Confessions of a Rich Poor Guy

Adversity, What's It Good For?

2013-06-25T14:32:00.002-07:00

We all face adversity every day. Some of it is minor and short lived, sometimes it is major and seems to last forever. How we endure it and progress once it has passed is where character and our true self shines through. I've had many periods of adversity in my life, but I consider myself fortunate that I haven't had anything truly major or long lasting occur thus far in my life. Now some of you may be thinking, "wait, he was laid off and unemployed for half a year." or, "isn't his house literally falling apart around him and his family?" While the answer to both of those questions is a resounding yes, I have tried my hardest to have my mindset change from a "woe is me" attitude to a "come what may, and love it" attitude. My initial purpose in creating this blog was to share my insights and experiences in the hopes that some person might come across it and learn or be uplifted in some way. I don't have a following per say, so the reach of this blog is short, but maybe it's mainly for me to look back on and learn at a later date? At any rate, I wanted to share some of the mental struggles I've had recently in regards to my calling as the ward mission leader in my ward. So, here we go...

Last fall I was released as first counselor in the bishopric of our ward. I had loved (and still do love) the time I was able to serve in the bishopric. To be with the amazing men I served around for 8-10 hours a week was an incredible learning experience. It was an amazing experience to kneel each week with them and to pray for our ward members and for issues we felt were of importance to our ward. My testimony of revelation and priesthood keys was strengthened a hundred fold! When the call came from the stake executive secretary asking if I could meet with a member of the stake presidency, I knew what was coming. With my previous callings; from executive secretary, elders quorum president, and then into the bishopric, I knew the call was coming before I officially received it. I just felt it in my heart so strongly. So strongly that on each occasion I told Liselle that a phone call or message was on it's way, and each time, it came. This time was different. I knew I was going to be released because they didn't need my sweet wife to come with me. As I sat in the stake offices across from a man that I have come to love like a father, and the release came, I felt something I had never felt before... Lost. I didn't have a new calling immediately, so once I was officially released the next Sunday, I felt like a fish out of water. To go from having a lot of things to do, people to contact, callings to extend, temple recommends to issue, tithing to count, and talks and lessons to give, and then have absolutely nothing to do the next week was a shock to my system. To some it may be seen as a vacation or relief, but to me, I felt like I had no purpose. It was almost like being fired, not laid off, fired. That feeling was short lived of course. I knew that the Lord had something else in store for me, and that it was time for another amazing man to get some training in preparation for future leadership. A few weeks later, I was called as the ward mission leader.

I've always loved missionary work. As a young man, I went on several appointments with the missionaries, and even got to teach someone in my ward who chose to be baptized. I looked forward to my mission from a young age. I couldn't wait until I got that black name tag. As I've mentioned previously, I served as a missionary in Scotland, and loved the people and experiences I had there. I think about them every day. I had several testimony building experiences, and many other spiritual experiences that I hold sacred to my heart. After I returned home, married in the temple, and began having a family, I still had that deep abiding love for sharing the gospel with people. Even now, almost 12 years after returning home, I still cherish the experiences I had there, and all the other missionary experiences since. I am that annoying guy who always shares experiences from my mission. That is where my struggle comes into play.

Having served in many "visible" callings in the ward, I've had the worry creep into my head that maybe my influencing ability has now diminished. Instead of people seeing my thoughts, talks, lessons, and challenges as something from a leader and take it to heart, I worried I had become the guy who everyone tunes out and rolls their eyes thinking, "here goes Nic again..." Sometimes that just happens when you are an "old timer" in a ward. It got to a point where I was so frustrated with things that I really wondered if I was hindering the missionary work from happening because people were sick of hearing from me. Thankfully, I've learned that when good things are on the horizon, that there's another tricky guy who tries to keep us from moving forward. Opposition in all things. Good has bad. Right has wrong. Light has darkness. Star Wars has Star Trek, and so forth. I've given many people that same pep talk to help them get through struggles and have seen it work on several occasions. It didn't always immediately solve the problem, but they were able to face the adversity with a new resolve and eventually overcome it. I just needed someone to give me the pep talk for my own benefit. Luckily, I attended the mission training this past Sunday. That combined with giving myself the pep talk have strengthened my resolve, and so help me, the missionary work in the Balmoral Ward is going to move! It's been stagnant for months, and I'm not going to allow it any more!

One thing I have learned over the past couple of months is that there are may times when you aren't going to get that pat on the back, or pep talk, or encouragement you want. You may feel like you are the only one who cares at times (even though that isn't the truth), and become frustrated when a group of people seemingly ignore something you ask them to do. What should you do when you feel that way? That pep talk, or pat on the back may just have to come directly from yourself. Don't be afraid of giving yourself credit, and definitely don't push blame onto others for not pitching in. Sunday's training helped me realize that I have been doing good things trying to help the missionary work progress, and that I shouldn't get upset or frustrated when others choose to focus on something different instead of jump on my little wagon.

If anyone reads this and is struggling with adversity, I'll give one piece of advice. You can, and will, overcome it! You have the power within you to break through, climb over, dig under, or run around whatever wall you are facing. When you feel a little weak or incapable, know that you have a team of people there to help you. There are many who have conquered the same issue, and can give you help and guidance, and once you overcome it, it's your turn to help others. To close out, I wanted to share this very profound quote from Elder Jeffrey R. Holland. "The future of this world has long been declared; the final outcome between good and evil is already known. There is absolutely no question as to who wins because the victory has already been posted on the scoreboard. The only really strange thing in all of this is that we are still down here on the field trying to decide which team's jersey we want to wear!” I'll echo a sentiment I shared with my dear friend Aubrey, you've chosen the right jersey, now you're being called into the game. Will you let the butterflies keep you on the sidelines, or will you get out there and give it your all?

Memories of Prom and Other Dances

2013-05-06T11:43:00.001-07:00

Over the past month or so my Face Book timeline has been plastered with lots of pictures of prom and all those fun shenanigans. It made me think of my dance experiences when I was young. So bear with me as I take you on a trip down memory lane and share some of my good and bad high school dance experiences. I'll omit names as a safety precaution.

As a sophomore at Hillcrest High School, I was excited about the prom coming up. I had turned 16 in February, and now was allowed to go on dates. I hadn't gone on a date before then, and for some crazy reason, I thought the prom would be a fun first date. I had a friend (who was a girl, haha) in one of my classes that I thought was pretty cute, but more importantly, we got along, and I figured she'd be fun to go with. I wasn't having grand aspirations of a romance blossoming or anything like that, I just wanted to have a good time with friends. For some reason it is a tradition in Utah (not sure about other places) to make asking someone to a dance a big elaborate production. I chose to get a bag full of fortune cookies, put my name inside one of them, and drop off a letter that said, "I would be fortunate if you would go to prom with me." Yes, I know it was pretty lame, but hey, I was a lame 16 year old.

