Craig Decker

During my sophomore year at BYU (which came before my freshman year at SUU, for those of you who might be confused), I sang in a small extracurricular choir run by some grad students.  I don't remember too much about the experience--it was just a once-a-week commitment for a few months of my life.  Two important things came from that venture, however.  First, it was during a performance of this choir that I decided to major in music.  Second, it was there that I met Craig Decker.

Just a few months before I met Craig, he had lost his right hand in a freak accident involving faulty fireworks in Mexico.  I didn't know this when we met--I assumed he was an amputee of many years, because he handled his loss with such grace and humor.  I remember his Facebook profile picture was of this guy, who also made the most of not having a right hand:

Craig was one of the most positive, pleasant people I'd met.  My interactions with him were limited, but enough to show me the power of a positive attitude.  Before a performance, we were all asked to carry our folders onto the stage in our right hands for uniformity.  Craig asked, "Would it be okay if we switched hands?  Some of us are lefties."

My brief encounter with this remarkable person helped me to realize how far a positive attitude can go.  Since then it has become a core aspect of my identity and a most valued piece of my life philosophy.

About a year after I'd last seen Craig, I learned that he had died at age 25 in another freak accident, a drowning while boating with his family.  As I explored one link after another from the news story reporting his death, I learned that Craig's sphere of inspiration was a lot broader than I'd ever imagined.  After losing his hand, he had adjusted remarkably well, determined to make the most of the situation.  He started a YouTube channel devoted to helping amputees adjust to their new lives.  He posted instructive videos on how to do everyday things like open jars, tie shoes, etc, with just one hand or using a prosthetic hook.  He wrote motivational words, sharing his testimony of Jesus Christ and how it had helped him through his transition.

The response was amazing.  Hundreds of responses to Craig's posts revealed a glimpse of the range of his positive influence.  I was absolutely blown away by this example of how far-reaching one person's impact can be.  When Craig lost his hand, he could've reacted in any of a wide range of ways.  He chose the reaction that would bless hundreds or thousands of lives.

You can read more about Craig's story here, and here.  One of these articles states: "Decker's sphere of influence reached farther than his parents imagined." That's for sure.  I wonder how many casual acquaintances like me were forever changed by knowing him.  Thanks to Craig's example I understand just how important each life on this earth can be.  We are here to make a difference.  I'm grateful to Craig for making that difference for me.

Camille Gamboa

I love teaching.  I love helping people to open their minds to something new, or grasp a concept, or develop a skill.  I particularly love teaching the gospel.  My spiritual knowledge is my most prized possession, and I love sharing it and helping others to find the same joy it brings me.

I didn't always feel that way.  When I was young, I had debilitating physical symptoms of nervousness every time I stood up to speak publicly.  Sometimes I felt the nerves were under control, and even felt confident and looked forward to speaking--and then inevitably, the moment I started I would turn bright red and start shaking and crying.  It was awful.

Then as a Laurel I was asked to speak at Stake Conference in front of thousands of people.  I really wanted to do a good job and have a good experience, so I prepared and prayed like crazy, pleading for God to help me to overcome my nerves and deliver a message that would be of help to someone.  The talk went great, and began the series of events that led me to appreciate the awesomeness of teaching the gospel.

By the time I served a mission in Chile, I enjoyed teaching, and had begun to recognize the power of a teacher's influence on others.  However, it wasn't until I met my friend Camille Gamboa that it really sunk in.

Hermana Gamboa's reputation preceded her.  One of the first things I heard from my Mission President's mouth on my arrival to Chile was praise for Hermana Gamboa's recent achievements.  She was well-known in the mission for her successes, which I won't get into now--since the point of this post is to thank her, not embarrass her to death.  In the second area of my mission she and I and our companions shared a house.  We got to be great friends.  I will never forget how much I enjoyed jogging with her each morning.

One day she was asked to give a talk in Sacrament Meeting.  I don't remember what it was about.  I remember the fire in her eyes and the love in her expression as she poured out her heart to the members of the San Javier branch.  I remember looking around at a room full of engaged, concentrated faces.  I remember feeling that for a moment she had succeeded in touching their souls and inspiring them to fight for a better life and a better world.

How often as members of the Church do we groan when asked to give a talk or a lesson?  How often is our goal simply to get through it with as little discomfort as possible?  I realized on that day what a mistake this is.  No opportunity to teach in the Church should ever be taken lightly.  Every lesson has the potential to change someone's life.  I determined on that day, as I listened to Hermana Gamboa's talk, that I would not be content with mediocrity in my own teaching efforts.  I would do everything in my power to seize each opportunity to provide the answer to someone's prayers.  I'm grateful to Camille for teaching me that lesson, and I'm grateful to God for placing her in my path.

By Way of Introduction

A year or two ago, I was pondering some of the defining moments in my life--the moments when I saw, did, or learned something that changed a little piece of who I am.  In my reflection I realized that at the hub of each of those moments stood a person--a friend, a family member, an acquaintance, or a stranger--who provided me with a life-altering example or provoked some new way of thinking.

There are plenty of prominent figures in my life who have greatly shaped who I am.  If I've succeeded in communicating it to them, my family and close friends know that they've had a great influence on me.  However, what interested me more was realizing the vast number of people who probably have no idea what they've done for me.  In brief moments when our paths have crossed, they have made a lasting impression on me.  To quote from the Wicked song, "For Good":

"It well may be that we will never meet again in this lifetime, so let me say before we part: so much of me is made from what I learned from you.  You'll be with me like a hand-print on my heart."

I made a list of these people, to which I've been adding ever since.  I've written notes to some of them to tell them about their example, but most of them still don't know.  Many of them never will.  But I wanted to create this blog so that I can share my thanks with someone.  So that I can let whoever cares enough to read it know about these people who have made a difference in my life.  So that you can see the power you have in the lives of those around you.

To those on my list: although most of you will never see this blog, I want to thank you.   Life is about relationships.  Life is about people, and what we can learn from them.  My interactions with you and others like you have made up the most beautiful parts of my little walk on this earth!