The Black Widow

She looks just like Charolette

Latrodectus the Black Widow Spider. Is very misunderstood. I have one living in my garage that I have named Charolette. She's been there all summer, plumping up from eating all the bugs that get into the garage. Black Widows have a bad reputation for eating their male counterparts, being an aggressive hunter, and having a deadly neurotoxin. However, contrary to popular belief not all species of the Latrodectus genus devower their poor unsuspecting mates after fertilization. Nor are they aggressive, they are extremely shy and will run away at any sign of danger. Their neurotoxin, latrotoxin, can cause some discomfort if your dumb enough or just unlucky to get bitten. (They will only bite you if they are "cornered" hence, if you try to pick them up. If they sense an escape route they will shoot for that first.) The latrotoxin causes a disorder called Latrodectism, which symptoms are similar to tetany. Painful muscle cramping. Will it kill you, most likely not, unless you are an infant or a very small child. Interestingly enough hospitals in the US will not risk using antivenom on a black widow victim because the likely hood of you having a fatal reaction to the antivenom is much greater than having a fatal reaction to the actual latrotoxin itself! So they just watch you and give you morphine for the muscle cramps and let your own body take care of the rest. Most bites don't even end up as a severe systemic reaction. But when it comes to hunting, black widows are great, that is true! They are one of the best spiders you can have in your garden or wood pile. They really keep the pests down and don't bother you in the processes. Plus they are beautiful creatures and their webs are amazingly strong. They are a work of art from the Grand Creator. It has made me think a bit about how we rashly judges others at times and so easily believe gossip that is spread about individuals. May be before jumping on the bandwagon of hate, fear, envy, and distrust so quickly we should suspend judgment of others until we have taken time to learn the truth ourselves. I have been the victim of misunderstanding, gossip, and judgment many times in my life and find it very heart breaking and sad. So the next time you see or hear of someone victimized as such, think of the black widow spider and how good she really is to the health and beauty of your home's flora, and stand up for that person.

Who Am? Where Am I Going? Where Do I Come From?

Last week I spent countless hours in the sun soaking up its rays on the beaches of Bear Lake. When I wasn't there I was spending time enjoying my family or just pondering off by myself in the beautiful cabin we rent every year in Garden City, UT for our family reunion. Working nights at the hospital made it difficult for me to go to sleep when everyone else did, so often I would stay up late reading or watching TV. One night I was watching a program on the science channel titled Children of the Stars. Interestingly it talked about how everything in the universe (all matter) is created from the birth and death of stars. We truly are heavenly creatures not just spiritually, but mortally as well. I have been pondering lately, "What is my purpose in this life?" We are taught that we must become as our Heavenly Father, but what is each of our individual purposes. What is the measure of my creation? What plan does God have for me to fulfill? I believe He does have one, I just need to seek and ask Him what it is. To guide me so I can fulfill His will for me. Russell M. Nelson said, "For the Monument of your life to rise from its pedestal of preparation to your appointed site of destiny, you must go where the Lord wants you to go. Wherever it is, each of us must go with the same faith that allowed us to leave our heavenly home in the first place."

Life Lessons from the Garden

This year I did not plant a garden, no flowers, no fruits, no vegetables. With how cold and long Spring was I never got around to starting it. Plus I started a new job around the time to begin it which added stress to my life and the garden just never was made a priority this year. So in its place a  menagerie of large and noxious weeds grew instead. Each week I would look out my window and say, "I really need to go out and get rid of those weeds." But alas, I always found something else I preferred to do instead. So the weeds grew and grew and grew. As of 2 days ago some of them were as tall as I am. It was early in the morning, after I got back from work, I was examining them and saw how they had leeched the soil and brought in unwanted bugs into the yard. Their roots were woody and had barbs around them making it nearly impossible to pull them out. But then I saw a plump red strawberry growing among the weeds. One of my strawberry plants managed to grow back among the weeds, in terrible soil, among the pests, and produce a few little tasty fruits. Of course the Spirit took this rare moment to teach several small but important lessons. You are the strawberry bush. Beautiful fruit is produced during some of the hardest seasons; the smallest efforts matter; the strawberry is beautiful but image how greater your joy would be with a garden full of strawberries .... do not wait to pull the weeds from your life until it is too difficult that it chokes your potential. It's funny how little everyday things can spark such important lessons. I'm glad they do because it keeps me open to the Spirit and humble. Well, the weeds are gone and I sprayed the yard down with bug killer, I had to have a moment of silence for all the good insects that croaked in the process. I plan to replenish the soil and plant a beautiful garden next year and hopefully I'll be able to post some great pictures for everyone.

A Deep Message From A Little Fish

Okay it has been years since coming to my blog but I am starting it up again. I'm opening it up now to whomever may want to read it because I hope to use it as a tool of inspiration and hope for me and in turn for others as well. And just a place to put goofy stuff and find happiness among the sadness. We all struggle and we're in this together. I was in a patient's room last night and she was watching Finding Nemo (such a great movie BTW) and it was at the part where all the fish get stuck in the fishing net. One fish alone can't hope to swim free but when we all swim against the net together we can break the cords that bind us. And of course who can forget the wise words from Dori? Well she can say it better than I can!

