The Day to Day Miracles on the set of Uphill Battle: Part 2

Day 6:

Saturday, May 14, 2011

Last night's late wrap (1:29 AM) facilitated a late start time again today. Today was not an originally scheduled work day, though Rod and I both knew from the beginning working today was likely. Some of the crew took the day off. We were down a 1st AD and make-up artist. Shelby, that amazing miracle worker, scoured her contacts and friends of friends for a fill in make-up artist for the day. Less than two hours before the shoot, Tresia was hired! She did a beautiful job matching the looks Tara established. During lunch, Tresia let me know that the job had been a miracle for her and a direct result of paying tithing. She had paid it with the faith that doing so would bring blessings. She was so grateful for the work, and we were so grateful for her!

During lunch, I sent Taylor and Christian to run some errands. One of the errands was to buy three shirts for Aura for the rest of her scenes. She had run out of wardrobe. I gave Taylor the name of the store (a women's clothing boutique) and the address and these instructions "Buy something that looks, conservative, classy and cute, preferably in solid colors." He returned with a black shirt with a floral design around the neck, a red slim fit shirt, and a grey shirt with a baby doll type cut. I was astounded and impressed! He had been making the ladies on set happy all week with Dove chocolate and indulgent trail mix, but this was sensational!

The set had a peaceful feel and a lot of positive energy abounded. It was relaxed, unified, and "chill" as several people put it. It was probably just more "quiet" because the overall number of people on set was greatly reduced. We moved through scene after scene with relative ease and completed our day just after 8:00 PM. Finishing early was amazing, as it gave us time to completely break down the set and empty out the house. We'd be at a new location on Monday. When the house was empty, still and quiet, I said goodbye to it for the last time. I went in my grandmother's bedroom and slipped into the closet to offer a prayer of gratitude for all the miracles we had experienced to that point, and for the spiritual help my grandmother was providing.

Aura had a friend over when we got home that helped, along with Shawn and Taylor to completely empty the trailer and re-set the borrowed furniture and decor to its original position throughout our house. For the first night in days, we were in bed by midnight!

Sunday, May 15, 2011

Though not a work day, several miracles took place today that are worth mentioning. As of noon, we still hadn't found Greg's car for the opening scene of the movie that would be shooting Monday morning. The script called for an Audi. The Audi from Stand Strong had since been sold. At church today, Shawn talked to one of his friends about his red Porsche. He agreed to let us use it in the morning for the scene that would be the opening shot of the movie. There was only one condition, that it not be raining because the convertible top was stuck in the down position. We prayed the rain would stop, at least between 8:00 AM and Noon on Monday!

The other miracle involved the home we would be shooting in the next day. The home was to be the "pre-divorce" home of the lead character. All of the pre-divorce scenes are seen as flashbacks throughout the movie. While writing the script, I could literally see in my mind's eye, the interior of the upper-end two story home where the character lived. In the opening scene, the lead character watches from a window above the driveway as her husband backs away. I saw it clearly and described it in words for the script. When looking for the home, I assumed it would be easy to find that type of set up and style of home, and that I'd know the place when I saw it. Several weeks ago, I thought of a friend whom I know to maintain her home beautifully and tried to get a hold of her. It was difficult finding her current number and when I finally got it and called it, there was no answer. I didn't feel that I keep pursuing it, and instead again started praying to find the right house. From that point, I kept thinking of a neighbor's home only a block from my own. I had seen the exterior, which is a beautiful two story home, but had never been inside. A friend of mine lived there a few years ago. To the shock of the neighborhood, my friend's husband shot her and then himself. The home was vacant for more than a year and then purchased by another neighbor. I kept thinking of the house and that it was the right one. I talked to the home owner who said we could film there. A week after scheduling it with him, Shawn ran into his wife at the park on Saturday. Shawn mentioned our coming to film on Monday. It was a miracle he ran into her because she had no idea of the plan. Her husband forgot to tell her. Shawn also asked if we could come by after church to look at the house and get acquainted with the space before showing up to film on Monday. She invited us over directly after church to look at it.

As we pulled up, I looked up at the window over the garage. I said "We need to use that room for the window. It has the perfect vantage into the driveway." Shawn said "I'm sure it's not the master bedroom, that floorplan isn't very common."

We were full of anticipation as we mounted the front stairs and rang the doorbell. When the door opened and I stepped inside, a phenomenal amount of "deja vu" overwhelmed me. I started to tear up. I followed the home owner up the stairs toward the master bedroom. Each step caused my excitement to rise. She opened the master bedroom door and I nearly fell over in surprise. The room was exactly as I'd mentally seen it when I described it for the script. The window overlooking the driveway indeed was in the master bedroom! Everything about it was perfect and was exactly what I'd seen right down to the decor! I was in complete awe of the literal vision I had seen of the home. I loved the realization of having had a literal vision of the home. I was so grateful to have experienced such an amazing miracle. I couldn't help but feel my good friend who had died there several years prior was helping me with the movie. Also at that time I was inspired to make the movie in her remembrance.

Day 7:

Monday, May 16, 2011

The clouds gathered in the sky and the wind increasingly picked up, threatening a storm. We prayed it would wait until after the opening scene with the Porsche. Shawn picked up the car and and brought it to set. It became quite a popular prop as many of us were photographed next to or inside of it!

I offered the thought this morning after the cast and crew prayer. I shared of the experience I had yesterday and how I know that many are working on the project not only here in body, but also by those in spirit. I've felt the influence and support of angels and ancestors on set every day. The inspiration received by cast and crew alike, and the ongoing help from beyond, has kept us engaged in the literal Uphill Battle.

Shooting the pre-divorce scenes was intense. We prayed over every scene and how to accurately portray the heartache of infidelity and addiction. One scene called for a display of anger that led to violence. The rehearsed violence was in one lead character grabbing the other by the wrist. By about the 4th take, the scene had escalated in intensity with each time. Instead of grabbing her wrist and pulling her to her feet as had been done in prior takes, he grabbed her hair without even thinking, just being in the spirit of the scene. It was intense and very real. When I called "Cut!" the first thing I heard was Shelby yelling "Unrehearsed! Unrehearsed!" as she clutched at the side of her head where clumps of hair were falling between her fingers. Everyone rushed in to see if she was okay and the other lead character fell all over her with apologies. He hadn't intended to grab her in such a way and was really sorry. The three of us had our own prayer for the scene right before we shot it, to be as true and realistic as possible. I know that prayer was answered.

