Creation Brings Joy

This morning, as I tried to find some direction for my day, my eyes drifted to the chart on my wall titled Get Your Daily Happiness Chemicals. Dopamine, oxytocin, serotonin, and endorphins were all listed like small invitations.

Dopamine caught my attention because I had been feeling many of the symptoms of low dopamine lately. As I read through the suggestions for increasing it, one stood out:

Create something.

That one felt like it had my name on it. Creating has always stirred something inside me. It might be making something for someone I love, shaping my home into a gentler space, painting a picture, organizing a corner, or gathering the scattered thoughts in my mind and turning them into a message. Creating wakes me up. It gives me energy and brings me joy. When I create, I feel myself rise. My spirit settles into a better place, a happier place, where I can lift and elevate others with more ease and more love.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized that creating is so much bigger than making things. We can create laughter, light, friendship, memories, beauty, peace, connection, and belonging. We can create an atmosphere in our homes where people feel welcome. We can create moments our children and grandchildren remember. We can even take a difficult experience and, through what we learn from it, create something that helps another person. Some of the most meaningful things we create happen in the hearts and lives of other people.

My thoughts then wandered to something deeper. We are taught that God works in patterns, that He establishes rhythms for us to follow. At the very beginning, before anything else, God created. He created light, earth, life, and us. And when He looked at what He had made, He declared it good. If creation is one of the first patterns God established, why would creating not bring us joy.

The desire to create is woven into us because we were shaped by a Creator. Creating is not just something I do. It is part of who I am. When I create something beautiful, useful, meaningful, or kind, I am using a gift God placed within me. I am bringing something into existence that was not there before. It might be an idea, a story, a peaceful room, a message, a memory, or simply a little more beauty in the world. When I create, my spirit feels steadier and brighter. I have more to give, and I am more able to bless the people around me.

On the days when motivation feels far away, the question does not always have to be, What should I accomplish today. A better question might be, What can I create today. And an even more meaningful question is, What can I create today that builds God’s kingdom.

That changes the way I see my day. Creating does not have to mean accomplishing something grand. I can create beauty in my home, encouragement in someone’s heart, a memory for my family, laughter around the table, friendship with someone who needs a friend, or order out of a little chaos. I can take the thoughts swirling around in my head and turn them into something that might lift someone else. I can create an experience that brings joy to someone I love.

And when I look at what I have created, even if it is small or simple, I can remember the words of the One who created me.

It is good.

The Influencers in My Life

 The other morning I woke up with my mind busy thinking about influencers in my life. Today, the word influencer means something quite different than it did when I was growing up. An influencer is often someone with a large following on social media, someone whose opinions, recommendations, lifestyle, or ideas can influence what people think, buy, or do. For some, being an influencer has even become a title. But as I lay there that morning, I wasn't thinking about those kinds of influencers. I was thinking about the people who influenced me when I was growing up.

They didn't have thousands of followers, and they weren't seeking fame or popularity. They probably never thought of themselves as influencers at all. They were simply people who were part of my life and who cared enough about me to help me learn the things that really mattered. Through their words, but especially through their examples, they taught me how to be kind and thoughtful, how to work hard, how to love others, how to take care of my body, how to serve, and so much more. They supported the teachings of my parents, who were teaching me these principles at home, but these people reinforced those teachings by the way they lived. They wanted the best for me, and their examples helped shape the person I was becoming.

As I thought about these people, I felt so grateful. Their influence didn't end when I grew up. Their examples still live inside me today. I am, in part, who I am because of the people who took the time to love me, teach me, encourage me, correct me, and show me by their example what a good life could look like. They may never have known how much I was watching them or how deeply their examples would become a part of me. Yet here I am, many years later, still carrying the lessons they taught me.

The more I thought about them, the more I realized that we all have influencers in our lives, whether we call them that or not. Most of the people who have the greatest influence on us are probably not famous people. They are the people we know personally. They are parents, grandparents, teachers, neighbors, friends, church leaders, coaches, coworkers, and ordinary people who cross our paths. Sometimes we don't realize the influence someone has had on us until many years later, when we find ourselves doing something or believing something that was first taught to us by someone who cared enough to show us a better way.

And that made me think about the other side of influence. We are all influencers too. We may never have thousands of people following us, and our names may never be widely known, but someone is watching us. It may be a child or grandchild, a friend, a neighbor, someone at church, or simply someone whose life crosses ours for a short time. They may not remember everything we say, but they may remember how we treated them. They may remember whether we were kind, whether we helped when someone needed us, whether we worked hard, whether we kept our word, how we handled difficult circumstances, and whether the life we lived matched the principles we said we believed in.

