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Technology is both wonderful and frustrating, or you might say wonderfully frustrating. When it works, life goes on without a thought, but when it fails, dark storm clouds gather and often anger ensues. Perhaps one of the greatest ironies of technology is that we seem to have the most difficulties using it when we most need it.

This was the case this morning. I was trying to print something for my friend and it wasn't working. "What's up with that?" I asked myself, "my roommate used my printer yesterday and it worked just fine!" After trying several different things--and to no avail--I decided to try and print from my phone. That worked, but the font was too small to read. Then an idea popped in my head, "I should restart my computer." That's not a novel idea, but often that seems to help solve the problem, so I restarted my computer.

Upon starting up, updates needed to be installed. I waited a bit impatiently, until the computer finished. Before I could even open the document to try printing again, the printer made some noise and started to print! The solution was so simple, but it took me a while to figure out that I needed to give that a try. When it comes to malfunctioning technology, I have learned that often times restarting is the best solution.

So what's the connection? How can this be a parable for our lives? I want to hear from you! Post below to share your ending to this parable.

Tying the Knot

If you thought this blog post was about marriage, (and I thought you might) it's not! Now that you're here and reading, I will reapply this phrase to a parable about furniture. A few weeks ago I decided to buy a black folding chair to use with my desk. After sitting on it for a couple of days, I realized that I needed something a little more comfortable. So I bought a memory foam chair pad to put on top, which has worked quite well. The only problem is, the chair is slippery, and the pad will fall off easily unless it's tied down. Thankfully, the pad has ties at the back, so I can tie to the chair. Until yesterday I had tied a simple overhand loop to both sides, which worked, but about once a day it would get loose and I'd have to tie it again. I was tired of doing this, so I determined to try a different knot, shown here:

You probably recognize this knot--it's the same one most of us use to tie our shoes. Twenty four hours later I haven't had to tie it again! Perhaps it's too early to make a conclusive statement, but I think my problem is solved, or at least greatly reduced.

My experience with this chair and pad applies in a broader sense to life in general. Finding what works best is a process. It takes trial and error, ingenuity and fortitude, thought and action. In short, we can't expect things to be perfect from the start. Give it some time and effort. Work to make things better than they were. If one type of knot doesn't do the trick, find one that does. Realize that this is one important way God intends us to learn: from experience.

Pouring Rain

I thought I had seen pouring rain. I was wrong. Yesterday, I witnessed a new category of rainfall. Several people had forewarned me about the rain in Texas, and I am glad that I didn't get caught outside during the storm. Check out this video I took yesterday.

The common saying "when it rains, it pours" is true not only in Texas. In fact, I think it is true in all aspects of our lives. Sometimes things are good. Other times, difficulties and bad news seem to pile up one right after another, or in my case it's more like lectures, information, and opportunities gather into an overwhelming heap. My experience in life so far has taught me two things about such storms.

1. Although difficult, there is always something that can be enjoyed from these experiences. Go dance in that rain or be mesmerized by the constant drips from heaven.

2. Although difficult, good things can come of a storm--if not now, then eventually they will. I like how the song writer Kenneth Cope puts it:

     Broken clouds give rain
     Broken soil grows grain
     Broken bread feeds man for one more day

     Broken storms yield light
     The break of day heals night
     Broken pride turns blindness into sight

     Broken souls that need His mending
     Broken hearts for offering
     Could it be that God loves broken things

My answer would be yes, He does! These are my thoughts from experiencing the pouring rain.

The Sorting Hat

Good news, I'm officially an MS1! Most of you are probably wondering, "what does that mean?" It stands for first year medical student. This past week I attended orientation, which was packed with meetings, socializing, and a weekend retreat. There are about 240 students in my class--the class of 2018. It is such an honor to be where I am. UT Southwestern is an excellent school and my classmates are really cool and diverse people. In several of the meetings this week, I heard about the importance of professionalism and integrity, humility and honesty, and empathy and altruism. During one of these discussions, I realized that the virtues of the ideal doctor fit so closely with what the gospel of Jesus Christ teaches us we should become. I am excited to be part of a profession that is focused on service, education, and becoming.

