My Grandpa Shoaf died last week, and the viewing and funeral were last weekend. He died from cancer and suffered only a few weeks before passing away. It was all very quick and somewhat of a shock, though I was glad that he had time to say goodbye and get things taken care of without having to suffer for months or years on end. When I first heard that he was sick, I was surprised and a bit emotional, which actually surprised me. I've never had a very close relationship with my grandpa. I'm 1 of 69 grandchildren, and I never considered him a very social or affectionate guy anyway. It wasn't until the last few years that I think I even had a one-on-one conversation with him. He was definitely entertaining, but I never felt any kind of endearment to him. I chalked it up to our huge family and him not being "that kind of grandpa," which was fine.

So when he died, I was obviously sad but not devastated. I was more sad for my dad, who was losing his dad, and for my grandma who would lose her partner of over 60 years. I was surprised, then, to see such an outpouring of emotion on facebook from cousins who seemed to be legitimately devastated by his death. I felt like it competely shook my whole reasoning that he just wasn't "that kind of grandpa." Apparently, for some of my cousins he was. The next few days I really struggled with this, feeling guilty for not being more upset, wondering if I was maybe just more private than others, or if they really did have better relationships with him.

My only conclusion was that maybe the reason I didn't have a closer relationship was because I didn't try to. I only lived in Hope (where my grandparents live) until I was in 7th grade, then I moved away from Indiana right after high school. Since I was 13, I've visited my grandparents' farm maybe once a year or so. I would always see my grandma at church, but since my grandpa wasn't a member, he wasn't there. As a result, I probably only saw him a handful of times in the last few years. My two strongest memories of him actually come from two visits I made out there in the last few years, and both came because Jaime was here visiting and I was showing her around while he was here. Both times that I was there, though, he was more than willing to come wherever we were to chat. Maybe if I'd gone out there more often, I would have had a stronger relationship with him.

Going into this funeral, I was carrying a significant amount of regret over not having made the effort to have a closer relationship with my grandpa. Fortunately, the whole weekend left me with a feeling of gratitude and hope. I felt like I got to know my grandfather better those few days, just from everyone else's stories, than I ever knew him while he was here. It was such a pleasant experience to hear about what a respected and hard-working man he was.

As we drove in the processional to the cemetery, I was overcome at the respect and honor that was shown by people who did and some who maybe didn't even know him - the old, weak pallbearers who struggled to carry his casket to the hearse, the policemen who blocked the road so we could get through, the cars who pulled over on the side of the road as we passed, the men from the navy who came to honor him graveside, and the men and women from my parents' ward who showed up to help with the funeral and put on a luncheon for our 120+ family members.

 

Almost everyone who spoke at the funeral focused on how hard of a worker my grandpa was and how honest, generous, and diligent he was. The stake president spoke, and he shared a quote about how you can judge the character of a man based on how he responds to hard work: some turn up their sleeves, some turn up their noses, and some don't turn up at all. He explained that my grandpa was the kind who would turn up his sleeves, no matter what was asked of him. I was struck by this legacy that he'd left behind - a legacy of hard work - and I wondered if I'm continuing that legacy. When things get hard, do I work harder or do I just give up? I've thought so much about my job and how difficult it is, and I've been looking forward to when I can quit. I'm ashamed to admit that a lot of the time, I feel like just showing up to work at all is good enough. The Shoaf legacy, though - the legacy that I should be living up to - is not about good enough. It's about the best possible. It's my privilege to be a Shoaf, and after hearing about my grandpa's life, I'm resolved to be a better representative of what he stood for.

Nalon started playing basketball for the first time this year at a local community league. I made it down to watch his last game this weekend. All the players were first-graders which made it pretty fun to watch. Nalon even made a basket! Afterwards they got some pretty legit trophies for their participation. As you can tell, Nalon was overcome with emotion.

 



A miracle and a problem from last week. I'll start with the bad news first.

 

Problem: my niece, Emerson, is selling Girl Scout cookies.

