"When I Survey the Wondrous Cross"

With the help and kindness of family and friends, this week I slowly but surely reentered the land of the living, having missed out on only one seminar.  It always amazes me how much the little things that you take for granted--like being able to sleep through the night, or even just having an appetite--seem to mean when you are sick and those things are no longer working right.  So it has been nice to get back to feeling better.  I'm particularly glad that I am feeling on top of things before my Sister Stephanie visits this week while she is presenting at a conference at TCU.  I'm looking forward to being able to see her for a few days, as it will be the first time I've seen family since mid-August.

Isaac Watts, English hymn composer

Today I taught the Gospel Essentials lesson on the principle of sacrifice.  This morning as I was making a few last minute preparations, I was reminded of one of my favorite hymns (unfortunately not in our hymnbook or our regular canon of inspirational hymns).  The hymn is "When I Survey the Wondrous Cross," written by Isaac Watts in 1707 in England.  Watts wrote the hymn and several others, including "Joy to the World," "Sweet is the Work," and "He Died! The Great Redeemer Died," that have been popular throughout the Christian world and have been sung reverentially in our own worship services.  While I love each of these hymns, the words of "When I Survey the Wondrous Cross" have a special place in my heart.

When I survey the wondrous cross,

On which the Prince of glory died,

My richest gain I count but loss,

And pour contempt on all my pride.

Forbid it, Lord! that I should boast,

Save in the death of Christ, my God:

All the vain things that charm me most,

I sacrifice them to His blood...

Were the whole realm of nature mine,

That were a present far too small;

Love so amazing, so divine,

Demands my soul, my life, my all.

For me the words of this hymn evoke the spirit of true discipleship and the essence of the sacrifices that we are asked to make in this Church.  They remind me of the words of Amaleki, who urged us to "come unto Christ, who is the Holy One of Israel, and partake of his salvation, and the power of his redemption.  Yea, come unto him, and offer your whole souls as an offering unto him, and continue in fasting and prayer, and endure to the end; and as the Lord liveth ye will be saved" (Omni 1:26).  The call of the gospel is an for us to exchange our all for the Lord's all.  It is true that He asks us to consecrate our all to His kingdom, but He asks this only after have consecrated His all to us.  Indeed, I am confident that at the end of eternity, when we look back on the sacrifices we were called to make for the Lord's kingdom, we will find that the exchange rate was far more than generous in our behalf.

The words of this hymn also do something else for me.  They remind me how far short I often fall of the demands of true Christian discipleship and faith.  Like Ananias and Sapphira, I have frequently "kept back a part" (Acts 5:2) of that which rightly belonged to the Lord, and in the process have lost opportunities to grow.  Considering the sacrifice of the Savior, I realize how very little I have given, and in some cases, how very much I have held back from Him and how much I must repent.

At the end of the day, I am inspired by the fact that more than our possessions, treasures, or money, God desires our hearts.  Those other things simply don't mean very much in the eternal scheme of things.  From time to time, He asks us to give of them to His Kingdom, but He does so to loosen the hold that they have upon our hearts.  When such things finally become temporary trifles in our eyes, we are then prepared to give Him the thing that He truly desires: our hearts and our devotion.  And having given those things to Him, He can mold us into men and women who are truly prepared to receive "all that [our] Father hath" (D&C 84:39).

Brett

"My Angel Mother"

I'm writing my post a little bit early today.  Monday night I came down with a cold and I have been fighting it ever since.  So I opted to stay home from Church today in hopes of getting some needed rest and avoiding passing my germs along to other unsuspecting victims.  Being sick in graduate school is an interesting challenge.  If it is really bad your professors will let you miss a seminar, but it had better be ebola bad and it had only better be one seminar session that you miss.  So it can make for some fun times.

In the middle of feeling miserable and being wide awake for three nights in a row this week, I couldn't help but think about my Mom, whose arthritis has disrupted more than a few nights of sleep during my lifetime.  While I was irritable and hard to get along with after only three such nights, my Mom never seems to let the sleep deprivation get to her, or at least she doesn't let it show.  Every morning, she is awake and ready to go about the day with a smile on her face, regardless of the fact that she only slept for an hour or two during the night.  She's an inspiration.

