A [large] fall of rain

It's been a long time since I've written.

And it's been a long, somewhat stressful week. I'm not really sure why -- I think I've been less busy (as far as work projects with short deadlines go)...but between work, school, playing with the goober, and other "extra curricular" activities I'm involved in, I've felt pretty thinly stretched.

Listened to Jill last night as she finished preparations for her Relief Society lesson on pride.

Then today I succumb to one of the many manifestations of pride and became judgmental, standoffish, and a little defensive during an experience at church. I was trying really hard to not be those things... but I thought the "process" and execution was awkward, and thought of ways I'd do it "better"; I was listening half-heartedly and providing minimal responses; and answered some questions evasively because I imputed perceived motives into the scenario.

Now, I don't think I was outright rude [that wasn't my intention], but I know I could have responded with a better attitude.

Later that day we had dinner with some new friends in the ward, and at one point in our conversation the person (with whom I had met earlier) came up. I learned a little more about them as a person, and could then (re)view today's experience--and several past experiences--in a new light. The "execution" of our interaction and what I perceived as awkwardness seemed to make more sense in this new context. It's still awkward, but I can feel less abrasive(?) towards it--and learn to expect and accept it.

I should probably be able to get to that point without needing to know all the "contexts" of interpersonal communications/interactions, but understanding a little more has changed me (I hope) for future interactions.

<br>-<br/>
[something I've picked up from work, I think it comes from the procedures I've linked. People use it when they're shifting subjects in conversation, e.g., finishing up one though. "break break" starting a new thought]

The car has been covered in pollen and dust, as all the blossoms and blooming trees weep onto our car.

And it's been really hot.

<br>-<br/>

I'm sitting here writing up these thoughts, as Jill feeds CJ and sings to her "Families Can Be Together Forever".

And I realize, although I've been a little high-strung lately, life is pretty great. I have an amazing wife, and a beautiful little baby that I can't get enough of.

Outside, a huge thunderstorm is rolling through the area, and "a [large] fall of rain" is washing away...
...Washing away the pollen from our car.
...Washing away the dust on the road.
...Washing away.

Soon, the fresh, clean smell of the "earth right after rain" will come wafting through our windows.

And I'm reminded of an event, long ago, that allows me to wash away the goof ups in my life...
...A fresh start, to a new day.

Trying to be just a little better, one day at a time. We'll see how it goes.

###
One of the songs we sang today; I'm especially moved by the final verse.

"My Savior Lives"
Words by Gary Croxall*
Music by Kathleen Holyoak

My Savior lives forever more.
He is my Lord, O come adore.

Whene'er I thirst, He gives me drink.
My hungry soul He feeds.

And in my hour of greatest need,
He hastens to His sheep.

Jesus lives. My Savior lives.

Though oceans rage and winds may blow,
My Savior lives, O this I know.

He stills the storm and calms the sea.
The Lord of Galilee

Upon the water walks to me,
His helping hand to give.

He lives. My Savior lives.

My Shepherd kind, He knows my name.
Christ calls to me, wheree'r I stray.

And if I'm lost
with love divine,

He searches for me, Not resting 'til His lamb He finds.
I'll live because He lives.

He lives. My Savior lives.

When I am bound and held by chains,
He'll wipe each tear and take each pain.

He'll ease my grief;
restore my soul,

On wings again to soar, That may rise eternally.
In Him I'm truly free.

He lives.
He lives.
My Savior lives!

###

* My apologies to the author; I haven't seen the text written anywhere other than in the music, so this is my non-English major/poetically immature attempt to put it in stanzas.