 

This may not sound like a bad thing. Girl Scout cookies are delicious, right? Exactly. I live with her. My sister buys like a hundred boxes in advance and then just has them on hand to sell to people when they want them. Translation: endless supply of Tagalongs. I'm an honest person, so I'm going to go ahead and tell you that I've eaten no less than 2 full boxes myself.

 

Miracle: Jacob graduated from his rehab program! He stayed at the Salvation Army Adult Rehabilitation Center for 6 months straight and is now completely clean and sober, even giving up cigarettes. This is no small feat after about 15 years of substance abuse problems. In addition to his addiction recovery, he's been coming back to church and has made huge strides in his journey back to full activity in the church. I'm so proud of him, and I'm excited for his future.

 

Sidenote: the Salvation Army is apparently also a church, and the men at the rehab center are required to attend services there every Wednesday and Sunday. I've been before, and it's a very loud, passionate service. Jacob asked me several weeks ago to sing at his graduation, but I hadn't heard about it since then, so we didn't prepare anything. When I got to the graduation, he said he'd gotten permission to sing so I ended up singing "I Know My Redeemer Lives," since that's the only sheet music we had on hand. The preacher guy who was leading the service was definitely feeling it and started chiming in his amens and singing along (The answer to your question: no, he did not already know the song), which was all fine and good especially since he still had his microphone on. It was a very different experience from singing it in Sacrament Meeting. :)

 

Love this skeleton.

 And this goon.

I watched "Prince of Egypt" tonight and I was amazed, as I always am, at the miracles that these people got to witness. What an obvious testament of the love and concern that their Heavenly Father had for them. I especially love the part where they are crossing the Red Sea and both they and the Egyptians are overcome with awe and wonder at the grandeur of what they're seeing.

It got me thinking, though, about how easy of a task it really was to cross the Red Sea. How big was it? Don't worry, I looked it up on wikipedia. Let me tell you. The Red Sea is 220.6 miles wide at its widest point. By looking at the map, it doesn't look like there are any super skinny parts, so I'm guessing that even if they crossed at the narrowest point, it had to have still been more than 100 miles wide. 100 MILES. They were running from an Egyptian army who was still pursuing them with the intent to kill, they come up to a giant sea that they probably can't even see the other side of, and the Lord parts it. Incredible, right? But then they still had to walk across it. At least 100 miles across it. And on top of that, the average depth of the Red Sea is 1,608 feet. So on top of the 100 miles across that they had to walk, they had to first go down at least a quarter of a mile, walk across what I assume could only be a rocky and uneven, maybe even sludgy, seabed, then climb at least another quarter of a mile out before they made it to the other shore.

This completely changed the story for me. Obviously, the miracle was still there and it was still incredible. They walked through a sea on (relatively) dry ground with walls of water on both sides. That doesn't mean it was easy, though. Their deliverance was at the hand of the Lord and it was miraculous, but it also required a lot of work and endurance and effort on their part. The Lord didn't simply teleport them to their desired destination. That effort, though, didn't make their deliverance any less real or any less divine.

What I know is this: the Lord is intensely aware of our needs and desires and He is aching to help us. He will not, however, do for us what we can do for ourselves. He expects us to work and toil and struggle to find our way. The effort He requires of us, though, does not mean that we are working alone or that He is not involved. We are surrounded by miracles, but more often than not they are miracles we must work through. The trick is to learn to recognize the miracle, even amidst our strife. We must recognize that even though our path is sometimes rocky, the fact that He's given us the path (the Gospel) at all is a miracle. The Restoration of the Gospel of Jesus Christ in this dispensation (or this time period)is a miracle, but it's a miracle that many people have worked for and, in some cases, died for. That doesn't make it any less of a miracle.

Jeffrey R. Holland, one of the apostles from my church said this:

"Of course our faith will be tested as we fight through these self-doubts and second thoughts. Some days we will be miraculously led out of Egypt—seemingly free, seemingly on our way—only to come to yet another confrontation, like all that water lying before us. At those times we must resist the temptation to panic and to give up. At those times fear will be the strongest of the adversary's weapons against us.

