Words from the Wingmen

Dearly Beloveds,

Welcome to the first installment of my Autumn letters, in which we: eat exorbitant amounts of (free) food; frolic with family; get sick from frolicking with family, losing aforementioned free food; frolic with friends; and cast our eyes towards the fires in the hills.

The last three weeks or so, the hills south of Provo blazed with fires kicked up almost overnight by strong winds. At twilight, the horizon glowed ochre and an overflowing wave of smoke swept out from the canyons and over the valley. Nearly every morning, when I walked outside for my bike ride to the law school, the air smelled like a campfire. Thankfully, a conglomerate of firefighters from surrounding states (almost 1000 strong at one point) stopped the flames only yards short of communities in Payson and Springville, and residents returned to their homes at the end of this week.

The law school and graduate studies society at BYU continue to treat us to dinner, lunch, and breakfast. This last week alone, I ate three free lunches, one breakfast, and one dinner. The week before: four lunches, a breakfast, and a dinner. One of the dinners celebrated all the BYU graduate programs, and AnneMarie and I enjoyed a night out together. They had food, and a speech or two, but being on a date with AnneMarie far-excelled both of those elements. The keynote speaker—who seemed like the nicest guy in the world—prepared a dissertation on the six years of his life he spent in graduate school, complete with a timeline, and ended his speech by saying “The one thing I can tell you is it’s going to be interesting. Thank you.” He was interesting, as were—alas—the small eggs on the underside of my lettuce. Unfortunately, we weren’t sitting next to any graduate entomologists that could help me identify them. This week, the graduate students’ society threw a picnic, so Nora got in on the free-food fun as well.

 Last Friday, we had a BLAST at Josh Hutchins’ football game: Pleasant Grove vs. Bingham. The game was a thriller, especially since Bingham ranks in the top teams of the state, and Pleasant Grove fields a pretty good squad as well, in particular, a certain DE with American-flag socks. Josh gave the Bingham offense woe all night because he was faster than the big offensive lineman across from him. Before they could get their hands off the ground, he was already slipping through to chase the RB and QB. PG barely lost, but we enjoyed it nonetheless and loved spending time with Ben, Joy, and Sister Tenney.

 Between Relief Society ministering interviews and activities, Law School Spouse Association book club meetings (Agatha Christie’s Mysterious Affair at Styles), and our nearly-walking Nora, AnneMarie stays BUSY, but busy is good. She helped throw a marriage panel activity this week where I heard the greatest entertainment was comments from the older sisters.

Last Saturday, we attended a surprise birthday party for my missionary trainer and good friend Parker Bennett. Nora got into it with one of the other infant attendees, but, to be fair, it was because the other girl kept taking her stuffed animal. Nora has zero fear of leaping on top of an older child to defend her territory. She literally growled at the girl... Advantage, wolf-baby.

We also recently played the most intense game of Murder in the Dark, in the dark. The bodies piled up, screams were let off (we won’t say by who) and it was a rollicking good time well into the night.

The Flu arrived early this year and took down everyone in its reach. Somehow, I escaped the worst symptoms, but AnneMarie and Nora weren’t so lucky the last couple of days. Thankfully, it mostly hit us on the weekend. Nora, waking up in her own vomit at one in the morning, didn’t seem to mind and was ready to play.

Lastly, since I do not have a calling, I called myself to sing in the choir. We have a marvelous, enthusiastic choir director, Brother Petersen who teaches Korean at BYU. We sang Phillip Bliss’s “It is Well with My Soul” in church this week. I’ve copied the Mormon Tabernacle Choir’s story of the hymn and the verses below as a thought this week:

“Horatio Spafford knew something about life’s unexpected challenges. He was a successful attorney and real estate investor who lost a fortune in the great Chicago fire of 1871. Around the same time, his beloved four-year-old son died of scarlet fever.

Thinking a vacation would do his family some good, he sent his wife and four daughters on a ship to England, planning to join them after he finished some pressing business at home. However, while crossing the Atlantic Ocean, the ship was involved in a terrible collision and sunk. More than 200 people lost their lives, including all four of Horatio Spafford’s precious daughters. His wife, Anna, survived the tragedy. Upon arriving in England, she sent a telegram to her husband that began: “Saved alone. What shall I do?”

Horatio immediately set sail for England. At one point during his voyage, the captain of the ship, aware of the tragedy that had struck the Spafford family, summoned Horatio to tell him that they were now passing over the spot where the shipwreck had occurred.

As Horatio thought about his daughters, words of comfort and hope filled his heart and mind. He wrote them down, and they have since become a well-beloved hymn.”

When peace like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll
Whatever my lot, thou hast taught me to say
It is well, it is well, with my soul

Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come,
Let this blest assurance control,
That Christ has regarded my helpless estate,
And hath shed His own blood for my soul

My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought
My sin, not in part but the whole,
Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, o my soul

Love,

Tanner, AnneMarie, and Nora