One of the lead characters was catching a plane to LA at 8:00 PM and needed to be wrapped for the day by 6:00. We wrapped at 5:30! We were scheduled to use a local bike shop for scenes from 6:00-10:00, however, when we arrived, we discovered that our contact at the shop had gone home early due to an emergency and there were no arrangements made to have employees stay to keep the shop open. Disappointing, but I don't believe in accidents. We were able to reschedule the bike shop for Thursday night. Wrapping early let everyone catch up on much needed family life and sleep!

Day 8:

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

The rain, which gratefully and respectfully held off yesterday while we used a borrowed convertible Porsche with a broken top, poured with a fury all day today. The rain even turned to snow mid-afternoon! Miraculously, all our scenes were indoors. Even better, was the fact that we shot Erica's bedroom scenes in my home, in Aura's bedroom. Michael's bedroom was also shot in my home, in the master bedroom. This allowed me to be close to my little children whom I've only gotten to see briefly, late at night and in lots of pics and texts from Shawn for the past week, and whom I have missed dearly.

Shelby's truck wouldn't start this morning. She needed a jumpstart and to let it run for awhile when she first arrived on set. We scheduled Nathan's scenes and Shelby was given the day off. Out of the kindness of her heart, she stayed anyway and read lines with Nathan.

Because of the tremendous downpour of rain and snow, all the outdoor driveway and yard scenes of Michael as a landscaper, which was scripted as his profession along with photographer, were scrapped. The decision was made to eliminate "landscaper/photographer" and have Michael just be a photographer. His outdoor scenes were changed to indoor with the profession change. It turned out to perfectly suit the Michael character better!

During one of the first scenes of the day, Michael's office scene, as I looked into the monitor, watching the action, I was inspired suddenly with the scripture on which the next movie will be based. A very strong impression of Isaiah 1:18 "though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool" entered my mind during the scene. In between takes, I turned to Taylor, who was standing next to me to share the inspiration. The next take resumed and I found myself doubting the impression. I thought over the scripture and decided it was too overt a message. After I called "Cut!" I again turned to Taylor and told him that perhaps it was too overt a message and that I wasn't sure I'd use it. The take resumed again. This time, the prompting returned more powerfully. Again I heard the words of Isaiah 1:18 powerfully in my mind. When the take was over, I told Taylor that Isaiah 1:18 was the scripture the Lord wanted as the message of the next movie.

Later that afternoon several miracles took place. We finished with all the Michael scenes earlier than expected and had time to move downstairs to Erica's scenes. Shelby was already on set despite her day off, so we were able to transition seamlessly to her scenes, though they were previously unscheduled. The inspiration of Isaiah 1:18 was miraculously underscored in an experience I had directing one of Shelby's scenes. In the scene, Erica was to question God about what He wanted her to do, pick up her scriptures, hold them out and drop them on the bed. There were to fall open to Proverbs 3:5 which she would read as the answer to her question. As we rehearsed the scene, Shelby asked me to show her what my vision for how the action was to play out. I picked up the scriptures, closed my eyes and plopped the scriptures out in front of me. They fell open to Isaiah 1:18! I had shared with Shelby the inspiration about the scripture at lunch, so we both gasped in awe as we saw where the scriptures opened to in the drop! We looked at each other, amazed, and laughed with delight!

Once we were ready to shoot the scene, a reverent and peaceful calm canvassed the room. The presence of the Spirit was strong as Shelby performed the action of the scene. She closed her eyes, held out the scriptures and dropped them before her on the bed just as we'd planned. They fell open to Proverbs 3:5, the very place they were "supposed" to!

Day 9:

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Cold and raining again today. We were able to get a good start on the Erica scenes yesterday afternoon. Because we could technically finish with Erica's scenes early, I started seeking out a location for the Sunday school scene since the scheduled location fell through. It was surely a miracle that I was able to find a location willing to get us in later in the afternoon during a brief window of time the church had between activities. I solidified our reservation and then prayed we could make it.

We started out the day with our cast and crew prayer and thought. Tara, our very talented make-up artist, offered the thought. She shared a beautiful metaphor that she had realized on her drive to set. She had been feeling off about some problems in her life and was tempted to feel discouraged. Just as the dark gloom of sadness threatened to block her joy, the same as the dark storm clouds had been darkening the sky, a strong beam of light broke through the clouds, revealing the sun. In that moment, she realized that though the cold feeling of disappointment and pain had crowded her life like the storm clouds covering the sky, the sun had never left. It remained constant behind the clouds and it broke through bringing a brilliant radiance and warmth with it. I was very touched to hear her observation and grateful for that thought, especially since there were problems on set this morning. There had been some tension between several crew members that disrupted the unity on set and a subsequent coldness followed. This beautifully shared, and definitely inspired thought, cleared the way for the bright sun of unity and friendship to burn through the storm clouds of discontent that had been present. We needed that unifying and healing thought to make it through the otherwise hectic day.

The time allotted for the Sunday school scene meant that we would leave Erica's bedroom scenes mid-day to get to our appointed location. We decided that it was to make only a partial company move to maintain continuity in filming Erica's bedroom scenes. Only a few lights were to be transported and the dolly and track would stay assembled in Erica's bedroom awaiting our return. We prayed we would be able to get the shots we needed with minimal equipment.

The first scene we shot in the church location was the recovery group for a montage sequence. Since we had no dolly, Rod asked Taylor to scout out the building for some kind of cart on which to wheel the camera. Taylor returned with a rubbermaid garbage cart from the church kitchen that worked beautifully. We were glad he found a cart, as we had considered part jokingly, that we could use a piano in the room as a dolly!

