My Un-asked Prayer

Ten years ago, a bunch of my friends wanted to go sky diving for our senior trip. We had the time and place all picked out. I decided to run it by my Dad to see what he thought. To give you some insight on my Dad's tolerance for danger, he wouldn't let us ride dirt bikes when we were young. Not when we were teenagers. Well, really never. He never let us ride dirt bikes. Even now he probably wouldn't let me ride a two-wheeler of any sort. Anyway, I was all set to ask prudent Paul, if I could leap from a tiny Sessna at hundreds of miles per hour to the ground as it speeds rapidly towards my fragile body only to pull a small string, that I rely on for my life, if he would give his stamp of approval for this thrill-seeking rite of passage into adulthood for his eighteen year-old son. I began to think he might not give me a push out the door, so to speak. I decided to ask anyway. I explained the situation, the circumstances, the people involved. And finally I asked, "Father, can I give my friends company on this errand and perhaps participate in this event?" He said no. I went to my friends and told them the bad news. They convinced me I received the wrong answer and I need to ask again. So I did. "Father, my friends have invested a lot of their time and energies in this exploit. Would it be possible for me to attend as well?" Again, he said no. Time passed, but my determination did not, as I was driven to receive the answer that I wanted. The third time I asked him, and he said, "You can do what you wish ..." I was elated. I had finally received the answer that I wanted and as I picked up the phone to call my friends to tell them of my exultation, my father turned to me and said, "But, why don't you pray about it first?" (Maybe it didn't go exactly like that, but pretty close.) I remember reading something in Church History about Joseph Smith receiving three answers from his Father about something his friends wanted, and I don't think it turned out to well for Joseph, so I decided not to even ask. Ten years later or more precisely last week, I got a birthday gift from my adventurous, yet practical wife that satisfied my lifelong need to fall from a plane and quell my Dad's fears of his son's thrill-seeking. Translation: I went indoor skydiving. Heather wanted to see if I would hurl, so she got me all hopped up on Tucanos' beef brisket, garlic sirloin steak, and sushi an hour before we went, but I wasn't fazed.

This was my second run and it was better than the one below it. I think they turned up the wind a little more.

I was the first one to go in our group, so it was a little scary.


  1. So Fun!! Congrats!

  2. It was fun to watch those videos. I'm glad you took my suggestion to go indoor skydiving. It looked like Rob really enjoyed it!

  3. It looks like you had a great time and you did not even have to repent!