My Mom and Me, BYU Graduation, April 2011

There's another reason I have been thinking about her though: tomorrow (October 22) is her birthday and I wanted to pay her a small tribute since I will not be able to be there to celebrate with her in person.

I didn't always make things easy on my Mom when I was growing up.  When I was three or so, my Mom took Rob, Lynley, and me with her to the store.  When it came time to leave and go home, I didn't want to go for one reason or another and as Mom tried to get me out of the store I screamed out for all to hear, "She's not my mother!", a response that no doubt turned many heads and humiliated my Mom.  As if that statement didn't do enough to cast aspersions onto her, my constant injuries as a child (downing a bottle of Tylenol with codeine, and various other bumps and bruises that led to frequent hospital visits) certainly caused a nurse or two to question her undeservingly.

But in spite of all of that, she somehow managed to get the important messages through to me.  I will never forget a moment that happened when I was three or four.  Dad was at the bedside of my Grandpa Dowdle late, helping him through the painful last months of terminal cancer.  I had a nightmare and could hear Mom down in the living room waiting for Dad to come home, so I took my blanket and went down to the living room to tell her that I had had a scary dream and couldn't sleep.  She reassured me that everything was ok and then said a little prayer with me and simply taught me that prayers would help me to sleep whenever I had a nightmare.  I was then able to go back to bed and sleep comfortably.

Variations of that same theme have played out over and over and over again throughout my life.  Whenever I have been concerned or scared or upset, Mom has been there with the right words and the reassurance that if I would put my trust in the Lord, things would work out.  After nearly thirty years of such lessons and counsel, I can say without hesitation that she has never been wrong.  My worst fears have never actually materialized and her faith in God's plans has always been vindicated.  Right along side her has been my Dad, whose faith, counsel, and example of righteousness have likewise blessed my life forever.

Lincoln once said of his mother that he inherited his qualities from her and then concluded, "All that I am or hope ever to be I get from my mother, God bless her" (Recollected Words of Abraham Lincoln, 240).  I can't help but feel the same.  While I may have screamed out, "She's not my mother!" when I was three years old, today and for the rest of eternity I shall be proud to say with conviction, "She's my mother!  Isn't she wonderful!"

Happy birthday Mom! I love you!

Brett

"Afflicted Precisely As We Are Now"

Brigham Young, ca. 1850

I'm constantly amazed by the things that I discover in the process of looking for something else.  Throughout my life, some of the best scriptures and quotations I have found were discovered while I was searching for some other scripture or quotation that I needed.  While some may attribute such discoveries to chance and dumb luck, I tend to believe that they are among the most "tender mercies of the Lord" (1 Nephi 1:20) that were so beautifully described by Elder David A. Bednar during the April 2005 General Conference.  These unexpected discoveries remind us just how much more the Lord truly knows about His plans for us than we know, and they serve as means whereby He often leads us to discover those paths He has for us.

I had just such a discovery yesterday as I was doing my scripture study.  I was searching for a quotation by Brigham Young about our personal relationship with the Father during the premortal life.  In the process of searching for that quotation, I came across another sermon of Brigham's with which I had not been previously acquainted (You would be shocked by how much Brigham spoke).  This sermon, given on May 4, 1856, included the following comments:

