned out the uncle was my age, he knew the guy I was dating at the time, and was just an all around nice guy.  The kids loved him and he took such good care of them.  I ended up seeing him a few weeks later while visiting the guy I was dating and he was just as friendly and nice.  And then I never saw or heard of him again.  Until I checked Facebook on Sunday.

I knew I recognized the picture of the guy attached to a news article that appeared on my feed.  However, after reading the title of the article, I wanted so badly for the picture to have fooled me; for it to be someone that I didn't know.  My fears were quickly confirmed and I instantly felt sick.  It turns out the guy I babysat with has been convicted of something pretty awful.  And just when I thought I couldn't feel any worse, I started reading the comments people had made on the article.

"He deserves to be publicly hung."

"What a disgusting waste of skin."

"Shoot the sick weirdo!"

Based on the nature of his crime, I guess a certain part of me can understand these reactions.  But I still wish that negativity didn't need to be put in writing.  Needless to say, after reading all of this I went from feeling crumby to downright discouraged.

Here I am.  Stuck in a world full of bad people doing bad things and more bad people saying bad things about the former.  Why is everything just so hopeless?

It was then that a quiet and simple reminder was placed in my mind that has given me peace since then.

It's not a bad world full of bad people; it's a fallen world full of fallen people.

And the fact that it's only fallen makes all the difference.

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A Magnificent Life

I've always felt a little ripped off that I wasn't born and raised 100 years earlier, but lately I've been feeling extra underwhelmed with living in this day and age.  I know, I know, this is the age of technology and possibilities, infinite access to information and endless means of communication.  We've got it all!!  I'm a fool to wish I could give this all up, aren't I?  Although I've been blessed to live in an era where I can ditch all my menial tasks to a machine, gather all my food in one place, and use the crapper indoors, I feel like I'm robbed of the opportunity to live a magnificent life like the ones my ancestors lived.  People back in the day lived magnificent lives, full of hard work and sacrifice.  And that hard work and sacrifice gave them a kind of character and depth that I feel people nowadays just can't attain.  And so I'm bummed.  I'm bummed that the life I've been given to live won't be quite as magnificent as the lives I've been studying.

Take my Great-Great-Grandma Hannah Simmons Gibb for an example.  She was the second wife of a man named John Lye Gibb, married shortly before polygamy was brought to an official end within the church and declared illegal in the state of Utah.  And since she was sealed to her husband, she remained married and reared 10 of his kids.  By herself.  On what she called "the underground," or in hiding, in order to keep John out of jail.  This meant constantly packing up and moving at the drop of a hat whenever authorities were alerted to her situation and location.  This went on for 14 years until her and her kids moved north and were among the very first settlers of a town called Raymond.  Here she became the town midwife, delivering hundreds of babies and never losing a single one.  And although Hannah and her husband no longer needed to worry about being arrested due to their marriage arrangements, John remained with his first wife Sarah in Magrath, while Hannah lived very much alone.  In fact, today John and Sarah are buried in the Magrath Cemetery, side-by-side, while Hannah resides under a single tombstone, alone in the Raymond Cemetery.  Hannah is one of my heroes, and she lived a very magnificent life.

Hannah Simmons Gibb

Another hero of mine is my Great-Great-Grandpa William Alvin Bennett.  He was born in Dingle, Idaho and then immigrated to Canada with his family while in his youth, a journey just under 700 miles made via wagon and horseback.  Once in Southern Alberta, Alvin began working and never stopped.  He helped with the construction of the irrigation canals, established homesteads, drove horse teams in the coal mines, and in his free time, broke, cared for, and raced his most prized possessions, his horses.  Some of my favourite stories from his life history detail the frightening fights he put up against wild prairie fires that would come sweeping across the plains towards his crops and home.  There was no fire department to call up to save you back then, instead he had to hitch up his team of horses and plow like mad in order to create a dirt barricade of sorts between the fire and his fields and home, praying the barricade would be wide enough that the fire couldn't jump it.  My Great-Great-Grandpa Bennett lived a magnificent life and he is one of my heroes.

William Alvin Bennett with his wife Mary Walker Bennett

And then there are the founders of my hometown, Raymond, Alberta: father and son duo, Jesse and Raymond Knight.  Jesse was born in Nauvoo, Illinois, son of Newel and Lydia Knight (yes, the Newel Knight from the Doctrine & Covenants).  After migrating to Utah due to persecution, Jesse grew into an ambitious and unbelievably prosperous miner.  After staking claim to the Humbug Mine, it wasn't long before Jesse struck "one of the richest lead-silver deposits ever found in the West."  But fortune and riches did not blind Jesse to the goodness of God.  Instead, Jesse continually used his wealth to aid and bless the lives of others.  When the call came to settle Southern Alberta in order to create the irrigation canals, Jesse was asked to help fund the creation of a settlement and industry in the area.  Thus Jesse sent his son Raymond north along with the finances to build the iconic sugar factory still located just outside of Raymond, Alberta.  One of the most fascinating stories from Jesse's life is how he saved the financial integrity and credit of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints by loaning them a sum of $10,000 in the year 1896.  Jesse Knight lived a magnificent life and he is another one of my heroes.

Jesse's son Raymond was a pioneer and cowboy through and through.  Not only did Raymond see to the sugar beet industry, he also managed the 400,000 acre "Knight Ranch," which is still in existence and is owned and operated by the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.  Although the life of a settler was definitely full of work, Raymond made sure there was time for play, which for him meant rodeo.  The Town of Raymond boasts being "Home of the First Stampede," which wouldn't have been possible without the cowboy spirit of Raymond Knight.  Not only did Raymond Knight win the steer roping competition in that first rodeo, he earned himself a name and reputation that would have him years later called upon to organize a rodeo in Saskatchewan for the viewing pleasure of the Prince of Wales.  I don't care if everyone in Southern Alberta feels us Raymondites are arrogant, I can't help but feel proud to be from a town with such a rich history and magnificent founders.  Raymond Knight truly lived a magnificent life and he is one of my heroes.

Jesse Knight

Edward, Prince of Wales, with Raymond Knight

So here I am.  Sitting on a giant bed with a device on my lap that allows me to share my thoughts with literally the entire world.  And I feel bummed that my bed isn't smaller, that my body isn't aching from washing my clothes by hand, and that my home is surrounded by hundreds of other small townhouses.  I get it, the grass is totally greener on the other side, but on the other side the grass is greener because it is being watered by hand, probably after hauling the water a great distance, and the person watering it is on their way to a magnificent life, because magnificent lives are the fruit of hard work and sacrifice.  And I just don't feel like the life I've been given will really amount to that sort of magnificence.