3 x 5 Card

I recall a recent talk by President Thomas S. Monson in which he said, and I may be paraphrasing here, to never postpone a prompting by the Spirit. He cited several occasions when he felt an impression to do a certain thing and immediately acted on that feeling, only to discover that he had arrived just in the nick of time to make a huge difference. I have also heard of ignored promptings or postponed action that resulted in arriving only moments too late. While these are meant to be very general examples, the message is clear, at least to me… never postpone a prompting.

That being said, it is my hope and prayer that those who choose to read further will understand that this is the result of such a prompting… and I am fairly confident that what I am about to say may very well go unsaid if I were to choose not to act right now.

Earlier this evening I attended the YSA Thanksgiving dinner at the home of Jak and Cheryl Knudsen. I was tied up in a couple of meetings earlier in the evening so I arrived later than most. When I arrived, I immediately found Sheri and gave her a kiss and a hug, and then I noticed a bulletin board with 3x5 cards all over, and there were things written on each card, each in different handwriting. It quickly became apparent to me that on each card, someone had written some of the things they were thankful for. There were many things written on these cards, and so I thought I should add my thoughts to the board via my own 3x5 card. What surprised me though, was how quickly and how strong one single dominant thought planted itself just behind my eyeballs, right there in the front of my brain… that place where thoughts appear and then simply cannot be ignored or dismissed. And just in case that sudden thought of mine had a notion that I was going to try to push it aside for another one, it managed to work its way down into my heart, and into my soul, and soon it was the only thing I was capable of directing my attention toward. All of this took place faster than it has taken you to read about it… mere moments.

So I located the stack of blank 3x5 cards, found a suitable writing instrument, and began to write. Six words. That's all it took, but those six words have a great deal of meaning to me. And no matter how long I live, I will always be thankful for this, not only at Thanksgiving, but every single day of my life.

Unlimited trips to the fixin’s bar.

That’s it. Those are the six words I wrote on that card. Hardly worth all the build-up leading to it, right?

Maybe.

So what is it about “unlimited trips to the fixin’s bar” that I’m so thankful for? Why did that thought dominate my attention so? And why was I prompted to post it on that bulletin board for all to see? And why was I then prompted again to offer this explanation? I can really only answer the first three of those three questions with any degree of certainly, and will do so shortly. The fourth however, why the prompting to write what you are now reading, is not so easy to answer, but perhaps I should rely on a paragraph from another writer (one of my favorite authors of fiction), a paragraph which explains how I feel about disclosing such things, and by doing so pulling aside the curtain to allow anyone who wishes to see a better look at who it is that is really working the knobs and buttons and levers and switches that make me (at least in part) who I am.

The most important things are the hardest things to say. They are the things you get ashamed of, because words diminish them--words shrink things that seemed limitless when they were in your head to no more than living size when they’re brought out. But it’s more than that, isn’t it? The most important things lie too close to where your secret heart is buried, like landmarks to a treasure your enemies would love to steal away. And you may make revelations that cost you dearly only to have people look at you in a funny way, not understanding what you’ve said at all, or why you thought it was so important that you almost cried while you were saying it. That’s the worst, I think. When the secret stays locked within not for want of a teller, but for want of an understanding ear.

Sometimes you read things that you think you could have or should have written yourself. Sometimes someone says something that you feel as though should have been uttered by you. Sometimes you hear a song for the first time and you know in your heart of hearts that it should have been either written for you, or by you. The preceding paragraph is just that sort of thing for me, and it has been used by me numerous times… in Sacrament talks, as favorite quotes on Facebook, or on my MySpace page, or in my AOL profile back in the old days. Now it is on the landing page for my Blog, and it is the first thing one sees when they choose to take a look there.

But although I have used it in different settings in the past, never before has that paragraph hit so close to home for me as it does right now. It is exactly the way I feel as I think about what those six words on that card mean to me.

I have written about “Unlimited trips to the fixin’s bar” before, and it has become a common and recurring theme in my life, always finding a way back into my thought processes as I go through the minutia of life.

It begins innocently enough with my love of BBQ.

For my non-meat-eating friends, please heed the following disclaimer: The next few paragraphs will be describing various kinds of Bar-B-Que. You may wish to skip this portion of the discussion as it included only to demonstrate those variations, and the point of this can still be understood without having to read things which may or may not cause uncomfortable feelings within your stomach. If you choose not to read about meat, please skip down past the italicized paragraphs and you may continue reading from that point.

In my studies of good Bar-B Que, I have discovered that there are four basic types broken down by geographical location.

There is Carolina BBQ which concentrates on pulled pork or chicken and utilizes a vinegar based sauce for basting and as a finishing sauce. It is usually served with cole slaw not as a side dish, but as part of the BBQ itself… as in a pulled pork or pulled chicken served on a hamburger style bun and a generous portion of slaw thrown between the two slices of bread along with the meat. It is very popular on the East Coast, and is the BBQ of choice for most of my friends in Richmond, VA., but this particular style of BBQ is my least favorite style. I love my friends, to be sure, and I mean no disrespect at all to them or to the local BBQ customs, but this style just doesn’t cut it for me. I will take this opportunity to fall back on the “personal preference” argument in proclaiming my thoughts on the matter.

Then there’s Memphis style which is very much rib oriented. Much debate takes place in Memphis regarding a preference of “wet” or “dry” ribs, referring simply to sauce or no sauce. There are certainly valid arguments for both cases, but it ultimately boils down again to personal preference. I have my preference, but I will, at least for the time being, keep it to myself.

There’s also Kansas City BBQ which focuses on the sauce itself, (this is where the KC in “KC Masterpiece” comes from). Which particular animal the meat comes from is of little importance, the cut of meat also is unimportant in comparison, because in Kansas City, it is the sauce that distinguishes one from another.

And of course there’s Texas BBQ which is primarily beef. Being from Texas, this is by far my favorite, both to eat and cook for others. In Texas, men have declared openly, and quite honestly I believe, that they will switch religions before switching BBQ sauces. Folks in Texas guard family recipes handed down from generations long ago more closely than Fort Knox guards her gold. Want to be on the receiving end of one of those “if looks could kill” stares? Ask an old BBQ man the secret ingredient of his dry rub. You might get an answer, but you will not get the truth. I myself have written (in more detail than most people would even care) about the lengths I go to in smoking a good brisket… but while I gave many details and “secrets”, I did not tell everything that I know. There’s just something deep within every BBQ man that prevents full and complete disclosure.

And now, welcome back to our vegetarian friends, and back to the discussion at hand, namely the “unlimited trip to the fixin’s bar” 3x5 card, and why I’m so thankful for it.

I think my love of BBQ began even before I was born. To the best of my knowledge, my mother only had pregnancy induced cravings when she was carrying me, and those craving coincidentally happened to be… you guessed it, BBQ. Again, with apologies to my herbivore friends, but I just love good BBQ. I tell people that if I were to cut myself shaving, BBQ sauce would come out instead of blood. That of course is an exaggeration, but it further demonstrates my passion for the stuff.

One thing I really like about many of the BBQ joints in Texas is the fact that there may very well be more of them in Texas than there are trees. It seems at times difficult to throw a stick without hitting one. It just makes me feel good to know that when I’m back home, I’m never very far away from good BBQ.

But that also brings with it a dilemma. Which ones of these countless places are worth going to and which ones can I live without? The truth of the matter is this: BBQ is BBQ. Oh sure, there are differences in the rubs one may use to prepare the meat, a dry rub is preferred by some while a mustard based rub is used by others. There are countless ways to prepare the meat, another countless ways to cook the meat, and even countless types of wood, or combinations of different wood, used to create the smoke which flavors the meat. The variations are mind boggling… but in the end, what you get on your plate is simply smoked or grilled meat.

So, in Texas, we can be guilty of judging a BBQ joint (and the best BBQ is always found in joints, never in restaurants), by the fixin’s that accompany the main dish. Now we’re starting to get to the heart of the matter. What is this “fixin’s” that I keep rambling about? Well, it's things like wheat and white bread slices, sliced onions, sliced pickles, pickle spears, some jalapenos – whole or sliced, extra sauce for your meat, maybe some fries or onion rings, cole slaw, potato salad, baked beans, macaroni salad, etc… you get the point. Fixin’s is anything to make your BBQ experience more complete and full.

Sometimes the fixin’s are included on your plate, chosen by the owner of the joint, or perhaps by the pitmaster, or maybe even just put there on the plate by the server as an afterthought. These types of places rank low on my personal scale of suitable BBQ joints. Sometimes the fixin’s are arranged on a table that's over there, out of the way, maybe in a dark corner, and only consisting of three or four items… again seemingly as an afterthought.

The fixin’s that were most impressive to me were proudly displayed on or in some type of massive structure in the center of the room, where one would have to walk around it to get to any table in the place, extremely difficult to stroll past, and impossible to ignore. This structure within a structure is known as a fixin’s bar. It is much like a salad bar where you would pick out your favorite salad items, but instead of lettuce and tomatoes (although a good fixin's bar will have these too), the fixin’s bar had the aforementioned items, and much, much more.