The recovery group scene, though a silent montage, was beautiful. Nathan shared a heartfelt testimony with the group of men who assembled in the circle. The extras for the recovery group circle was comprised of all the men on the crew. I was very grateful that they agreed to sit in front of the camera, especially on such short notice. I think my crews are learning that they will be actors at some point in the movie every time!

Scaled down equipment and a time dealine for use of the location were not our only concerns. Because of the short notice of same day scheduling of the location, there had been no previous scheduling of extras for the scene. We were in need of 6-8 teens to fill the Sunday school class. I had Aura begin calling and texting her friends the moment school let out at 2:45 PM. We were to be at the location from 3:30-5:00 PM. I also began calling Christian, who was at school and who was to play Jake, the long haired boy in Sunday school. Aura had some success in making contact with a couple of friends. Taylor also got on the phone trying to enlist the help of his cousins who lived nearby. I got a hold of Christian, who was with several friends. He asked them to come take part in the movie, to which they scornfully denied his request and told him what a "loser" he was for being in it. He no longer wanted to be in it. I begged him to get to the church and prayed he would come.

When he arrived, there were still no other teens in attendance for the scene. He was skeptical, doubtful, and upset that I wanted him to play the part. He adamantly stated that he just did not want to do it. He kept saying that nobody was even going to come and that we couldn't shoot it anyway. With no time to re-cast the part, nor the spiritual confirmation that I needed to, I silently retreated to a desserted corner for a fervent prayer. My mother, Frances, arrived to play her part as the Sunday school teacher. She suggested we call my sister to see if her daughter Kya, Christian's close friend and cousin, could come. It just so happened that Kya was riding with three friends just a few blocks away. She asked if they wanted to be a part of a movie and they did. They showed up, along with several of Aura's friends and Taylor's cousin, for a total of 10 teens in under an hour of searching and literally 10 minutes before we filmed the scene! This miracle, along with Kya's encouragement, changed Christian's mind about the part and he agreed to do it!

We were able to finish at the church right on time and get back to my house and shoot out the rest of the scenes in Erica's bedroom. While watching the monitor in the closet of the bedroom on the final scene of the day, a sudden and powerful impression came to me that Shelby was to play a teen pregnancy counselor in the next movie. I was overwhelmed with the feeling of truth and tears came to my eyes as I felt the Spirit. I told Shelby about her part as soon as I called "Cut!" She too felt the same spiritual confirmation.

Upon completion of the scene, we were ready for a company move. Everything was loaded up in anticipation of the move for tomorrow's shoot at the bike shop. Because we don't have access to the bike shop until closing, we will have the day to rest. We'll need it. Tomorrow's shoot is an overnighter, scheduled from 6:00 PM to 6:00 AM because our locations are businesses that keep regular business hours.

A Life of Capability Celebrated and Remembered

Last fall, a friend stopped by and brought me a fridge magnet that she said caught her attention and made her think of me. In bold white letters on a black background is the quote:

"A human being should be able to change a diaper, plan an invasion, butcher a hog, steer a ship, design a building, write a sonnet, balance accounts, build a wall, set a bone, comfort the dying, take orders, give orders, cooperate, act alone, solve equations, analyze a new project, pitch manure, program a computer, cook a tasty meal, fight efficiently, die gallantly." -- Robert Heinlein.

The friend who gave me this great fridge magnet was complimenting my capability. I was humbled and honored, and I immediately thought of a role model who exhibited capabilities and capacities far beyond my own, in whom I look to as a mentor and guide.

My maternal grandmother, Karen Louise Rasmussen Lundell Steele was the epitome of capability. She was 5 ft. 1 inches of pure power. Though in the physical sense, most every family member over the age of ten towered over her, in the spiritual sense, she was boundless. Day in and day out, she rose at 4:00 AM to greet the morning with a five mile power walk. Walking her pace made the blood pool in my fingers, as I had to swing my arms too hard to keep the pace. I went with her a few times and practically jogged to keep up.

Her day flowed from one activity to the next. She accomplished more by 9:00 AM than most people achieve in a 24 hour period. I watched in awe as she scrubbed dishes, walls and baseboards, vacuumed, made telephone calls, fixed meals to take to sick friends and neighbors, weeded her yard, planned a primary lesson, organized a closet, finished a quilt, and prepared to leave to run errands. Did I mention she could do all that by 9:00 AM?! She could never sit still. Even in her down time, which consisted of watching the 10:00 PM news while brushing her teeth and writing in her journal, she was exquisitely productive. She hit her pillow each night exhausted from the thrill of hard work and real living and rose again with the same renewed and tireless vigor she carried throughout her life.

An afternoon in her presence was inspiring. She filled volumes and volumes of journals, left a legacy of six children, twenty seven grandchildren, and who knows how many great grandchildren. Well, she did. She had every one of them scheduled into her calendar and each received a birthday card, religiously. Each grandchild received a handmade quilt upon their high school graduation. Each new grandbaby and great grandbaby received a handmade quilt. Every Christmas and Easter she put on the biggest parties imaginable in her small and welcoming house. These events could be counted on as surely as the sun rising each day. She was faithful and consistent in every aspect of her life. Nothing got in her way, nothing held her back, not even cancer, and only death itself could stop her.

She was all a grandma should be, fun loving, creative, family focused, full of faith and love. She loved the Lord and used her considerable and varied talents, skills, gifts and abilities to serve others. The capability at which she could perform these skills was superhuman in life, and perfect in death. I feel her presence often and know that she is assisting and intervening in my behalf and especially in important family matters. Her influence is now completely unstoppable and eternal and the impact she has is just as broad.

Happy Birthday, Grandma! I love you and miss you and look forward to seeing you again!

Choosing Faith

A few weeks ago I visited a specialist about my left shoulder, the one that was broken in a cycling/auto accident in May. There has been pain in it ever since and my range of motion is limited. Over the months, I became aware of the fact that my clavicle on the left side was lopsided and sticking straight up into the air. What the specialist told me, that I had not even considered, was that it was not my clavicle sticking up, but my whole shoulder and arm drooping down. Apparently my ligaments were shorn through in the accident and my shoulder is no longer suspended at the attachment point on my clavicle. The only way to correct it, facilitate healing, and end the pain, is surgery.

