Birds, Squirrels, and Me

I have a bird feeder that my children gave me after Kelly passed. It has a little camera on it so I can watch the birds that come to visit. It’s brought me a lot of comfort — but also one big problem: the squirrels. They show up uninvited, bold as ever, acting like the feeder was made just for them.

I’ve tried more than ten different ways to keep them away. Every idea, every gadget, every “guaranteed” solution has failed. The squirrels don’t care what the advertisements say. They climb, jump, stretch, and wiggle their way to the food every single time.

Sometimes, when I have a moment, I watch the camera and as soon as I see a squirrel, I run outside to chase it off. At this point, I think it’s fair to say I’ve become the crazy squirrel lady. I laugh at myself, but it’s true.

Lately, though, I’ve realized I can’t keep fighting this battle. The squirrels are going to come whether I like it or not. So I’m learning to accept the uninvited guests. The birds still come. The squirrels still come. And somehow, there’s room for all of them. One of these days, I may try relocating the feeder or even giving the squirrels their own food source — but for now, I’m choosing peace.

Sometimes life brings things we never asked for and would never choose. These moments arrive like uninvited guests, settling themselves right into the middle of our days. Our first instinct is often to fight, to fix, to control every detail so nothing feels out of place. But all that striving can leave us exhausted and discouraged.

There comes a point when we realize that some things simply won’t bend to our will, no matter how hard we try. And in that moment, we’re given a choice. We can keep wrestling with what we cannot change, or we can loosen our grip and allow a little peace to enter the room.

When we choose acceptance, something shifts. The situation may not change, but our hearts do. Even in the middle of uninvited trials, blessings still find their way to us with small comforts, unexpected joys, quiet reminders that we’re not alone. 

Sometimes acceptance isn’t letting go of hope;

 it’s making room for a new kind of hope.

Glasses and Eggs: Real love doesn’t require sameness

 

After we were married, Kelly unloaded the dishwasher one day and put all the glasses away with the openings facing up. I noticed it immediately and said, “Haven’t you seen that I always put the glasses face down?” He smiled that gentle, knowing smile of his and replied, “I see you’ve noticed that I don’t.” That moment still makes me smile. It was such a perfect picture of us, two people who loved each other deeply, even when we did things differently.

We had other little differences too. One of them involved something as simple as eggs. I always emptied the carton from one side, working my way across. But Kelly liked to take eggs from both sides to keep the carton balanced. It used to bother me, and I’d quietly rearrange them the way I preferred.

Funny how time softens things.

Now that Kelly has passed away, I find myself doing it his way. I take eggs from both sides, just like he did. And instead of feeling annoyed, I smile. These tiny habits, once insignificant, have become tender reminders of the man I love.

None of these things ever caused contention. They were just small differences in the rhythm of our life together. I might have grumbled inwardly, but I’d simply change it and move on. Now, I wouldn’t change it for anything.

Grief has a way of turning the ordinary into something sacred. A cupboard of glasses, some face up, some face down. An egg carton emptied from both sides. These simple moments have become gentle echoes of a life shared, a love lived, and a companion dearly missed.

And in these quiet reminders, I feel both Kelly’s love and the Lord’s tender mercy, teaching me that love endures in the smallest, most unexpected places.

Real love doesn’t require sameness. It simply makes space. These everyday actions become symbols of a life shared and hearts still connected.

I miss my beloved Kelly!

1 John 3:18 

My little children, let us not love in word, niether in tongue; but in deed and in truth.

or  

“Dear children, let us not love with words or speech but with actions and in truth.” 

Love is shown in the way we live, not just what we say.

When the Roads Freeze, Hearts Thaw

 Every so often, Texas gets quiet. The roads ice over, plans pause, and the usual rush slows to a gentle crawl. And in that stillness, something beautiful happens.

Moms bundle up and head outside with their kids. Makeshift sleds appear, laundry baskets, pool floats, even cardboard boxes, tied behind pickup trucks and pulled through the neighborhood with laughter trailing behind. The air is cold, but the joy is warm.

