I don’t know how I ended up here. How did I? Sheesh, I look at other ‘normal’ people and I compare them with me and I just can’t figure it out sometimes. I mean, I grew up in a pretty great family. My mother, well, she was amazing. She could cook anything. She could sew anything. She was loving and giving and talented and sweet and wonderful! Dad was very hard-working and a student of everything. He loved learning and teaching. He liked things in order. He didn’t waste anything. He could build whatever was needed for his growing family. He loved to camp, hunt, fish. We grew a garden every single year, canned everything under the sun, worked hard together and played hard together. Always a project in motion. He took care of our home and grandma Smith’s and her sisters across the street. Mom taught 4-H and Gospel Doctrine, was the president of every organization, went visiting teaching for 70 years! They both worked in the genealogy library. Dad was a bishop and on the high council. They went on a mission.

Normal family, right?

But I have so, so much baggage from back then. Of being molested by a brother, attacked and assaulted at the high school by a total stranger — a man just driving through town. Then I got pregnant in high school, was married three times, have had the hardest time connecting with people, mostly men. I was exploited and taken advantage of by a counselor at a really vulnerable time of my life. I really, pretty much don’t like or trust most men. Only my own sons and my sons-in-law. I was raped at age 35. I lost a baby. I’ve dealt for years with bulimia and anorexia. I am now going through another situation with Leonard that I don’t want to deal with.

And I’m just sick of it all. I’m sick of people and situations and drama and crap.

Then I usually spend a couple of days feeing sorry for myself and eventually remember that I took all the roads, and made all the turns to get right where I am today. I didn’t choose well, I didn’t heed. I didn’t remember. I didn’t believe. I didn’t pray for direction. And, consequently, here I am.

And now I have osteoporosis. Yep. Heading to the doctor later today to get a prescription. Last year, well 18 months ago, I broke my leg, and then my ribs going out, and my back hurting, and the other day I cracked the bone in my left foot when I fell off the last step going downstairs. I kind of already suspected it . . with mom, Louise and Diane having the big bad O. Last week I had a dexa scan at the Evanston hospital and the doctor called yesterday with results.

It is all adding up to e.n.o.u.g.h.

This morning I listened to Hank Smith. Ya, he’s pretty amazing. I could listen all day long.


He’s all about Be of Good Cheer, When Life is Tough, Dos and Don’ts, Scripture Power, Real Life. All sorts of getting-out-of-your-dark-hole-and-making-the-most-of-life. Every time I listen to him I am convinced I can do this. I can get through another disappointment, another royal-pain-in-the-butt episode. He helps a *whole lot* with perspective and choice, and happiness and the big picture.

I’ve added Hank to my listening arsenal. I always feel better about everything, seriously everything, after listening for an hour or so with him. This morning he quoted President Hinckley so many times. I loved it. He talked about his sweet little smile and his optimistic and effervescent outlook on life.



I know I need to think positively every day, wake up with gratitude, practice patience and love, look on the bright side, count blessings and press forward. I have a little sign on my desk that I love. Seriously I love it OUTLOUD! It says:

Press Forward with Unwearyingness

Do you love that or what! I love it! I want to make a darling craft out of it! I want to make a song out of it, a poem. Or write a book. I want to have an airplane write it across a blue, cloudless sky. I want everyone to know that I can do that. I can press forward. I can have unwearyingness. No, silly, it’s not a word, but I still love it!

So, even though I ended up here, I can still go forward with faith and optimism and sunshine and hope. I really do believe that God knows me and recognizes my struggles and blesses me abundantly in spite of my poor choices in life. I believe he blesses me daily. And I will survive with a smile and a prayer in my heart. This, too, will pass.

One thought on “unwearyingness

  1. Tracy

    Not only CAN you, YOU ARE. Seriously, you keep picking yourself up and dusting yourself off and trying again. I am so proud of you and so grateful you are my mama. I love you.

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