Christmas Is Good To Me

Christmas has always been remarkable good to me. OK - that first Christmas after I met Jeanne was a little rough. That was the time I called on Christmas day to talk to Jeanne (a mere month after we had met). Her little brother Michael answered the phone and went screaming through the house, "it's Rodger on the phone, it's Rodger on the phone." I took that as a pretty positive sign but when Jeanne got on the phone she sounded a little down. "What's the matter?," I asked. "I was just hoping you'd call me on my birthday," she replied. I'd actually thought of calling her on her birthday, December 18th, but decided I couldn't afford two phone calls and opted to call on Christmas day. Of course, if I'd known then what I do now, that her birthday often got overlooked with all the Christmas preparations going on, the choice would have been obvious - call on her birthday. Well, in response to her vain hope of the birthday call I explained the one call decision and said, "Guess I should have called on your birthday," to which she replied a rather curt, "How about both days." So, o.k., that Christmas didn't get us off to a very great start, but pretty much ever since then every Christmas has been great. There's been the little glitches. I was telling my dad tonight about the time Jeanne and I looked at each other at about 11:30p on Christmas eve and said, "We're done - it's an all-time record, 11:30p and we can go to bed." On the way to bed, Jeanne said, "didn't you get a bike for somebody?" Well the bike was still in a box in the garage, and any of you who know me know that at my best, I don't put things together all that great and at midnight, after putting Christmas together all night, putting anything else together was near impossible. 11:30p turned into 2:30a before I knew it, so it turned out not to be a record after all (actually, it might have been the latest Christmas Eve ever). But, those little things aside, Christmas has been a special time in our home, a wonderful time, filled with happiness and contentment, very little complaint, lots of games and fun and strangers, and family and food and JOY. I've thought more than once it's certainly been more than I deserved and how did it ever turn out to be so good. Well, the answer to that became apparent last night. After 31 years of marriage, during which Jeanne and I have been at least above average communicators, I found out the secret to all of our great Christmases and I've got a picture to prove it.




So, I live with Mrs. Santa. It doesn't change anything. I'm as committed as ever and don't even think my expectations for a Christmas present have changed, it's just one of those little life surprises that you smile about and keep on going. Besides, she's a pretty darn good looking Mrs. Santa at that.

Emmy Got A Haircut

Under normal circumstances, I'd leave this kind of a post to Emily. After all, it is HER haircut. But here's the rub - she ask me to take pictures of the new "doo" so she could show all her friends. So I did, but, horror of horrors, she did not like them. So what does she do? She takes a few self-portraits with her phone for all I know and posts those. So, as an outlet for the deep hurt of being disrespected at such an extreme level, I am posting the pictures I took of the haircut. Oh, and by the way, she (Emily) is VERY cute.

First Snow In PA

Snow has come early in PA. It wasn't really forecast. But it came anyway. Like everything else, the unexpected has it's goods and it's bads. In this case it's beautiful and it's cold. And here is what differentiates people in life - you may either focus on the good, focus on the bad, or just miss it altogether. That said, let me say, IT'S BEAUTIFUL! Oh, and Ray Little and I are going to have a great time at the Penn State - Michigan State game today (a great chance to bundle up and thank God for new technology in the clothing industry).I can't recall ever seeing this contrast before - the fresh snow and the brightly colored leaves. For some unexplainable reason the Beech tree leaves are exceptionally brightly colored this fall and seem all that much more colorful against the snow.Last night's sunset reminded me of another reason why we willingly trade the summer's warmth for the winter's cold - the sky. I was reminded of all the times on Sunday afternoons when Kelly and I would go out on photo safaris. Only in the winter, with the sun low in the sky and the temperature inversions and whatever else contributes do we get the color and feeling in the sky. On this evening, Jeanne and I were on our way to do some Christmas shopping (yes, we are very on top of things this year) when the sky appeared and I asked if it would be ok to stop for a minute to take some pictures. Of course, she's heard "a minute" way too many times to know "a minute" can sometimes turn into thirty, and, of course, she's very loving and supportive of my picture taking, so she intelligently responded, "sure, but I need to go to the bathroom pretty bad." She knows me well enough that my concern for her would take precedence over pictures (one of the few things) so it really was only a couple minutes. The tracks heading into the setting sun reminded me of movies when I was a child which almost all ended with someone "riding into the sunset." So this is my version of that.
Just in parting, remember to occasionally look back, there may be something you're missing.

