NO PARKING. WRONG WAY.

I think being able to write is one of the greatest blessings in my life. Writing helps me sort through my thoughts and feelings, especially on the days when my mind feels full and I need a place to unload. This morning was one of those days. I tried to rest for a while, hoping to quiet everything inside me, but my thoughts kept moving. So I got up and began to write, because writing is how I find clarity.

As I stepped onto my front porch, I see two signs. One says NO PARKING ANY TIME. Right underneath it is another that says WRONG WAY. I live in a neighborhood with a strip of grass between the homes across the street, so you can only drive one direction on each side. At least that is the intention. The NO PARKING sign is there for a reason I am not completely sure of, but I am sure their is a purpose.

Just as the sign instructs cars not to park on that side of the road, I have noticed that sometimes I “park” in places in my life where there really should be a no‑parking sign. I have parked in disappointment, in regret and in grief. Sometimes I park in familiar places simply because they feel comfortable, even when they are not good for me. But writing helps me move along.

There are moments when stopping is necessary. We all need time to sit, feel, grieve, and heal. But stopping is not the same as parking. Parking means staying. Parking means settling in. And sometimes there is a quiet message in the heart that says, “Do not park here.” It is okay to pause, but it is not always wise to stay.

Then there is the second sign: WRONG WAY. I have taken a wrong way a time or two. Sometimes I knew it immediately. Other times I traveled quite a distance before realizing I was headed somewhere I never intended to go. Life can feel just like that. We make choices that take us off course. We may miss the signs or simply get distracted.

But there is something I love about a WRONG WAY sign. It does not say you are a failure. It does not say you have ruined everything. It does not say you should have known better. It simply says, “This is not the right direction to travel.”

I was standing outside talking with a neighbor when a car came down the street going the wrong direction. My neighbor will point to the sign. Some drivers ignored it or don't know what to do, but others stop, roll down their window, say thank you, and turn around.

And that is the beauty of it. Once you know you are going the wrong way, you can turn around. Turning around is not a failure. It is wisdom.

Now put the two signs together: NO PARKING and WRONG WAY. I love the message they create. Do not stay here. Do not keep going this way.

These are just traffic signs, but sometimes God uses ordinary things to get our attention. A traffic sign. A song. A conversation. A scripture. A thought that arrives at just the right moment. Little reminders that help us pause long enough to see where we are and where we are headed.

And in the end, writing really does help me find my way. It gives me purpose and direction. It helps me understand what I am feeling and reminds me where I should not park. When I write things out, I can see more clearly the places that ask me to move on and the roads that invite me to turn around. Writing becomes its own kind of guidance, a quiet way of helping me step forward with a little more clarity and a little more hope.

What Does “Okay” Really Mean?

 After my dad passed away, Kelly and I began spending more time trying to care for Mom and help with her needs. We would visit her, call her on the phone, or send her a text. Almost every time, she would tell us the same thing: “I’m okay.”

At the time, I think I understood what she meant. She was okay. She was getting through the day. She didn't need us to worry about her. But it wasn't until four years later, when Kelly passed away, that those words began to have a completely different meaning for me.

After Kelly died, people would ask me how I was doing, and I would say, “I'm okay.” But what did I really mean? What does okay mean? I suppose the answer is different for everyone.

Now it has been more than two years since Kelly's passing, and the truth is, I am okay. But I am still sad. I am still struggling. I am still hurting. I still have moments when I feel the emptiness of losing someone who was such an important part of my life.

So how can I say that I am okay? Maybe being okay doesn't mean that everything is okay. Maybe it means I am learning how to live with what isn't.

There is a song by Matthew West called Truth Be Told that has made me think about this. The song talks about the way we often tell people that we are fine, even when underneath the surface we are hurting. We say everything is under control when sometimes it isn't.

And I understand that. Why do we do that? Why do we say we are fine or okay when, in the quiet moments of our homes, we know that our hearts are still hurting?

Maybe sometimes it is because we don't know how to explain what we are feeling. Maybe we don't want people to worry about us. Maybe we don't want to bring sadness into someone else's day. Or maybe “I'm okay” is simply the easiest way to say, “I'm getting through it.”

I have come to realize that okay doesn't necessarily mean whole. It can mean that I am functioning even though I am hurting. It can mean that I am moving forward even though part of me wishes I could go back. It can mean that I still have sad moments, but those moments don't define every moment of my life.

It can mean that I miss someone terribly and still find reasons to smile. It can mean that I don't understand everything God is doing, but I still trust Him.

And perhaps most importantly, being okay doesn't mean that God expects me to pretend that I am. He already knows. He knows the thoughts I don't say out loud. He knows the tears that come when no one is around. He knows the places in my heart that still hurt. He knows what I miss, what I wonder about, and what I am still trying to understand.

I don't have to hide those things from Him.

Maybe there is a difference between pretending we are okay and being okay while still hurting. I think I am learning that difference.