"Well now the Lord has compassion upon us upon the same principle that we have one towards another, precisely the same, for he has experienced those things Himself.  This is an item that the people can scarcely realize, that our Father and our God, him whom we serve, the Great Elohim, that he has once been afflicted precisely as we are now.  This is really strange.  We could hardly admit that this is the fact, and still it is good, sound. . . . There is not a person upon the earth or in the heavens, or anywhere else that could ever feel or sympathize for you or for me unless that person had suffered as you and I are suffering. . . . [T]here is not and never was a son but there must have been a father, and if a father he must also be a son, and. . . there never has been a father capacitated to beget sons without he having first passed through this ordeal himself. . . . Well now that father that we talk about and Jesus his son have once been precisely as we are: tempted, tried, buffeted and filled with weakness, with pain and sorrow and suffering just as we are.  I don't know that he has ever had the toothache or the headache as I have had them, but he was obliged to know sorrow, pain and the infirmities of mortality as well as us.  And why?  Because he would never know how to enjoy; he could not have the capacity to realize the value of ease, of comfort, of plenty unless He had suffered disease and sorrow, and it never could be known in all the eternities.  He never could have occupied his present station without these gratifications, it never was acknowledged upon any other principle."  (Brigham Young, Complete Discourses of Brigham Young, 2:1101).

Perhaps I am not alone in this fact, but I rejoice in the idea that not only does my Savior understand my pains and struggles, but so does my Father in Heaven.  I like the idea that He knows what it is like to have a migraine or to have joints that are hurt from time to time.  I like the idea that He knows what it is like to feel like there is more work to be done than there is time to do it.  I like the fact that He knows what it is to struggle and perhaps even fail from time to time.  For me one of the best aspects of family history research is to learn about the challenges my ancestors experienced and the ways that they responded to those challenges.  Somehow the thoughts of their struggles binds my heart to them and I experience a shared sense of mortality with them.  So it is with my Father and His Divine Son, our Savior Jesus Christ.  By knowing that They understand our challenges and the depths of our struggles, we come to feel a closeness to Them that would not otherwise be possible.

Brigham drew upon these insights and asked, "Well what does this bring us to, the few that are here this morning?"  He then answered, "It brings us to this one thing, that this experience is necessary for us in order to bring us to perfection" (Brigham Young, Complete Discourses, 2:1101).  That mere fact, the fact that our struggles are not wasted, that they serve a purpose and are for something, gives us the strength to "press forward with a steadfastness in Christ" (2 Nephi 31:20).

Brigham further counseled, "Then do not you nor I complain of hard times nor anything that we are called to pass through, for it is right.  No person would know the nature of poverty unless they had once been in comfortable circumstances; no person would know and realize the pleasure of ease in their bodies and the benefit of lying down and resting unless they had sometimes been in pain and had experienced sleepless nights and been anxious to rest, no person in any kingdom understands anything but by the contrast.  No person could know of the blessings of life, of light, of knowledge, of happiness in every particular degree unless they had tasted the opposite in its degree. . . . I tell you it is necessary for this people to experience every trial that they can possibly pass through" (Brigham Young, Complete Discourses, 2:1101).

I am grateful to know that we have a God who "mourns with those that mourn, and comforts those who stand in need of comfort" (Mosiah 18:8-9).  I am grateful to know that we have a God who hears our every prayer and numbers the tears of His children.  I am grateful to know that we have a God who in time will "wipe all tears from [our] eyes" and usher in an eternity in which "there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain" (Revelation 21:4).  But I am equally grateful to know we have a God who lets us learn everything that we must learn, even if we must at times learn "by sad experience" (D&C 121:39), for it is often in those very sad experiences that we are tutored most profoundly in the lessons and principles of godliness.

Brett

I Love General Conference

Few things are as exhilarating for me as General Conference weekend.  Of course the insinuation that two days worth of discourses is exhilarating to me may mean that I lead a very boring life.  (Probably true)  But the opportunity to sit and listen to the voices of Prophets and Apostles, men who hold the keys anciently given to Peter, James, and John by the very Lord Himself, and then from them transmitted to the Prophet Joseph Smith and Oliver Cowdery in these latter days, is anything but boring to me.  

Yesterday's announcement regarding the ages of missionary service--particularly the ages at which women are eligible to serve the Lord as missionaries--was breathtaking.  Perhaps I am over-exaggerating, but to me this announcement seems like it will have a dramatic influence upon the missionary work and growth of the Church.  In 1974 when President Spencer W. Kimball urged every worthy young man to serve a mission, the Church began to grow rapidly.  That call for more missionaries preceded both the dramatic increase in Temple building (that began under President Kimball) and the 1978 revelation on the priesthood.  Perhaps this revelatory moment in the history of the Church could be preceding similarly dramatic growth and revelations.  At the very least, it is a call for increased spirituality and increased gospel teaching in the homes and families of the Church.