The people who influenced me weren't trying to build a following. They were simply trying to live good lives. They were raising families, helping neighbors, serving others, working hard, and trying to do what was right. They probably never stopped to think about the number of people they were influencing. They were just living their lives, and I happened to be one of the people who was watching.

That makes me wonder about my own life. Who is watching me, and what am I teaching them by the way I live? Perhaps being an influencer isn't really about how many people know your name or how many people follow you. Perhaps some of the greatest influence happens quietly in the everyday moments of our lives. It happens in the way we speak to someone who is struggling, the way we treat our families, the way we respond when life doesn't go the way we hoped, the way we serve without needing recognition, and the way we choose to live the principles that are important to us.

The people who influenced me may never have known the full impact they had on my life, but their influence didn't stop with me. The good principles they helped plant in my heart have had the opportunity to be passed on to my children, my grandchildren, and others whose lives have touched mine. That is something I hadn't really thought about when I was a young girl watching those people live their lives. I simply knew that I loved them and that I admired something about the way they lived. Now I can see that their examples became part of who I am, and through me, some of what they taught me can continue to influence others.

Maybe that is one of the greatest kinds of influence there is. It isn't about being famous or being followed by thousands of people. It is about living in such a way that something good in us continues to live in someone else. Sometimes we may never know that we influenced them, just as the people who influenced me may never have known what they gave me. But perhaps that is what makes this kind of influence so beautiful. We don't have to seek it. We simply need to live our lives in a way that gives others something good to follow.

Reconnect-Restore-Begin Again

This week has been a little harder for me. It’s interesting to learn what can have an effect on you, sometimes in ways you don't expect.

There was a big internet outage in the Texas area with AT&T. They were working to get everything back online, but I ended up being without internet for three days. Becca, who lives around the corner, and my neighbors had their internet restored pretty quickly, but not me.

I did everything I knew to do. I restarted things. I checked the app. I called AT&T. Each time, I was told they were stil working on the outage. I talked to people and tried everything I was told to try, but nothing worked.

I felt so out of sorts without that connection. I'm not sure what that says about me, but it was paralyzing in ways I didn't expect.

I use my computer for so many things. Researching, learning, working on projects, connecting with people, and doing things that I feel are good and worthwhile. Suddenly, so much of that was unavailable to me.

I finally found a virtual chat connection with AT&T. We went through all the fixes I had already been doing. The chat box would say, “That didn't work. Let's try something else.” Then we would move on to something else, with the same outcome.

After several attempts, the chat box said they were going to do a reset. I had already done resets from my side, but this was different. I didn't have control over this reset. It had to happen on their end. And finally, it worked.

What struck me afterward was that I had been told for three days that the problem was the “outage.” I had accepted that explanation because I assumed they knew what was happening. Everyone around me had their internet working. The problem wasn't what I had been told it was.

What I needed was a reset that I couldn't do myself.

As I thought about that, I began to see a spiritual lesson.

How often do I feel disconnected from God and assume something must be wrong with the connection? I may pray. I may read my scriptures. I may listen to something uplifting. I may try harder to do the things I know I should be doing.

And yet sometimes I still don't feel the connection I want. I start wondering, What am I doing wrong? Why can't I seem to get this working? But what if the answer isn't always something I can fix on my end? There are things I can do. I can pray. I can study. I can repent. I can try to listen. I can make changes.

But there may also be times when I simply need to turn to God and say, “I have tried everything I know to try. I don't know what is wrong. I need You.”

That is a humbling thought for someone who likes to figure things out and fix things.

The internet company had the ability to do something I couldn't do from my side. When they finally did it, the connection was restored.

Maybe God sometimes does something similar for us.

Maybe there are things within us that we cannot see clearly. Maybe there are things we cannot fix through our own efforts. Maybe sometimes we need to stop trying to solve everything ourselves and allow God to work in us in ways we cannot accomplish on our own.

I also learned that Just because I couldn't feel the connection didn't mean the connection wasn't there. That may be the part I need to remember most.

God had not disappeared because I couldn't connect. He wasn't suddenly unavailable because I couldn't figure out what was wrong. The problem was preventing me from experiencing something that was still there.

When my internet finally came back, I felt like a weight had been lifted. Suddenly I had access again to information, my files, people, resources, and so many things I use to learn and do good. It made me think about our connection with God.

When that connection feels strong, we have access to something far more important. We can receive direction. We can learn. We can be strengthened. We can find peace. We can feel prompted to help someone else. We can accomplish things that we might not have been able to do on our own.

So maybe my three days without internet were more than an inconvenience. Maybe they were a little reminder. Sometimes I may spend so much time trying to figure out what is wrong with my connection to God that I forget the most important thing.

He is still there.