I am not the same person I was before Kelly died. There is a part of my heart that will always carry that loss. I don't think that part needs to be fixed or erased. It is there because I loved deeply, and love doesn't disappear simply because someone is gone.

So when someone asks me how I am doing and I say, “I'm okay,” perhaps I am telling the truth. I am okay. I am also still sad. I am okay, and I still miss Kelly. I am okay, and I am still learning what this new life looks like. I am okay, and sometimes I cry. I am okay, and sometimes I don't have the answers.

I am okay because I am still here, still growing, still striving, still hoping, and still reaching toward God. Maybe okay isn't a destination where all the pain has disappeared. Maybe okay is a place we can stand while we are still healing, still learning, and still finding our way.

And maybe the most important thing is that when I say, “I'm okay,” God knows the whole truth behind those two little words. He knows I am still hurting. He knows I am still trying. He knows I am still hoping. And He knows that, even with a piece of my heart missing, I am going to be okay.

Trusting the Process

I have been busy digitizing my past journal entries. I had scanned them all and was in the process of converting them into Word documents on my desktop computer so I could begin cleaning them up. Then my desktop died. I wasn't too worried at first because I thought everything was synced with my laptop, but apparently the computer died before everything had been uploaded to OneDrive. The folders were there, but when I tried to open the files, the information wasn't.

Rather than scan everything again, I decided to begin reading my journal entries into Word. Surprisingly, the process has lifted me up. In some cases, I couldn't believe I had actually written some of the things I found. There was so much in those pages. There was love, help, hurt, struggle, and growth.

My journals don't necessarily reflect my life as completely as I would like. When I write, I tend to focus on what I am feeling and what is happening around me at that particular time. But as I have gone back through them, I have realized that I was having life experiences that were teaching me so much. Because of that, I began keeping a separate collection of experiences that have taught me lessons, along with things I have learned through my journal writing.

So now I have two sources of history, and really three, because I also have my scrapbook. The pictures tell stories too, although I haven't always written the stories behind them. Perhaps someday I will find an easy way to bring all of these things together. For now, I think it is okay for them to remain separate.

I am still struggling. I am still trying to learn and adapt to my life and to this season I am in. My life has left me living alone, while also taking care of Mom, managing her finances and homes, and carrying my own responsibilities. I know I have written about this before, but I think it is important to acknowledge that it is still a trial.

It is interesting because I also know how blessed I am. Heavenly Father has given me so many tender mercies. I have seen miracles and blessings in abundance. Yet being blessed does not take the heartache out of life. Having a partnership with someone you love like no other is so valuable. It gives you something that is difficult to replace when you are alone.

Still, I believe that through the grace of God, He can help fill in those missing places. I may not know exactly how, and perhaps I don't need to know yet. Maybe part of this season is learning to trust Him while I am still figuring out what my life is supposed to look like.

Even the world around me seems to reflect how unpredictable life can be. It has been incredibly hot here in Texas, and our grass is brown because we haven't had rain in a long time. Yet other cities are receiving so much rain that they are flooding. Some places are so dry they are dealing with fires. There are earthquakes, wars, tornadoes, tsunamis, and before long, I am sure, snowstorms somewhere.

There is so much uncertainty in the world, and I think it is important to hold on to what we know to be true. God is still God. He is still aware of us, and He will guide us.

I saw a rainbow the other day, and I couldn't help but think about the scriptures and God's promises. It reminded me that I don't need to spend my time worrying about when the end of the world will come. Some people are wishing for it, some are hoping for it, and some believe the time is already here. But only the Lord knows when He will come. My responsibility is simply to be prepared and to live faithfully today.

As for my own life, I don't really know what I want right now. I am still trying to figure that out. I don't sleep well, and that has been a struggle for most of my life. Next week I am going to the doctor to talk about what I can do to sleep better. I have a feeling that improving my sleep could change my world in ways I am very excited about.

I have also been studying a lot about the body and how our bodies work. They are truly divine. God created something so complicated and yet so beautifully designed to work together for our good. The more I learn, the more amazed I become.

I also find it interesting that the scriptures teach us there is opposition in all things. The more I study health, what we should eat, how we should care for our bodies, and what we should do to live well, the more I find that there are different opinions about almost everything. Yet I love it when my studies confirm and support the principles God has already given us about caring for our bodies.

I suppose I am still rambling a little because I don't completely know what I am trying to say. Maybe that is okay. Perhaps this is where I am right now. I am still learning. I am still adapting. I am still trying to understand this season of my life.

But there is one thing I do know. I love the Lord, and I know He will take care of me. I also know that there are things I have to make myself do, even when I don't feel like doing them. I don't have to do those things alone. He will help me find the strength to do what I need to do.

Maybe I don't need to have my whole life figured out right now. Maybe I just need to keep moving forward, one step at a time, trusting that as I do my part, the Lord will help me with the rest.

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.

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.