The next day at school was a little awkward. Was she going to say anything to me about it at school? Were her friends? Would she be excited, mad, grossed out, scared, happy? When 6th period came (she sat right in front of me), she walked in, sat down, and gave me a simple nod and a "hi". She didn't talk like she had before I asked, so I figured she wasn't excited about it. She did send her answer, a 'yes' and we were all set. My worry went away as I started planning my tuxedo, what color corsage to get her, and planning the activities with my other buddies who were in my group. Finally the big day arrived. My ride picked me up and we headed off to get my date. I should have recognized the omen that happened on the way to her home. We got a flat tire. So, in tuxedos, we changed a flat and were late to pick up my date. When I knocked on the door, my dates mom answered the door, and I walked in. My date walked out of a room, still in sweats. Seeing as I was about 20 minutes late, I was surprised that she wasn't even dressed. I just took it as a clear message that she didn't really want to go, but was being nice. She got dressed, and we left to pick up my buddy's date. For dinner, we went to Della Fontana's up near the Utah Capitol. It was yummy food. My date seemed to enjoy it too... Maybe a little too much. She ate her salad (a finger salad of full romaine leaves and dressing to dip it in) quickly, but purposely got dressing on her face and was acting all silly. Not a huge deal, but I expected something different (we were all in tuxedo's and gowns after all). Similar behavior during the main course of pasta; slurping up noodles etc. which I found annoying.

When we finally got to the actual dance, we took pictures, and then hit the dance floor. One problem; my date was nowhere to be found after pictures. So I did what every super cool high school basketball player does. I stood there, walked around mingling with people who weren't latched on to their date, and gave up on the night. If I would have had my own car, I may have just gone home all together, but I stuck it out. We did dance together for a few songs, but nothing significant. Next came the party afterwards. It was at an awesome home, ice cream was devoured, games were played, and people snuggled during a movie. Luckily for me, the house had an indoor basketball court and that's where I spent my time. I have no idea where my date was. We left to drop off our dates, and mine was the last. To say I was annoyed is an understatement. We walked up to her door, she gave me a hug and said, "that was fun, let's do it again." I didn't say anything, but if you could read my thoughts, I was saying, "yeah, not on your life!"

So I didn't have a good first date experience. I know there are two sides to every story, but I never got to hear the other side. I was very self conscious about myself after that, and that is on top of the usual angst a 16 year old kid would typically have. Initially, I thought, "hey, I'm a 2 year varsity starter as a soph. I'm pretty cool. Why wouldn't a girl want to go on a date with me?" It was then that I realized that being awesome at something in front of the entire school, being on the news here and there, and having your name in the newspaper didn't mean squat. That "fame" didn't bring friends automatically. So, I hung up my dating shoes until the summer because I figured I was undesirable.

I had a similar experience in the following fall for homecoming. I spent the money for the date and all that stuff, but was dateless for a large portion of the dance, and had an uncomfortable time sitting with her during the movie we watched afterwards. The weird thing to me was that I had gone on a previous date with this girl, and we had a total blast. So it blew my mind when she acted like I was an alien or something. I started to wonder if I had this creeper vibe, and that every girl had the thoughts, "please, PLEASE, don't let that Fitz kid ask me on a date!" So I hung it up again, focused on hoops, and life went on. My paranoia escalated with every girls choice dance that passed without me getting an invitation. High school really messes with your head. I thought middle school was bad with the teasing, but it was tougher for me to be what I thought was invisible. My junior year I made the front page of the Tribune sports page, but that didn't do much on the popularity scale. In fact, it made me feel a bit more alone because some of my older teammates gave me the cold shoulder too because I got more attention, or playing time than they did.

My story ends on a good note though with girls preference in the spring of my junior year. I was asked by an amazing person, who was always kind to me in classes, and at the games (she was a cheer leader). I had the most fun I'd ever had on a date, and felt like the curse had been broken. We never became an exclusive couple, or dated seriously after that, she was just a great friend that I had a lot in common with. She's married with a beautiful family of her own now, as are the ladies I had bad experiences with. And I can say that now, I am a better husband and father because of these experiences. Just like everything else in life, we have to go through a bunch of crap in order to recognize and appreciate the good things when they come. If anyone out there reads this, and is having, or has gone through struggles like mine, know this. It gets better. There will be that one moment where the clouds lift, and you feel like you are noticed or cared about. Guess what? You always were, and always will be. Don't shrink away or try to change who you are. I tried those things in certain situations, and it doesn't work, or you don't attract the kind of people you would like. I know it's typical for an "old guy" like me to give this piece of advice, but talk to your parents. If you can't, talk to someone. It will help you realize that you have so much going for you. Most importantly, don't hang your happiness on whether a girl (or boy) likes you. Chances are that whatever money you spend on dates with be spent on another man's future spouse. If you go out, and you are gaga over him or her, but they are not into you, try to move on. It's really hard, but totally doable. Also, treat those you date with respect. Open doors, wait for them to be seated first. Look for those little opportunities to help/ serve. It wont guarantee they fall in love with you, but it doesn't hurt and you learn good habits early.

Making a Choice... Sort Of

2013-04-25T15:04:00.000-07:00

Our life has been a whirlwind of craziness over the past month. I have been working a lot of hours, meeting with many people, helping them find what matters to them and implementing a plan. If we haven't had a conversation about what I do for people, we really do need to sit and visit. I'm busy, and have a lot of demand, but I'm never too busy. I've had several nights recently where I get home just as the kids are getting in bed, or even after they've been asleep for a bit. I've had a little bit of a reprieve this week, and it's great to spend time with my little family. On top of the craziness of work, we have been pondering what the next move for our family will be in regards to the garbage going on with our home. Through a couple of awesome experiences we have made a decision... Sort of.

Two weeks ago, after an amazing General Conference weekend, Liselle and I felt the need to really sit and discuss what we were going to do with our home. I had felt strongly that it was time to make a decision, petition the Lord for confirmation, and move forward. This whole process has been a real mental/ emotional roller coaster. It's now been 7 years since we moved into the Balmoral neighborhood. I feel we were brought there by our Heavenly Father to help us grow, learn, and to be trained for things in the future. When we were in the process of finding a place, we bid on one home, but were outbid by a ridiculously small amount. We missed out on a couple of others, one was even destroyed by a huge fire. Eventually we found our current home. We got in just as the housing bubble was expanding, and saw many amazing people move in. It truly was a little piece of heaven for us. Through great neighbors, an amazing ward, and the positions I have held in the ward, I got to know so many amazing families. In our 7 years, I've been able to serve in our ward as 1st and 2nd counselor in the Elders Quorum, Executive Secretary, Elders Quorum President, 1st and 2nd counselor in the Bishopric, and currently as Ward Mission Leader. I've sat in many living rooms with these amazing people, and truly love them all. We thought that we would never leave because we love the people so much that it would be impossible to let them go.

The weekend of the 13th and 14th, Liselle and I decided to attend our ward temple night, and to go with a purpose in our hearts. We had decided that we were going to move out of our home, and wanted to know if that was the right thing to do. As we walked inside those hallowed walls, I felt peace and calm. After handing my recommend to the man at the desk, he greeted me with a simple, "Brother Fitzgerald, welcome to the house of the Lord." As soon as he said that, I felt the warm fuzzies all over my body, and even got teared up a bit. Through the entire session, I felt so at peace with everything. With work, with things at home, with my marriage, with my relationships with those I love and care deeply about. Most of all, I was finally at peace with the idea of leaving our beloved ward and neighbors. After talking with my sweet Liselle, she had the same feelings. We also used the next day, which happened to be fast Sunday, to focus on that answer, and ask for guidance on which avenue to take in leaving. That's where the 'sort of' above comes from. We are moving soon, that decision is made. We just don't know which way we are leaving yet; walking away (strategic default), or patching things up a bit and renting.

