indeterminate mind

           So I’m lying in bed tonight and I can’t stop thinking about the first person I would have called my best friend, Mark.   And other than seeing his name on facebook a few months ago and sending him a friend request, I haven’t thought about him in years.   Mark has always been my most daring friend.   He always had drive and ambition, which helped him always be able to excel in whatever he did especially if what he was doing required physical agility.   But we haven’t even spoken for nearly 20 years, so why do I lay in bed thinking about him now? I don’t remember for sure if I was 4 or 5 when I met Mark, but I suspect around 4.   He lived down the street from me about 11 houses away.   I remember I could ride my big wheel to his house.   Mark was fun to play with, he had a great imagination and could pretend he was superman, or a BMX Bike rider, or a Quarterback, or whatever.   Our Imaginations complimented each other.   I was a dreamer, I liked to live in the world in my

Years ago my Father gave me a book by James E. Faust called “To Reach Even unto You”.   It was a collection of his speeches over the years.   He told me to read it because he had just finished it and it had helped him quite a bit.   (It was a time in my life when I was quite confused and was struggling with a lot of tough life issues.)   I took the book and let it sit for a while.   It stared at me, night after night, from my dresser where I had flung it.   One night after some significant arguments with my parents I lay in bed fuming.   I wondered why my life had to be so hard.   I wondered why things did not seem to be working out the way I planned them.   I reached over and picked up the book which seemed to have alerted itself to my awareness.   Not sure how, it just seemed to stand out from the other objects scattered around my room.   When I opened it a page had been turned down and made the book open up to that page.   The page corner had been put back into the proper place,