It’s a rare kind of day. One where time bends a little, and families find themselves together in ways they hadn’t planned. No schedules. No errands. Just tiny snowflakes on top of iced covered land providing different kinds of activities.

We may only see ice or snow once a year, but when we do, it reminds us to slow down. To enjoy the moment, to be present with the people we love.

It’s a  gentle nudge to pause, to gather, to remember what matters most.  In the laughter, we feel the joy God intended for families. And in the unexpected pause, we find a sacred kind of rest.

Maybe that’s the real gift of a frozen road.

A Broken Spatula and a Full Heart

Today, my long‑used spatula broke. It may seem like such a small thing, but it was my favorite. I’m not even sure why, I just liked it. It fit my hand perfectly, flipped pancakes just right, served up meals with ease, and quietly helped me through countless ordinary days.

As I thought about replacing it, tears welled up because this wasn’t just a spatula. It was the one I used to prepare many meals for Kelly and me. It stirred more than food tonight; it stirred memories.

Now that Kelly has passed, this simple kitchen tool carries a weight I never expected. It’s a reminder of love, of shared routines, of our everyday time together . Today, as it broke, I felt the ache of loss in a new way.

Grief shows up in the most unexpected places. Today, it was the spatula. It’s still usable in a gentle way, and I will find another one, but this one will stay with me for the rest of my life. I never would have guessed that something so small could trigger such a powerful reminder of my love for my dear, sweet companion.

I also felt something else. A quiet reassurance that the Lord is aware of me, even here in my kitchen, holding a broken utensil and the tender memories that go with my spatula. He knows how deeply I love Kelly, and He honors those feelings.  Nothing good is ever lost to Him. Not love. Not memory. Not the life Kelly and I built together.

One day, all broken things will be made whole again. Until then, even a spatula can become a reminder that love endures, and that God walks with me through every small, unexpected corner of grief.

Striving to Walk Forward with Joy

I miss my dear beloved husband who passed away peacefully in 2024. We had just celebrated 45 years of marriage and 54 years of friendship. Stepping into this new season of being alone has made me search deeply for purpose. It hasn’t changed, and yet it has.            

Some days, the quiet feels heavy. I’m aware of the empty spaces that used to be filled with movement, conversation, and shared life. But even in those tender moments, Heavenly Father reminds me that I am never truly alone. Through small, unexpected gifts, an email, a phone call, a message online, a song, or a scripture that speaks straight to my heart, He whispers, “I’m here. I hear you.” My prayers are known. My needs are seen. And often, His love reaches me through the people who love me most.

I think back to the day Zach and Connor came to visit. I wasn’t sure how we’d keep everyone happy, but it turned into pure joy. We built a fort, played with the microphone and electric piano, and eventually gave in to the irresistible urge to run and jump. I became the announcer while my little daredevils performed their stunts, laughing and tumbling with delight. It was simple, happy, and healing.

I miss the days when my own children were small, but grandchildren fill that space in the sweetest way. When I think of Kathryn, Hannah, Sadie, Elijah, Riley, Asher, Zach, Connor, Wesley, Elijah, Alie, Gavin, Tanner, Jackson, Alex, William, Kyler, Maggie, Ellie, Addie, and Oakley, my heart feels full. Each one is a gift from Heavenly Father, a reminder of His goodness and the legacy of love He allows us to build.

There is a joy that fills the soul, not just in celebrations, but in the everyday moments of family life: shared laughter, running hugs, stories around the table, whispered prayers, and love that deepens through time.

Family is where we learn to love, forgive, serve, and grow. It is the sacred classroom of eternity. And what makes this joy even more profound is knowing it doesn’t end here.
Because of the Plan of Happiness, we know that family is not just a mortal blessing, but an eternal promise. Through Jesus Christ, we can return home together. That knowledge brings hope to grief, meaning to sacrifice, and light to our darkest days.