And when I can't fix the connection from my end, I can turn to the One who can. Maybe sometimes the prayer isn't, “Heavenly Father, help me fix this.”

Maybe it is simply, “Heavenly Father, I don't know what is wrong. I have tried everything I know to try. Please help me. I need You to do what I cannot do for myself.”

I keep this scripture before me at all times.  Proverbs 3:5–6:“Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.”

I had been leaning on what I was being told and on my own understanding of what was happening. I kept trying to fix the problem from my side because that was all I knew to do. But I didn't have the whole picture. BAM...there it was....

That is true in my life with God more often than I realize. I don't always understand what is happening. I don't always know what needs to be fixed. And I certainly don't have the ability to see everything God can see.

But I can trust Him. I can acknowledge Him. I can stop leaning so heavily on my own understanding and allow Him to direct my path.  I don't need to understand the whole problem before I turn to Him. I simply need to trust the One who does.

When I can't restore the connection myself, I can trust God with the reset.

Sometimes We Need a Better Fit

 

When my grandson Zach was a teenager, he went to the lake with a group of youth. While riding on an inner tube being pulled behind a boat, he was suddenly thrown into the water. As they went to pick him up, they realized that he had broken both of his arms.

The exact cause was never certain, but later it was thought that his life jacket may have been too big for him. It was meant to protect him, but when he landed in the water, it may have restricted his arms and contributed to both of them breaking. Something that was designed to keep him safe had not fit him the way it should.

The life jacket wasn't bad. It was designed to protect him. It simply didn't fit him.

There is a spiritual lesson hidden in that experience. Sometimes we hold onto things in our lives because we believe they are protecting us. They might be old habits, fears, attitudes, or ways of thinking that once served a purpose. They may not have been bad things. In fact, they may have helped us at one time. But as we grow, some things may no longer fit who we are becoming. Instead of helping us, they could be hurting us.

I think the Lord works with us in much the same way. He knows that we are constantly growing and changing. Something that we thought was right for us at one point in our lives may not be what He needs us to carry forward. Sometimes He asks us to let go of something familiar so He can help us become something more.

That doesn't mean what we are letting go of was necessarily wrong. Sometimes it simply means we have outgrown it.

The Lord invites us to grow and become better. That can require us to recognize what is no longer helping us and trust Him enough to make a change. We may be comfortable with the way things have always been, but the Savior sees who we can become.

Just as Zach needed a life jacket that fit him properly, we need to make sure that what we are relying on spiritually is truly supporting us. The gospel of Jesus Christ isn't meant to restrict us. It is meant to strengthen, protect, and lift us.

“Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding.” (Proverbs 3:5)

Sometimes the things we are holding onto feel like protection simply because they are familiar. We may even be afraid to let them go because we don't know what will take their place. But the Savior knows exactly what we need.

Perhaps part of growing in faith is being willing to ask, “Is there something I am holding onto that once protected me, but doesn't fits the person the Lord is helping me become?”

When we trust Him enough to let go, He can replace what has become restrictive with something that strengthens us, lifts us, and helps us move forward.

Sometimes what we need isn't something completely new. Sometimes we simply need a better fit.

“Is there anything in your life that once seemed to protect you, but might actually be holding you back now?”

Ponder the Path of Thy Feet

 

This morning as I was studying Proverbs 4:26, a memory came to my mind from when I was a young mother with six children, all under the age of eight. There were many days when I felt like I was simply moving from one thing to the next. There were children to get ready, meals to prepare, errands to run, and a hundred things that needed my attention.

One day I needed to go to the store to get some milk. I got in the car and started driving. The next thing I knew, I was sitting at the school. I had to laugh at myself because I had driven to the school so many times that apparently my car knew the way better than I did. I was on autopilot! I had intended to go to the store, but because I was so accustomed to driving to the school, that was the path I automatically took.

As I thought about that this morning, I realized how easily we can do the same thing in our lives. Sometimes we know where we want to end up. We know what kind of person we want to be, what matters most to us, and perhaps even the destination we are hoping to reach spiritually. But are we paying attention to the path we are taking to get there?

It is possible to become so accustomed to a certain way of living that we simply go through the motions. We can make choices out of habit without stopping to ask ourselves if those choices are actually taking us where we want to go. We can become so familiar with our routine that, just like I did when I ended up at the school, we can travel a path without really thinking about where we are going.

Another experience in my life gave this scripture a much deeper meaning for me. Not long after Kelly had passed away, I was driving through a neighborhood. My mind was somewhere else. I was grieving, thinking about everything that had happened, and simply not paying much attention to what was happening around me.

The next thing I knew, I was being pulled over by a policeman. As he approached my window, I remember saying, “What did I do?” I was completely unaware of anything I could have done wrong.

