Answer:
I promise Cooper actually does have pupils. He's into hiding them recently...
Sunday, March 10, 2013
Scary Cheery Faces
Today at church I had to fill out a questionnaire and one of the questions asked what simple thing could make me happy every time I saw it.
Answer:
Answer:
In our church, we believe that the same authority Christ and His apostles used to organize the church, heal the sick, and do other miracles has been restored on the earth today. We have a prophet, much like Moses, who receives direct revelation from Jesus Christ himself to direct and guide the Church, as well as the whole world. The prophet today is Thomas S. Monson, and he is an incredibly kind, thoughtful, and selfless man. More than that, he is a man who was chosen by God to be His mouthpiece on earth. I know that's true, and I know that God has called him so that we can always feel sure that we can do the things we need to, in the proper way, in order to return to Him.
We also have twelve apostles, much like Jesus' twelve apostles, who are called as special witnesses for Christ and who we also sustain as prophets. They are inspired men of God, and I also know that all twelve of them have been chosen by God to help lead us and to testify of Christ and His divine role as our Savior.
One of these apostles is named M. Russell Ballard. Last week he came to visit my parents' stake, so I went to the conference with them. This is him:
The talks given by him, as well as the other visiting authority and the stake president, were uplifting, and through their words I received personal revelation for some things I needed to do in order to improve myself and be happier. I know that what they said was true because I have seen changes and blessings in my life in the week that I have been trying to apply their teachings. I also know that Elder Ballard is a servant of God, called by God, because as soon as he walked in the room I felt the Spirit testify to my heart of his goodness and righteousness.
My mom had been asked to play the piano to accompany a musical number during the meeting. Because the pages of her music would have obviously fallen down if she'd tried to turn them herself, I volunteered to sit on the stand with her and turn her pages. Translation: I volunteered to be closer to Elder Ballard. He sat about two rows in front of me through the whole meeting - about 6 feet - then after the meeting was over my mom and I moved down towards the part of the stand where he was exiting and we were able to shake his hand. I know that it seems simple - we shook his hand - but it is not a simple thing to shake the hand of a man who has been called by God to be one of fifteen special witnesses of Christ on the earth today. It was as if I had shaken the hand of Peter or James or John from the New Testament. He is just as much a servant of Christ as they were and I am confident that He works as closely with Christ as they did then, though Christ is not physically present in our day. It was a simple experience, but I am grateful to have had it. It strengthened my testimony of the apostles' role, mission, and divine call.
To learn more about prophets, apostles, and the priesthood in our church, click here.
We also have twelve apostles, much like Jesus' twelve apostles, who are called as special witnesses for Christ and who we also sustain as prophets. They are inspired men of God, and I also know that all twelve of them have been chosen by God to help lead us and to testify of Christ and His divine role as our Savior.
One of these apostles is named M. Russell Ballard. Last week he came to visit my parents' stake, so I went to the conference with them. This is him:
The talks given by him, as well as the other visiting authority and the stake president, were uplifting, and through their words I received personal revelation for some things I needed to do in order to improve myself and be happier. I know that what they said was true because I have seen changes and blessings in my life in the week that I have been trying to apply their teachings. I also know that Elder Ballard is a servant of God, called by God, because as soon as he walked in the room I felt the Spirit testify to my heart of his goodness and righteousness.
My mom had been asked to play the piano to accompany a musical number during the meeting. Because the pages of her music would have obviously fallen down if she'd tried to turn them herself, I volunteered to sit on the stand with her and turn her pages. Translation: I volunteered to be closer to Elder Ballard. He sat about two rows in front of me through the whole meeting - about 6 feet - then after the meeting was over my mom and I moved down towards the part of the stand where he was exiting and we were able to shake his hand. I know that it seems simple - we shook his hand - but it is not a simple thing to shake the hand of a man who has been called by God to be one of fifteen special witnesses of Christ on the earth today. It was as if I had shaken the hand of Peter or James or John from the New Testament. He is just as much a servant of Christ as they were and I am confident that He works as closely with Christ as they did then, though Christ is not physically present in our day. It was a simple experience, but I am grateful to have had it. It strengthened my testimony of the apostles' role, mission, and divine call.
To learn more about prophets, apostles, and the priesthood in our church, click here.
Her Star's So Bright, She's Gotta Wear Shades
After some coaxing from my mom and me (and I'm sure her friends, who were probably more influential), Micah decided to audition for the spring musical at Columbus North High School. They did "The Drowsy Chaperone," and she made it into the core ensemble as a maid. Emerson and I went down last weekend to see the show, and we had a lot of fun.
I'd like to think that Micah joined show choir and theater as a result of my influence. You know - she just wants to follow in my footsteps. Truth be told, I think she does it just because she loves performing. And that's reason enough. This girl glitters on stage and that's a shine that's all her own. She's absolutely magnetic and a lot of fun to watch. I'm still proud that she's chosen to do things that were so important to me in high school, but I'm also thrilled to see her absolutely owning it.
She's a star.
Sunday, February 24, 2013
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.
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.
Sunday, February 10, 2013
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. :)
Tuesday, January 29, 2013
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