This is what life is about, loving deeply, living faithfully, and walking forward with joy, hand in hand with those we cherish, and with the Savior who makes it all possible.

 Need to update these pics!

The Lord adds weight not to burden us, but to balance us.

We always have the opportunity to learn and to grow. But just as the physical body can become injured or paralyzed, our emotional and spiritual selves can also become immobilized. During trials, I sometimes find myself unable to do the things I once did with ease. Striving to look forward to a new season of life with a positive outlook, only to suddenly feel handicapped, stalled on the path I thought I was ready to walk.

When the body loses its former abilities, a person can either sink into discouragement or begin the hard work of learning how to function within new limitations. I’ve seen remarkable people rise above physical challenges and create extraordinary lives. Their courage inspires me, especially when I recognize moments where I’ve allowed my own trials to paralyze me emotionally or spiritually. At times, the pain has felt so heavy that I could hardly move forward. I’ve always had a long list of things I hoped to accomplish, yet finding the motivation to push ahead has sometimes been its own trial.

We don’t need to compare or detail our individual hardships to understand that every one of us goes through a refining process. Trials often force us to find a new way to walk, physically, emotionally, or spiritually. Life can feel unbalanced, demanding more of us in one area than we feel able to give. And just when we think we’re carrying all we can, it may seem the Lord asks us to do even more.

As I pondered this, a simple lesson came to mind, one that helped me understand balance and the way the Lord works with us.

Think of weights.

A barbell is easiest to lift when the weight is evenly distributed on both sides. When the bar is balanced, the lifter can keep it steady and parallel to the ground. But when the weight is uneven, even if the total weight is less, it becomes harder to lift. The body strains to compensate, and the effort required is far greater.

 Not only was the bar easier for the lifter when the weight was proportionate.  With effort, an uneven weighted bar can be lifted but the work required takes more energy as the body tries to compensate for the difference.  It is actually harder to lift and maintain, even though the sum of the weight is less than when both sides were equal in weight.

This physical truth mirrors a spiritual one.

When we look at the “weightier matters” of our lives, work, family, children, school, home responsibilities, study, prayer, we often see imbalance. We feel overloaded on one side and under-supported on the other. We feel like the weightlifter who already has more than he can bear, and then the Lord seems to add something else to the bar.

But here is the miracle:
The Lord adds weight not to burden us, but to balance us.

       A gift from the Lord to help us make life easier to bear. 

      No matter what is going on in our lives, the Lord wants us to succeed.  The perceived added weight is really a blessing from him whether we can see or feel it to be at the time.

I am learning more than ever to apply the many things I have been taught. Druing times of trials I have had to learn a new way to accomplish task and responsibilities in my life.  The gospel is a gospel of action.  I can think about all the good things I want to do, and hope to do, but if I must find a way to do them, 

I am convinced the Lord is more willing to do things for us than we are willing to allow Him to do. If we are faithful and diligent, the Lord will provide a way for us to accomplish what He has commanded. 

Remember the words of Nephi in 1 Nephi 3:7, to go and do.  I want to go and do what the Lord wants me to do and I know that He will provide a way.

The Stewardship of My Thoughts

 I have long believed in the power of a good attitude. I’ve tried to make it a habit to look for the green grass right where I stand, to notice blessings, to choose gratitude, to keep hope and optimism close to my heart. And yet, I’m not always successful. Some days the grass looks dry, the sky feels heavy, and my thoughts wander into places I’d rather not dwell.

But even in those moments, I’m learning that the effort itself matters. The reaching. The trying. The turning of my face toward the light, even when clouds make it hard to see. A good attitude isn’t about pretending everything is perfect; it’s about trusting that God is present in the imperfect. It’s choosing to believe that He can water the ground beneath my feet, even when I feel weary.