'And Moses said unto the people, Fear ye not, stand still, and see the salvation of the Lord. . . . The Lord shall fight for you.'"

We will struggle and we will work. Sometimes it will seem like we are doing it all ourselves, and in those times we may wonder if we've made the right choices or taken the right path. I'm sure some of those Israelites were thinking there must've been a better way as they were walking that hundred miles across the Red Sea. But we cannot let Satan blind our view and keep us from seeing how blessed we really are, and how much the Lord really has provided for us.

Life requires effort, but life is a miracle.

Best part of winter break: Jaime's visit. Hands down. A few weeks before Christmas I got a letter from Jaime in the mail and when I opened it, I found a piece of paper that said something like "You better hold off on sending my Christmas present." I unfolded the paper and realized it was an itinerary for her trip to Indiana! I called and left her a message that was somewhere between laughing and crying. These past few months have been some of the hardest I've ever gone through, and having a break would have been amazing anyway, but having my best friend here during that break was such a treat.

 

I picked her up from the airport the Friday night after Christmas. It was snowing, and I thought it would probably be safest to just go straight home, but our plans were to go to a Peruvian restaurant that night and I don't break plans that involve Peruvian food. 

We spent the next couple of days at my house playing with my nieces and nephews who I think were just as excited as I was to see her. They love to skype with her, and every time I'm on my computer, Campbell asks to see "Sammy," (Cooper calls her Jermy) assuming that she's just there whenever we decide to call her up. They loved having her here in person.

We also went to Texas Roadhouse and to see Breaking Dawn: Part Two with my sister. Then we spent New Year's Eve with my parents, partying like rock stars. We played both Settlers of Cataan and Ticket to Ride then capped off the evening by watching the ball drop on TV. I was joined by my favorite additions to my wardrobe: my slippers. And also three of my favorite people.

 

We had a countdown for Nalon before he went to bed at about 10:00, and both Thomas and Micah went to friends' houses so our New Year's Eve party was pretty calm, except for the extreme frustrations of one Settlers player who will remain unnamed. (Not me this time!)

Every New Year's Day, my parents host a roller skating party at the local rink and invite anyone and everyone to come skate. It sounds lame, but it's actually really fun.

Jaime and Emerson were very patient models as I tried to figure out how to use the camera on my new phone. Campbell was not a very cooperative skater. She refused to move her feet, so her skates went wherever they wanted, requiring some very intensive assistance.

Jonah was a pro from the get-go. Cooper lasted about 10 minutes I think.

The turnout includesd mostly extended Shoaf family, including Crystal, Jayna, and Tessa, but many people from church came, too, and some neighbors and friends.

Afterwards, my Uncle Joel and Aunt Crystal, along with Adam and Karina, plus Tessa and her kids and Jacob and our cousin Alexis came over to my parents' house. We ate more food and played more games.

I don't think I was having a very good time by the end of this game, but Jaime and Jacob did pretty well!

Campbell is obsessed with taking pictures with my phone, but when it's in backwards-facing mode, she struggles with splitting her focus between the screen and the camera. This is the face she made when I told her to look at the camera, not the screen.

The next day, Jaime and I went to The Big Cheese and unabashedly shared three sandwiches between the two of us. Then we stopped by grandparents' house in Hope and visited with them. Talking to my grandpa is one of our favorite things to do and we laugh about it all the time. He's a funny guy.

We went to sushi that night, looking for a restaurant to replace Happy Sumo. It was pretty good, but I have yet to find a roll that I love as much as the cabana roll at Sumo. I'll keep trying.

The next morning we got up and went to an early showing of Les Miserables. I liked it, but I'll admit, I'm not sure I could sit through it again. It was just really long and not exciting enough to keep my attention for 3 hours. When we came home, we made cauliflower pizza. I'd never made it before, so Jaime took the lead. The crust is made up of cauliflower, an egg, and mozzarella cheese, then the toppings are the same as normal pizza. It looks pretty good, right? It tastes good, too! It's obviously not the same as regular pizza, but the flavor is still really good.