I was likewise moved by the announcement of a Temple in Arequipa, Peru.  The second that temple was announced, my mind went to my old missionary companion, Nefi Ccuno, who came to me straight from Arequipa, via the MTC in Provo.  From time to time it has been hard to keep track of Nefi in the last ten years, but if my assumption is correct, he likely hasn't been able to attend a dedicated Temple of the Lord since he was a missionary.  Nefi has been dealt a harder hand than I have ever considered.  For a person as bright and intelligent as he is, I am certain that the poverty and lack of educational opportunities in Peru have been a severe trial.  But I believe that this Temple will bless Nefi and reward his diligence and faith amidst life's deepest challenges.  And, believing, as I do, that the Temples of the Lord bless not only the people that attend them but also the cities where they are located, I hope and pray that there are brighter days ahead for Arequipa, Peru and those who live there.

There were so many talks in this conference that stood out to me that I'm not sure I could do justice to all of them.  The thing that stood out the most, however, was just the idea that it is time for us as Latter-day Saints to stand up and be distinctive for our beliefs and for our faith.  Elder Ballard referred to the symbol of the beehive.  As he spoke, I was reminded of two things.  The first was the early distinctiveness that characterized the State of Deseret and the Territory of Utah.  During the nineteenth century, we were simply different.  Plural marriage and the political unity of the Saints were big reasons for that distinctiveness, but we were different as a people and we were cohesive and unified as a people.  I believe that there are times when we could benefit from that old willingness to be different from the world.  The second thing that Elder Ballard reminded me of was an entry in the journal of James E. Talmage when he was a student at Johns Hopkins University in the 1880s (unfortunately I don't have time to dig it out of my files, like I ought to for accuracy).  The young James Talmage had been offered a  prestigious opportunity to remain and teach at a university in the East.  For a man who loved the academy and the thrill of scholarship, this was a highly tempting offer.  It was a chance for him to stay near the center of the nation's scientific research and likely to make a name for himself in the field.  But he knew what he had been sent to the East for:  namely, to get an education so that he could return and better the educational opportunities of those in the Church schools in Utah.  Thus, with a hint of sadness, but full of conviction, he concluded to return to Utah, noting that "as the bee must return to the hive, else it die, so must I."  He understood that he was to consecrate everything to the Church, and his very livelihood depended on such consecration.

That same message came across to me in so many different ways.  Elder Holland's talk, "The First Commandment", made this point as powerfully as any given.  He reminded me that my answer to the Lord's question "Lovest thou me?" means everything, now and forever!  Each speaker, in their own way, reminded me that we have a monumental work to do and the Lord is asking us to hasten and improve our efforts in that work.  That call to action has caused me to reflect on where and how I can begin to improve my less than perfect efforts in this supernal work.  For such calls to action, I am grateful once again for the General Conferences of the Church.

Brett

Faith as a Grain of Mustard Seed

Book of Abraham 1:1-2 manuscript in handwriting of William W. Phelps, Summer 1835
courtesy of the Joseph Smith Papers Project Website

During my scripture study this past week, I ended up revisiting a familiar story in Luke 17.  Having been instructed by the Lord that they were to learn more about how to forgive those who trespassed against them, the Savior's disciples made an interesting request of the Master.  They pled, "Lord, Increase our faith" (Luke 17:5).  At one time or another, and in some way or another, I believe that each of us has uttered this same request.  Like the disciples, we realize how weak our faith can often be and how subject to unbelief we often are.  As Elder Bruce R. McConkie once said, I believe we all wish that we had "faith like Enoch and Elijah" or Joseph Smith, or Brigham Young, or Thomas S. Monson, or our faithful forebears.  And the list goes on and on.  Because "faith has a short shelf life," we all have times when we find ourselves in short supply, pleading with the Lord as did the disciples, "Lord, Increase our faith!"

