Church Service

Nelson and I both grew up in very active homes and with parents who have spent many many hours serving in the gospel. When we got married there was no question how active we were going to be in the gospel. Our first calling married we had the opportunity to serve together as missionaries. It was so fun to be able to work together.

Three years of being married Nelson was put in as the 2nd counselor in the Bishopric. Oh these sure were some crazy times. When we added the 2nd child it definitely got worse. I told Nelson I was going to have some code signs so when I needed his help he could come off the stage and help me. It never happened but it sure was hard taking out a hyper active toddler (which had to be tucked under my arms like a football) and carrying a baby in the car carrier.

Nelson was able to serve in that great Bishopric for about 2 1/2 years and then it was time for our family to move. We moved to a home we had built in Farr West. It was funny because when Nelson got released he was able to sit by me a few times before we moved. Some of the older people in the ward made it a point to tell him that I did better in Sacrament with out him. I thought it was cute. We moved into our new ward and really enjoyed it. We learned that your ward is what you make of it. We put in a lot of effort and were able to meet a lot of the people in our neighborhood and ward.

We moved in our house 2 days before Christmas in 2005. About 6-7 months after we moved in we were working on the grass. Nelson had gone over to someones house in our neighborhood to cut out some grass. The next day we had sod coming and we were going to put some grass in our yard. That night we sat on our bed and talked through everything that still had to be done. Little did we know that everything we had planned out that night was soon to be changed. We ended up in the hospital the next morning because Nelson was in so much pain. We found out he had to have his appendix out.
It was a little humbling to me because we were in the hospital with Nelson while 10 or more people from the neighborhood were at our house putting in the sod. I had called my mom to give her an update (she was manning the house with the sod layers and the kids) and she told me the stake executive secretary was trying to get hold of us. My first thoughts were- "you have got to be kidding me!!" I knew what it was for- they were putting in a new bishopric in our ward the next day. As our day went on we learned the Stake Presidency wanted to meet with us that day. We got the visit and Nelson got called to be the First Counselor while he was in the hospital just coming out of surgery. We did have to laugh because what are the chances? They did say this was the first time they ever had to give a call in the hospital.

Nelson was able to serve for 3 years with 2 of the greatest men. He loved the people he served with. In 2009 our Stake was split and sad to say our awesome bishop Tyler was put in the Stake Presidency. Our hearts sank for lots of reasons when we heard this. It was a long 3 weeks with every ones speculations and comments. Two weeks after the change we were camping in Bear Lake with Nelson's family and got "the call". We were asked to meet with the Stake on Sunday. Our hearts sank. We were trying to be optimistic and think of everything it could be. We went in and met with the Stake. Nelson was called to be the bishop. WOW!! We cried and did we cry some more. I have to say that was one of the hardest weeks I have gone through. Lot of emotions that you go through and especially harder watching your husband feel so overwhelmed, wondering if he was really capable to bare this mantel.

I am writing all this not to brag by any means but because they are memories and we have learned so much from the experiences we have had. At some points I had felt that Nelson's church service was a bit of a trial. I have since learned through this and realized that I can't really count it as a trial when I am able to see all of the many many blessings we have received.

Yes it is true our kids have never really sat with their dad in church- but they do occasionally go sit on his lap on the stand.

Yes it is true that he is hardly ever home- but we have had to learn that our time spent is about the quality not the quantity. We have been able to do some fun things together as a family

Yes it is true that I have had to pick up most the responsibility of the home- but I have learned that heavenly father blesses me with the strength I need to run as fast as I need.

Yes it is true that Nelson has a lot of weight on him- I can see it in his eyes and his countenance. But he has the strength of Heavenly Father most to help him with whatever he goes through.

Yes it is true- we know we have a loving Heavenly Father. Our family has been so blessed to be strengthened by him, and so many great friends and neighbors. All of this out ways the sacrifices that we have had to make at times. We know it is worth it.

Yes it is true- our lives have been greatly touched and blessed by all the people we are surrounded by.

This is Nelson checking out the decorations put in our yard by the YW. (Feb 2010)














This has been our journey so far and we are so thankful for the lessons we have learned and the many friends that have blessed our lives.

