Is That Fair?

I have been wondering of late what is fair. Many complain that what is happening to them is not fair. I hear people say it just isn't fair that so many seem to be doing better than they are. Others complain that life isn't fair. I heard someone this morning complaining at the check out counter that an item they were purchasing at the hardware store was not fairly priced. It seems everyone has a legitimate complaint about something, and much of the strife in the world can be traced to the inherent inequities we all confront.

The Christus

Imagine what a different world it would be if we accepted the premise that life just isn't fair. Trying to adjudicate fairness never seems to work out. What may seem fair to you will often not meet with another's definition. It's how arguments break out, even among family members and the best of friends. Isn't it curious how often we are put in a situation when what is perfectly reasonable to us may be unfair to the other party? Some are simply gifted musically, whereas others are not and couldn't carry a tune in a bucket if you handed them the bucket to make it easier. Some are stunningly beautiful, whereas the vast majority of us are just plain looking. Some have inherited vast sums of money, and appear to live with ease and prosperity through little or no effort on their part, whereas the world attests that the bulk of humankind is compelled to work hard for their living without the privilege of inherited wealth. How is any of this "fair?"

I confess I do not understand how anything associated with mortality is fair. Isn't that why it is a perfect laboratory? We are here to be tested, to be proven faithful, and to grow spiritually in the face sometimes of seemingly insurmountable odds. God's infinite and eternal plan of happiness depends upon us accepting the premise of fundamental unfairness. Parents sometimes favor one child over another, especially those who are inherently obedient and cheerful to be around. I often wonder if God has His favorite children. I'll bet He isn't unlike us - He has to love obedience in the face of obstacles and insurmountable odds. Is He always fair in the treatment of His children? Does He not promise "all that I have" to each repentant child? 

Christ in Gethsemane

Was anything fair about how the Savior was treated in morality? Was His crucifixion fair? Did He forgive those who murdered Him? As they drove nails into His hands, His wrists and His feet did anyone at the scene apply a fairness test of any kind?

He loves us "unconditionally," we often say to each other, but is that really true? There are conditions to inheriting all that the Father hath. He offers five laws to us, and invites us to covenant with Him to obey those laws: The law of obedience, the law of sacrifice, the law of the gospel, the law of chastity, and the law of consecration. We are promised that exactness and honor in keeping our covenants will keep us on the path leading to eternal life after our sojourn in mortality is complete. The crowning covenant is the sealing covenant between a man and a woman in one of the holy temples, and those children born into such a covenant home are said to be "born under the covenant." If there is fairness in this plan, it is that those who died before obtaining those blessings in mortality may have the opportunity for a full inheritance in the spirit world. We who remain here may obtain those blessings for our kindred dead through proxy representation for them, and they are free to accept that work and inherit exactly what we are promised.

Sometimes our journey in mortality is cut short by our calculations. I am not one of those whose life was shortened, indeed my recovery from debilitating brain surgery was declared a 100% cure and my life has been extended. It was nothing short of miraculous. Is it "fair" that my life continues where others' lives are ended prematurely? Is it fair that I had access to an extremely talented and experienced brain surgeon, where others may not have been so favorably situated? Are miracles handed out by God based on some unknown arbitration system? Can anyone apply? Who is blessed with a miracle, when others are not?

I for one can accept the fundamental inequities and seemingly unfair outcomes of mortality. I love to observe the way in which people grapple with their tests in life. I am inspired by the stories of those who overcome and produce positive examples for all the rest of us to emulate. 

As I watched the snow continue to pile up this winter, and continued to burn what seemed to be an inexorable pile of cash to plow the road leading to our home, there were times when I have to admit I became discouraged. Others chipped in to allay the burden it represented, but in my down moments I often reminded myself, "The sun always wins." I could extend that to, "The Son always wins." Indeed, the snow is yielding finally under the bright spring sun. 

Christ Conquered Death

And the Son's love and supreme example continues to shine down upon us poor mortals to warm us up, give us renewed hope of better days to come, and assure us of eternal life if we do our best to obey and to claim His redemptive sacrifice that wipes out our imperfections and all the unfairness we encounter.

I love the Savior Jesus Christ, come what may. He always wins.

In Tribute to Patsy Hewlett Goates

Merilee and Patsy Goates

This week I've been living with two of my favorite women under one roof - my wife and our youngest daughter, Merilee. I realize in this circumstance three's a crowd, and I gladly accept my fate as a husband and father. They've been having way too much fun together, and I'm not about to spoil that by demanding equal time from either one.

We've been doing a lot of celebrating around here lately. Our 40th grandchild, Emma Lynn Goates, was blessed and received a father's blessing from her father, Andrew, last Sunday. She completes another circle of four generations of women in our family! We gathered in sacrament meeting where she was blessed and for a brunch following that coincided with Emma Lynn's mother's graduation from BYU. Congratulations Jessica!

Jessica, Peggy, Emma Lynn, Patsy

En route to the meeting, Merillee and BBF Kate got lost in Orem trying to find the building. After several attempts and text messages and conversations on cell phones trying to guide her to the meeting, they gave up and parked the car awaiting a rescue when the meeting was over. Her final text was classic, and provided an object lesson that will serve her well in the mission field: "We're tired of wandering around in circles, and we're lost. Will you PLEASE just come and find us and rescue us and show us the way back to Andrew's home when the meeting is over?"

Jessica, Emma Lynn, Andrew

The reason the object lesson is so profound is that Merilee will depart next week as the eighth missionary from our family for the Missionary Training Center in Provo, prior to her departure to the Washington D.C. South Mission, headquartered in Virginia. I reminded Merilee to treasure up in her heart the feelings she had as a lost soul, because it will help her identify with so many potential converts she will encounter on her mission.

It's all about perspective, and no one understood "perspective" better than Joseph Smith, unless it was the Savior Himself. Incarcerated against his will and falsely accused, Joseph Smith languished through the bitter cold winter months of 1838-39 in his dungeon temple - a Missouri hell hole ironically named Liberty Jail.

Liberty Jail

From his pen flowed these incredible words that follow, later canonized as scripture. These words illustrate the lofty revelatory heights to which an itinerant unlearned plow boy had risen in a few short years. One cannot read these words today and fail to be impressed with the prophetic insight Joseph possessed. The false claims and outrageous bigotry still raging today against him and The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints will someday have its end, but for the moment we can stand in awe of his prophetic tone:

And all that are in the magazines, and in the encyclopedias, and all the libelous histories that are published, and are writing, and by whom, and present the whole concatenation of diabolical rascality and nefarious and murderous impositions that have been practised upon this people —

That we may not only publish to all the world, but present them to the heads of government in all their dark and hellish hue, as the last effort which is enjoined on us by our Heavenly Father, before we can fully and completely claim that promise which shall call him forth from his hiding place; and also that the whole nation may be left without excuse before he can send forth the power of his mighty arm.

It is an imperative duty that we owe to God, to angels, with whom we shall be brought to stand, and also to ourselves, to our wives and children, who have been made to bow down with grief, sorrow, and care, under the most damning hand of murder, tyranny, and oppression, supported and urged on and upheld by the influence of that spirit which hath so strongly riveted the creeds of the fathers, who have inherited lies, upon the hearts of the children, and filled the world with confusion, and has been growing stronger and stronger, and is now the very mainspring of all corruption, and the whole earth groans under the weight of its iniquity.

It is an iron yoke, it is a strong band; they are the very handcuffs, and chains, and shackles, and fetters of hell.

Therefore it is an imperative duty that we owe, not only to our own wives and children, but to the widows and fatherless, whose husbands and fathers have been murdered under its iron hand;

Which dark and blackening deeds are enough to make hell itself shudder, and to stand aghast and pale, and the hands of the very devil to tremble and palsy.

And also it is an imperative duty that we owe to all the rising generation, and to all the pure in heart —


For there are many yet on the earth among all sects, parties, and denominations, who are blinded by the subtle craftiness of men, whereby they lie in wait to deceive, and who are only kept from the truth because they know not where to find it —


Therefore, that we should waste and wear out our lives in bringing to light all the hidden things of darkness, wherein we know them; and they are truly manifest from heaven —


These should then be attended to with great earnestness.

Let no man count them as small things; for there is much which lieth in futurity, pertaining to the saints, which depends upon these things.

You know, brethren, that a very large ship is benefited very much by a very small helm in the time of a storm, by being kept workways with the wind and the waves.

Therefore, dearly beloved brethren, let us cheerfully do all things that lie in our power; and then may we stand still, with the utmost assurance, to see the salvation of God, and for his arm to be revealed. (D&C 123:5-17, emphasis mine).

Despite the opposition, we are still in a season of gathering, and it is a prolonged season because of the patience of God. We are gathering the gatherers still, searching for the predominant blood of the sons of Israel flowing in the veins of the descendants of Joseph's sons, Ephraim and Manasseh. It is "believing blood." They are the good people of the earth who are searching to be reclaimed from their fallen and lost condition and to be brought into the light of the fullness of the restored gospel. They are lost and we know the way. They want it, but they simply do not yet know where to find it.

Merilee and all those 56,000 missionaries like her scattered throughout the earth today, will lead them one by one into the light, point the way to happiness now and everlasting joy eternally. She will lead them into the light and when they meet her they will find the missing piece in their lives explaining their mortal condition in simple and cogent terms even a child can understand. She will help lead them home to the stakes of Zion where safety and hope abide in the midst of a chaotic world gone mad. Oh, did I mention she's going to the belly of THAT beast in Washington D. C.? I love that part. . .

The other significant event this week was Patsy's birthday. I titled this post as a tribute to her. I am so grateful for this magnificent woman. As we sat at dinner with her mother the other night, I commented that the best thing her mother did in this life was giving birth to this choice daughter whom I married for time and for all eternity on a December morning many moons ago. She has welcomed thirteen choice and extraordinary children - one at a time. For twenty years she was bearing children. We once calculated the number of months (including miscarriages) she had been pregnant. It was a large number we have both blissfully forgotten as we entered grand-parenthood.

Together we have coached an All-Star team of superstars. We have walked together through sunshine and shadows. Each child is a unique creation, so similar in their extraordinary spiritual gifts, but so divergent in personality, temperament and talents. When asked which we love best, the simplest answer is whoever we're with at the moment.

We used to think we loved them so much when we were all together as a nuclear family, but as we now bid farewell to our youngest and we have witnessed the addition of spouses who outshine even our children, and they have in turn welcomed 40 grandchildren into the mix, we cannot say more than "our cup truly runneth over."

As a husband and father, it is Patsy to whom I owe everything in the joy and realization of all these supernal blessings. I've always said she did the heavy lifting on the homefront, and I did the easy part - I got to go off to work every day. Giving herself as she has through all these years to me, her children and now her grandchildren is what she has excelled at.

When we were younger and having our family, we were often reminded about how wicked the world was, and we were questioned routinely about whether bringing so many children into such a wicked world was well-advised. Now that they are grown, we can refer our critics to each of our children and have them ask, "Are you happy to be in such a wicked world, or would you have been better off never being born?"

I'm hoping they would all answer that mortal life has been considered a gift, having a physical body enshrouding their eternal spirit is a blessing, and the prospects of eternal life despite all the opposition is worth it all. Only as we bring children into this world and become parents ourselves do we begin to grasp the significance of the great plan of happiness. As a grandfather in my advancing years, I am only now beginning to understand the full implications of the word, "FATHER."

There's a magnet on our refrigerator door in the kitchen, bearing words from an unknown author:

"Yesterday is History,
Tomorrow a Mystery,
Today is a Gift,
That's why it's called the Present."

Every day for the next eighteen months, Sister Merilee Goates will give a gift of inestimable worth to the lost souls she encounters - she will give a present of herself as she has never given before.

Every day of her life, my beloved companion Patsy has given me a present of inestimable worth - the gift of herself. She has demonstrated that in the giving - only in the giving - is the getting.

So today, I pay homage to the two women under my roof, and in the case of the younger we wish her well as she embarks on her latest adventure.

To the older, I owe everything. Thank you Patsy.

What 100% Looks Like

Submitted by today's guest blogger:


There is a great scene in the Bill Murray classic, "The Man Who Knew Too Little." In this scene the oblivious Murray, playing the clueless Wally Ritchey, believes he is acting in an elaborate audience participation drama, despite being a real-life hostage. At one point, after accidentally knocking his captors unconscious, Murray criticizes their lack of effort with the words,"Come on! Ya have to give it 100%. Let me show you what 100% looks like." He then, while tied to a chair and his hands tied behind his back, flops down onto the ground, digs out the knife from one captor's sleeve and cuts himself loose.

Growing up playing sports, I thought I knew a little something about giving 100%. In fact, as one having little natural ability, I prided myself on always working as hard as I could. Coaches often talked about this concept of giving 100%. By high school, giving 100% apparently wasn't good enough and before I knew it I had a sticker with 101% on my football helmet.

With time, even 101% wasn't enough and the cliche became "give 110%!" With a few of my more intelligent teammates it became a sort of inside joke that no matter what we did, it was never going to be enough. When I gave 100% the coach wanted 101%, when I gave 101% he wanted 110%. I even remember a professional basketball player who gave an interview where he said all he wanted to do was "go out and give 1000%." It made me want to go out there and give a million percent, a google-plex percent, or maybe an infinity percent. I got to the point where for me, the "give 100%" cliche became like most other cliches, overcooked and meaningless. It became difficult for me to see what giving 100% really looked like.

Then I grew up. . .

I remember coaches saying their goal in coaching was to teach players how to be good husbands, fathers, and contributing members to society. I never anticipated the realization of why I ran so many sprints, spent so many hours practicing my jump shot, and dedicated such a huge percentage of my adolescent years to sports, would suddenly make sense as I stood at Disneyland as a 30 year-old father of three.

I am a slow learner, but it was there I finally fully grasped why learning to give 100% in sports was such an essential lesson to learn.

My wife and I had been trying to get our family to Disneyland for awhile and the trip for our kids, 7, 5, and 2 was highly anticipated. We went on all the traditional rides, and because of the time of year and the soggy weather, we avoided the lines most anticipate finding at Disneyland. We did Space Mountain and Thunder Mountain Railroad half a dozen times and went on every major ride at least once, most twice. The kids loved everything it seemed, and this Disneyland trip was truly magical.

We had heard a lot about a new attraction, The Magical World of Color. It's a new light show at Disneyland California Adventure Park where favorite Disney movie clips are projected onto a water canvas, beautifully created by an arsenal of synchronized water cannons. We waited in line early one morning to get our "reserved" spots for that evening's show. But when we got held up on another ride, we arrived at the show later than most and found ourselves in the back of our "reserved section." I came to realize that by "reserved," what was actually meant was that you got to stand in a crowded roped off section, rather than standing where you wanted.

As the show began, my wife and I quickly tried to find a realistic way of helping all three of our kids get a glimpse of the show. Because we arrived late and we have a vertically challenged family, I was the only one able to see the show on my own. I started with my boys in my arms and my wife holding our two-year-old daughter. It didn't take long for my seven-year-old son to realize such an arrangement was uncomfortable and silly for a seven-year-old. We tried to adjust them, on my shoulders, to my back, in my arms, even standing inside the stroller, but nothing seemed to work. Finally, after about five minutes the seven-year-old gave up and sat in the stroller for the remainder of the show, missing it almost entirely.

We settled with my daughter in my left arm and my five-year-old son in my right arm. Before too long, my daughter was asleep. Twenty-eight pounds of dead weight in the left arm and my thirty-seven pound five year-old in the other. The show was forty minutes long.

Five minutes into it my back was cramping up in a bad way and my arms were burning worse than they ever did during the last rep of any weightlifting class exercise I remembered. My feet were burning too. As if the pain of "Disneyland feet" weren't enough, I have suffered from plantar fasciitis for the past two years and the pain was nothing short of excruciating. I wanted to set the kids down, but I didn't want to disturb my sleeping princess or distract the one child I had who was actually enjoying the show.

So, there I stood -- arms, back, and feet burning -- for forty minutes frozen it seemed in eternity.

It was at that moment I finally understood what my coaches were trying to teach me with all that 100% talk. It was not the first moment I had ever exercised mental toughness outside of sports. There were lots of times in my studies at law school and as a husband and father where I drew upon my experiences from sports and did something that was hard.

However, it was at that moment standing there in Disneyland when I completely and acutely understood. Had I not given 100% on the last set of lines in basketball practice when it mattered to my team, I never would have been prepared to give 100% when it mattered more to my family. I knew at any moment I could have made the pain stop by putting the kids down. Instead, I drew upon the lessons I had learned from sports and I gave 100%.

As I watched the show in the midst of this pain, I thought back to all of the sacrifices my parents made for me and my many siblings. I realized how much work a Disneyland trip must have been for them with all their children. Even more puzzling was how it was possible for us all to have positive memories of such a trip!

I thought about the mental toughness of my Mom having not been to sleep all night because she was sick, cleaning up the throw-up of the fourth child with the flu that night. I thought about her hands, cracked and bleeding out of service to us.

I thought about how difficult it must have been for my Dad to be a good sport about always doing what everyone else wanted to do, rather than doing anything he wanted. There was his passing up the fancy new car in order for his herd of kids to have clothes and shoes, despite our best efforts to outgrow and destroy them all. I remembered his giving me his last $20 in his wallet to fill up his car with gas I thoughtlessly used. Both were sacrificing literally all their selfish desires for the good of their children.

That is what 100% looks like.

As we left the park that night, our daughter remained asleep on my shoulder. We talked about our favorite things from the day and about the Magic Color show. The seven-year-old was happy about the day and claims to have not missed seeing the show. I think it was his way of not making us feel bad. The five-year-old could not stop talking about how much he loved the show.

At that moment, I felt a sense of satisfaction I always dreamed winning a state championship would bring. Despite the fact two of the three children were oblivious of any sacrifice being made on their behalf, I had been given a precious insight into what it REALLY means to give 100%.

I also learned all it takes is for one to appreciate the sacrifice to make it all worth it.