Throughout this whole process we have been supported by so many people. Our families have been great in helping us find resources and professionals to talk things over with. Our friends and neighbors have expressed concern and support for us in trying to make sense of everything. We've had several chats (in person and on Face Book), emails, texts and phone calls asking us how things are holding up. There have been ups and downs as we learn of each lead that takes us towards another dead end. There have been worries of our house just tipping over with a stiff breeze, snow and rain pouring in through the cracks, freezing winds blowing in to our rooms, rodents walking in through the wide open cracks, and many other crazy possibilities. I'm not sure how we held it together this long and never really freaked out, but I know that our support group has been a huge contributor. To all who fall into that category, thank you so very much.

With us leaving and starting a new chapter in our lives, we will miss many people. Some we may never see in person again, only through social media. Others will continue to be the same friends they have been through our time here in Balmoral. Regardless, know that you have been an influence for good in my life, and I will look to your examples always as ones of strength and service. If we never got along well, you still have had a positive effect on my life, because that's how I choose to see it. If I've ever hurt your feelings, or done something stupid, please forgive me. Above all, I hope that I have been half as good to you as you all have been to me, and that if you hear my name years from now it brings good feelings and memories.

Man, you'd think I was dying or something! Life is great, live yours in a way that matches the greatness you possess!

Act Well Thy Part

2013-04-08T14:47:00.000-07:00

I've always loved conference, but this past weekend was so incredibly amazing that I felt the need to acknowledge it here. Some of you follow me on Twitter, others are friends on Facebook; as a result I'm sure many of you saw my conference related tweets. If not, go check them out. ;)

One reason I was so enthusiastic about live tweeting during conference is because I have several friends that do not attend church any more. Through many different circumstances they have decided to not attend. Regardless of why they left, I still have a deep love for them and want them to be happy. For me, happiness comes through the gospel, my family and friends, hard work, and a list of many other things. For me, the gospel is paramount in my happiness foundation, the chief cornerstone. While others have different formulas for happiness, I personally feel that the gospel will only magnify that joy and happiness. So I wanted to share that joy with anyone who saw my timeline over the weekend.

When I was younger, I served as a missionary for the LDS church from 1999 to 2001 in the bonnie land of Scotland in the Scotland Edinburgh Mission. In my two years I met some of the most amazing people, and through the marvel of social media, I've been able to keep in contact with them. One of the most recent has been Joanne McCafferty from my last area. She may kill me for talking about her here, but I'm willing to take the risk because there is a great lesson to be learned from her. When I was there in Wishaw, Joanne was a recent convert to the church along with her mother. They had us over for dinner many times, we had family home evenings, and did much teaching in their home. When I left to return home, they threw me a big farewell party that ended up in a huge water fight. They sent me home with a picture that still hangs on my fridge today. One day about 2 months ago she caught me on Facebook chat. We caught up and talked about our families and where life had taken us since we last spoke. As we talked I felt strongly that I should ask her if she still went to church. She told me that she hadn't been in a long time. It was a little hard to hear, but I knew she was still an amazing person, and it didn't change the way I felt about her and her family. We have talked several times since, and she has started praying again, I helped her download the gospel library app on her phone and she has been reading. As this has been going on, I have noticed a change in her, even though I haven't seen her in person for all these years. This weekend she took the challenge to watch general conference. She did, and from what I've heard, loved every second that she saw.

One of the things I've learned from Joanne over the past couple of months is that everyone has struggles. Some are much harder than others, sometimes we do feel absolutely alone, and there are times when the actions of others can be a great influence on our perspective in life. I met Joanne as a missionary 12 years ago. Through all those years, I'm sure Joanne thought of me still as a young missionary, just as I thought of her as that silly (in a good way) teenager I taught all those years ago. Relationships are remembered for what they were when you last saw the person. If it was a bad breakup, the other person will almost always be a jerk in your mind. If someone was overbearing, or came on too strong, that is how you remember them. If someone was a tall goofy dude who loves Star Wars, that's what you remember. It made me think about how awkward the conversation would be if I had stopped doing the church thing and the tables were turned. What if someone I taught and helped come into the gospel asked me if I still went and I didn't? I'm sure I'd feel guilty to some degree. How would I explain it to someone I testified to that I knew it was true that I no longer took part in those blessings? It made me a bit uncomfortable.

If you have served a mission when you were younger, or are going to serve, or are just getting back, I have one piece of advice: though you are released when you return home, you will always feel that love and sense of duty for those you served and lived amongst. They will look to you many years later for help, guidance, example, or just as a friendly ear to talk to. You will aways be Elder/Sister [Insert Name Here] to them. Think about what that means. This can ring true for friendships and relationships forged in school, work, and as neighbors. I have many friends on Facebook that I haven't seen since I graduated. I'd love to sit down and visit with all of them because they had an impact on my life. Whether it was a 'hi' or a smile in the hallway, or someone cheering extra loud at one of my basketball games, or even someone who may have been rude to me, I am the person I am today because of those things; and I wouldn't change it for the world.

One more quick lesson I've learned. In Scotland, our mission motto was, "What E'er thou art, act well thy part." I know, I know, my ward members in West Valley are rolling their eyes because I preach it a lot, but hey, this is my blog so I'm gonna talk about it. I asked Joanne what inspired her to chat with me that one evening 2 months ago. Her answer, "I saw you were online and felt like I should say hello." Did that mean she was looking for someone to invite her back to church? I am pretty sure that was the last thing on her mind, but through our conversations, invitations were made, encouragement was given during struggles, and the eternal friendship we have was instantly strengthened. The point is for each of us to be who we are regardless of location, circumstance, or company. Have I been a prefect example of this? No way Jose. Do I try? All the time. The struggle to find ones self, and then live within that identity is one we all face. Life gets stressful, some people just don't jive together, but we are all on this rock flying through space together. We might as well try to be genuine with each other and render help or service when needed regardless of whether it's solicited or not. To quote the wise Abraham Lincoln, "Be excellent to each other. And... PARTY ON DUDES!!!"

Kids, House Issues, and a Lesson Learned

2013-04-01T16:08:00.002-07:00

So it's been a while, far too long in fact, and I am full of many thoughts and feelings... First; my kids are so great! I've been struggling with the fact that many kids like to express themselves in a less than enjoyable tone. Simply put, they whine. I've been trying to focus on the good, polite things they do, and magnify them, but at times it feels like I'm bashing my head against a wall. I know it's a part of parenthood, but it doesn't make it any easier to deal with right now. After all is said and done, I love those little squirts to death!.

Some of you know about the issues we are having with our home, and the fact that several others are having similar issues. As this progressed into a widespread issue, I had a fear creep in, and now I'm beginning to see it come to pass. My fear was that as things progressed, and we found that there was nothing we could do to show liability on the builder or any outside party that was involved in the construction of this development, that we as residents would turn on each other. This issue is a major one to those of us effected. Many who don't have the issue feel sympathy for our plight, but that's about it. I don't blame them at all, I would be the same way if our roles were reversed. What I've come to see as we continue to peel back the layers and hit a dead end, or be told that there isn't anything at all that can be done outside of privately funding the repairs ourselves, is that we are starting to point fingers at each other. We can't go after the builder because we are well outside the statute of limitations. The city has immunity in the matter as well. The Geotech did an in depth analysis and gave his findings, but the ultimate decision doesn't fall with him. We don't qualify for any government grants because we are part of a townhome community with an HOA. Our HOA doesn't have any liability within their master plan because they only have to cover common areas, and homeowners are responsible for the structure. Insurance doesn't cover settling at all. The list goes on and on. So you can see where frustrations and anger could fester and explode. Unfortunately, I was involved in one. I wont go into details, but suffice it to say, feelings were hurt on both sides, and I never expect to hear from this individual again. Such is life.