I can't describe how much I hated hearing that. I gasped in shock as the specialist explained the problem and solution. The healing time after the surgery is six weeks of wearing a sling. I immediately thought of all that I would miss out on in wearing a sling for six weeks, activities like carrying the baby, holding my other children, cycling, snowboarding, and the small day to day things like dressing myself. The decision essentially came down to suffering along in my current condition, making do as I have been, or choosing the temporary pain and setback of surgery and the healing time associated with it in order to properly heal my shoulder.

I left the office heavily contemplating the choice. Of course it is obvious that total healing is the most desirable, but it is always hard to voluntarily give up freedom, even temporarily. By the time I got home, I decided to schedule my surgery for the dead of winter. The baby turns one year old on January 20 and hopefully will be walking. I can ride a stationary bike indoors from the end of January through March when I can start outside again. Hopefully I can get a few good snowboarding days in before the end of January as well. Shawn even suggested we take our bikes out to Red Rocks, NV to ride the weekend before the surgery.

Like all of life's experiences both good and bad, I immediately started looking for the symbolic meaning and spiritual lesson. I know that life is first spiritual, then temporal, so unraveling the temporal experience for the spiritual meaning is one of my favorite pasttimes. The thought that came to mind was the proverb Christ used in Luke 4:23, Physician, heal thyself.

I've spent some time pondering that statement and reading talks and articles discussing the many meanings and applications of that simple phrase. My mind settled on a visual image of a tangled mess I recently spent hours sorting out.

Let me preface the reason for sorting the tangle. Despite my aversion to handicrafts due to my sheer incompetence with making things with my hands, I agreed to join in a preschool activity exchange. Each participant was to make 23 identical lessons to exchange with the rest of the group. One of the activities I made was incredibly simple for those who are capable with their hands. For me, it was a nightmare. I had to shop for the craft materials and assemble "fishing poles" made of bamboo sticks, yarn, and magnets. Easy enough, right? Wrong. I procrastinated and dragged my feet at every stage of the making. Finally after several weeks of cajoling from the rest of the group, who rightfully needed the lesson I had not finished, I forced myself to take it on.

After assembling and gluing my fishing poles in place, I left them in the corner of the room to dry. Relief was sweet when I finished this project, so sweet that I forgot all about the fishing poles for a few hours. When I went to put them in their respective activity bags, what I found nearly sent me into a frenzied rage, and a whirlwind of tears all at the same time.

Yes, this was the nastiest yarn tangle I've ever seen in my life--worse than any failed yo-yo, cat's in the cradle, or knitting attempt combined. The reason it was worse was because of the magnets that all stuck to each other all throughout the tangle. My two and three year old children had a better time doing this than I think they'll ever have doing the actual preschool fishing activity.

It took me a few minutes and a few prayers to regain my composure. I was at that place, the one I recognized again at the doctor's office a few weeks later, the place I had to decide what to do. I could throw them away and start the process all over, try to cut the yarn and reattach it, or do my best to untangle it.

I forced a deep sigh to clear the negativity from my mind and sat down on my bed with my little ball of useless fishing poles. Shawn looked up from his book, gawking with morbid interest. "Why don't you just throw it away? It's too messed up," he said. "I put some serious effort into creating those poles, no way I'm just going to toss them. They are worth salvaging, to me. I'm gonna fix it," I said. Then he sighed the "whatever" sigh and shook his head.

Where to start? The line on each pole was 2 feet long and there seemed to be only an inch of wiggle room left on each fishing pole. The rest of the line was caught up in the tangle. All the magnets hugged tightly to each other, making any sorting difficult. It was close to midnight and the kids were in bed. Concentration at this level would have been nearly impossible otherwise. Determination took hold and I set about picking and pulling at numerous little knots.

An hour later Shawn said, "It almost looks like you're doing some weird Chinese puzzle." He was fascinated with the intensity on my face and the clicking of the sticks as the yarn bobbed over and under my hands. It must have been mesmerizing, because he was asleep and snoring long before the first pole came out from the tangle.

Once that first pole was freed, my determination doubled. My faith in the possibility it could be fixed doubled as well. My mind turned over the many applications of this experience. I remember thinking that I'd recall this visual whenever I was in a seemingly impossible, difficult, or hopeless situation and gain courage, faith and perspective from it. Several hours passed as my eyes became heavier. Progress was slow. I thought of my many ancestors who were better at handicrafts than I and prayed for their help. Finally another pole emerged, then another. Three hours from taking on this task, it was finally complete.
I couldn't help but feel at the time I finished that the experience was metaphorical to one or more upcoming trials or experiences I'd face. Whether my surgery is one, or any other number of problems in my life or the lives of my family, I have the faith that full recovery and an overall joyous resolution can be achieved. Faith, patience, and dogged persistence do a lot in creating positive results.

Now these stick and yarn fishing poles hold a special place in my heart. I learned an amazing lesson from them. Here's to surgery! :)

The Power of Creativity + a Plan = Amazing Results

Every amazing event, pursuit, action or result I have ever witnessed or experienced was the natural result of a masterful plan. Life itself is God's greatest plan, specifically designed for the ultimate happiness, growth and eternal progression of each His children.

I am so inspired when I witness the creative power to impact eternity, carried out through a purposeful plan. Nothing inspires me like the creative process, and the result such creativity brings. The purposeful design and beauty of everything from the universe, to nature, to animals and people and their raw potential for greatness, stir within me an unparalleled rapture and awe as I recognize the hand of the Creator in all. It is difficult for me not to feel moved to the point of tears as I walk through a crowd of people . I am touched at the beauty and diversity of the size, shape and color of each individual. God's artistic expression is evident in the face and physique of each person. We are each, basically, a purposeful, planned, and unique work of art. My heart also swells when I view beauty in the handmade works of man, knowing that these works too are a gift from God.

