Sunday, February 5, 2017

Third Time's a Charm

I have a need for speed. Running, biking and yes, sometimes even driving; the wind in my face and the ground flying by can be an addictive rush. A rush my body craves and seeks out at some un opportune moments.

Today was one of those.

Three times in less than two hours I tried to sooth the broken hearted and failed. The sobbing infant, the defiant child and the sick boy who puked on my shoes before I could slow down enough to read their pain. 

They will all be okay. The infant had a dad, the defiant child was schooled by his mother and the sick boy is home tucked in bed. No real harm done, but a reminder none the less.

A reminder to slow down. More times than I wish, I've payed for my speed with my pride and hard earned cash. "I didn't mean to speed, Officer," has been my honest plea. But, as I drive away with that ticket tucked deep in my purse, I wish I would have headed the warnings; sometimes I'm going to fast for even those, but I know they were there. 

Today I saw the warnings. People know when they're being rushed through and checked off your list, especially the young ones. All is fine today, and as I ease up off the pedal, I am thankful for the warning.

Monday, January 30, 2017

The Strongest of Women

I am surrounded by the strongest of women.

At a time of social unrest,  when femininity is called into question by feminist themselves. When the power of united women is so great that it is used as a front for political agenda. A time where evil is dressed up, polished and sold as truth. At this time I look around where I stand and can't help but notice that I am surrounded by the strongest of women.

The woman who shows up, after 10 others have canceled, she shows up to her commitments. She shows up with four little ones in tow. She shows up with a newly broken heart and life lost in her womb. She shows up.

The women who listens and learns and wants to learn more. Learns so she can teach her children. Learns because there is so much to know. She learns and gives and fails and wins and learns.

The woman who does it all. Husband gone, four children on her own, full time high stress job and she does it all. She plans and balances and juggles and fights, and then chills with her pals to blow off steam.

The woman who willingly jumps in at the last minute and teaches like she breathes. Challenge accepted, and conquered....and all with sass.

The woman who lives and breathes so much like me and yet comes to such different conclusions. Willing to follow the spirit even though her mind comes highly qualified. Never does it the way I would, but does it perfectly every time.

The woman who pulls her family along, kicking and screaming and she just loves and pulls, and loves and pulls. Fixing cakes and fixing cars and going to school to get credit for what he has learned first hand.....and a smile that slays.

The woman who teaches with patience that never seems to end. Always seeming to know when to distract and when to be firm. When to ask for help and when to push on. I don't have to be young to learn from her.

The woman who comes back to what she was taught so many years ago, because that was where she was happy. Excitement and ability to see the joy in every moment. Loving life and so excited to share. Infectious joy.

The woman who takes more little ones than she can hold. Quietly and consistently she is there and with consistence, they become quiet consistently.

The woman who can't even walk tall, but walks taller than us all because she never stops serving. Who has lived a life full of so many experiences ups and downs, heartaches and sorrows. One who sees each individual and loves each individual.

The yet to be woman who bravely put herself out there only to fail. Who cried in my arms because she knew better than anyone that she failed. The one who will dry her eyes and keep moving on, because that's just what she does. I will watch her fly.

Sunday, May 22, 2016


I finally committed.

Dug up the soil, stripped of grass, turned and chopped and dug some more. To put this much work into a project, one must commit.

But the weeks have drawn on with questions of just that. Rumors of sure departure finally put to rest and here we will rest, at least for now.

So if this is where we are, why not put down some roots. Sink them deep in soil turned and rich with the richness of life spent.


Friday, February 19, 2016

Go with your gut

The gut is the new brain, have you heard?

Control your gut and you control the chemicals and hormones released in your body and brain.
Control the release of chemicals and hormones and you control your feelings and emotions.
Control your feelings and emotions and you control your thoughts.
Control your thoughts and you control your actions.
Control your actions and you control your destiny...

....or something like that.

Go with your gut...
I felt it in my gut...
My gut feeling...

Put the good stuff in...a wide variety and copious amounts.
Flush the bad stuff out. Movement is crucial.

Any serious runner already knows this. Train the lungs to breath deep and fast, the heart to pump effectively strong, the muscles to find stored energy in hidden places...but the gut...the gut is where it's at...the inner most strength. Those critical moments when all else is failing and done, your brain will play tricks on you to find an excuse to give up...compleate justification at the moment.  How bad do you want this? Just on the serface with the latest running gear soaked with sweat, or does it go deeper? Pass the working muscles and organs....is it in your gut?

