Homemaking Tip—This is a recording . . .

A few weeks ago our computer made a popping noise and died. It took a week of rebooting, rewiring, and restoring. When it died, I knew there was a chance I might lose a year’s worth of journals. I deserved it. I knew the rules of making back-ups. I had been slothful. I consoled myself that there was a plethora written on my blog and weekly newsletter and my posterity would be relieved not to have more to read.

And then . . . and then . . . I remembered something written in that journal that isn’t recorded anywhere else. Taking the counsel of Henry B. Eyring I had started to record when/where I had seen the hand of the Lord in our daily living. If I lost those journals I would also lose those quiet, blessed writings. That made me sad. I wasn’t consoled. I was bummed, that is . . . until the computer was fixed and my journals were safe.

Ty also keeps a journal and occasionally sends me an entry. I noticed in the last entry he sent that he has an organized format for recording. I’m going to adopt that and thought you might find the idea of an organized format helpful, too. Ty has three areas that he daily records:

Studies: what he has learned that day

Service/Hand of the Lord: opportunities to serve, or an experience where he recognized the hand of the Lord, or both

Daily: events, trivia, thoughts of the day

One of the good things about recording in a journal is it makes me more aware. Experience deems it so. I subconsciously became more aware of the special little things in life once I began writing about them. So when this experience happened last week, I thought, “No wonder . . .”


We were moving Grace home from Colorado. The pick-up and U-haul trailer were stacked high and deep. Ty rode in the back seat with me. I sat in the middle because my legs are three inches shorter than Ty’s. Next to me were uniforms, computer equipment, and Tiffany goblets in an aqua box which pushed me over and into Ty's space. He never once said scoot over or that I was squishing him. He offered to take the middle every stop. In short; Ty and I were welded at the side for 25 hours and he wasn't cross once. (Okay, neither were Calvin and Grace but they were up front.)

On one long, dry, uneventful (yea, even boring) stretch of road in Wyoming, there was a truck in front of us that said, “How’s my driving? Call 1-800-blah, blah, blah.”

After we followed him for several miles, Ty picked up his phone and called. This is what I heard: “Hello my name is Ty. I’m somewhere out in the middle of Wyoming and one of your trucks with license plate number blah, blah, blah, is doing a very fine job of driving today. I just wanted you to know. Thank you.”

Oh ho. I’ve seen that call to call a hundred times and haven’t once done it. Because Ty often records opportunities for service I think he sees them more. Recording makes you aware.