Hope grows slowly, but it grows. And on the days when my optimism falters, His grace fills the gap. I don’t have to be perfect. I just have to keep turning toward Him

Years ago, while sharing some of my struggles with my beloved mother, she gave me counsel I have never forgotten: “Think eternally.” She encouraged me to ask myself whether the things troubling me would have any impact on salvation. That simple perspective has helped me weed out thoughts and activities that do not lead me toward my eternal goals. But when storms rage, that clarity becomes harder to hold. Thoughts can pull us downward just as easily as they can lift us upward.

Sometimes life forces us to create new pathways in our minds because something unexpected has changed the direction we hoped to go. What I envisioned for my future has not always unfolded as planned. Mortality brings surprises, and change is rarely easy.

Since the human brain cannot replace something with nothing, unwanted thoughts must be replaced with something better. When negativity or self‑pity creeps in, I have the power to redirect my mind, but knowing and doing are not always the same. Resisting a thought often strengthens it. If I’m trying to avoid ice cream, thinking about how much I want it only increases the craving. But if I replace the thought with something uplifting or engaging, the desire loses its grip. Thoughts trigger images, and images trigger action.

This doesn’t mean ignoring real problems. A friend once gave me a vivid example: if you see a dangerous man in the corner holding a machete, covering your eyes doesn’t make him disappear. Likewise, ignoring a problem doesn’t solve it. Some situations require deliberate thought, planning, and courage.

Learning to manage my thoughts is a lifelong effort. I try to focus on what I want to do rather than what I want to avoid. It reminds me of parenting: instead of simply saying no to a child, we redirect them toward something better. Older children still need guidance, but in a way that helps them learn to choose wisely. Heavenly Father leads us the same way, inviting, guiding, offering better paths.

Another problem that can occur with our problem solving is the tendency to want the solution NOW!  It is hard to be patient when we know what we want and can't or don't have it.  But being patient and using our thoughts to help us find answers may not come all at once.  It's usually a process when confronted inch by inch they say it is a cinch, but yard by yard is hard.  Sometimes resolution comes by taking steps to reach that destination.  We are all on a journey here and line upon line, precept upon precept will help us reach our goals.

Leonardo da Vinci said, “Simplicity is the ultimate form of sophistication.” I love that thought. Simplicity clears space for clarity, peace, and purpose.

Overcoming the natural man is not about eliminating it, but learning to govern it. Hard experiences can harden us or soften us. They can make us bitter or make us divine. Earl Nightingale taught that our goals lie in the future, and our task is to build a bridge from where we are to where we want to be. Sometimes we build that bridge in the wrong place, or without the tools we need, or we try to build it alone. I know where I want to go, but I am still gathering the tools and seeking the direction that will lead me where Heavenly Father wants me to be.

When this mortal life is over, I will be the product of my thoughts, choices, and desires. We are commanded to love God with all our mind. Our minds guide our bodies, and what we do with our bodies leads to happiness or misery. As we remain worthy, the Spirit teaches us how to think. What we desire and dwell upon shapes our eternal destiny.

George Albert Smith warned,  "If you cross to the devils side of that line ONE INCH you are in the tempters power and if he is successful, you will not be able to think or even reason properly because you will have lost the spirit of the Lord." 

Boyd K Packard said, "As soon as we learn that the tempter, the adversary, uses those same channels of the mind & heart to inspire us to evil, to laziness, to contention, even to acts of darkness, he can take over our thoughts and lead us to mischief."

The power of positive thinking effects our spirit and body in a good way, just as negative thinking can hurt our health and our spirits. We need to be aware of our thoughts.  Our thoughts affect our attitude and attitude affects not only our actions but can have a negative influence on those that are around us. Positive thoughts are energizing. When you develop the habit of thinking good thoughts, you will often find yourself empowered to do more with your day. 

Thinking is a gift from God. When you consciously control your thoughts, replacing negative mental commentary with positive thoughts, you might find that your day goes better.  Our thoughts should be full of gratitude for our blessings and then make those blessings work in our lives.  

Whatsoever things are true, honest, pure, or lovely, think on these things: Philip. 4:8;