With all of this stress and drama, we have been spurred into looking at our options for moving into the next phase of our lives. We are a growing family, and need more space. The problem lies with the fact that we would not be able to sell our home for what we want. We are lucky to not be upside down in our home, but with the issues, I have a strong feeling we couldn't sell it for what we would like. So that brings up the question, should we walk away? I don't really want to do that. I want out of the house, but not at that cost. Not yet anyway. Do we patch it up and rent? That's the most appealing option right now, but we don't know how extensive the "patching up" would need to be. Then we have to figure out where to go from here. My new job is awesome, but we've hit a lull financially the last month, and I don't have enough work history to go through new financing. So renting would be our best option right now. Where do you move a family of 5 that the kids are growing? Would there be any affordable options? These are the things that are flying around in my head.

On the work side, I completely love what I do! I sit with individuals and families and help them out in many ways. If we haven't talked yet, we need to. Even if you have things already in place, we need to visit. Going from a salary to commission career is a neat experience. Lately things have been a little tight with finances, and I'm truly glad for it. Throughout my unemployment we never really felt the financial pinch too hard. Thanks to having a good amount of savings, a food order or two from the Bishop's Storehouse, and a little help on our mortgage one month, we made it through. Then came the season of financial "ka-ching!" that we hadn't experienced before.Thank goodness we were disciplined and didn't get things like a sweet new TV, or the new car I want to get. As assets dwindle, I have realized that we didn't focus on replenishing our emergency savings. That lead us to the lean times we now face, and has helped us plan to hedge against those times in the future. I don't anticipate those times again, but we will be better off for it. This is a season where I am fulfilling one of the things promised to me in my Patriarchal blessing: that there would be times where I would be studying and working instead of enjoying some of the frills of the world, but that I would have the means to provide for my family and to help others. This in no way means I haven't done business or anything like that, it's just been a lot of small things with no big things peppered in, but that was remedied 2 weeks ago.

Then there's my sweet Liselle. Always standing by my side in support, love, and kindness. Lis, I love you with all of my heart. I don't know what I did to fool you into loving me, but I'm sure glad I did. ;)

To all of you, I give thanks for your friendship, examples, and service. For those in our ward, this doesn't mean we are moving right away, but we are looking into it. There have been many years where we have had no desire to ever leave, but with recent events, that has changed. Next week marks our 7th year in this home. We have grown a lot, laughed too many times to count, cried, fell in love with our neighbors and ward (in a non-romantic way), forged friendships that will truly last, played music, made costumes, and a million other things that will stay with us forever. Who knows, maybe we're just experiencing the 7 year itch, but with our house. Onward and upward!

What a difference a year makes!

2013-01-14T15:10:00.000-08:00

It was January 12, 2012. The day was like any other day at the office. Lots to do, great co-workers, and a high stress level. I knew that stress was going to be cranked up a few notches with the departure of one of my employees who was being laid off. I had been working on transitioning those clients to my book, and introducing myself as their new contact. I still felt very unprepared and was worried about what lie ahead. I started with this company in July of the same year, and had learned much about the payroll/ benefits world. Nothing I had experienced in my life could prepare me for what would happen later that afternoon.

We had been losing a lot of clients with nothing of significance coming in to replace them. I was told this was normal in this industry, and not to worry. Just before Christmas, I had to sit in on one of the hardest things ever, informing someone that they were out of a job. The timing was bad, and I just felt sick to my stomach about it. I had the distinct feeling that I wasn't meant to be the one that delivered that kind of bad news to anyone. In the past I have had management positions and had no problem with motivating and helping those I worked with. When we walked out of that meeting, I had a strong impression to go with that person into another room and chat. As soon as the door closed, all I could say was "I'm sorry" and offered a hug. I fought to hold back the tears. In the weeks that followed that news, I lost sleep and felt as if I had betrayed my friend. Maybe that was my fatal flaw, that I became friends with her and thus, had that emotional connection.

As her last day approached, my stress kept increasing. Something felt amiss with the whole situation. I didn't know why or what it meant, but it didn't sit well with me. On the night of January 11th while serving at the church I told a neighbor about my feelings. "I've never been laid off, but for some reason maybe I'm meant to go through that experience." It was foreshadowing for the very next day.

The first half of the day went like it usually did. Our HR Manager had the day off (he's a stud by the way) for his brothers wedding. I thought I saw him come into the office, but didn't pay much attention to it. A while after that, my phone rang. "Can you come into the board room?" It seemed an odd request. "I'm in the middle of this payroll, can I finish it up and come in when I'm done?" I asked. I didn't dwell too much on it because I was in the middle of a project, so I forged on with the thought to pop my head in when I was finished. When I completed my task, I walked down the hallway to the board room. The door was locked, so I knocked. The door opened just enough for me to see our HR Manager, and another of my co-workers sitting at the table with a couple of papers. "Can you give us a couple of minutes?" I said yes and returned to my desk. That's when the wheels started turning. I said a little prayer asking for help to accept whatever it was and to have a clear and calm mind. I was soon called back into the board room; with a deep breath I walked back down the hall.

The mood wasn't sad, but it definitely wasn't cheerful. The situation: We had lost too many clients and needed to cut back to a skeleton crew in order to recoup losses. The news: I, along with 5 other co-workers were being laid off and our last day would be the next day, the 13th. I sat there for a few seconds, and all I could feel was relief. Why relief? I have no idea. I wasn't surprised by it at all, and in some way, I had been prepared for it emotionally. I thought to myself, "this is how it feels to be fired."; but I was not upset or freaking out wondering what I was going to do. I gave our HR and Operations Managers a handshake and a hug and went back to my desk. By then, a few others had been informed, and we started discussing it. I was most worried about calling my sweet wife and breaking the news to her. I waited until I got home to tell her because I wanted it to be a face to face conversation. Unsurprisingly to me, she was understanding, supportive, and sweet. She didn't get upset, cry, or freak out wondering how we were going to feed 3 kids, pay our mortgage and other obligations, and wondering what I was going to do for a job. I've said it once, I'll say it again, I totally hit the jackpot with Liselle!

The decision on what I was going to do for work was almost instant. The result of getting hired turned out to be a saga that lasted 6 and a half months. During that time, we witnessed many of the tender mercies that came to us. My unemployment was only $300 a week. That took care of our mortgage, car payment, and utilities for the most part. How we were able to eat, stay warm, and enjoy a few nice things here and there, I have no other explanation than divine intervention. We were privileged to receive help from our Bishop a couple of times, and have a greater testimony of the welfare programs of the church. We had some good friends on our street have us over for dinner a couple of times, times where we wondered what we should do for dinner. Our family was so supportive and helpful. Whether it was paying me for odd jobs here and there, or giving us some food or groceries, they were received gratefully. We didn't totally burn through our savings, and I never felt worried about money. I struggled a bit with not feeling valuable. I played the mind games anyone who goes through a layoff plays. "If I were any good at what I did, I wouldn't have been laid off." and, "If only I stayed at Job A, I would have avoided this whole thing." Nevertheless, I was able to overcome those quickly and stay positive. That's one of my best talents I think, positivity.