"Let thy bowels be full of charity..., and let virtue garnish thy thoughts unceasingly; then shall thy confidence wax strong in the presence of  God.~Doctrine & Covenants 121:45

Charity in my gut. Is this my inner most desire? A force that can overcome fatigue, brain fog, and a broken heart.

Put the good stuff in.
Serve.
Pray.
Read.
Ponder.
Hope.

Flush the bad stuff out.
Repent.
Let go.
Forgive.
Find His rest.

Go with your gut.





Wednesday, October 15, 2014

Did it really happen


I fell asleep on the couch this morning after I dropped the kids off at school. In the middle of unpacked boxes and a kitchen buried in last nights dinner and all our life's paper work that still needs to be refiled. My stomach grumbled for my missed breakfast and I slept.

I haven't shaved my legs in three weeks, a record for even me because who has time? 

Not me.

I am buried in projects that can never be finished, things that can never be organized, and of course last nights previously mentioned dinner. 

I broke last night and cried at my kids; I don't think I've done that before. Cried with them, yes. Cried for them, yes. Cried in front of them…but not at them, blaming them for my inadequate self. 

So I slept. Maybe I really needed it, maybe I should have shaved my legs instead, or maybe I just needed an escape into nothing before I go back to everything again.

How long can it take to organize a house anyway? Week three is disappearing fast and here I am still trying to figure it out. It's not just a house after all, it's a home. One great thing about moving is the opportunity to start with a clean slate. Throw out the trash, question new bills and old schedules. Maybe get it right this time. I know it's worth the time.

I think back to a month ago to life in the hotel, or three months ago to life in Colorado and it feels foggy, distant and lost in all the emotion of moving and leaving a home that I didn't know would be a home and hoping that we can find that again. Sometimes making a new home feels disloyal to the old. 

I will always love the old. 

Buried on the couch I dreamt of walking through the woods in the rain (it always rains here) with my kids. As we came through the trees the scene opened up to a fast flowing creek making it's way down from the mountain peaks that were now right before us. The rain had turned to snow and it was beautiful. We turned in circles admiring our new surroundings and I knew it was put there for me. I also  knew it was a dream. I breathed deep, sucking it all in, daring it to be real; to prove itself to me. The snow was soft and cool, my nose was even started to feel cold. I held my kids hands and we turned around one more time as the horizon went flat again. I knew it would and I was grateful anyway. Grateful for that moment and grateful for this moment.

I just want to remember that.

Friday, September 12, 2014

home indeed



The ocean or the mountains;


 I always thought it would be one or the other.

But this…

this sea of trees where the humidity only hides imaginary peaks just out of reach. 

Home is where your rump rests….where your heart is…where your family is…where the soups on…where you park it…where I'm with you…

…home indeed.

No "thing" can make you happy.

Not the right school, not the weather, not a job, not a package in the mail, not the ocean, not the mountains, not even a house. 

I know, because I've been looking for that happy…

…that elusive peak just out of reach.


Sunday, December 15, 2013

Time to let go


We went to the ocean this summer. It had been calling me for so long. For a girl who was raised amongst mountain tops I wonder at the deep pull that immense salty place has on my soul. In the mountains I feel at home….they keep me oriented…I know where I am and where I need to go. I love the feeling of looking up at their depth and height and the awe of looking for miles from their towering peaks.




When we lived in the south and there wasn't a hill in sight I often felt desultory….like a stranger roaming and lost. The only comfort was at the ocean, feeling the salt on my skin and the wind on my face. It wasn't the same as my mountains that beg me to climb, to conquer, to be in them…feel the rugged path under my feet and grit under my nails.  I can't swim…not really, and the uncontrolled impulsive power of the waves scares me. Yet there I stand, as long as I can, watching the waves roll and crash; only my feet brave enough to withstand the teasing waves. It soothes my soul, clarifies my thoughts and orients my perspective. Even now as I sit here in my mountain home I feel the pull of the rolling tides.




"The Lord still moves mountains, and still calms the raging seas." I heard in church today.

It made me wonder (but not really wonder) why I find comfort in the things that only God can control.

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