As we are each patterned after God's image in both form and function, we too are creators. Creativity is our birthright. Creative expression comes as naturally and deeply to each soul as the experience of emotion. This life offers each of us ample opportunity to discover or role as creators, insight into our individual gifts of creative expression, and a boundless canvas to impact our surroundings. All that is needed to bridge the gap from potential possibilities, to completion, is purposeful action taken on a plan. A plan is the tool to enact and unleash creativity from its potential state and bring it to a state of completion; the result.

Since creativity can be used for good, or evil, according to the will and application of the creator, intention and motive are critical. I have often pondered such results as the Holocaust, and the purposeful actions of terrorism, genocide, and abortion and traced the results back to the origin of thought, which is always the first step in the creative process. Thought always precedes action. When the thought is dark, wicked, corrupt and vile, the result created will always be as well.

The power to create good or evil is given to each of us. The creative power is meant to be used with wisdom, discernment, and an eagerness to please God. When our creative intention is anything other than the desire to please and glorify God, especially, when it is self-serving, it is subject to all manner of corruption. Enlightenment or entrapment directly result from the correct or incorrect application of creative expression.

With boundless potential to impact eternity, and the gift of creativity to do it, we are each prepared to complete God's will and build His kingdom. I am especially excited when youth recognize their creative capacity and engage in such a process. I got to witness such an action, on a grand scale, even, this summer.

One Thursday morning, July 15, to be exact, I watched as two teens created a plan that impacted their lives, my life, and the lives of the rest of my family. Aunts, uncles, cousins and friends also joined in the fun. They essentially impacted eternity for good. The result was such a memorable and enjoyable month, that none of us will ever forget it. The planning session took three concentrated hours that consisted of making a list of fun activities and experiences they wanted to do. Once their list was complete, they systematically fit the activity list into specified days and times on a calendar. Because the plan was so well thought out and incredibly fun, the whole family got behind it and greatly benefitted from it.

Planning session.

The calendar:



Highlights:

Rope swing at Burston Ponds.

Water fight.

Horsey rides.

Dirtbiking.

Zip line and Alpine Slide at Snowbird.

Jet Skiing and boating at Jordanelle Reservoir.

Hiking, backpacking and camping in the Uintah's.

Taking pics at Temple Square.

I love it when today's youth exhibit so much faith, vision, creativity, attention to detail, unity, cooperation and purposeful application. It inspires me, and reassures me that the leadership of tomorrow rests with the wise and the capable. The upcoming generation is powerful, good, strong, intelligent and fun. We were blessed enough to get to experience a preview of their power this summer. I can't wait to see this generation serve missions, pursue an education, assume leadership positions, rear children, and impact the world for good. It won't be long before they set out to work. They are creating their plans now...

Ulcer Century Ride

It's strange and exciting how "chance" encounters change or introduce new ideas that expand the vision, even the possibilities of the course of one's life. Friday morning as I was nearing the end of my ride, I experienced one such encounter. I was only a half a mile from home and stopped at a red light waiting to make a left turn. A white car pulled up next to me also turning left. The window rolled down and the driver, a middle aged man, yelled something to me. I turned down my ipod and asked him to repeat himself as I didn't hear.

He asked if I was doing the century ride the next day and told me that he had just registered for it. I told him that I hadn't heard about it. I asked him where it was and how long it takes him to complete it. He told me that it was 110 miles around Utah Lake and said he hadn't done it before as he was new to cycling. I wished him luck as the light turned green.

Prior to that moment, I had not thought of doing such a ride, but by the time I got home two minutes later, I could see myself completing it. Shawn was out front as I pulled in the driveway and I told him all about it. He pulled out his iphone and within seconds, had all the details of the century ride. That was it. I was committed. Shawn was too. I never would have thought I would enter such a ride. Something of that nature had never appealed to me before. Thinking back to the twenty five mile ride Shawn coaxed me into doing in April; I smiled at how much trepidation I had about it, wondering if I could finish it, and how much I've improved since then. Now that my daily rides are at least twenty five miles, a one hundred and ten mile ride seemed totally possible.

The day before, I told Shawn that I eventually wanted to get a new bike with more gears and better performance capacity. As I've now put almost 3000 miles on my beginner "Specialized Dolce," I have topped out its performance ability. For a higher level of progression, I'd need to start out on the low end of a better bike. On Friday afternoon, Shawn asked me to go for a drive with him to run some errands. We went to the bike shop and he had me try out a couple of professional womens' bicycles for fun. After I'd tried a few, and as we were leaving the shop, he said "So what do you think? Do you want to get it?" He was referring to the beautiful red and white "Specialized Amira" I tried last, the women's version of the bike that just won "Tour de France."

Despite my protests, and needless to say, he was all too excited to buy it for me. He was beaming as much as I was as we lifted it into the back of the truck. I was as giddy as a kid on Christmas. Shawn insisted I run and grab my cycling shoes and give it a try as soon as we got home.

Saturday morning, Shawn and I entered the "Ulcer Century Ride" together. The course started at Thanksgiving Point in Lehi, UT and generally followed Utah Lake down through Provo, Springville, Spanish Fork, Lake Shore, Benjamin and to the furthest reaches of Utah county in Goshen. I was ashamed to say that I grew up in Payson, and had never been around the backside of West Mountain to Goshen, Genola or Elberta.

2100 riders culminated at the start and were released in groups of 100 riders every ten minutes from 6:30 AM. Our start time was 7:30 AM. It is always thrilling to gather with such a large group of others who are united in the same positive purpose, whether it be cycling, pursuing an education, or communing with God in a worship service.

Within the first fifteen miles, the pack thinned out as the ability and experience of each rider advanced, or slowed them in contrast to the other riders. The first food/water stop was at the twenty five mile mark. We refilled our water bottles, loaded our jersey pockets with snacks, and had the best tasting peanut butter and jelly sandwich I've ever eaten. There were many riders at the first stop and a general feeling of excitement was present.

