The Reset I Didn't Know I Needed

 

After our family reunion at Bear Lake, I came home tired but deeply happy. Our children and grandchildren gathered together, with only two missing because they are faithfully serving missions, and Grandpa watching from heaven. Being together felt like a gift.

When I returned home and stepped back into the responsibilities of everyday life, I noticed something unexpected. It felt as though someone had quietly pressed a reset button inside me.

It reminded me of what happens after a storm. Sometimes the electricity flickers or goes out completely. When the power returns, the clocks need to be reset, the Wi Fi reconnects, and the computers have to restart before everything works as they should.

Life can be much the same. We all experience seasons of loss, disappointment, uncertainty, or grief that feel like walking through a storm beneath a dark cloud. We pray for the skies to clear, yet often they linger longer than we expected. During those seasons, God rarely restores us all at once. Instead, He gives us small moments of light that gently guide us forward. A caring friend. A reassuring scripture. A peaceful morning. A quiet answer to prayer. We may not recognize it then, but He is leading us toward healing one step at a time.

Looking back, I realize that is exactly what He had been doing for me. Since losing my husband, I often felt like I was walking through that storm. Although the Lord faithfully placed small moments of light along my path, I did not realize He was already restoring my heart. I kept waiting for one defining moment when everything would feel different. Instead, He was healing me through a thousand tender mercies, preparing me for a reset I did not even know I needed.

Then God used a few simple days with family to do what I could not do on my own. Laughing over games, boating on the lake, sharing meals, telling stories, and simply enjoying one another became His way of restoring my heart. It was as if He cleared away the clutter, the storm clouds parted, and He quietly turned the lights back on inside me.

I am learning that sometimes the reset we need does not come from pushing harder or trying to fix everything ourselves. It comes through connection, joy, gratitude, and the people God lovingly places in our lives. Sometimes His greatest blessings are found in slowing down long enough to receive them.

If you have been walking through a storm, do not lose heart. The reset you are longing for may already be unfolding, one tender mercy at a time. God often works through ordinary experiences to accomplish extraordinary things. The conversation you almost skipped, the family gathering you almost missed, the quiet morning you almost rushed through may become the very moments He uses to strengthen your heart.

As I thanked Heavenly Father for this unexpected gift, I realized once again that He is always working behind the scenes. His timing is perfect, His love is constant, and His ways are often quieter than we expect.

My invitation to you is simple. Watch for the tender mercies. Notice the ordinary moments that fill your heart with peace, joy, or renewed hope. Thank God for them. One day you may look back and discover, as I did, that those ordinary moments were His extraordinary way of leading you out of the storm and quietly renewing your heart.

To my precious family, thank you for the laughter, the memories, the hugs, and the love you so freely shared. You may never fully know how God used each of you to bless me. You were part of His answer to a prayer I did not even know I was praying. I love each one of you more than words can express, and I will always treasure the gift of being together.

With a grateful heart, I thank my Heavenly Father for the blessing of family, for His tender mercies, and for the gentle reminder that He is always renewing our hearts, one ordinary moment at a time.

When God Arranges the Meeting

 I thought I was simply stopping by a dental office for a brief business visit. The dentist had come across my information while sorting through old items in a blue tote and decided to reach out. Nothing about it seemed extraordinary but it happened to be a day with no patients for them and no other appointments for me, so the timing was effortless. I expected to be there no more than thirty minutes.

But God has a beautiful way of stepping into ordinary moments and quietly transforming them into something extraordinary.

From the moment I met the husband and wife team who own the practice, there was an immediate sense of familiarity that cannot be explained. We stood talking as though we had known each other for years. What should have been a short visit became three hours of sharing stories, laughter, and genuine connection. When it was finally time to leave, we embraced, and we all agreed that it felt more like family than friendship.

As I drove home, I thought about something my mother taught me many years ago. She often said, "Leave places better than you found them." Over time, that simple principle grew into something even deeper for me. Leave people feeling better than when you found them.

Every day we have the opportunity to bring peace where there is tension, kindness where there is hurt, encouragement where there is discouragement, and warmth where there is distance. We never know how much someone may need a listening ear, a sincere smile, or a few moments of genuine connection.