I’ve always liked the idea of the fixin’s bar and the BBQ joints that I seem to enjoy the most in Texas are the ones that advertise unlimited trips to the fixin’s bar. It just makes the meal that much better, in my opinion. The phrase also became a common saying among my circle of friends, and would eventually be used in a variety of settings or discussions, more and more of which over time had less to do with BBQ and more to do with other aspects of life.

And now, hindsight being what it is, I believe that this is where this idea of what it is that I’m so thankful for this year had its humble beginnings.

As I get older, (and at least in my own mind, wiser), I think about my life in terms of BBQ like that sometimes. The basic life sustaining ingredients are there… food, drink, sleep, breath, etc… just as the basic ingredient on a plate of BBQ (the meat) is there. But isn’t life supposed to be more than just living? The things in life that makes it so much better can very easily (at least to me) be likened to the fixin’s bar, don’t you think?

Here’s what I mean. I love to fly airplanes. I was taking lessons a few years ago and was just about to take my solo flight when I was rear-ended while stopped at a stop sign in Richmond and hurt my back. My doctor told me not to fly for a few weeks and when I got to feeling better it just never happened. I didn’t go back and pick up where I left off. Other things started taking up my time and I can see my flight bag from where I’m sitting right now and I wonder “Why didn’t I go back to the fixin’s bar?”

That was a small missed opportunity though… not really a huge deal to me anymore. Someday I might venture out to the local airport here and take up where I left off. I still want to make that solo flight. The real tragedy to me are the missed trips to the fixin’s bar that stop us from progressing or keep us from experiencing life the way we are supposed to. “Adam fell that men might be; and men are that they might have joy.” We have been given this great blessing for us to enjoy, and if we don’t use it, we’ll lose it.

I see people all the time that just don’t have a clue how to be happy. All they can see in their lives are misery and pain because they’ve learned how to look for those things, and ignore all the wonderful things that are around them. They complain and mope and are convinced that they have contracted every disease and mental condition known to medical science, and they are also very proficient at blaming anyone and everyone else for their troubles. And then they sit around wasting away and wondering “Why did I get dealt this hand?” It may seem callous of me to answer “You weren’t… you dealt the hand to yourself.” It may appear that I’m uncaring or heartless when I don’t want to be around people like that. I say get yourselves to the fixin’s bar and make your life the way you want it. That’s what it’s there for. I'll even help if you want.

And attitude of gratitude is the key, I think. Being grateful for the things I have and the abilities I have and the challenges in life that ultimately make me stronger is how I enjoy life. I like to live with passion and to be passionate about what I do and how I do it.

Several years ago, while on a fishing trip with my brother-in-law Sam and my father, Sam told us a story about his grandfather taking him fishing when he was a young boy. They would fish and when grandpa hooked a fish, he would do nothing... just leave the fish on the hook in the water, and wait. He would wait until Sam needed to do something, maybe change bait, get a drink, anything that would give grandpa a chance to say "Here then, you hold my pole and I'll talk care of..." whatever it was that needed attention. Then Sam would feel a tug on the line and reel in the fish that grandpa had hooked. Sam would be so proud and grandpa would make such a fuss about the fish and both were happy. It wasn't until Sam was grown I think that he discovered what grandpa had done.

I think Sam's grandfather understood the meaning and importance of the fixin’s bar. Hearing Sam tell that story and how happy he was with his grandpa for doing that more than made up for the fact that I didn't catch any fish on this particular fishing trip. The story itself was fixin’s.

I could eat BBQ without a single trip to the fixin’s bar and I could go through life without passion for anything, but life (like BBQ) is so much better when you include the little things that add that little (or big, or huge) intangible something.

And so tonight, when I looked at that bulletin board, and that thought planted itself right there just behind my eyeballs, right up in the front of my brain where thoughts appear and then simply cannot be ignored or dismissed, I knew what I would write on my own 3x5 card.

Unlimited trips to the fixin’s bar.

That is what I am thankful for.

The fixin’s bar in my life that I was thinking of when the thought took root and overshadowed all other thought in my mind is this incredibly awesome group of young people that I was with earlier this evening and that I have had the privilege to get to know.

I wish to speak directly to each member of this group now. Each one of you is a different fixin, and together as a group you make up one of the fixin’s bar of my life. Each one of you adds something different to my plate. And if I am beginning to sound overly sappy or mushy… get over it, I’m just getting started.

