Tomorrow’s FIFA match is France vs England, and honestly… my Acadian ancestors are probably warming up in the celestial bleachers. France is stretching, England is smirking, and I’m over here remembering juice boxes, orange slices, and tiny cleats flying in every direction.
My kids played soccer, baseball, and did scouts — so I’ve spent years cheering from folding chairs, pretending I understood the rules, and celebrating every goal like it was the World Cup. So if I yell at the TV tomorrow, it’s purely muscle memory.
May France and England battle it out with dignity… and may my ancestors forgive me if I cheer for whichever team has the cutest uniforms. 🇫🇷🇬🇧
Maybe you’ll set a goal for this new year. Some people choose a word to represent their intentions for the year ahead. This year, our family will be focusing on the same verse of scripture: Moses 6:34, “Walk with me.” This was an invitation given to the prophet Enoch.
As Enoch journeyed through the land, the Spirit of God rested upon him. Then the Lord spoke to him. He taught him about His plan of happiness, which would give purpose and meaning to life. Everyone longs to have better and deeper meaning and purpose in their lives. When the Lord finished describing His plan, He gave Enoch an invitation: “Walk with me.”
As you journey through this new year, maybe you’ll find yourself looking for happiness, purpose, and meaning. We could all learn from Enoch’s story and invite the Lord to be part of our journeys this year, no matter where we go…or stay.
As you might already know, I have been dealing with Chronic Kidney Disease. I’m thankful to still be here, as I’ve got much to do. I hope to use my time wisely, so I’ll be ready when the time comes.
You could choose to walk with Him. As you do, blessings await. I’m sure each of us will be better for it, if we determine for ourselves that we will walk with the Lord.
From my manuscript, The Covenant Fire, a Christian/LDS YA Apocalyptic Novel with loads of exciting adventure. To be published soon!
Chapter 1, paragraph 4.
The ground heaved, a beast awakening. Hymnbooks crashed, a child’s scream pierced the air. Sarah’s training snapped in—she gripped the pew, eyes locking on exits. “Stay calm!” she barked, voice slicing through gasps. A young man nearby, Ethan Caldwell, 28, dropped his leather journal, ink smearing as the quake roared. Beams splintered, stained glass exploded in a rain of crimson shards. The Tabernacle groaned, its 164-year-old frame buckling.
Salt Lake LDS Temple
“Down!” Sarah yelled, sprinting down the aisle. A light fixture swung, nearly clipping her. She scooped up a wailing boy, dodging falling plaster, her shoulder slamming a pew. Pain seared, but she shielded him, scanning for safety. “To the exit!” she shouted, clutching the kid tight.
Ethan pushed through the chaos, waving people toward a side door. Their eyes met briefly—his hazel gaze intense, almost knowing. She handed the boy to his sobbing mother, panting. “Good move,” he said, voice steady. “Military?”
“Ex-Army,” she snapped, as the ground lurched again. They ducked under a pew, the air thick with dust. Outside, the Salt Lake Temple’s spire swayed, the Angel Moroni teetering, skyscrapers collapsing in glittering bursts. A gas main erupted, fire licking the horizon, screams blending with sirens.
(Fully written, but not yet published. To Be Continued)
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