Through the trial, I now appreciate my new job more than anything. I have always wanted to help people and families. This job allows me to do it every day, and I must say, I'm good at it. To be able to make a living helping people plan for, and protect their family and assets is such a rewarding thing! I've rambled on for a while now, and could go a while longer, but I'll spare you... for now. All I can say is... What a difference a year makes!

September 11, 2001

2012-09-11T18:34:00.000-07:00

Here is what I wrote in my Journal 11 years ago. I still feel the same today, but am glad that we have moved forward while honoring those who gave so much that day. I'm so grateful for the lessons I learned that day, and in the days following. I'm also grateful for a hero father who lives his life serving and helping everyone around him, and for an amazing mother who is the epitome of character, strength, and faith. To each of you, I thank you for the influence you have been in my life!

"The past few days have been days I will never forget. Today is Thursday the 13th of September. On Tuesday the 11th, I witnessed and experienced one of the most tragic and horrifying events to happen, ever, in US history. I was going to school at about 7:30am, I was flipping through the stations when I came across an abc news report on 103.1 fm. There were reports of explosions at the Pentagon and the World Trade Center in New York. There was much confusion and no one really knew what was going on. As time passed, about 5-10 minutes, things became a little bit more clear. Airplanes, passenger ones, had crashed into the World Trade Center and the Pentagon in a terrorist attack. Another plane was reported hijacked. I couldn't believe it. I had a little bit of a weird feeling when I woke up that day, but I didn't think anything of it. The WTC continued to burn and more reports were coming in. Sirens and screaming filled the airwaves. It was total chaos. Then, one of the towers collapsed. It fell completely to the ground, just like an implosion. All I could think of was how many people just died. I continued to listen with a horrible picture of destruction in my mind. I got to school and hurried to class because I was running a little late. When I got to my class building, the lobby was packed. One television was on and everyone was glued to it. We all watched in unbelief , hoping that it would all be ok. Then, the worst happened. The second tower collapsed. Everyone's eyes got wide, faces grew pale, and many gasped. Our hearts sank, and many began to cry. Time stood still. Classes were suspended for the day. I hurried home. I found the t.v. on and news reports flying in. I saw the first footage of the second plane actually crashing into the second tower. I just had a deep, empty feeling. The feeling hasn't fully left me yet. I think the initial shock has worn off, but I still feel a bit empty. The loss of life will be tremendous. For the remainder of the day, I found it nearly impossible to concentrate on anything at all. After my basketball work outs, I quickly returned home again. My whole family, except April, were glued to the t.v. I was drained physically and emotionally. The events of the day seemed to catch up with me. M dad, brother and I went to dinner. My dad and I were quite somber through all of dinner. As we left the restaurant, my dad turned the radio to a concert performed by the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. They sang with the voices of angels. They finished one hymn, and began one of my favorite hymns, "I Know That My Redeemer Lives". As I listened to those sacred and beautiful words, the Spirit of the Lord touched my heart deeply. Tears filled my eyes and streamed down my face. The emotions of the day came out. The hymn really helped me to know that those who are gone, are with Him. It also reminded me of the knowledge and peace that the gospel brings. I gathered myself and wiped the tears from my face. I took my time going in to the house and got control of my feelings. I walked in the back door and right as I stepped inside, I began to cry uncontrollably. I ran to my room and jumped on my bed, burying my head in my pillows. One thing I remember about that is, as I lifted my head off my pillow, I saw the tear marks on my pillow and they showed the anguish in my eyes. It was amazing. We finished the day watching the news and praying for all those involved. September 11, 2001 will always be in my mind. It was a day America learned a lot about themselves. We grew closer as a people. Grown men cried at the images of terror, and a nation turned to God seeking for hope, comfort, and peace of mind. Whatever may come of this event, I hope that those responsible will suffer the consequences of their actions, and that we as a people will become more unified and loving towards one another. May the grace and love of God be with all those who mourn, and search of survivors. Good night."

Hoops and Confidence (Part 3)

2012-06-01T10:38:00.000-07:00

Okay, so my last post left off with me being a starter on the sophomore team, getting good JV minutes, and noticing resentment for doing so as a freshman.

As I mentioned, I was feeling the glares from some of the guys that were older than me. I got the cold shoulder from a couple as well. I never heard any of what was said about me by them, but I'm sure it was less than complimentary. I've mentioned my imagination previously and how it was quite strong. When it came to making the high school team as a freshman, becoming a starter, and basically outplaying everyone I was matched up against, I thought I would be heralded as a hero of sorts. Imagine me walking down the hall at school, sunglasses on, people turning and looking at me with awe and talking about how great a basketball player I was. Giving the occasional wink or high five to someone and them being excited about it. That little picture is what was in my mind, and what I hoped things would be like. Instead, I found that I was still "invisible" to many, and that I wasn't as cool as I thought I was. Add on to that the resentment from some teammates and it made for a tough situation.

One of the things that helped me push past that was the glowing praise I would get from my coaches. If they asked me to do something on the court, I did it, and I did it very well. Yes I made mistakes and had off times, but I truly worked my butt off to get better. The reason is two fold. First; I wanted to be the best. Second; I craved that praise and attention and knew that if I continued to do those things I would get it. Well eventually the varsity coach started to really see what I could do and began calling me up to the varsity games. I didn't play much, but loved being on the bench with these much "older" and experienced guys. I really felt like a little kid among men when I was with them. All of those guys were really great and I felt a closer sense of team with them than I did with the younger guys. Maybe it was because they knew what I had been through because of their own experiences. Maybe it was all just my own perception. At any rate, I loved it!

As the season wore down, I was given a great opportunity. Much like when I was in 5th grade, my family was approached by a coach of an AAU/ all star team. An invitation was given for me to join the team and have the opportunity to play all over the country against great players and to have exposure to college recruiters. All I could think was WOW!

Side Note: Up to this point I've refrained from mentioning names of people who have influenced my life. I'm going to change that because I feel I would be short changing what they did for me and making their contributions to my life seem small. In my basketball journey there are 4 main men (aside from my dad) who elevated my game. They are: Brent Chaston, the coach of my childhood up to 8th grade. Dave Hammer, the coach of Salt Lake Metro (the all star team). Andy Tanner, an assistant coach my junior and senior year. And Scott Fields, the coach of an ABA team I played for. These 4 men taught me much about the game of basketball, but more importantly, they taught me lessons that influenced the man I am now and who I will be going forward.

Playing with a team full of really great players was amazing. I mentioned that I didn't score much with my high school team. I think that was partly because everyone wants to score and be a star, and the other part was that they didn't know how to get the ball to me in the post. Yes it seems like a simple thing, but I'll tell you that there have been thousands of times where I had a guy sealed right under the hoop, made eye contact with my teammate who had the ball, and watched them swing the ball away from me. This was not the case with this team. The point guards played like point guards should: as a manager of the game, getting the ball to the best places that had the best chance for success/ scoring. I got the ball in the post more than I ever had, and I loved it. As a result, my points average with that team went way up and I was given the opportunity to really show what I could do with the ball. This success led to confidence, the confidence elevated my game which progressed to gaining the respect of my peers.

As a freshman, I lettered at the varsity level. As a freshman, I got to play in front of John Thompson the legendary coach of Georgetown University. I was able to play in the Thomas and Mack Center in a tournament in Vegas. I had grown from a shy, unsure, kid with low self esteem to a more confident kid who knew I had some great talents. I still had a ways to go, but the groundwork had been laid out and I was on my way towards some more great experiences and memories.