Memories of Iowa

Do you have a memory that sticks out in your mind? Summertime in Iowa is the grandest of mine. From my head to my toes the memories are stuck in my bones. I close my eyes and start to see fireflies, rivers, corn, and trees. The damp hot hair steams open my mind as memories begin to swell. Peppery-pan-fried catfish sizzling on the stove. My Grandma cuts the groesome head off and throws them in the garbage. I look into the can and see their black eyes staring, their soggy whiskers twisted, and their large mouths gaping open. The gooey smell is most revolting. I think I will not eat this stinky fish. But if I do not I will have no oatmeal cookies whose cinnamon smell has watered my mouth since morning. I can wash the fillet down with crisp watery melon that fills my mouth up with juicy sweet heaven. Then follow by buttery corn cobs bursting between my teeth. The golden, warm kernels pop inside my cheeks. I’m sure the fish is not that bad, it’s well worth the price I must pay, for scrumptious oatmeal cookies.
I go into the basement to watch my Grandpa saw. The screechy sound hurts my ears. I must cover them up if I want to stay. But the basement smells old, musty, and it’s cold. The corners are dark and the ceiling is low. I find it hard to breathe the dank, dirty air. I’m sure there is a ghost or two who have made their home down here. Bottles line the shelves with dust and decay, spider webs hang from almost every display. The stairway is steep and most creepy to climb but I think I’ll go back above ground where I can’t hear the ghouls whine. When the sun goes to sleep chirps, squeaks, and peeps sound of life. I hear the corn growing, it crackles and rustles. Twelve inches is not uncommon for corn to grow on a hot humid night. Fireflies glow leaving trails of white light and cicadas sing with trumpeting delight. A glass jar in my hand I race around in the grass yet the bugs are much too fast. I stumble and cry. "Daddy, will you catch me a firefly?" He is careful and steady as he snatches me a bug, screws on the lid tight, then hands me my little glowing light. I watch it with care as the fly crawls up a twig. It flashes and flutters while bumping his buggy head against the clear glass jar. I open the lid to give him his freedom but confused and afraid it just sits on the bottom. So I tip the jar over and lightly tap on the walls till my glittering insect flies out to his friends. My mother calls me in to snuggle down in my bed. I was tired that summer night, but still stored away this happy memory.

I Choose To Live

The path is laid before me but I must choose to walk it. At times it is uphill and laced with perilous dangers but if I am to return to sunshine and meadows of sweet smelling flowers I have to continue along this path of mine. This path is made for me and none other, but it has a direction and will lead to a tree of life. A rod of iron has been place along the treacherous edge for guidance and stability it I choose to use its steady power in my journey forward. At times there are forks and I need to choose which side to take; if I am wrong, the path can miraculously return to that which was intended for my greatest happiness through penitence and faith. But if a boulder or barrier lays in front of me, if trenches and marshes harrow the way, the path will never be diverted. I can not navigate them safely on my own, I need to call for help. For the hand to hold so I do not stumble and the feet which have walked this path before me. He will guide me through the difficulties but never around them. My heart becomes stronger with each step and my spirit grows with each miracle made. By and by the path will lead to springs of living water and fruit of joy, hope, and peace that I may partake of to strengthen my reserves. Meadows where love ones are met and you can share in the shining sun together. Companions are brought to you often to walk the distance with you on parallel paths that can join together for greater support. But each still has their own distinct path that is laid before them and only you can be the one that travels along its course. It is a trying path, yet a rewarding path if chosen. I will choose this path and I will walk it looking forward to the tree thereof and the place of rest with my loved ones forever and ever.

When you've hit rock bottom

How many times in ones life will you hit the bottom of the barrel? Once, twice, no unfortuneately I think many times. We suffer for what and why? For nothing, no I pray obviously something. Something greater than you or I; something cosmic and divine.

I trudge through mud so deep I may drown and yet a voice says keep going, soon you will find higher ground. Will it come as promised or am I forgotten, left alone to despair? I try my hardest as much as I can but it seems like not enough I am still stuck in the ground. No place to go, no sense of direction; do I keep walking and hope I choose the right way or sit and wait for guidance and risk sinking deeper into this mud of mine?

Who do I turn to, who do I trust? When all I feel is alone and lost, unheard in my prayers, and unnoticed in my efforts. I murmur much it may seem, my faith is weak and I constantly call for saving. If I was stronger perhaps I could pull myself from the trap but my energy is spent and my reserves are no more. All I have left is to reach up my hand and pray that someone will take it.

With hope shattered it's hard to reclaim, my body wishes to stop. But my soul will not give in, she is eternal and will fight to the end, a spark of faith is all she needs and a foot will move forward across this vast plain. There is no sense of direction, no beacon to follow but bending an ear to hear His small voice. Friends and loved ones surround, I am not yet as Job. Blessings have come to those who wait patiently on the Lord. Hope must be regained so that my wings may fly.