Given the sincerity with which we make such pleadings, then, the Lord's response to the disciples' request is interesting.  He said, "If ye had faith as a grain of mustard seed, ye might say unto this sycamine tree, Be thou plucked up by the root, and be thou planted in the sea; and it should obey you" (Luke 17:6).  The word "as" is a very important word in this verse, and its meaning is critical to grasping what the Lord was saying here.  Generally whenever I have read this verse, I have unwittingly read "faith the size of a grain of mustard seed," interpreting the Lord's statement to speak of quantity.  And certainly this is a valid and valuable reading of the verse.  Sometimes, we are lacking faith in sufficient quantities and thus struggle to accomplish the great works of faith.  But I believe this phrase can be read in another way as well.  Perhaps the Lord was also meaning for us to read, "faith like a grain of mustard seed," suggesting not only the quantity of one's faith, but also the quality of that faith.

This meaning generally escapes us because we are not prone to think of mustard seeds having and exercising faith.  And in most senses of the word, they most likely do not.  But as I considered this idea, I remembered Mormon's words recorded in Helaman 12.  There he spoke of man's frequent slowness and unwillingness to hearken to the words of the Lord, and he concluded that men are "less than the dust of the earth" (Hel. 12:7).  Explaining this statement, Mormon wrote, "For behold, the dust of the earth moveth hither and thither, to the dividing asunder, at the command of our great and everlasting God" (Hel. 12:8).  Abraham even spoke of the elements obeying the Creator (see Abraham 4:18).  Considering all of this, it hit me that to have "faith as a grain of mustard seed" can also mean to have the kind of faith that is always obedient to the will of God; that is always seeking to learn and comply with His commandments.

For the Lord to increase the faith of His disciples (and for Him to increase our faith) required effort, commitment, and obedience on their parts.  If we would commit to obeying the words of the Lord with the same dedication as a tiny mustard seed or a speck of dust, our faith would increase and become powerful.  But no divine gift of additional faith can ever change us without our corresponding willingness to seek out and obey the will of the Lord.

In our quest for greater faith, we ought to be like our faithful father Abraham, who, "finding there was greater happiness and peace and rest for [himself]..., sought for the blessings of the fathers, and the right whereunto [he] should be ordained to administer the same; and having been [himself] a follower of righteousness, desiring also to be one who possessed great knowledge, and to be a greater follower of righteousness, and to possess a greater knowledge, and to be a father of many nations, a prince of peace, and desiring to receive instructions, and to keep the commandments of God, [he] became a rightful heir, a High Priest, holding the right belonging to the fathers" (Abraham 1:2).  Abraham knew that his quest for greater faith, peace, happiness, and rest, was not something the Lord could simply give Him.  It was something he had to become through faith and righteousness, as well as from the transformative gifts of Heaven.  "If we are to have faith like Enoch and Elijah [and Abraham] we must believe what they believed, know what they knew, and live as they lived."  These men had faith like unto a grain of mustard seed.  They were firmly committed to learning and doing the will of the Lord, and striving to obey every commandment that He gave unto them.  If we would be like them, we must manifest this same kind of faith.

Brett

Voices from the Dust

President Spencer W. Kimball accompanied by D. Arthur Haycock, circa 1974

This week I have been thinking a lot about family.  Earlier in the week I came across a couple of talks that my grandfather, D. Arthur Haycock, had delivered in behalf of President Spencer W. Kimball entitled "Remember the Mission of the Church" and "The Lord Expects Righteousness."  The blog won't let me post the whole talks, but here is a part that I loved from "The Lord Expects Righteousness" in the October 1982 Conference.

Finding that my cousin was on facebook and thinking she might be interested, I shared the links with her.  She posted them on her facebook page, tagging each of the cousins so that they would all be made aware of the video.  The result was an interesting facebook gathering of cousins sharing thoughts and feelings about our Nana and Papa Haycock.  The thoughts and memories shared there were touching.  One of my cousins wrote, "Amazing timing, thank you.  It's been a long day and long week...but this brought things back into perspective."  It was amazing that these two talks seemed to have the same effect upon all of us cousins, reminding us of things we had forgotten, a familiar voice that we loved, and one of "those angel faces [smiling], which we have loved long since and lost awhile."