Fifteen miles later, the mid morning sun was blazing pretty hard by our next water stop. We stopped at the fringe of Palmyra and Lake Shore to again refill our water bottles. Shawn took off his helmet and doused his head with water, at the same time devouring a cup of ice. By this time, we'd seen a lot of dismounted bicycles as flat tires and other minor accidents forced riders off the road. We too had a ten minute delay earlier on, as Shawn got a flat tire in the East Bay area of Provo.

A strong south wind started picking up as we headed for our lunch destination at the fifty mile mark at Lincoln Beach in Lake Shore. As we were traveling south for a bit, we got to push into some strongish head winds, watching our average speed drop from 20-22 mph to 14-15 mph. By this time we'd seen mountains, farmland, swamps, and were again coming alongside the lake. We stopped at the top of the hill overlooking Lincoln Beach and took these pics.


It was here that I discovered my phone was no longer working. I could hear it ringing, and dinging signifying new calls and texts, but the screen was blacked out. Shawn said it was a sign that I needed to get an iphone like his and Aura's and Christian's. I love my blackberry though, and wasn't trying to kill it, but I think it received too much moisture from riding against by back for fifty miles.

The number of other riders who culminated at the lunch spot, when we were there, had reduced by half or more since the first stop. There were many riders with their shoes off, sprawled on the grass under shaded pavilions. Talk of fatigue, sore muscles, and an appreciation for a plate of pasta marinara seemed to be the conversation I heard the most. I also started to hear some negative and gloomy conjectures as many realized that they were not, technically, yet to the halfway point of the 110 mile ride. Shawn suggested we keep our stop brief before our muscles cooled and stiffness set in. We rolled out again within twenty minutes again fueled, water refilled, and our pockets full of snacks.

The next five miles, as we rounded the lake, were rather enjoyable. We laughed and marveled at the beauty of the lake, sky, and mountains. We played and took pics of each other with Shawn's iphone as we rode. This playfulness and the positivity it produced, was just what we needed to rely on, as the level of difficulty suddenly and unexpectedly increased on the backside of West Mountain.

Dark and brooding clouds rolled in accompanied by strong gusts of wind. Gusts of 60+ mph pounded us, threatening to tip our bikes. Many riders were dismounted and sitting, or walking their bicycles. Our average speed dropped to 7-9 mph over a 12 mile section of the ride through Goshen and Genola. I don't mind pushing into headwinds, but the crosswinds are the most dreaded and dangerous. It appeared that all the riders were tilted several degrees as the winds bent the straight line trajectory we tried to maintain. I watched as riders all around me opted out of the ride, instead choosing to rack their bikes on a support truck and climb in back to be shuttled back to the start. I too mentally explored the possibility of quitting, before grasping the hope of the realization that if I could keep pushing on through the crosswinds, I'd eventually meet up with Highway 68 and turn north. At that juncture, those strong south and brutal winds would be beneficial to me as they would then be at my back. I bent lower on the handle bars and committed myself to reach Highway 68.

My mantra became 68, 68, 68, as I tried to apply some sort of cadence to it to keep turning the pedals. Headphones weren't allowed as per the rules of the ride and it was there I realized how important music really is as a tool of motivation and a source of strength, as it can be such a connection to the Divine. I sang to myself as it was my only option. The winds continued to increase and our forward progress dropped again markedly as our average speed dropped to 5 mph. I found myself thinking about my Hugenot, Pilgrim, and Pioneer ancestry and the difficulties they faced and how my little ride was so miniscule in comparison. I also thought of the Tour de France, that consists of 21 back to back days of 110 mile rides and how it is a competitive race where every moment demands top performance. Surely I could finish this one little ride.

With three miles to the next food/water stop at the 70 mile mark, we passed a gas station in Genola where a family sat in lawn chairs out front. They did the wave as we passed and cheered loudly for us. I thanked them as we passed as their encouragement really helped me keep going. We were so excited to see that the food/water stop we reached was located at the corner of the intersection marking Highway 68!

By this time, we had burned over 4500 calories and were so grateful to refuel and start heading north. Again, we alotted twenty minutes at the stop and returned to the road. Just as we expected, the fierce wind at our backs propelled our average speed to 25-30 mph. For a stretch of twenty miles, it felt as though we were flying.
We started to notice that many single riders had their own "support vehicles" as cars full of family and friends sidled up next to them offering encouragement, food, or water. I thought of how crucial and beneficial real life support is to any and every person, whether it comes from loved ones in this mortal sphere or from the spirit world beyond. I also felt grateful to be riding along side Shawn, undertaking the challenge together.

With every revolution of the pedals, my gratitude for health, vitality and physical capacity, and for the opportunity to ride, surged through me. Several times the mental clarity I achieved, coupled with strong physical exertion, produced the sensation of chills over my entire body. I love that feeling. I especially love the tingling in my face and particularly my lips, after I have been sprinting up a hill in an anaerobic push to the top. When I again return to my seat and my regular breathing pattern, a rush of oxygen flows back into my face causing a sublime, even spiritual catharsis.

My mind rolled over many truths I've often pondered while riding. I thought of the power of attitude. When I am faced with strong winds, steep hills, or cold or daunting weather while riding, I smile. Months ago, it occurred to me that I had the power to influence all I publicly encountered from other cyclists, and passersby, to the motorists alongside me. I could create a positive or negative feeling associated with cycling in the minds of those people through the expressions and demeanor I chose. I consciously decided to wear a smile. Granted, sometimes it is broad and toothy, and sometimes faint and demure, but always a smile. I've swallowed a few bugs on those broad and toothy days, but it was worth it, I think. I would hate to discourage someone from taking up such an enjoyable and challenging pursuit by making it look miserable. This is also how I choose to do life. I want my love of it and my gratitude for it, to be easily recognizable and contagious.

By the time we reached the final water stop and ten miles to the finish, just a handful of other cyclists were present. It was blustery and dark clouds threatened rain. We took ten minutes to snack and collect ourselves mentally for the final push to the finish. That final stretch seemed the longest. It was there I experienced a real appreciation for endurance and what it means. I thought of all the elderly people I know and how the storms of life have crushed down on them over the duration of their years. The measure of endurance they have achieved through life's difficulties is commendable. I too hope to emulate the positivity and strength so many family members, friends, and mentors both young and old, have shown me by the example of their lives.

