A Better Sunday

Well, so far we're off on a better foot this Sunday than last. Here is a little overview of last weeks Sunday:
Reverence? It is something we teach in Family Home Evening over and over again, but there are weeks where the fruits of our labor are in serious drought! That was last Sunday. It all started during sacrament meeting when they were passing the sacrament. Worthy priesthood holders take the trays of bread and water to each pew and those who are worthy and willing to partake of the sacrament and renew there covenants, partake of the bread and water. This is the most important part of our Sabbath day worship. Well, a gentleman came to our pew with a tray of bread and Peter couldn't turn the opportunity down to strike up some conversation. "Did you know I'm a fast runner?" he asks. Not getting much of a response, he continues, "I AM!" Okay, I note to myself, we need to work on that.
Not 10 minutes later, after the sacrament thankfully, Mike pulls out an old small package of Sweetheart candy for Peter and Elsie to share. This does nothing but tick Elsie off. She yells out amongst the quiet, "I don't SHARE!", followed by a fit. So, it was out to the foyer for her.
As we split up into blocks, Peter and I went off to Primary and Elsie to Nursery. Apparently, during singing time in Nursery, Elsie got excited about her bellie-button and decided to lift up her dress to show everyone. This started a bit of a domino effect as other little girls thought that was a good idea as well. Ooops. Meanwhile, Peter is in Primary getting ready for Closing Exercises. We had just finished singing a reverent song and everyone was quiet and ready to start when we all hear being belted out, "YO HO, YO HO, A PIRATES LIFE FOR ME!" Yes, Peter was singing a solo. Sigh.
Church came to an end and later on in the day we decide to go visit a neighbor. Peter hopped onto his bike and we had a great visit. On our way home, Peter went on ahead and buzzed down the hill headed home. Only moments later we heard screams coming from the bottom of the hill. Mike handed Kimball off to me and went bolting down to our child's cries. Apparently, he had fallen and done a head plant in a pile of gravel from the wonderful chip 'n sealed roads. His forehead took the brunt of the fall, and he had cut himself pretty deep. From the sources of the kids around, they told me, "You should have seen it, there was blood everywhere!" Mike later vouched the same. I'm soooo glad Mike was there to save the day, and not me. We took him to the Insta Care where the doctor (who happend to be a lady!) deadened it with a patch (no needle thank goodness) and put in four stitches. As she was stitching him up she commented, "Oh, I see some muscle here." Ug. My stomach churned. Peter was sooo brave. He held very still and had incredible trust in his parents and care-givers.
However, by the end of the day we were all worn out. Mike took some pictures of Peter's head. I thought it was a bit morbid, but I promised I'd post them. I think it's a guy thing.:)
While the topical medicine was deadening the wound, it took about a half hour. The Insta Care was great because they brought in Bolt on a portable DVD player and had Peter completely in a trance.

here's the wound. It's not too big, but very disgusting.

It looks so much better today. We got the stitches out Friday and it is healing up so quickly. I am really relieved.

"This is What It's All About"

My family and I went to a funeral last Friday of Albert Miyasaki. He was my neighbor growing up and had a daughter my age. They lived next door to my family for 17 years. Our families were very close friends. I broke a number of their household items: chandelier, glass screen door, glasses.....you name it. Needless to say, they put up with a lot from me and I think a lot of the family. So, when "Good-ole-Al" died at age 58, it was hard to take in. My family and I drove the 2.5 hours to the funeral and my Aunt Anita (Thanks a ton!) watched Peter and Elsie for us while Mike, Kimball, and I went with my parents to the funeral. It was a tender service. My dad spoke and did a wonderful job as he talked about Albert's eagerness to serve and his sincere love and care he had for the individual. The phrase that stuck with me the most from the service is what I've titled this post.
Their son spoke at the funeral and told a story of when he was a troubled teenager and during one especially hard evening his dad, Albert, took him for a drive where they ended up at the temple grounds in Mesa. It was then he told his son as he pointed to the temple, "This is what it's all about."
I've thought about that phrase, and I must agree. Temples are a sacred place of worship for worthy LDS members. It is here where we make sacred covenants and we are sealed to our spouses and family for time and all eternity. Mike and I were married in the temple and so we will be together forever. When we die, nothing else much matters, but the way in which we have lived our life and the people that will be with us. The temple is what it's all about. I hope to always remember those words of wisdom and live my life as a testimony to that belief.