ugly breakdown, gee another one

I’m frustrated for sooooo many reasons. But I just paid for two more years with Go Daddy, so I thought I’d try to write more as a type of therapy. I’ve given up on a decent, meaningful, inspiring legacy. I’ve given up on a nice little family history for the generations to come . . . because my life is a total mess and I cringe to think that anyone would ever read it. But, it’s good for me to process through writing.

Last week I had a little ugly breakdown and yelled at my two wonderful, amazing, super-supporting and understanding daughters. Why? I don’t know why I would ever take out on them my dark-hole of emotions and actually not do anything to the one person who deserves all kinds of retaliation and broken bones, and bloody extremities. Oh, the time I have spent praying and pleading for a bloody and final outcome. Doesn’t happen that way, though. It seems like the only person that actually suffers and has a king size duodenal ulcer to deal with ever single day is moi. Justice is not going to happen in this life.



trust & faith

I barely remember how to do this. It’s been so long. Everyday when I sit at my computer I remember Andie’s words, “Grammar, you don’t have to just write about your health and weight.” And now I’m worried people will say, “Dorothy, you don’t have to just write about your totally craptastic marriage to a lying cheating moronic man.” [edited . . believe me, I took a lot out of that last sentence!]

But to put it bluntly, life has been hell for over three years.

I put this in my ward bulletin for tomorrow.

I have learned that Faith means trusting in advance what will only make sense in reverse.

I am hanging on to my faith with all I’ve got. And then a tsunami of doubt comes and I wonder if I have any faith at all. I’m so totally filled with hate and anger and resentment and ill will and doubt. I pendulum back to this quote:


There’s one more temple day in 2017 and that’s today. So I’m trusting my trust, having faith in my faith and heading there this morning.


ironic and amazing

I spoke in our Ward Conference visits last Sunday. We had the Lyman 4th Ward [9 a.m.] and the Urie Ward [1:00 p.m.] Our topic this year is Mothers Teaching Children in the Home.

Lynn and I presented the “grandmother” side of the equation, while Amy and Liberty did the “mom” side.

I love preparing talks and lessons. I especially love studying, researching, learning, and editing it about 27 times. Make that 37 times! That’s my favorite part. After getting together a rough draft, I love reading it, timing myself, marking up the whole thing with a red fine liner, retyping the changes, printing and starting over again. This process takes me the longest amount of time — I’d guess in the 2-3 hour range. I want it to flow. I want it to sound as if I’m actually talking to the audience instead of reading. And I usually come close to memorizing it. I still do mostly read it, because, let’s face it . . I can’t put two words together vocally in a coherent way unless I have a script in front of me.

Prez Kunzler came into the Relief Society room right as we were getting started and I panicked a bit. I really wasn’t prepared for him to be there. But it turned out wonderfully. He added a few comments and after the meeting came and found me and we discussed my life in a personal one-on-one sharing moment. It was such a good experience to talk freely about what’s going on. It was good to hear myself say the words out loud. It was good to not explain or make excuses or be embarrassed. I’m more willing to talk now and let the chips fall. I am not protecting him anymore.

I have contemplated the timing of the Lord so many times lately. When I was going through a very difficult time with work [I initiated several grievances with the local teacher’s union because my immediate supervisor bullied/harassed me and also passed me over for promotion.] Dad had also died that year and some other things were falling apart. I was called as the Stake Primary president. It was hard and awkward and uncomfortable. There were people at school who would hardly speak to me because of the conflict and ugliness of the grievances. I had to work with many of those same people in my stake calling. But there I was, in that capacity, going around to wards and speaking and visiting with bishops and going to the stake council meetings. My [very public] calling helped me get through that. And now. . . I’m going through all of this with L. All sorts of ugly: porn, internet dating, prostitutes, meth, drinking, lying, cheating . . so much more. And here I am, in another stake calling teaching other women how to navigate their lives.

It’s ironic. And it’s amazing. Why would God have a broken, pretty messed-up, worn out woman in this calling?

This is the fourth stake calling I’ve had since living here. Each one has brought challenges and blessings. But the timing . . . . it’s always been just what I needed in difficult moments.

I am reminded over and over that the Lord is in the details. Sometimes when I am hungering for his presence, I realize that he is right here. If I feel a distance, it’s always me who has moved away. He has let me know with certainty that He wants to help and bless and anoint our lives with his goodness.