I know I've been rambling on for a while with my basketball story, and there is much more to come. My hope is that just one person will be able to read this and know that others have had the same feelings. Life really sucks sometimes. People are mean, people want to tear others down in order to to feel better about themselves. I know now that those people weren't necessarily bad people, but they felt just as insecure as I did (and still do from time to time). They just had a different way of dealing with it. I kept it to myself, bottled it up. Others lash out. Others use humor to diffuse the situation. Whatever your mechanism, please know that it does get better. If you are one who attacks, I plead with you to think about what damage could be coming from your actions or words. Take a step back and know that we are all in this together. Also, look for a constructive release. Mine has been through basketball, music and movies. Find that creative outlet and I promise you that confidence will come. If you know someone who needs a boost, please send them here. I'm always willing to talk to others in person as well. I'm never too busy to help others!

Hoops and Confidence (Part 2)

2012-05-29T15:55:00.000-07:00

Making the high school team as a freshman was pretty awesome. I felt cool. I felt proud of myself. Within myself, I felt a confidence grow that I didn't really have before. I had always been a shy kid. I was fine around people I knew, but in new situations with new people it took me some time to warm up and be myself. I had the self confidence all throughout the tryouts that I would make the team. It wasn't arrogance, it was just the fact that I had been playing up a grade all of my career up to that point, so I felt comfortable with the competition. As a member of the team, I did get some preferential treatment at my school. Not really by other students, but by the faculty. I had to leave school early on game days to travel and so forth. In gym class, I didn't have to dress and participate on game days. It was kind of cool to have people ask me why I was dressed up, or leaving early, or not playing in gym class. Outside of that, I didn't get the instant popularity that I hoped would accompany my making the team.

Once I made the team, the coaches made no secret that they had no intention of playing me. "You are a freshman, so you won't get much playing time at all." I was told to expect minimal time on the court, and that if that was a problem for me, I could leave the team and try out for the 9th grade team. I didn't even think twice about leaving the team. Again, in my head I was playing at my skill level. The first few games were just as the coaches said, I didn't play more than a few minutes total. As I sat on the bench, I was able to view the game from a position I was not used to. I had to watch other guys get called up before me. I had to watch them play well, play bad, but simply play. I didn't like it, and had a conversation with myself that I still remember to this day. "You are just as good as the guys starting and getting time. Maybe even better," I thought. "When you practice, play like it!"

It was a few weeks into the preseason, and we were having practice in the little gym. I was on the floor with the "B" team running a 1-3-1 defense to give our first team a sense of what to expect from our next opponent. My coaches put me on the point/ top of the 1-3-1 zone; partly because I was big and took up space, and partly for fun. I saw this as my opportunity. I got in my stance as the point guard brought the ball up the floor. I attacked him with defensive pressure, got a steal and a layup. I ran back to the defensive end, and got ready again, chills all throughout my body. The guard came back, with a determined look on his face. I applied pressure again, not letting him go where he wanted to go. I stole the ball again, and got another layup, more chills. As the guard came back again, I could tell he was really mad this time. He came right at me, full speed. I let him run into me. My coaches wisely let the play continue and I got right back up and in his face defensively. For a third time in a row, I stole the ball and we scored. I think of that practice as the day of decision for me. I had decided within myself that I was good enough to start. I didn't mope about not playing much, but used it as motivation to make others see that I was a starter. I was obviously good enough to make the team. The coaches must have seen something in me that lead them to choose me, so I wanted to show them why they needed to play me.

As a result of that practice, my playing time went up. Against our next opponent we played a 1-3-1 zone just to see how they would handle my pressure. The point guard brought the ball up, saw a big 6'5" dude at the top and looked at me like "you're kidding me right?" He looked like he thought I was going to fall over or that he would school me. That just stoked the fire inside me to wipe the smirk off his face. I applied the pressure, stole the ball, and we scored.

In my next week of practice I focused on out playing the starting center when we scrimmaged. He was thick and strong, but didn't really have great skills in the post. I used my speed and skills against his size. I knew at that time that I couldn't out muscle him down low, so I used my brain instead. As the week progressed, I found myself on the "A" team with the starters. Another game came and went with more playing time, and me taking advantage of every second I had on the floor. I started the next game, and did so for the rest of the season.

This was a great boost to my confidence on and off the floor. I felt like I had some swagger. With my success came some resentment from other players. No sophomore wanted to be out played by a freshman. No starter wanted to lose their spot to a freshman. Yes there was a team mentality, but I noticed that some of the guys didn't like the fact that I was playing and they were not. They were looking for me to slip up so they could capitalize on it. This just motivated me even more to be as perfect as I could be on the court. I didn't score as much as I would have liked, but really became the go to guy on defense, and to help my teammates when they got beat. I also learned how to set a wicked screen, and leveled a few guys along the way. My work didn't go unnoticed by the coaches of the JV team. Soon I was being called up to play JV and I started getting good minutes there. Again, I got some dirty looks from others, guys who were juniors, for playing in front of them.

This is becoming a saga, so I will pause here and ask that you keep checking in. More to come.

Hoops and Confidence (Part 1)

2012-05-23T10:15:00.000-07:00

As many of you may already know, I've played a lot of basketball in my days. I've played ever since I was in 2nd grade, and have been able to travel all across this lovely country playing the game I love ever since. Being tall gave me some advantages of course, bit I was missing that extra layer of coaching to teach me better fundamentals. My dad was a great teacher, but it was hard to put those teachings into practice without a hoop. When I was in 4th grade, my basketball career hit, to use a film term, the first major plot point.

It was Halloween, and my school had its annual costume parade; I was dressed as Frankenstein. As I had fun with all of my friends that day, my parents were approached by the father of one of my classmates. He asked them if I played basketball, and if I would like to play on his team. He asked permission to call me and ask me as well. A few days later, our phone rang and I spoke to this strange guy for a few minutes. As our conversation was ending, I was invited to come practice with his team. These practices were nothing like I had ever experienced. We worked on fundamentals, we ran some drills, and we had a couple of set plays to learn. To be honest, I hated these practices at the beginning. I just thought playing basketball meant showing up, running around for a while, and having fun. I hadn't been critiqued by a coach for how I played or shot or anything like that before. I tried to give up a couple of times, but thankfully I had awesome parents who helped me get through it and stick to it.

In 5th grade, I was lucky enough to have something happen to me that forever changed my game in a good way... I broke my left wrist. I was in a cast for 2 weeks, and could have easily not gone to practice or games. Again, I was lucky to have a coach who instilled a team mentality and great parents who bought into it as well. While the team practiced, I went to the empty hoop and took shots with one hand. This taught me the proper form for successful, accurate shooting. It was hard. I missed a lot of shots. I dropped many balls, or had them fall off the side of my hand. In time, I was able to handle the ball well enough to shoot with little problems. The next practice after my cast came off was incredible. My left hand instinctively knew where to go to support the ball while still maintaining the correct form. I was now a more consistent shooter, and had the ball control and positioning that I previously lacked.

Being so tall at a young age, I was put with the older team. A team of kids a year older than me in school. This was scary for me. All these "bigger", stronger kids were intimidating to me as I first took the court against them. I had butterflies before every game wondering if there was going to be a big kid who would kill me on the other team. Looking back, this was not just for the sake of kids my own age, and for fairness. It was actually because my coach saw potential in me, and wanted me to be stretched out of my comfort zone and to improve. Did I have bad games? Most definitely. Was I scared many times? Of course! Did I get better? Quite. I played for this great coach all the way up to 8th grade. After I finished my 8th grade season, I was told that if I wanted to continue playing, I would need to try out for the high school team. My coach had done all the mentoring he could, and put it on us to take our game to the next level. I was saddened by this a bit, but really looked forward to trying out as well.