He told me that I had just driven right past a stop sign. I looked at him and said, “I never saw it.” And I hadn't. I truly had no idea there had even been a stop sign.

He was very kind to me and gave me a warning. I explained that my husband had just passed away and that I had been lost in my thoughts and wasn't paying attention to my surroundings. Afterward, I actually thanked him for pulling me over. He had made me aware of something I had completely missed, and I realized that missing that stop sign could have resulted in something much more serious than a warning.

I think there are times in our lives when we can be so distracted by what is happening inside of us that we fail to notice what is happening around us. Sometimes we are tired. Sometimes we are hurting. Sometimes we are worried or overwhelmed. And sometimes we are simply so familiar with the road we are traveling that we stop paying attention.

I think that is part of what the Lord is teaching us when He says, “Ponder the path of thy feet.” He isn't just asking us to think about our destination. He is asking us to pay attention to the path we are taking to get there.

Are the choices I am making leading me closer to the Savior? Are the things I am giving my time and attention to leading me toward the life I truly want? Am I so busy traveling my familiar path that I have stopped noticing the signs along the way?

Perhaps that is why we sometimes need to slow down and take an honest look at our lives. We may discover that we are headed in the right direction, but we may also discover that we have made a wrong turn somewhere along the way. The beautiful thing is that recognizing it gives us the opportunity to change our course.

I am grateful for the policeman who pulled me over that day. At the time, I probably just felt embarrassed that I had missed a stop sign. But looking back, I can see another lesson in that experience. Someone helped me recognize something I could not see for myself.

I believe the Lord does that for us in our lives as well. Sometimes He uses a prompting, a scripture, a conversation, an experience, or even another person to help us notice something we have been missing. It may be a gentle reminder to slow down, pay attention, or make a different choice.

The destination matters, but so does the path we take to get there. We don't want to simply arrive somewhere and realize that we traveled on autopilot the whole way. We want to be awake and aware, noticing the signs, making adjustments when necessary, and choosing a path that will bring us closer to the Savior.

Today, I am grateful for the reminder in Proverbs to “ponder the path of thy feet.” I want to slow down enough to notice where my feet are taking me and make sure the choices I am making today are leading me toward the destination I hope to reach tomorrow. 

When Healing Needs More Than a Bandage,

 There are mornings when the weight of life rises before I do, and today was one of them. Driving to gain strength I decided to go out for groceries.  While driving, I found myself wondering why I am still struggling, why the ache inside me has not eased the way I keep hoping it will. While driving and praying, I realized that I have been expecting myself to heal from deep wounds with quick fixes, as if a simple Band‑Aid application was causing to make all things better. 

A Band‑Aid can cover a scrape, but it cannot mend a broken arm. A broken arm needs to be examined, set, protected, and given time to knit itself back together. If it is not tended with care, it could heal crooked and aches for years. Internal injuries are the same, the hidden hurts beneath the skin require deeper attention because the damage is inside, where no one can see it.

At this point, I understood something about my own heart.

Losing my husband, carrying the affairs we both us to carry, watching my mother decline and the weight of her health, her affairs was like an emotional injury.  These are not surface wounds. These are broken‑bone wounds. These are internal‑organ wounds. They reach into the deepest parts of me, and they cannot be healed with anything quick or simple application.

Yet I have been trying to use emotional Band‑Aids. My Band‑Aids come in the form of distractions and food as small comforts that soften the edges for a moment but cannot reach the deeper injury. They help me get through the day, but they cannot realign what has been fractured inside me.

But here is the light that breaks through: healing is not slow because I am failing. Healing is slow because the wound is deep. Because the love was real. Because the responsibilities have been heavy. Because my heart has been carrying more than any Band‑Aid could ever hold.

Real healing takes time. It takes gentleness. It takes the kind of care we would give to a broken bone or a fragile organ. I need to be steady and patient. And even when I cannot see it, healing is happening. Quietly. Slowly. Faithfully.

There is hope in that. There is truth in that. There is light in knowing that the same God who tends to the sparrow tends to the hidden places in us too. Nothing is overlooked. Nothing is wasted. Nothing is beyond repair.

And maybe the most important truth is this: I am healing the way real injuries heal;  slowly, carefully, and with the kind of attention that honors the depth of what I have lived through. And light is finding its way in, one tender moment at a time

God heals what is broken. Not all at once, but faithfully, layer by layer, moment by moment. He has met me in the quiet places where no one else could reach. He has turned my pain into compassion, my exhaustion into endurance, and my grief into grace. I am healing the way real injuries heal which is slowly, carefully, and with the kind of attention that honors the depth of what I have lived through. And light is finding its way in, one tender moment at a time