One of the highlights of my week was the colleges meeting. UT Southwestern has a cool program where medical students are divided into smaller groups, called colleges, to help us learn clinical skills and build camaraderie. On Friday evening at the retreat we lined up in two single-file lines and walked silently to an outdoor amphitheater, where we listened to a physician give us some advice for our journey through medicine. Then we were assigned (or perhaps better said "sorted") into one of six colleges. My name was read pretty early on, so it was fun to see who else would join my college. I am excited to be a part of Seldin College, which is named after Dr. Donald Seldin--who was instrumental in shaping UT Southwestern into the premier academic medical center it is today. Our college color is green and our mascot is a quarter (that's a story for another time).

Okay, time for the parable. A long time ago each of us, you and I, attended a meeting that we don't currently recall. Sometimes we call it the counsel in heaven. Although we don't know many of the details, we know from scripture that God presented His plan for us, Jesus was chosen as the Savior, and we chose to follow Him. Consequently we were offered the chance to come to earth, to receive a body, and to become something infinitely greater. We were excited at this opportunity and found able to rise to it. So, when difficulty arises, in medical school or elsewhere, you and I can find strength by remembering this truth taught by Elder Neal A. Maxwell, "When we have been weighed and found wanting, let us remember that we were measured before and were found equal to our tasks."

Going to School

I just finished reading an interesting and insightful biography called I Will Lead You Along: The Life of Henry B. Eyring. Near the end of this book, there was an analogy mentioned by President Eyring's wife, Kathy. I want to share it in a story format of my own making, written from the perspective of my mother. While I'm certainly not a mother, or even a father, I am a son, and I understand a little of how mothers feel at sending their children off.

Today is the day. Today Lance will begin his formal schooling. My, how the last few years have flown! It doesn't seem that long ago that I was changing his diapers and giving him sponge baths, and now my baby is growing up and going to school! Okay, I've got his backpack ready and his lunch made. Am I missing anything? "Lance," I yell upstairs, "the bus will be here soon. Are you ready yet?" There he is--my little toe-headed kindergartner. I wonder what his first day of school will bring. Hopefully the other kids will play nice and his teacher will be patient and caring. Whew, I thought giving birth was hard--and it was--but I didn't really see this day coming. Oh there's the bus! "We don't want to miss it," I insist, and we run out the front door. As we wait, I turn to Lance, bend down, and say, "now remember, stay on the bus until you get to school, and after school is over, get on bus 29 and wait until you see our street. I'll be waiting outside for you so that you don't miss it, okay?" He nods affirmatively, and the bus pulls up. Lance jumps in and joins the other kids. "Have a great day!" I shout after him. I watch as the bus drives off, waving until I can no longer see my son. A tear rolls down my face and I realize that a part of my heart and soul has left. Thankfully, it will only be 6 hours until he comes home. I think I can handle that, but how will I do it all over again tomorrow?!

In this story, what was my mother most concerned about? Was it how school would go? Of course, she was worried about that, and wanted me to learn all sorts of new and valuable things, but what was really the most important thing she wanted me to know? How to get home.

In a parallel moment, I imagine God sending us to earth, knowing of the great and trying experiences that lay ahead, but remember, He wants us to come home. In His eyes, that knowledge is the most important thing we need to learn. Regardless of what we learn about chemistry, physics, medicine, or whatever else, none of that will matter if we don't make it home--back to God's presence. This plan, the plan to bring us all home, is called the gospel of Jesus Christ. It is the most important thing we can learn about. It brings purpose, direction, and peace in a world of confusion. If we follow it, we will make it home.

One of my favorite songs is based on this idea of going home: I Am a Poor Wayfaring Stranger. I wrote a fourth verse to this song. Here are the words:

And on that day, I'll stand before Him. 

Dressed in white, clean and pure. 

He'll welcome me into His kingdom. 

Where I shall dwell forever more.