Six hours and forty two minutes and 6500 calories burned since the start, we crossed the finish line. We kept riding until we reached the awaiting pasta buffet. Fettucini Alfredo and bread sticks never tasted so good. I was glad to have arrived, but saddened that the number of riders finishing had decreased so much since the start. I was again reminded and convicted of the work I have to do to continue educating, inspiring and uniting my family. It is my greatest desire to achieve this purpose; to endure out the difficulties of life, to finish strong, and together.

I think I will do another century ride. It was enjoyable and worth it. Perhaps I am training for something bigger, a cross country ride some years in the future...

Battle for Souls

While writing Stand Strong, I kept receiving inspiration for themes, scenes, and songs, that had absolutely no place in the movie. It finally occurred to me as I cut scene after scene of unrelated material, that I was receiving inspiration about another film entirely. I filed these impressions away, adding to them from time to time.

The ideas that came all generated around the central theme of the literal battle for souls. Life is a battle between good and evil, from moment to moment, and in every choice, decision, experience and action. From scripture, we know that a great war in heaven ensued, and that Satan and his angels were cast out, down to earth, where the battle has been raging ever since.

Revelation 12:7-9

7 And there was war in heaven: Michael and his angels fought against the dragon; and the dragon fought and his angels,
8 And prevailed not; neither was their place found any more in heaven.
9 And the great dragon was cast out, that old serpent, called the Devil, and Satan, which deceiveth the whole world: he was cast out into the earth, and his angels were cast out with him.

In March, after much prayer on the story line for the movie, I was inspired with a rough outline of the plot. "Battle for Souls" was to be about a single mother, divorced due to the infidelity and subsequent abandonment by her husband because of a pornography addiction. Just after receiving this inspiration, I read an article from a church magazine that told the true story of a woman in an identical situation. The profession I had chosen for the character to have to support her family was even the same for the real woman in the article. I again received a spiritual confirmation that this was the story line that needed to be told to communicate the message.

Since that time, inspiration has come in bits and pieces, as mental visuals, images, words, and feelings have flooded my mind on many occasions. Some nights I have not been able to sleep as inspiration poured in rapidly and seemingly without end. Other times, inspiration was not forthcoming at all, and I waited through long periods, wondering and praying I'd be able to put it all together in time.

What I learned from Stand Strong and from numerous other projects, experiences, and life, is that faith is everything.

In the last month, I have experienced my own temporal battle for souls, in that my life has been literally spared on at least five occasions of which I am aware. I have had so many near calamities lately, and through no "fault" of my own, that I have started to wonder if I am experiencing lessons designed by God to teach me, or if the devil is trying to physically destroy me. I feel it is a little of both, along with the reminder that there is no need to fear, but to continue with faith, knowing that I won't regret pushing forward until my time is done. What I do certainly have, is a testimony of guardian angels for protection and in an appointed time to die. The fact that I am alive and able signifies to me that I am not done yet.

Ephesians 6:11-13
11 Put on the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil.

12 For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.

13 Wherefore take unto you the whole armour of God, that ye may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand.

The battle for souls is both spiritual and temporal, and the only saving armor is the full armor of God. This reminder and illustration is the purpose of the "Battle for Souls" movie.

Like "Stand Strong," "Battle for Souls" is a volunteer project comprised of Christians of all faiths united in Christ. All participants consecrate their skills, gifts, talents and abilities to glorify the Lord and to lead people to Him through the medium of film.

"Battle for Souls" will shoot August 2-14, with the exclusion of Sunday the 8th. The next week will be devoted to pick up shots for "Battle for Souls" and "Stand Strong." "Stand Strong" will premiere later this fall, and "Battle For Souls" will premiere next spring. At least, those are the target dates. We have learned that everything is ultimately on God's own timeline.

Keep the project in your prayers!

The Journey of a Thousand Miles

I've always liked the saying "The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step." It's true. It's also true that the journey of a thousand miles by bicycle begins with a single revolution of the pedals. :) I recently experienced the joy of having ridden my first thousand miles on my new bicycle. As of Friday, June 11, 2010, my total mileage, since purchasing a bike on March 11, 2010 was 1,097.48. My weekly rides are now at 151.2 miles, so the next thousand miles should occur in half the time or less.

I am a sucker for stats. Results don't lie. I keep detailed stats on days I ride, mileage, routes, calories burned, total weight loss, etc. Shawn got me a handy little tool for that as well. I love my Garmin bike computer and all the detailed info it captures. I have now lost 30 lbs. over the last three months and met the halfway mark to my overall goal of losing 60 lbs. in six months. This reminds me how much I am looking forward to September; my goal deadline, our family trip to Hawaii, and re-inhabitance of the body I have missed through years of many back to back pregnancies.

Even better than the tangible rewards of health and fitness a thousand miles has offered, are the subtle changes in my mind and spirit since beginning the journey. While riding a couple of days ago, pushing uphill in strong wind, I realized how much I enjoyed it. I loved it even more than the downhill descent on the other side. I remember back to when I only summited a hill to have the downhill experience. Now, I choose the hills for the burn, exhilaration, and challenge of the hill; especially the strength it offers. I often find myself sprinting the ascent, standing up on the pedals, for added challenge. The downhill is just a brief rest from the burn, not the goal or the motivation.

My observation and awareness have increased. I've been rewarded with some beautiful and poignant moments through becoming more in tune with my surroundings. A few weeks ago, as I cycled past a cemetery, I became aware of an older gentleman kneeling on one knee, arms full of roses, leaning over the headstone of a loved one. He was completely unaware of me, swallowed up in grief. As our proximity narrowed, his whole upper body crumpled over, his frame hunched and sobbing. In that moment, as his heart broke and wept, mine did too. I sobbed and prayed for him and his loss for the next mile or two.