That night we went shopping and to dinner with my mom and sisters. I just really like being around all of them, and it's also nice when you find lots of good stuff. I scored some killer deals and came home with a bit of a haul. Jaime got some good stuff, too, and I thnk it took a lot of strength and effort to get her suitcase to close when she was packing up.

Jaime was sick while she was here, and Friday when she woke up she was just really not feeling well so we decided to take a sick day. I got up and worked out and did a few things around the house while she slept, then we played Monopoly and made dinner, followed by a movie. It was my idea to play Monopoly because I hadn't played in years and I thought it would be fun. I was wrong. I realized that unless you win, there is no way for that game to end well. It's a slow, painful death where the other person takes everything from you little by little. I probably need to never play that game again. I bet you can guess who won.

Our last full day we hit up the Indianapolis Museum of Art, because it's something to do and, bonus, it's free.

Neither of us is very knowledgeable when it comes to art, so our favorite part was the top floor which had contemporary exhibits that are a bit more interesting and impressive to the untrained eye.

We also went downtown to the NCAA Hall of Champions museum. I loved it. It's a pretty small museum, but they've set it up so you can compete as you go along, and I'm always up for some friendly competition. The first floor is full of small exhibits about each NCAA sport. Jaime obviously rocked the basketball trivia game. That's her at the top.

The top floor is all interactive. There's a small basketball court where you can shoot free throws, a virtual simulator where you can kick a soccer goal, kick a football field goal, throw a football pass, or shoot free throws. I went 9 for 9 on the free throw simulator and the guy who worked there was legitimately shocked and impressed. He said that no one who works there had even been able to make them all. I think he was a bit disappointed when he saw me shoot free throws for real in the basketball court. I'm pretty sure I made 1 out of 5.

I'm a wrestling champion. World champion.

Our last stop was another sushi restaurant, where we met Tessa for dinner. I forgot to take a picture of the sushi in all its glory, but here's our plate after we scarfed it.

The pieces were HUGE! We had some serious chipmunk cheeks goin' on.

The second Sunday was really fun because I was teaching that day. I love having people in my class who I know will always have insightful things to share. She's great about that.

When the kids came back from their dad's house that night, Cooper and Campbell wanted to watch every one of their FHE DVDs over and over and over again, and they obviously wanted to be sitting on Jaime while they did it.

I had to work the next day, but Jaime's flight didn't leave until that night so we had a chance to go out for dinner one more time. So obviously we went back to the sushi place we'd gone just two nights before. I'm a litle bit obsessive about sushi. We got one of the rolls that they set on fire when they bring to your table. We weren't big fans of the smokey taste that the fire left, but it was pretty!

This time, we both tried wasabi on our sushi for the first time. O.M.G. I don't know why you would ever do that to yourself more than once. Lucky for Jaime, I caught her experience on camera.

It was really sad to see her go, especially since it meant I was back to my daily teaching life which I'm not a huge fan of. I was so grateful that she came, though, and I really felt like it was blessing from my Heavenly Father, telling me I'd done ok, I'd gotten through the first semester, and now here's my reward. I just wish she could live here so I could have her and my family all in the same place!

 

My friend Craig posted this on facebook today, and it hit me pretty hard:

 

"I said to my children, 'I'm going to work and do everything that I can do to see that you get a good education. I don't ever want you to forget that there are millions of God's children who will not and cannot get a good education, and I don't want you feeling that you are better than they are. For you will never be what you ought to be until they are what they ought to be."

-Martin Luther King, Jr.

 

I sat here on my couch today, preparing a unit plan for my classes and then doing some reading about data analysis for my grad school class. All the while, I was thinking that this was not interesting at all to me, and I'd be happy when I could be done with it all.

 

After reading that quote, I realized that even if I do quit teaching after my two years, which I think is ok to do, I can never really be done with it all. It is still my moral obligation to ensure that those around me have the opportunity and future that a good education brings. Even if I'm not doing the teaching, I need to find another way to be involved in this movement which is so important, because I can never really become who I want to be if I neglect the needs of those around me.