9th grade came. I heard about the tryouts for the sophomore team at the high school, and got those butterflies all over again. I was nervous because it was an unknown place. I didn't know the coaches, and many of the kids I played with weren't going to try out. I did have the confidence that I would play well because I had been playing a year up my whole life, so I had played against many of these older guys before, and by this time, I was much more comfortable matching up against them.

As I arrived for tryouts, I was excited, nervous, and a little scared. Here I was in this huge gym with hundreds of other kids who all had the hope of grabbing one of the coveted 15 spots on the team. The first two days were great. With so many people, they just had us play pickup games and sifted out the kids who had no place on the court. So, as a freshman, I made it through the first two rounds of cuts. As the herd was thinned, we did more skill drills and still played a lot of games. I was bumped around a few different teams to see how I did with different combinations of guys. I made the cut again. The next day I rolled my ankle. It was hurt so bad that I couldn't play. "There went my chances of making the team," I thought. Luckily the coaching staff saw something in me and let me stick around. "We'll keep him around for another day and see how he does," was a line my dad heard a few times in a row. Looking back, it reminds me of the line form the movie "The Princess Bride" that says, "good work, I'll most likely kill you in the morning." This is where I started to get some sideways looks from some of the older kids. I was still playing well, but many of them didn't like the fact that they were getting cut while this "little" freshman was going on. I grew to love, but hate, looking on the coaches office window at the list every day. I loved seeing my name, but hated seeing other kids cry, hit lockers, swear, and give me dirty looks after seeing that they were cut.

The day came for final cuts. The list was posted, and my name was on the list. I had made the team! I had struggled through the second week with a swollen and sore ankle, but still did enough to lock up a spot on the team. I was so excited! This excitement was two fold. One one hand, I was glad to be on a team, to have good coaches, and to face a new challenge. On the second; I was looking forward to whatever popularity may follow making the high school basketball team as a freshman.

I have to confess, I hated middle school. That awkward time of change, of struggling to find out who I was, and who my true friends were. Being so tall and lanky, I was teased and teased and teased. Girls seemed to hate me. There were mornings that I would wake up and just start crying because I dreaded facing people at school. Nothing ever became confrontational or physical, it was just a constant mental beating. So when I say that I looked forward to popularity, I really looked forward to it getting people to look at me in a different light. I wanted it so badly, as many young people do.

I'm going on and on, so this is now going to become a two part entry. So stay tuned and I'll have more on my basketball journey in the next couple of days.

Winds of Change

2012-05-17T14:50:00.000-07:00

I wanted to give a little history lesson for all of you. A little background on how I came to the place I am professionally. So sit back and enjoy the ride through my recent professional history...

This goes back to June of last year. I had been working for a company for 5 years, had a position that was challenging, but comfortable. I was the purchasing manager and had been for 3 years, so I can honestly say that I had my processes down, and knew what I was doing. Yes, there were things hat kept me on my toes, but generally I knew each day what was coming, or at least had the experience to know what to do in any situation. I had started at the bottom of the totem pole, and had held various positions in the company as it grew, and as my talents were utilized. I had applied for a few other positions within the company since taking over purchasing, but had stayed in the same place. I was beginning to get frustrated with the fact that I wasn't being considered for other opportunities even when I was proactively asking for mentoring to qualify myself for future opportunities. I had also noticed that many people were drawing conclusions that I didn't do anything all day. I can see how some might have perceived it that way. I'd been established in my processes, and spent most of my day on the phone or ordering things online. I could get things done fast, and that also lead to the illusion that I had lots of spare time. Of course, I was the only one who did the purchasing for the whole company, so my inbox was always full with things to work on.

In May of 2011, I was written up by the COO based on the assumption that I spent too much money with OEM's instead of going through other channels. My most busy time of the day was after 2pm. Orders came in furiously with immediate needs for shipment all over the country. Many of the little vendors were on the east coast, and by 2:30, most of the cutoff times were past for next day delivery. This forced our hand in many cases because the recipients were unwilling or unable to wait an extra day to see if we could get it cheaper. Needless to say, after being written up I was ready to leave.

One day, one of my friends and former neighbors posted about a job at his company. I commented asking about it. From there I went through a whirlwind of interviews, missing time at my current job etc. and eventually received a job offer. The pay and the change of scenery were my biggest deciding factors. So after 5 and a half years, I put in my 2 weeks notice and left a very established, albeit frustrating, position and company. I left for a small company of about 20 employees, working as their payroll manager. I was given the great privilege of managing two other payroll processors who were very experienced and knowledgeable. I was worried how my presence would be welcomed; partly because that comes with any new job, but also because I had no previous experience in payroll at all (aside from receiving a paycheck of course). My fears were unwarranted. My department welcomed me, were nice, and we fast became good friends. That little company had many problems that I wasn't aware of during the interview process, but I still loved it. This was different for me. I was working long hours. Going in early, staying late; missing time with family, and becoming entrenched in the things that needed to be done each day. I enjoyed it, but the stress was growing.

I mentioned that this little company had some issues. Many customers were concerned with the amount of turnover within the company, and this lead them to worry about the stability of the company as a whole. As the new year approached, many clients were leaving us. I was told that this was normal, and that we would be fine. Turnover on an annual basis is normal in that industry. After a couple of our bigger clients left us, I was told that we needed to lay off one of my employees. This happened the week before Christmas. I felt terrible, and was heartbroken that I had to let one of my people go. We arranged for this person to work through the holidays and a week or two into the new year. It wasn't ideal, but it made a crappy situation a little better.

Fast forward to January 12, 2012. I was preparing to take on the clients of my co-worker who was leaving on Friday. I got a call to come into the board room. I was a little suspicious because our HR manager, who had the day off, was there. I was pretty sure it wasn't going to be a good visit. As I sat with these two men who I have great respect for even now, I was filled with peace. In a sense, I knew what was coming, and I was completely fine with it. I was told that due to the losses of so many clients, additional cuts were going to be made. I was going to be one of those let go, and that my last day was the next day, Friday the 13th. As I mentioned before, I knew this was coming. I was not surprised by it at all, and most importantly, I wasn't mad about it. My main worry was, how am I going to tell my wife? I thanked them for the opportunity to work with them, and wished them luck. Heck, I even gave them both a hug. I had grown to love the people there, and that was the only sad part about it; not being able to see and be with them every day.

That phone call to my sweet, supportive wife was a hard one to make. To my relief, she was also calm. She may have felt like freaking out inside, but she never once let it come out. She was a great strength to me because of that. We both felt this was good for our family, and that this would lead us to the place I was meant to be. The place that was best for our family.

I won't go into details right now, but The next 5 months were a refiners fire that would prepare us for the great opportunity ahead. More to come...

Study, Test, Sleep, Repeat

2012-05-11T08:20:00.001-07:00

A quick little note... I have the most supportive family ever! I've been working toward becoming a financial adviser for the past month or two; going to the office, meeting people, and most of all... studying. I've spent every moment of free time at work when I'm not meeting with clients and what not, studying and taking practice tests. I get home and once the kids are in bed, I take more tests. I'm a practice test taking fool! Last night as I completed 4 more tests, I looked at how many questions I have answered over the past couple weeks. Out of 1621 total questions, I only have 372 questions that I have not seen yet. That's a lot of questions! I have got to the point where in my dreams, I am either discussing, testing, or studying about the Series 6 license.