A couple of days ago, I passed twin girls who looked to be about eight or nine years old. They were walking on the sidewalk, backpacks on their backs. I remember thinking how sad it was that they looked to be in year round school on such a beautiful summer morning. They took their backpacks off and dropped them at their feet. In a face to face stance in the middle of the sidewalk, they bowed their heads, closed their eyes, and folded their arms, in an obvious prayer together. The moment was sublime. Though I do not know who they were or the reason for their prayer, I was touched to have witnessed it.

Recently it occurred to me that an hour and forty minutes a day on a bicycle, was the perfect time to listen to scripture; to make the best use of that meditation time. The good music I was previously listening to was just that, good, but a deeper appreciation for scripture and the inspiration provided by studying it, would be the best. Much inspiration has followed because of that decision to change and more focus my use of time. I can feel my spiritual strength increasing the same way my physical body has increased in strength.

Yesterday, I experienced an intense love for the beauty of the earth as I cycled through a rain shower. The sweet and pungent smell of wet earth, and the sensation of warm wind and cold rain, heightened my appreciation of the moment and put a huge smile on my face.

Cycling is a tool God is using to sharpen, deepen, and refine my purpose and commitment. I am a more devoted, useful, instrument in His hands because of it. My desire to serve, apply knowledge, live truth, and become more like Him continue to increase as well. I am daily reminded that mortality is brief, that every second counts, and that though life is meant to be enjoyable, it is also to be lived purposefully. I have much work to do before I sleep. I am reminded of the message of Robert Frost's timeless poem:

Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening
by Robert Frost

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there's some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

Vision of Zion

In the summer of 2006, our family took a 27 state, 5 week, 8,015 mile journey across America. It was incredible; definitely an unforgettable family favorite. One of the stops we made was to visit the Kirtland Temple in Ohio. We also visited the Newell K. Whitney store, which was the location for many key revelations received by Joseph Smith, including the Word of Wisdom. The room above the store also became the place used as the training grounds for the first four prophets of the LDS church in what was known as the "School of the Prophets."

Standing in the "School of the Prophets" was overwhelmingly powerful for me. I was hit with inspiration so deeply and strongly, I could not ignore it. I knew I needed to start a "school" with the same attributes. The "School of the Prophets" was designed to teach world history, languages, upper mathematics, world cultures, ancient history, the wars and perplexities of the nations, manners and civility, and an in depth study of theology and religion as all subjects were taught through a gospel perspective, with Christ at the center of all truth.

The undeniable witness I felt was that this type of school was needed, not only for my children and those that would come to the classes, but to serve as an example of what is possible for others to replicate. Parents everywhere could make their own "schools," completely privatized, unfunded by government dollars, uncontrolled by compulsory laws, voluntary, staffed by educated, skillful, passionate, and God fearing instructors in an environment where God is welcome and invited rather than prohibited and shunned. The classes would be inexpensive and yet, superior to the government schools run by tax dollars. It would also be non-profit and rely on the work, effort, vision, and support of the families that utilized it.


Not long after returning home from the trip, I set to work on formulating a vision for this type of institution. I have always wanted to build a large "community center" type building to use for classes, parties, dances, political functions, meetings, community service projects, family support services, business endeavors, etc. much like the usage of the public libraries, only, it would be privately owned and under no such regulations, restrictions, and scrutiny as government owned buildings. As the vision got bigger and more defined, I started looking at large buildings to purchase. I looked at buildings that were minimally 7,000 SF, consequently making the sales price begin at about $500,000. Knowing that I didn't want to get a loan on the building, I started entertaining the idea of getting other investors to purchase the building with me, using cash so we would own it outright. I formulated the numbers and started looking for investors. If ten investors put up $50,000 a piece, we would easily be able to buy a building outright and negotiate quite a deal with our cash.

It soon became apparent within the diverse group of potential investors that our motives were different. Several potential investors were about the philanthropy and community impact of the project, while others were bent on a phenomenal profit margin that discouraged philanthropy. The tension over the use of the building and the lack of cohesion in the investment group started to make me doubt whether we could make the project work. When it looked as though we could not make it happen as a team, I started thinking about starting something on my own again. I immediately felt as though I was on the right track.

Along with the thought to press forward on my own, came a rememberance of a principle I have always utilized in entrepreneurship, and really, in life: start at the bottom stair (or ladder) and build upward. I realized that I had been trying to skip many steps by purchasing a building that I did not have the cash to purchase on my own. I knew that I had to start at the beginning and that if I built upward, like climbing stairs, I would eventually be at the place I could buy a building on my own and it would be when it was the logical "next step." A spiritual confirmation followed, so I set out to define and start at the beginning step.

In the fall of 2008, I started holding classes in our existing real estate office space for older teens. We had Seminary, Speech and Debate, Constitutional Studies, and History. By the spring of 2009, the vision had grown and I rented the space next door to our real estate office, formed a non-profit organization, and called it Vision of Zion. We used it in the summer as a place to audition, cast, and rehearse for our movie, Stand Strong. We used it in the fall of 2009 to start hosting an extended number of classes for teens as well as younger children. Month by month, new students, and excellent instructors kept manifesting themselves into the vision.

Because of the intensity of the inspiration, and the urgency to start Vision of Zion, I was sure that it had been for the purpose of spiritually aiding one of my children. It turned out that at the end of the 2009-2010 school year, that child had never attended a class, and will not be in the future. While contemplating that thought and the realization that was not the purpose, it occurred to me that amongst other things, Aura made a friend in her classes that she may never have met any other way. I felt a spiritual witness of that truth. Vision of Zion was started for many reasons, all of which were inspired.


I thoroughly enjoyed watching Vision of Zion blossom this year. As we just ended the school year, I have had some time to think about the many great families and youth I've come to know and love through our association at Vision of Zion. We finished out the year with a night games party last night. It was amazing to watch the 70+ youth who attended, run and chase and laugh. They are incredible youth and I'm so blessed to have gotten to know them.

Here is a link to the photos that were taken over the 2009-2010 school year. If you took photos or video of activities, parties, classes, or events, please share them on the site.

http://visionofzion.shutterfly.com/#

Next year's schedule is looking amazing and will start again the day after Labor Day, Tuesday, September 7, 2010. Hopefully, I am ambitious enough to get a website up for it soon!