Harvest Moon

Just in case you ever wondered what a harvest moon is - there's your answer (the full moon nearest the time of the autumnal equinox). Now, you may wonder, "How did Rodger know that?" Aside from the fact that I'm "the smartest dad in the world," this is a small story of the true value of sport.

Developing team building characteristics, learning to work hard, taking personal and group responsibility, experiencing the exhilaration of being your best, overcoming fear, growing incrementally stronger (I could go on) have always been the upside of being involved in sport. I've been a fan - but no longer count myself as such (with the possible exception of BYU football). By accident I discovered another advantage of sport.

Tuesday night I had to cut some pictures I had printed. The paper cutter was downstairs. I rarely watch TV anymore but figured since I was in the room there may as well be some background noise, and it turned out to be baseball. Baseball is not a fast game. It has long, actionless intervals during which announcers need to fill dead air. On this particular night, the moon began to rise over some stadium (I believe Pittsburgh) and one of the announcers began to explain why the moon appeared so large and what a harvest moon is. That motivated me to get up, grab my camera, go outside and take the above picture. Suppose it's no wonder why sport is such an American staple.

The Mower and Straight Lines- A Parable

There was a middle-aged man mowing his lawn on his riding mower. It was late in the season. There hadn't been much rain. It was late in the day. The sun was low in the sky casting long, sometimes confusing (though beautiful) shadows. Although the lawn was generally not long, the few spots that were made it look scruffy, so it needed a trim. It was even a bit dry and brown in some spots but would definitely look better mowed.

As the man mowed he noticed how hard it was to see where he should go. The reason it was hard to know where to go next was because it was hard to see where he had been. Since most of the grass was not long there was no clear path created by mowing it.

The man thought if he slowed down and mowed more carefully he could do a good job and not miss any spots. This worked for a while but the man became concerned how much time it would take to mow since he had so many other things that needed attending in his life. He wished for a way he could go faster and still be sure not to miss any spots.

Then he turned a corner and the sun shone just right on his path, not for a long time but long enough to realize that the path he had cut before had been a straight line and if he just went straight, no matter what happened to the light, he would mow exactly where he should. This was a great insight and he was happy and confident - for a moment.

Then in front of him loomed the darkness of the shadow cast by the huge Copper Elm. The man could not see anything under the tree. It was impossible to see the right path. He began to fear. Immediately the man thought of straight lines - if he could just keep his line straight in the darkness, when he emerged in the light he would still be on the right path. He began to feel confident again and looked up. It was then he saw the light beyond the shadow and the straight line of the path leading from the shadow into the light. In his mind he could connect the lines on each side of the shadow, because they were straight, and drive through the darkness without fear, knowing he would be on the right path when he got back in the light. And that's just what happened.

When he was done he thought of the importance of making straight paths. He'd never much thought that knowing where he had been could help him know where to go next, on the lawn, or in life, but now he knew the straighter the path he forged the easier and better it would make life in the future. He thought about how sometimes he had to walk into the darkness, with faith, knowing the light would reappear and how sometimes he had feared. Now he knew that if he were walking straight paths, there would be no fear in the dark because he could stay on the right path until the light reappeared. He thought how this applied particularly to him, in his middle-age, a little late in life just as it had been late in the season for the grass. While a lot of new grass was not growing, it still needed to be tended to and the very fact that it wasn't growing so fast made it actually more difficult to see the path, but that life's pace could be kept brisk if he were walking in straight lines. He thought, as he was drifting off to sleep, how nice it would be if the grass just never needed to be mowed, then he wouldn't need to worry about paths at all, but figured as he drifted off to sleep, that won't happen because there definitely won't be any astroturf or turf of any sort in heaven. He was content.

Musings on Macro-relevancy and Paying Attention

One of the issues associated with being released from a calling is"relevancy." Having been released as bishop two years ago there's a nagging and continuing question of whether I'm contributing. Of course any feelings of irrelevance are relative, not objective, since the experience of being a bishop will never disappear (and doesn't seem to even fade that much). With me, the feelings are not exactly new. I still remember talking about doing "big" things around Papa Bob, wondering, for example, how fixing people's windshields was making much of a contribution to the world (why couldn't I have become a doctor instead of a businessman), and he would consistently ask, "Are you doing your hometeaching?" And, it really does come down to that. God's world is a world of individuals. HE would never hesitate to leave the flock and go find the one, so the whole feeling of "macro relevancy" is flawed in the first place. For example, I'm so impressed with Byron Shaffer, the bishop who preceded me. He finds people to visit and just does it, no assignment, usually no stewardship, just out loving people one at a time, and that's enough, for him and them. Still, it doesn't make relevancy go away for me, flawed or not. (Another of my many life problems, making irrelevance seem relevant.) Anyway, since being released Jeanne and I have tried to keep doing worthwhile things - we still provide our basement for seminary every morning and I make it a point to take the students to school. And that brings me to "life lesson" of the day.

