Brandon Moon

Last weekend, after the Lavender 5k Run, my wife and I headed up to Joe’s Valley by Fairview, UT where my brother’s in-laws own a cabin. We went to see my two twin nieces get baptized. It’s about a two hour drive, so we were rushing home from the 5k to get showered and back on the road, since the baptism was planned for 12:00. We were on the road just a bit after 10:00, but we seemed to be moving along OK and I wasn’t worried.

It was probably 11:00 or 11:15 when we pulled through Fairview and headed up the canyon. I figured we were doing great on time, but I was careful to check the map my brother had given me. He had described the next turn as a tricky one, so I wanted to make sure I got it right. I mentally added the distance to my trip meter and stored the number in my brain for future reference.

As we headed up the canyon and the my trip meter got close to the calculated distance, I started to look for a turn-off onto a dirt road, as described. All I found was this:

In case you can’t tell, that’s a small four-wheeler style road that goes through a creek and up a steep hill. Just pulling onto the road and up to the river was a steep enough decline to make it difficult for my car to reverse back up. And we were supposed to continue up this road for 13 miles?!

I figured this couldn’t be the road, but yet it was the only dirt road that came close to fitting the description at that distance up the road. It was supposed to be a tricky turn-off. Nobody told me I’d need a truck though! Why hadn’t anyone said anything?

We had no cell reception, so we couldn’t call anyone or look up any maps on our phone. All we could do was drive back and forth on that section of the road a couple times—to no avail. We even said a prayer for help. Eventually we turned back, figuring we’d done all we could.

When we reached Fairview again, I started to realize that we had come down that canyon fast for 18 miles. We had reception again once we got down there, so I pulled out my phone and looked at the map. Sure enough, we hadn’t gone far enough up the canyon. In my hasty arithmetic in my head, I had added 8 to my trip meter, instead of 18. We were way off!

By now it was 12:00, and we knew we’d already missed the baptism, but we headed up anyways, at least to be able to see our family and congratulate my nieces. Except for one small misdirected turn, we got there with no problems after that. The drive was amazing, and we couldn’t help but take some pictures.

We had a lot of fun in the short time we were up there. Benson amused us with his clever sayings and misunderstandings, we got to see the nieces and nephews ride horses (I can’t believe they let some of them ride by themselves!), and even got to see some baby birds! It was amazing.

I also want to congratulate my two nieces for getting baptized. In our church, baptism is a way that we promise God we will follow his commandments and always remember him. In return, He blesses us with his Holy Spirit, which can help us recognize right and wrong. We also believe that little children are innocent; they don’t need baptism until they turn eight and can understand and make that kind of commitment. That’s why I’m so proud of them: they’ve made the decision for themselves to follow Christ. And I know that He is the source of true happiness.

So I was making a few PB&J sandwiches this morning for lunch, and I was focusing on getting the peanut butter and jam spread just right. You know, so it’s even everywhere and reaches all the edges and all that. But as I was spreading it, I realized I didn’t want to be too careful. Because, after all, a perfectly even PB&J sandwich is kinda boring. I like to have just a little bit of… randomness. So that when I take a bite, sometimes there’s a little more peanut butter, or sometimes there’s more jam. It makes things interesting, you know? That’s what I would define as a perfect PB&J sandwich. Not one with perfectly spread PB&J, but one with enough randomness to make it really enjoyable.

And, of course, I started realizing how this applies to life. Sometimes, when we hear the word “perfect,” I think we assume that means perfectly spread PB&J. But I don’t think that’s what it really means. For example, look at a tree. It’s branches aren’t symmetrical, it’s leaves aren’t always whole. It can sometimes be lopsided or too squat or too tall. So it’s not exactly “perfect.” But then again, if all trees were exactly symmetrical and just the right size, they’d start to get really boring after a while, wouldn’t you think? I think trees are perfect how they are. Even with they’re little imperfections.

I guess what really matters is perfection in purpose. That tree fulfills it’s purpose perfectly. It is beautiful, and it gives variety to the earth. And depending on what kind it is, it produces fruit for us to eat. And that brings us joy. And after all, “Men are that they might have joy”. Even my simple PB&J sandwich will fulfill it’s purpose perfectly by giving me nourishment and joy (I love me a good PB&J!).

Shouldn’t we treat ourselves the same way? When we worry about being perfect, maybe we shouldn’t be so worried about the unimportant details. We don’t need to have every hair in the right place. Or every nail cut exactly right. We don’t need perfect clothes, or even perfect bodies in many cases. We don’t need to excel at every test, or in every sport, or in every adventure we embark on. We just need to focus on fulfilling our purpose. Besides, if everyone were exactly alike, that’d be pretty boring too. I kinda like the originality (or randomness) we all have.

And thankfully, we can accomplish our purpose perfectly, through the Atonement of Jesus Christ. And we can trust Him perfectly, for He is perfect. After all, His purpose is “to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man.”

And that sounds just perfect to me.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t all that difficult to figure out what was my favorite place in the world. It’s not somewhere far away, it’s not even someplace the world might find super amazing. It’s a simple place, but all the same, it’s my favorite. It’s home.

My absolute favorite place in the world is home because that is where my family is. I am so very very grateful for my family. They are wonderful. People get surprised when I tell them I have seven siblings. Not to mention five are married, so I have ten nieces and nephews as well. When we all get together it’s crazy town! But I can’t imagine my family being complete without any of them.

Perhaps what I love most about my family is that I am completely, wholly, and in all ways 100% accepted there. I don’t have to worry at all about making mistakes or upsetting anyone, because I know they understand me. And even if I do mess up, they’ll still accept me. And that makes me want to be a better person. So I can be like that to others. That, to me, is the most magical thing about family. That’s why family is so essential.

I’ve recently been trying to memorize The Family: A Proclamation to the World. It’s a big effort, but not too difficult for someone like me who has a crazy random gift at memorizing. In memorizing it, I’ve come to appreciate my family so much more. I know that family is ordained of God, and that it is part of His eternal plan for our happiness. I’m saddened to see a world so confused that the fundamental building block of the family is falling apart. I can’t think of anything worse that could happen today.

I look forward to the day when I can raise my own family. Although it won’t seem like much, and the way may be difficult, hopefully my little family can stand for something.

More posts to come, but here’s a good quote in the meantime:

Primary teacher: Did you know that Heavenly Father is in control of everything? Isn’t that great? Nothing happens without Him being in charge!

Four-year-old: Wow! So when I turn on the light, Heavenly Father sees me and claps His hands to make the lights come on?? I knew that’s how light switches worked!

Source: Overheard In The Ward