Such feelings shouldn't be surprising.  We are a Church that believes in the value and power of voices that "speak from the dust" (2 Nephi 26:16).  But it seems that no matter how many times I hear those voices, they still move me in the same way.  They still remind me of a noble heritage I carry and of the importance of honoring that heritage.  After this experience early in the week, I received a package in the mail yesterday from the Church Archives.  They had digitized two talks that my Papa gave at a workshop for Church secretaries in 1983.  Today as I drove to Church, I listened to one of them and heard the following sage counsel:

"Some of the jobs we have may not always be to our liking.  I had one that I hated with a passion.  I wept over it.  The war came along.  I had been [at the Church offices] for six years.  I was happy and ready to stay the rest of my life.  And the [Second] World War came.  Pearl Harbor came.  And they came to President Hinckley and to me and a couple of others and said 'You can't stay here any longer.  You're pre-Pearl Harbor fathers.  We don't want you in the Army.  But you can't work in an office.  You've got to go to the railroad or the smelters or to the mines and make a contribution in one of the war efforts.'  President Hinckley and I ended up in the railroad.  I hated every minute of it.  It wasn't my way of life.  I wasn't happy.  I'd trained to work in an office.  I hadn't trained to swing a sixteen pound sledge hammer or roll around in tobacco juice or oil and grease and dirt.  I didn't like it.  And then President Hinckley went to Denver to the headquarters and I came over to the depot and put on a cap and brass buttons and was a station master in his place.  And so I learned all about trains and railroads and the time tables.  Finally the war was over.  [The Church] asked me to come back.  The President of the Church, George Albert Smith, invited me in and said he wanted me to travel with him.  He was a railroad nut; a railroad buff.  I was the first person he had ever found that could read a time table.  We became instant friends and associates because of the experience I had with the worst experience of my life.  I got a training that helped me for the rest of my life and started me on a road of being secretary to several Presidents of the Church.  It came out of that terrible experience that was forced upon me, but I learned something from it that benefitted me and blessed me later on and has blessed me ever since" (D. Arthur Haycock, Secretaries Week Address, 27 April 1983, LDS Church Archives).

I was two years and six days old at the time my grandfather gave this talk.  I highly doubt he ever thought I would hear it, much less benefit from it.  But in the middle of a talk that he gave in 1983, he spoke very personally and very directly to his 31 year old grandson in 2012.  He reminded me that sometimes the hardest and most undesirable things we are asked to do yield the most profound blessings in our lives.  He reminded me that the Lord has a plan for me and He knows where I need to go and what I need to do to gain the experiences and abilities that I will need to be able to carry out that plan.

There are a lot of reasons why the Lord has asked us to search out our kindred dead.  Clearly, providing them with the ordinances of the House of the Lord is the most critical of these reasons.  But I firmly believe that there are blessings that extend beyond the satisfaction of knowing that we have done for them what they could not do for themselves.  I believe that in searching out our ancestry, including and perhaps particularly those who do not need help with their temple ordinances, we will find lessons, principles, and even occasionally scripture to guide us in our lives and help us along the path to eternal life.  If my time in Texas has taught me anything, it has taught me that I do not want any part of a heaven that does not include family and relationships.  For me, such a place would not be fit to be called heaven.  Gratefully, ours is a Church that preaches of enduring families and eternal relationships bound by the Holy Priesthood of God, unified by the infinite Atonement of Christ, and sanctified by a shared commitment to lives of holiness and obedience to the principles of godliness.

Brett

"It's Just a Game"

David, Brett, and Papa Wearing the Wrong Colors, Christmas 1992

This morning as I was still trying to work off the disappointment of last night's BYU game, I set to thinking about my enthusiasm for BYU sports, trying to understand why it is that I inflict so much pain and anxiety on myself by being a fan of them.  As I thought about this, a phrase that I have heard over and over again throughout my life (usually in connection with a poor performance by BYU) came to mind:  "It's just a game."

