I don't have a snappy title for this one...

This blog is about potential - I often have to remind myself of that fact. This post is a long one on potential so please bear with me. It's also a personal experience - and for that I apologize. I do ramble a bit and I might be up in the night about what I say, but...as all bloggers know, it's the risk we take.

I am about to expose you to potential on three fronts;

1. The potential for hatred.
2. The potential for fear.
3. The potential for confusion.
4. The potential for clarity and purpose.

The Sahauro Ranch Ward hosted a Ward Picnic last night. Our friends the Stowells reserved the double pavilion at Sundance Park in Peoria, AZ, weeks ago. Preparations for the event began a while back - anticipating a great turn out for ward conference and a last chance to hang out - outside - before it gets stinkin' hot.

We got a call from our friend, around 4:30, saying that she'd been to the park and that present the pavilion was occupied with some hostiles who refused to leave even when presented with the reservation paperwork. She shared that she called the Park Ranger, who'd be there at 5, but was worried about being there alone - would we come.

Worried about being alone in America, broad daylight on a Saturday. What has become of us?

So, we loaded up the fam, and drove to the park, waiting for our friend to arrive. I noted that the pavilion was indeed occupied by a couple of families who'd set up for what looked like a birthday party. Some were playing volleyball, others walking about and grilling, kids on the play structure. Seemed innocent enough.

I approached and introduced myself asking if they'd reserved the pavilion and if they knew if there was a conflict in events. They said they had no reservation and commented that they'd already let us know that they weren't leaving. I kindly offered to show them our permit and let them know that we had to set up as we had a church event, offering to help them move their party to the adjacent pavilion. It turns out that was a bad idea.

What followed was a verbal tirade of racial, sexual, physical and mental threats. I was approached by three men who circled me, spit on me, barked at me and threatened to kill me. The women in their group began to issue threats and verbal assaults on my wife and children, to include our friend and her children. I was encouraged to leave in so many different ways and on various different animals, accompanied by my wife who it turns out was an overweight harlot. This went on for about 3 minutes.

If you are trying to imagine the heightened nature of this situation - nightmarish comes to mind.

Now, come with me if you will to a place inside my heart and mind that only few, if any know about. I've always said to myself and to a few others, that if I had to, I could kill - in defense of my country and my family. I am trained to kill in a couple of different ways. I've a bit of a temper when it comes to threats on my life and on my wife's well-being. As these men surrounded me, I have to tell you that I don't remember a thing, except "going white". Everything went white. I could see shadows, I could hear the threats, I watched specifically for body language, and knew the precise position of my family members and friends. My own private hell.

The Park Ranger arrived and they began verbally assaulting her as well and she confronted them with potential fines and arrests for their current and past behaviors. All the while, I was reminded that my race and bible reading people were hated, that I was a coward and that I would be harmed in many different ways then and later in the night.

That's when I experienced fear. Not for me, but for the ward family, and for the family that was issuing the threats. I went to a place where, I knew I could do what had to be done if it had to be done. And I was ashamed of myself for it, but I didn't know what else to do or to think.

Three police officers arrived. Worthless. Confusion.

They politely escorted the threatening individuals away from the park and then proceeded to tell me that there was nothing that could be done about what had happened. They never bothered to take my name, ask me if I was armed, if I had warrants for my arrest, nothing. They did the same favor to the other offending party, allowing them to leave without questioning or gathering of information.

I live in a country where I am hated for who I worship and what I believe. I am hated for the color of my skin, moreover the lack thereof. I am hated for having a family who called the police in hopes to prevent anyone harm. I didn't even know I was hated for those things, at those levels. All for a pavilion and a birthday cake.

I am embarrassed that I did nothing to defend the honor of my wife and children. I am embarrassed that I stood alone and allowed men to bark at me and spit on me and did nothing. I am ashamed that I am still angry and that I want some time alone with those men.

As the night progressed, ward members arrived, getting snippets and sound bites of what happened. I didn't really speak with anyone about what happened. I couldn't. Brigham said this amazing prayer, asking for protection, and I admit wondering if it was enough.

Some said they wished they had been there. I am not so sure about that. I would never want anyone to hear what I heard or be faced with the choice I made to do nothing or do something and lose everything.

Some were brazen enough to joke about it - and that made me wonder about what else people find funny. I was struck by the vocalized negativity all around me, all night, and even made attempts to stifle it. I'd had my share of negativity for the night - for a lifetime - but some people feed on that mess. What?

We made it home without incident. I watched my rear view and checked my site lines at the gas station, keeping my movements fluid and my patterns deliberate.

We talked about it as a family when we got home. My son was worried that they were going to take me away and Elle was angry that they yelled at her. Jamie wanted to feed me, and I just sat there.

Elle moaned all night, and Jamie and I traded fits of sleep with wide-eyed wonderment over the noises on the street.

In America. Peoria, Arizona.

I wrote the BlueFalcons of the Peoria Arizona Police Department. I wrote the Mayor of every Sanctuary City in Arizona. I've confronted people smoking pot in the park at a family reunion. I've confronted people smoking pot in front of my YM at Havasupai. I will continue to do so.

The battle rages all around us. Good versus evil. Make no mistake, when we try to endeavor to do great things, we will encounter adversity. If we are not prepared, we may not triumph.

I follow Thomas S. Monson, the living prophet of God. I believe in Christ. I do not apologize for who I am or what I believe. I love my family. I live for them, for my friends, and for tomorrow - whatever it brings.

I understand why I was there. It was about destroying or corrupting our ward. It was about the battle that rages all around us. About our temple. About our families. I know understand that I was protected. My family and friends were protected. We were surrounded by the adversary. I know it. I know now that it was not my battle to fight, not that day. It was mine to represent, and I hope that I didn't let my wife and children down.

"First they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out --
Because I was not a Socialist.

Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out --
Because I was not a Trade Unionist.

Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out --
Because I was not a Jew.

Then they came for me -- and there was no one left to speak for me."

-Martin Niemuller

Martin was a Protestant Pastor in Germany during WWII. Someone you should know.