The power of Choosing Happy

What makes you happy? Like really deep down makes you happy? And I don’t want you to give me the Sunday school answers that you think I want to hear. And PS . . . I can’t really hear your answers even if you say them out loud. So this question is more for you to ponder.  What makes you HAPPY?

Because if you just stared at this screen and you really don’t know . . . you might be missing something. Are you a happy person? Do you want to be? Did you used to be, and have some how lost your way? 

Then lets start with a few other basic questions. What is holding you back from feeling happiness and seeing joy in your life? Is it another person—or lack of another person? Is it your job? Is your kids, or kids you wished you had? Is it the car that you drive—or hope to some day? Are you waiting for a new house to take away your messes? Are you waiting for a first date, to tell you of your worth? Are you waiting for your kids to grow up so you can start enjoying them? Are you waiting to lose some weight so you can start looking at yourself in the mirror? Are you stuck wanting something different, so you can smile again? How long have you been waiting . . . and how long are you going to be willing to wait? If your prize doesn’t come at all—will you die wishing you had found your happiness? 

Ok, imagine for a second a life with none of those things standing in the way—as your excuse—of your happiness. What does it look like? Just you and your smile. Content. Calm. Present. Look at that—you showed up . . . for yourself. Not for anyone else—just for you. 

Happiness is a choice. It is a decision we make every single day. And if you aren’t happy now, chances are . . . you aren’t going to find it no matter what. Do you like you? Do you see your worth and value when no one is around to tell you? Are you waiting for yourself to change before you start being your own friend?

Life is going to be full of changes, some for the better . . . and some unimaginably hard. If we can learn to smile right now—in the hard days, and the good—we will smile again. Because if happiness is a choice . . . it can always be part of our life. 

Happiness isn’t living a perfectly bright day. Happiness is choosing to find the perfect little light . . . in an imperfect life.

You deserve to smile today, and tomorrow . . . and every day you take a breath. