The Lincoln Memorial

As my eyes glided up his statue, I felt a piercing sense of respect and honor for this simple politician from Illinois.

I turned to my left and let the simple eloquence of the Gettysburg Address brush me. To the right was inscribed Lincoln's Second Inaugural Address. This speech was humbly offered on March 4, 1865, as the Union's victory was virtually certain. The words are beautiful, full of hope and forgiveness. But the raw material of the speech is nothing but smoke alone. It is the context of this invocation that merits its notability.

Lincoln, having been stripped of any signs of health or youth, having severally maiming his marriage, and having watched the bloodiest war of U.S. history unfold before him against his deepest pleas, had every earthly right as President to wave the swift and heavy arm of justice upon the South. He never wanted a war. He never even wanted to force the emancipation of slavery. But in a solemn effort to save the God-given union, he fought. He fought not for his own freedom but for the freedom and union of others. Stop and think about that. He was heavily pressured by Radical Republicans, peers, to bring punitive action to the South. Yet, we see His speech. His speech, in which he rhetorically knelt down and humbly forgave the South, welcomes back all to the United States of America. Think of that! What a man. What a leader. What a man of God. Quiet mercy in the cacophony of justice.

After this stunning act of love--just five weeks later--this special man was shot in the skull in cold blood resulting in a long, agonizing death.

Here is a man who strove for unity in a divided country. Here is a man who honored the rule of law and who defended the Constitution even when it meant honoring his vehement enemy of slavery. Here is a life bathed in sacrifice for his country, for others, for everything but himself.

I couldn't help but cry as a flood of gratitude for this man washed over me, chocking me with emotion. This monument will always be a special place for me.

I Love History

So I consider myself the luckiest man alive. I'm going back Back East for school. I lived all around New England for two years as a missionary, seeing more of that area of our beautiful nation than anyone could hope for. But now I have 9 more months on this side of the country, but in Williamsburg, VA.

After taking my challenging AP U.S. History class with Mrs. Dowler in high school I developed a veracious appetite for our country's history. Teaching hundreds of students about our American Heritage during my undergraduate experience at BYU made me appropriately sold to the prospect of attending the College of William & Mary for graduate school.

For the next several months, I'm going to document my adventures on this blog. My goal is to tempt anyone who reads this to come out and touch the wealth of history here that is yours and that is mine.

His Last Week

I do not attempt to understand the complexities and entirety of the great ordeal the Savior Jesus Christ underwent during the sunset of his life. But, after studying the Savior's last week for some time now, and because I have the blessing of visiting Jerusalem in a month, I decided to share what I know to be true.

As prophesied by Isaiah and Zechariah (Isaiah 62:11; Zech. 9:9) the Savior road into Jerusalem for the last time on Sunday (Matthew 21:1-11). He also walked to the outskirts of the Holy City and wept over it (Luke 19:41-44).

The next day, Monday, the Savior cursed the leaved yet barren fig tree--a very powerful metaphor. After this object lesson, the Lord cleared the temple for the second and last time, only escalating the Jewish leadership's vehement distaste for the Savior. (Matt 21)

Tuesday, the Lord predicted the destruction of the temple and taught several parables concerning questions on authority. Also during this day, Judas arranged the betrayal of the Lord for 30 pieces of silver. Some say this would be worth roughly $4,000 today.

On the Thursday of the week, the Lord took his disciples into an upper room. There, Jesus washed the feet of the Twelve (John 13: 3-10) pronouncing them clean. He also had kept the Passover meal as it was the first day of the feast of unleavened bread. Following, He instituted the sacrament (Matt. 26:1), and gave a discourse on the Comforter (John 16:7-16)

Then to the Garden of Gethsemane He went where the agony to balance every emotional, mental, physical pressure, pain, fear, or discomfort of each soul that ever has, or will live would be solemnly laid upon the Savior (Luke 22:42-46). This condition caused "the greatest of all, to tremble because of pain, and to bleed at every pore and to suffer both body and spirit." (D&C 19:18)

Upon the completion of this portion of the Atonement, having suffered all of it alone while his dearest apostles failed to comfort him because they fell asleep, a set of guards came for him. This action, spurred by one of his very apostles, marked the beginning of the end.

The Lord was brought before Annas who then sent him to Caiaphas, Annas' son in law (John 18:13, 24). By the time he was transferred to Pilate, Peter, the one who held the priesthood keys of the kingdom, as prophesied, denied his discipleship and association with the Savior thrice (John 18:25-26, Matthew 26:69-74). Jesus Christ had now been up the entire night. As Pilate found no fault with the Savior He was sent to Herod. After receiving no answers to his questions, Herod sent the Savior back to his late fancied associate Pilate (Luke 23:4-12).