That afternoon reminded me that God sometimes brings people into our lives for reasons that have nothing to do with business. He orchestrates encounters because He knows exactly when hearts need encouragement. He arranges the timing, opens the conversation, and creates connections that only He could have planned.

I went there hoping to be a blessing, but I left realizing they had blessed me just as much. I drove away feeling lighter, encouraged, and grateful. It was a beautiful reminder that God's blessings often flow both ways. When we allow Him to work through us, everyone leaves richer than they arrived.

Some meetings are far more than appointments. They are divine intersections. They remind us that we are seen, known, and deeply loved by a Father who is always working behind the scenes. Sometimes His quiet whisper comes through the kindness of people we have only just met, reminding us that we are never walking this journey alone.

As I reflected on that unexpected afternoon, my heart was filled with gratitude. I thanked God for once again showing me that His hand is in the details of our lives. What appeared to be an ordinary business visit became one of those quiet moments I will always treasure.

Perhaps today God has arranged someone to cross your path. It may be a friend, a neighbor, a coworker, or even a stranger. Be willing to share a kind word, offer a listening ear, or simply be present. You may discover, as I did, that while you hoped to bless someone else, God had already planned for them to bless you too.

May we all become willing instruments in His hands, leaving every heart, including our own, a little better than we found it.

God Knows the Weather of My Heart

I've been thinking lately about storms and how they mirror the seasons of my life.

Some days I feel steady and strong, moving through the hours with confidence. Other days arrive, and it feels like all my motivation disappears, and I'm simply trying to make it through. It's been two years since my husband passed, and part of me thought I should be further along in my grief.

But something shifted for me the other day.

When the weather changes, I adjust what I do. I wouldn't mow the yard in the rain or plan outdoor work during a downpour. I accept the weather for what it is and move with it.

I realized my emotions work the same way. 

Some days feel like a light rain, and some days feel like a full storm in my heart. I've spent a lot of time thinking I should be doing more, but I'm learning that inner storms require the same kind of adjustment as outer ones. When grief rises like heavy clouds, I'm not failing. I'm responding to the conditions of my heart.

There are days when the storm inside is so strong that I feel almost paralyzed. I'm learning that this isn't weakness—it's part of healing. God guides me through the changing seasons outside, and He's guiding me through the changing seasons within. I don't have to pretend it's sunny when it's storming. I just have to walk with Him through whatever the day holds.

If you're struggling now, or have struggled, or will struggle someday, be kind to yourself. Adjust to the mental, emotional, physical, or spiritual weather you're experiencing, and give yourself grace.

After all, that's exactly what God does.

Seeing Past the Scratches

 

I was trying to clean my eyeglasses the other day when I realized something discouraging.  As I held them up to the light, I noticed how scratched they had become. The lenses looked worn and marked up in a way I had not really paid attention to before. It made me wonder how I had been seeing clearly through something that looked so imperfect.

But there  is something quietly fascinating about my scratched eyeglasses. If I hold them in my hand and look directly at the lenses, every flaw stands out. The scratches seem obvious, distracting, even overwhelming. But the moment I put them on and look out into the world, they almost disappear. You can see clearly again, as if the damage is no longer there.

The scratches did not go away rather my focus simply changed.

When I was looking through the lenses, my attention shifted to what is beyond them. My eyes and my mind work together to prioritize what matters most in that moment. The small imperfections on the surface become background noise. They are still present, but they are no longer the center of my awareness.

Life has a way of doing the same thing to us.

We all carry scratches. They come from loss, disappointment, change, and the quiet accumulation of hard moments. They are real, and they shape us. When we stop and look directly at them, they can feel sharp and all consuming. It is easy to get caught in that place, examining every mark and wondering how things could have been different.

But when we begin to look through the lens instead of at it, something shifts. Our attention moves outward. Toward the people in front of us, the responsibilities we hold, the small moments that still ask for our presence. The scratches do not disappear, but they lose their power to define everything we see.

This is not about ignoring what has happened or pretending it does not matter. Reflection has its place. There are times when we need to sit with our experiences and acknowledge them honestly. But living there can make the world feel distorted and heavy.

Clarity comes when we gently redirect our focus. Not to some distant, perfect future, but to what is right in front of us. A task to complete, a conversation to have, a quiet moment to get through. Looking through the lens allows life to come back into view.