All of the good things in my life are fixin’s, but this group of you young men and young women have touched me in a way that is truly unique and special… and I wonder sometimes if you know - if you really, really know - how truly special you are. And not just to me, either. I see it in the faces of others when the group gets together for different gatherings, I hear it when we have discussions about the group, or about individuals in the group. I can tell that I’m not alone in feeling this way about you when someone from the group goes away for a while and then comes back for a visit, and then they can now see what it is that I see when I’m around all of you.

Maybe this ability to see with this kind of clarity comes from my advanced (comparatively speaking, of course) age. Maybe it’s due to the fact that while I try to be actively involved in the YSA program, I am ultimately an outsider. And it’s always easier for someone on the outside to see things… maybe not so much more clearly, but certainly differently, than those who are on the inside. I don’t really know. I can’t say with any degree of confidence why or even if, I see the group differently than you do.

Suffice it to say that I see you all as an incredible group of people, that I feel it a privilege to know you as a group and individually, that you are indeed a favored and treasured fixin’s bar to me. And to round out what it was that I wrote on that card, I am thankful for the unlimited trips to the fixin’s bar. THIS fixin’s bar. And not just today as we think of some things we are thankful for this Thanksgiving season… I will be eternally grateful for this, because while I may or may not walk among you for the rest of my life here on Earth, I will always have the memories of you. And even as I grow older and my memory begins to fade, I may forget occasions, I may forget dates, I may forget names, I may forget faces, or any number of the details that are fresh in my mind tonight… I will never forget the way you made me feel when I was in your presence.

I take great comfort in the scripture found in the Doctrine and Covenants, section 130, verse 18 which reads: Whatever principle of intelligence we attain unto in this life, it will rise with us in the resurrection.

How grateful I am that I get to visit the fixin’s bar even after this life ends ! ! ! When I said “eternally grateful” earlier, I literally meant eternally grateful.

We each have unlimited trips to the fixin’s bars in our own lives available to us, if we'll only go. I know where to go for mine. I know I can go any time I want to. I know I can go any time I need to have that warm feeling that comes from what I have been calling the fixin’s of my life.

I spent this time writing this out when I should have been in bed hours ago because I have heeded the counsel of President Monson to never postpone a prompting. I hope and pray that I have made some of my innermost feelings known to each of you, and have done so without being overly creepy. And I want to be clear about something… there are other fixin’s bars in my life. My family (Sheri, my three children, my three (and counting) grandchildren, my mom and dad, my siblings, and all of the other members of my family as presently constituted), the Gospel, my friends (yes, I do have other friends), all form different fixin’s bars for my life. I just want you to know that while some of the fixin’s bars in my life are just that, and while the metaphor of the fixin’s bar is true and accurate and applicable in my own thought processes, if truth is to be exposed (and why shouldn’t it be at this point?) you are more than just fixin’s to me.

As a group and as individuals, you are countless blessings given to me by our Heavenly Father, and just the thought of that humbles me to my very core. I do not know why He has seen fit to bestow upon me such blessings… but blessings you are nonetheless, each and every single one of you.

Before I close, I want to revisit the paragraph that I included earlier… this time with thanks and gratitude to the original author, Stephen King. This is how I feel as I try to express these very private and sacred feelings to you.

The most important things are the hardest things to say. They are the things you get ashamed of, because words diminish them--words shrink things that seemed limitless when they were in your head to no more than living size when they’re brought out. But it’s more than that, isn’t it? The most important things lie too close to where your secret heart is buried, like landmarks to a treasure your enemies would love to steal away. And you may make revelations that cost you dearly only to have people look at you in a funny way, not understanding what you’ve said at all, or why you thought it was so important that you almost cried while you were saying it. That’s the worst, I think. When the secret stays locked within not for want of a teller, but for want of an understanding ear.

I have done the best that I know how to do. I have dug deep, I have let it all out, and I have nothing left… and yet I feel as though I have not even begun to scratch the surface of my innermost thoughts and feelings regarding those six words that I wrote on a 3x5 card earlier this evening.

I am thankful for unlimited trips to the fixin’s bar. And as to this particular one, this fixin’s bar that I have spent so much time trying to explain to you, I will stay close to it. I will visit it often. I will feast upon the offerings that I find there. And while time may indeed make the trip more difficult to make, I will make the effort as long as I am able in this life. I will strive to do what I need to do to continue to be worthy of the blessings of this place. I hope and pray to always remember to do so even when the investment required to do so may seem to be too great to make.

Because in the end…minor investment, but huge rewards.