A little on why I have to get all these licenses. I currently have my life and health insurance license, so I can sell those types of insurances. In order to do the financial work that I love, I have to receive licenses to set up accounts, sell securities and so forth. As I've studied and read, I'm quickly learning that the people who write these exams treat things like a club. They make the test as hard as possible in order to keep as many people out as they can. Suffice it to say, they are brutal tests with lots of circular language and tricksy tactics. I've actually taken this test once already, and failed it. I missed the passing mark by 6 questions, 6! Needless to say, I felt like jumping off a bridge that day. With that previous failure, I had to wait for 30 days before I could schedule my test again. That sucked in more ways than one. I mentioned that I've been working every day, meeting with people, gaining clients etc. Well, I love it to death, it's the greatest profession for me. The one kicker though, is that I can't get paid until I have my Series 6 license. Some of you may know that I've been unemployed since January (I'll have a post on that another day). Funds are tight to say the least.

With my previous failure of this test, the heat gets ratcheted up even more. You see, if I were to fail it a second time (I wont), I would not be able to schedule another test for 6 months. So you can imagine the mental game that goes along with my preparations this time. I know this is what I'm supposed to do. I have received the greatest fulfillment from this job so far than I ever have in any other job I've had. I love helping people. I've felt my whole life that I need to help people, and that I'm good at doing that. I have to tell you all, that I love sitting in people's homes talking. Talking about anything really. I've loved talking to people about their goals, their worries, and what is important to them. I love helping people plan. This job provides me with every one of those opportunities, and more.

Well, this "quick little note" became an epistle of sorts. Let me close by saying that my family rocks! Liselle is so great for being patient with me, and supporting me. I know I haven't been 100% there mentally when I'm at home because I've become obsessed with passing this test. I'd like to publicly apologize to her for that now. I'm sure she has asked me many things, or mentioned plans to me, and I've not heard them because of my pre-occupation with this test. I was told long ago that there would be times where I would be studying and working instead of enjoying some of the frills of the world. I truly believe that time is right now especially. I've missed the first few games of my softball league with my good friends. I've elected to study instead of playing my guitar. I've done a lot of those little things lately, but know that I will be able to enjoy them again soon. To any and all who read this, I'm here to help you. You are all in my life because of your goodness, and I'd love to help you in any way I can. Whether it's a visit over lunch, spending time with our families, or discussing your financial goals and concerns, I'm here for you!

A Long Time Ago...

2012-04-16T18:50:00.004-07:00

Let's start at the beginning shall we? I was born to an amazing couple. As the oldest of three, I had the luxury, and the hassle (at times) of going through many of the challenges that face parents for the first time. Looking back, as I am now a father myself, I understand the pressures that come from raising children. I don't really remember much before we moved into the home I grew up in. I remember standing at the fence of our neighbors home and talking to the neighbor kid who was close to my age. Our home was awesome. It wasn't new, it needed work, and didn't have a landscaped yard. I remember playing while my parents worked to clear out the weeds, rocks, and garbage that was in what would become our back yard. From that work, a patch of heaven was created. What used to be weeds and junk, became many things to me throughout my youth. A baseball diamond where I pretended I was Roy Hobbs from "The Natural". I can't count how many times I hit the game winning home run into the stadium lights, running through the sparks as they rained down upon me. I was Joe Montana thousands of times as I lead the 49'ers to many super bowls. In winter time, I was Luke Skywalker on the frozen tundra's of Hoth. My dad and I would throw the baseball, football, shoot hoops, wrestle, fly paper airplanes, and many other cherished memories that shaped the man I am today.

I mentioned that I was the oldest of three kids. We were all close in age, and had a pretty close relationship. Admittedly, I grew closest to my sister. I've often wondered what I could have done to be a better brother and example, especially to my little brother. In my perception, he hasn't been the biggest fan of me. I'm not sure if that's real, or just me being a crazy weirdo, but I've always felt bad that we haven't been super close. I love him with all my heart, and always have and will. I just wish I could get closer to him, and I'm trying to figure out how to do that.

We all had 'sleepovers' in each other's rooms. We made up dances to perform for our parents. We loved going to any function that brought us to our grandma's houses and with our cousins. We fought, yelled, slammed doors, hugged, laughed, and cried together. It truly was the best childhood. This was a result of being close in age to my siblings, but mostly because my parents fostered an environment that we could become, and remain close.

I've always been a very creative kid with a wild imagination. It was no chore for me to make any little activity into any fantasy situation. Think Ralphie from "A Christmas Story". I have always loved Star Wars. I can't tell you why I did, or when it began, but it has always been there. My parents love to tell the story of them calling me to come home from playing and I wouldn't answer or come home until they called me Luke. Again, I was able and encouraged to pretend. To make believe. To create things in my mind. My parents went along with my silliness, and called me by whatever character I said I was on any given day. I loved that they would play along, and would humor me as I told my tales.

My parents were never too busy for us. They took time to spend with us whenever we wanted or needed it. We weren't well off when I was young. I never felt poor, but I now realize just how tough it probably was for them. We never went hungry. We always had food. On top of that, they found ways for us to be able to do kid things. T-ball, soccer, music lessons, and a huge part of my life, basketball. Those things aren't cheap, but if we ever wanted to do something like that, we were never told that it cost too much money or anything like that. In all, my parents taught me that we were important. I have learned that putting others first is always the best practice. There is no way that I could ever express the gratitude I have for the foundation my parents laid for me. Upon this foundation of fostering unity, teaching hard work, sacrificing time, and nurturing imagination, I would learn many valuable lessons that would create the mold for what I would grow into.

Introductions

2012-04-14T19:42:00.005-07:00

Life is full of twists, turns, ups, downs, and everything in between. I felt the need to create this blog to share my life story, my experiences, my ups and downs. From an account of what has lead me to where I am today, through current experiences and beyond.

I decided to call this blog "confessions of a rich poor guy" because, up to this point, I have not been the richest man monetarily. I've worked hard, and been able to provide for my family all while giving Liselle (my sweet wife) the freedom to stay home with the kids if she so desired. All the while, having the worry of providing for my loved ones on a single, low income. We only had one car for our family for seven years. That little nugget alone made people ask us how we did it. The answer was always simple, "we can't afford a second car payment right now, so we just make due with what we have."

On the flip side of the poor guy comment, I truly feel so rich. No I don't eat steak for dinner every night, or drive a luxury sedan. We don't have a big screen TV. We don't have cable or satellite. What we do have is a family that loves each other and sticks together. We have our moments of course. Kids act out, stress builds, and we get upset. All in all, we have some of the greatest treasures known to man. Up until recently, I've longed for a profession that gave me fulfillment. I worked many hours, learned new things, and was professional in all I did. Still, I was missing that sense of having helped someone who really benefited from what I did. Through all those years, I finally came to the realization that I did actually help others. My family.

So let the journey begin. All I hope to accomplish through this blog is to help just one person to know that they matter. That even though you may feel lost, alone, undervalued, or just get down from time to time; you are worth something beyond dollar value. As you join in this journey with me, the more we will discover our true worth, and become "rich poor guys" together.