The truth is, you can still see clearly even with scratches.   I still need to get a new pair of glasses, but for now, I am grateful that I can see past the damaged lenses. 

He Wants Us To Succeed!

 

Writing has long been a kind of quiet therapy for me. Over the years, journaling has helped me notice lessons that often arrive disguised as ordinary moments. Recently, I’ve been converting my old handwritten journals into digital form, and in the process I rediscovered an entry that made me stop, smile, and remember something important.

The entry was about my grandson Zach when he was six years old. We were playing a video game together, and he knew immediately that Grandma had absolutely no idea what she was doing. Still, he stayed close. He would say things like, “Stay by my guy so I can help you,” or gently warn, “You might want to watch out here,” when a tricky part was coming.

When I struggled, he didn’t tease me or rush me. He simply helped. Sometimes he would pick up my character and carry me past the hard part. Other times, when I felt completely stuck, I would hand him the controller and trust him to get me through safely.

What stayed with me most wasn’t just his skill, but his kindness. When I made mistakes, he would smile and say, “That’s okay, you didn’t know,” or “You’re getting better,” or softly, “Next time, I’ll help you.”

As I reread that entry years later, it struck me how much that moment mirrors my relationship with Heavenly Father.

When I stay close, it feels like He is quietly saying, “Stay near Me and I’ll help you through this.” When I’m about to step into something that feels too much, I sense Him whisper, “You might want to watch out here.” And when I falter or make mistakes, I don’t feel scolded. I feel patience. I feel reassurance. As if He is saying, “That’s okay. You are learning. You’re getting better.”

Sometimes He lets me try on my own. Sometimes He carries me through the part I cannot survive by myself. And sometimes, when my strength is gone and my heart is tired, I simply hand Him the controller and trust that He knows the way through.

That small moment with my grandson became a quiet reminder that growth is not about getting everything right. It is about staying close. It is about trusting help. It is about believing that we are being watched over by Someone who wants us to succeed, not fail.

“For I the Lord thy God will hold thy right hand, saying unto thee, Fear not; I will help thee.”            Isaiah 41:13

One Pull, Many Blessings

I look for God’s tender mercies in my life every day, and this week my heart is full of gratitude for the blessings I was given to serve.

Earlier in the week I went to Mom’s home to check on things and pick up the mail. When I arrived, I realized the yard was in urgent need of care. I had paid the neighbors fifty dollars to help, as they have many times before. They usually ride over on their lawn mower and take care of her yard quickly. This time however, it was obvious that they had not used the lock code to access the backyard, and none of it had been touched. I left her home knowing the yard needed my attention.

After some time passed, I realized the responsibility was mine to take care of. So yesterday morning, after a heartfelt prayer, I headed back to Mom’s home. I prayed that the equipment would work, that I would have the energy to finish, and that I would be spared from bug bites. In the past, every time I worked in her backyard, I came away covered in painful chigger bites.

I knew I needed to start in the backyard, so I began weed eating. Very quickly, I realized there was no way I could finish the whole area that way. I would have to get the lawn mower running. By that time, my back was already aching badly, so I stopped, rested for a moment, and said another quiet prayer. I found the key, unlocked the barn where the mower was stored, pulled it out, and prepared the carburetor.

Then it happened. With one pull, it started. It had been sitting for over a year, not touched, yet it started first try!

I stood there amazed. I began mowing her yard, stopping often to pick up debris and move obstacles. Each stop meant turning the mower off, and every time, with a single pull, it started right back up. To me, it felt nothing short of a miracle. I finished the backyard and moved to the front yard.

When I got there, I realized I could not unlock the gate to mow along the alley. I knew Mom would receive a code violation if that area was left untouched. I tried every key I could find, but none worked. So I drove down the alley, parked the car and then cleared the entire area with the weed eater. Normally, my back would have given out long before I finished, but I worked without an ounce of pain. I knew I was being carried through it.

I had planned to stay and do more, but by then I was filthy, covered in grass and sweat, so I decided to return another day. Today is Sunday morning, and I woke up with not a single bug bite on me.

Once again, I am reminded that God’s care shows up in quiet, ordinary moments. I am deeply thankful for the strength, the protection, and the opportunity to serve, and for the tender mercies that meet me exactly where I am, spiritually and physically!