Several days ago, backing out of the garage with a car full of seminary students on the way to school, Ian Raleigh, who was sitting in the front passenger seat commented as we exited the garage, "Wow, that was close." He was referencing the distance between the sideview mirrors and the wall of the garage door opening.


There is generally about two inches on each side if you are well centered, but I tend to come as close as possible to the drivers side, knowing that if it's inside two inches all will be well on the passenger side.

"I've got it mastered," was my response, immediately picturing the scratches on each of the sideview mirrors from coming too close, "as long as I pay attention," came the addition. The words seemed profound as soon as they came out. Does that ever happen to you? You say some seemingly innocuous thing only to have your own words strike you like a hammer?

Ian and I spoke all the way to school on the gospel lessons associated with backing the Honda Pilot out of the garage. We decided no matter how good you got at keeping some commandment, you still have to pay attention. No matter how secure you feel in your understanding of the Gospel, you still have to do the "pay attention" things, like read the scriptures and pray and go to church, etc. And, we decided that sometimes you SCRATCH the mirrors, it just happens, even when you are seemingly paying attention, and at times like that you realize there will be a little pain associated with getting them fixed (money for paint jobs, repentance for sins) because no scratched mirrors can get into heaven. They can be made perfect though, whether at the body shop or through Christ's atonement.

Hope that helps somebody out there, it's helping me right now. Thanks Ian. Thanks God.

Weddings - Yikes

It was a busy but fun and rewarding week in the picture business. Again, miracles do happen and so does fun and growth. As you can see, the DC temple is a beautiful place. Unfortunately, they are doing construction around the ENTIRE temple so you just have to get your angles so the construction isn't visible. The above was taken from the back of the parking lot with my 18-200 zoom (somewhere in the middle) and turned out pretty nice. Anyway, the main point about weddings is, I'm really comfortable with one, or two, or maybe even three people, but when it comes to 40, the inadequacy starts to creep in! And that's where prayer and miracles come into play.
I honestly wanted these sweet kids to have memorable pictures and prayed hard that some of them would turn out. To be honest, I was worried on the way home whether I had any good ones.
Then my friend Becky Bruckner called while I was driving home from the temple after shooting the Hunter-McDonald wedding. I told her how I had prayed and she said, "I'll pray for you too." I said, "Isn't a bit late for that?" "Is it ever too late for God?" She helped me remember, instantaneously, that all things are possible with God. So, even if all the images on the card in my camera were bad, a prayer, even at this point, could change all that.
Well, thankfully, there were some good ones and they were very happy with the results.
Of course, that's not the end of the story. The reception was in New Bloomfield, about an hour from home. Jeanne agreed to come with me so we could spend a little time together, and it was a fun ride up. We arrived before the wedding party, who had been delayed and arrived 1/2 hour after the reception was to start. It would be a bit of a late night.
We were about ready to go, so Jeanne said she'd meet me in the car. She had put my camera bags in the kitchen so they'd be out of the way. As I was leaving the wedding party requested a few additional shots, so it took me longer to get to the car than anticipated, and I was in a bit of a hurry. I jumped in the car. We drove the hour home and arrived at 10:15p. On arrival, it became apparent I had left all me camera gear in the kitchen in New Bloomfield and I needed to be at the temple the next day at 1p. I dreaded the drive back up early in the morning to retrieve it, especially since I'd promised John Williamson, I'd help with some family pictures at 8:30a and had made arrangements with Tina to enter the mansion. Well, Molly McDonald, the bride, is about the sweetest person in creation. She made sure that her brother somehow got the gear to someone (Kristen Malasky) who was going to the temple the next day and I was saved the drive. I still had the D300 with me, so the miracle was complete, I was able to help John out the next morning and geet plenty of sleep.
Of course, I was still concerned about taking decent pictures.
Surprise, surprise, the next day was easier than the first. Must have learned something from day one because the whole posing and organizing the group seemed to go much better.
It was a beautiful day at the temple, about 80 degrees, not too humid, sun conditions a bit harsh, but a bit better than the day before as it was slightly later in the day.




You'd never know there was dirt and construction two feet in front and on both sides. Once again, give God the glory, things turned out just fine!