Rock Climbing accident

As written by Nelson
Back in the day I was single and among the most available of coveted, available bachelors, and my siblings and I began the hobby of rock climbing. It seems that each dollar I earned that didn’t go to tithing or tuition, went to purchasing a new piece of equipment that would enhance the next climb. Soon, we collectively, had all the basic equipment needed to safely rock climb. In the fervor of a new, exciting hobby, mixed with the feeling of invincibility that comes with youth, perhaps the use of the proper equipment to safely climb was overlooked.
On September 15th, 1995, I had a date with a girl I met while working as an EFY counselor and thought rock climbing would be the perfect way to get to know each other. Spencer and Kenny Atkins came along, as was the normal practice of fun activities. Rarely did any of the Bowen kids ever do anything that didn’t involve at least one other sibling. We made our way to the outcrop of rocks at the top of 9th street in Ogden and began tying in.
As I had done many times before, I climbed to the top of the outcrop and doubly tied the knot into the bolts that were drilled deep into the quartzite. I then looped the double rope around the figure-eight and fastened it to my harness with a carabineer and backed my way over the edge of the 30 foot cliff. This has always been the most uneasy part of the experience for me. It always seemed to be the time when I had the least control; standing awkwardly at the edge where my control of gravity’s forces shifted from familiar to shaky. Due to the rope being doubled through the figure-eight, going over the edge would be slow. The friction enough that the weight of my body alone would not be enough to move down the wall’s face, so I would need to force feed the rope. As I leaned back, my body perpendicular to the cliff, I suddenly began to fall fast. Pulling the rope to my butt did nothing to slow me down which made me realize I was freefalling. In moments of danger or extreme intensity, many people say time slows down. I’m not sure how many seconds it took to hit the ground, but it was at least enough time to think to myself, “this is going to hurt”.
Spencer said that when I hit the ground I bounced. I deduced from what I remember, and Spencer’s account, that I lost consciousness for short time. Spencer took off immediately to call 911. This was before the days when everyone owned a cell phone so he sprinted down the mountain and without knocking, ran into the first house he came to. He said he heard the sirens almost the moment he left the house.
In my perception of all of this, I hit the ground and remember looking around and knowing I wasn’t in very good shape. The first thing I did was look up at my feet to wiggle my toes. In my naïve assessment, if I could wiggle my toes, I was going to be fine. Other climbers jumped into action and were yelling at me to not move at all. I, of course, was extremely uncomfortable but not in much pain. I guess in times of trauma, the body will give you a break and not let you feel the pain it should be in. Isn’t’ that called shock? While quickly assessing my injuries, the most obvious damage was my right arm. It was observably broken as it was fairly severely displaced. Though nothing else was visibly broken, I felt beat up, so I lay there on the ground, not moving, and waited for the paramedics to take me to the hospital. As I waited, I looked down to my crotch to see that I had wet my pants a little bit. Though I never was one to easily get embarrassed, I was on a date, so I placed my misshapen claw of a hand over the wet spot in an effort to hide it all. This wasn’t the last time that day I would be humiliated.
The wait for emergency services wasn’t too long. They bandaged me up, loaded me onto a board and carried me down the mountain, all the while being very uncomfortable. The most discomfort coming from a pain on my right butt cheek. I kept complaining of this so the paramedic felt for something and pulled a rock out of my back pocket.
We arrived at the hospital where I would meet an old high school acquaintance that would help me through much of the emergency room experience. They cut off my upper body clothing, in order to not disturb the injuries known and yet unknown, if any. After the initial assessments were complete, they carefully removed my shorts and under garments. As they did this, out plopped a turd the size of a fun size Baby Ruth. In the intensity of it all, I really didn’t care. It was merely another discomfort of the afternoon.
At this point my dad gave me a priesthood blessing that was brief and to the point. There was no time for embellishment or pomp. But Heavenly Father knew what I needed.
Soon, pressure built to the point of desperation in my bladder. After informing the nurse, she handed me one of those bottles with the angled necks. Stretched out for several minutes feeling the force of a hydrant but unable to release, my friend from high school approached with a catheter. He assured me that after only a moment of uncomfortable humiliation it would all be worthwhile. My bladder shrank and stopped hurting.
Though there is more to this story that could be told, perhaps I will stick to one last detail. The next day after the tumble, the doctors operated on my wrist to put two screws in my hand and two in my arm. They then put rods between them to keep the wrist completely immobilized. When I awoke from the anesthesia, I lay there and allowed the pain settle in. For whatever reason, I wasn’t allowed any more pain medicine for a certain amount of time and as the old stuff wore off, the hurt became so severe that I could hardly stand it. My tears flowed and I squirmed in agony. I’m not sure of where the pain came from. Maybe the wrist, maybe where the screws were bore into the bone or maybe both. As the nurse finally injected medicine into my IV, my dad made the comment that perhaps I was given an insight to what Jesus went through on the cross. Even at the time I remember that being a stretch, but I somehow, at that moment, felt closeness to Him and maybe I did know a fraction of what He experienced.
Time went on and I healed. The injures were, shattered right wrist, fractured left wrist, chipped right elbow, 4-6 vertebrae had compression fractures, and a split liver. The orthopedic surgeon predicted that I would have to have my wrist at least partially fused within ten years in order to deal with the pain of arthritis. It is now fifteen years after (at the time this was written) and I’m still going strong with very little discomfort and only very minor range of motion issues. Sometimes I have back pain, but no more than most people. There is no doubt I was blessed and protected. God even blesses the careless and stupid at times. Too many people to count showed compassion and love during that difficult time. When I’m watching the video of my life after I pass to the other side, I will watch in slow motion, pause, rewind and re-watch it all again.

Laura's younger memories

While I was spring cleaning I ran across some stories that were written by my parents. I was not sure if they really belonged on my blog, but did not know where else to put them. They are a lot like the rock climbing story- I did not want it to be lost. Here is the story told by my mom:

One day when Laura and Lisa were 3 years old their dad came home from work fro lunch and while he was eating these two sweet little busy girls went outside to play and decided to drive dad's car. After climbing in the car and taking it out of gear the car rolled down our very steep driveway, across the road, jumped the curb of our neighbors yard, went between 2 trees and over a large rock. Very luckily both girls were safe and upon jumping out of the car cried " I promise I will never drive dads car again."

Here is the story told by my dad:
Big wheels were an excitement when Laura and Lisa were growing up. Their driveway was perfect for it too. They could get at the top and on their big wheels fly down the driveway and out to the road. The big challenge besides staying upright on the big wheel was to be able to stop quickly. This they learned to solve by dragging their toes. This was hard on shoes and toes too. Bandages were not an in frequent adornment for their feet. But it was fun for them anyway and well worth the price and pain.