After offering the release of a prisoner, as customary during the Passover season, Barabbas (ironically meaning "son of the father") an imprisoned murderer, was freed. The Jewish crowd pressured Pilate into crucifying the already flogged, beaten, spat-upon and mocked Lord with diabolical chants: "and they were instant with loud voices, requiring that he might be crucified" (Luke 23:23).

So to Calvary or Golgotha (both meaning "skull") he went, the very last walk he would make in his mortal state. Too fatigued from the sheer weight of everything, he couldn't carry the cross himself. So "they compel[led] one Simon a Cyrenan, who passed by, coming out the country, the father of Alexander and Rufus, to bear his cross" ( Mark 15:21)

For three hours (from about 9:00 a.m. to noon) he hung there in agony. People offered him wine mingled with myrrh to ease the pain, but he declined (Mark 15:23). Then for three more hours (noon to 3:00 p.m.) he hang in the darkness (Mark 15:33). Then at the ninth hour, or 3:00 p.m., He underwent the same cataclysmic, soul-wrenching experience of being alone, without support of His Father. As if all this weren't enough, the guards gave him vinegar to spite his piercing thirst.

As a sermon appropriately delivered from his elevated placement, He uttered His last words of, "It is finished" (John 19:30).

I have a knowledge of these events and am so grateful for the life, example, and Atonement of the Lord. My hope is that we may always remember these things and live accordingly.

Life Is Short

"Dan, uhh...this is Dad," my dad began his phone message as he usually did. But this time, his voice sounded a little more sober than usual. He continued, "John and Mike rolled the truck on their way back to Utah. They are OK but I thought you should know." Immediately I called my little brother, hoping the second part of my father's message was, indeed, true.

He was OK. I then left the party I was at and headed down to Cedar City to pick up him and Mike. After three hours of anticipation on the road, I pulled up to a hole-in-the-wall Mexican food hut where my shaken-up brother and his friend were found.

I gave John a huge hug, then he looked down at himself and said, "Man, I ruined my jacket." That is so John. He then told me what had happened:

"We were driving 80 mph on a clear road and then came up to an overpass. Apparently, the top of the overpass was full of black ice. We slid to the right and hit the right barrier and flipped. Then we slid upside down for about 300 feet. After we stopped, I turned to Mike while hanging upside down and made sure he was OK. Mike then saw two white lights coming towards us. He closed his eyes and the oncoming car hit us. After we stopped moving I dropped out of my seat and kicked my door open. Miraculously, we made it out alive."

I could have lost my brother two days ago. So often we see through the lens of denial: "That never happens to me." Well, it almost did to me. I think we can cherish our loved ones more than we do. You never know when those we love are gone.

Edwin Mccain

So Edwin Mccain is one of my favorite artists out there. I think he has genuine lyrics and a classy, refreshing style. He's well known for his timeless "I'll Be" and "I Could Not Ask For More". But my favorite song is not found anywhere in the MP3 world. I've tried to download "Shooting Stars" to no avail. Even Amazon and iTunes has failed me. But there is a great website called BeeMP3.com that enables you to at least listen to it. So to all my faithful followers (basically just Kyrsten), enjoy this audio feast:

	Edwin McCain - Shooting Stars .mp3
	Found at bee mp3 search engine

Scuba

So I just started a scuba class. Among my many lessons learned, here are my choicest:

1. If you are a nose breather, don't scuba dive.
2. There are small jelly fish at the bottom of the pool. Oh wait, those aren't jelly fish.
3. It is very disturbing to have a floating hairball run into you.
4. There are few things more disturbing than seeing nasal "stuff" gliding in front of you.
5. But there is absolutely nothing more disturbing than accidentally turning your view toward the water aerobics area of the pool.
6. Never ever open your mouth while in a swimming pool; the water may look clean but trust me, you have no idea!
7. Don't relieve your waters in the pool. No really! You can't hide it in scuba class.

Some of my artwork

Being put in the lower-level reading group in first grade was easy to discover as I quickly noticed that almost every kid in my cohort was either extremely "slow" or speaking Spanish as his/her first language. Needless to say, I didn't feel very good about myself. But my second-grade teacher, Mrs. Bradbury, complimented me on my artwork and made me feel like I had a talent. Not only did that self confidence boost dramatically ratchet up my academic trajectory, but it also spurred a lifelong hobby of artwork. I'll never forget the lesson that wonderful woman taught me during such formative years. Well, the intricacies and communication of the human face have always intrigued me so I've tried to capture some of that in my work. Here are a few of my pieces:

Beautiful Innocence

Little Emma

Good Times

Grandma Harp

Grandpa Harp

Attempt at Still-life

LA Temple

He Knows the Way

Pondering

Intensity

Pete

Pretzel Boy

Acquainted with Grief

Submissiveness

Sunset

Strange Man

De Vinci Sketch

My Bodyguard

John Chillin'

Palestinian Shepherd