The meaning behind this statement is absolutely true.  Even as a devoted fan, I am a firm believer in the idea that as a society we have placed too much emphasis upon sports.  It has become a big business, and in many regards has undermined the commitment of universities and colleges to academic excellence.  And hitting a little closer to home, anyone who has ever watched a BYU game with me can probably attest that the experience is memorable (and not usually in a good way).  Legends abound among family and friends of what it is like to watch a game with Brett Dowdle.  While I have made a lot of strides to improve in recent years, I am still not proud of just how hard it can be for me to contain my emotions during a football or basketball game that isn't going well for the Y.  As Elder Holland referred to this past Sunday in his CES Fireside, "Israel, Israel, God is Calling," I have often be guilty of "checking my religion at the door" and not being the best of disciples in the sporting arena.  I am ashamed to admit all this, but it is true.

So given all these issues, why do I bother?  Is there any real value to all of this besides the entertainment value of seeing a team perform well from time to time?  I believe there is.  And so this is my attempt to explain why, for me, there are reasons why it's not just a game.  There are reasons why, if I can learn to control my temper and the anxiety that sports cause me, there is value in still being a fan and supporting the team.

I don't want to go into sports analogies for life, which have their value.  Certainly there is value in learning about winning gracefully, losing with class, working hard, etc.  All of that is important, but it isn't why I am a fan.  At the most basic and fundamental level, I am a fan because of the way that BYU sports have shaped and influenced my relationships.  I am a fan because BYU sports gave me an opportunity to connect with people that I love.

Going to games with my Dad and my brother Rob has been one of the most memorable and happy activities of my life.  One of my earliest and happiest memories is of watching a BYU game (against Utah State I believe) on a rare Saturday afternoon that my Dad had off from work at ZCMI.  I don't remember anything else about it other than Dad and BYU football.  As I got older, I remember Dad getting 2 season tickets to the basketball games each year.  Since there would usually be 2 games a week, Rob would get to go to one game and I would go to the other, always with Dad.  As I've gotten older, I've realized more and more how much of a sacrifice those tickets were for my parents, not only financially but also in terms of time.  Dad didn't get many free evenings, but for several years in a row, he found two evenings a week to spend with Rob and me watching BYU basketball games.  When both Rob and I had graduated from BYU, we made one of the best decisions we have ever made and started buying regular season tickets to the football games.  We bought three tickets so that we could take Dad with us and watch the games alongside him.  Between 2005 and 2010 I saw a lot of wins, a few losses, annoyed more than my fair share of surrounding spectators, and spent memorable hours with Dad and Rob.  Last season my parents flew down to Texas to see me and I got to go to one game with Dad (BYU v. TCU).  It was one of the best parts of last Fall semester.

I remember watching games on TV with my Grandma Dowdle--who had learned to enjoy BYU sports because my Grandpa Dowdle loved them.  I remember going to games with my Papa Haycock and watching in amazement as he seemed to find somebody he knew everywhere he went (little did I know, he actually did know someone just about everywhere he went).  Rob and I went to the 1990 Holiday Bowl (admittedly a very forgettable game) and several other games with my aunt Marilyn and my cousin Becky.  Even having family members who cheered for the University of Utah added to the experience for me because it always included a little bit of light hearted ribbing, a few moments of shame and humiliation, lots of laughs, and plenty of happy memories.  During college, Rob and I went to countless games with roommates and friends.  The games became a place where in between all the yelling and screaming, I formed close relationships and had memorable experiences that shaped my life.

Now that I'm in Texas, I still watch the games.  I can't help myself and can't even turn it off when it gets ugly.  But it isn't the same as the last five years watching the games without Dad and Rob.  I don't find it nearly as fulfilling when we win because it isn't like being there with my family.  As much as I love the game, for me it has always been more than just a game.  :)

Brett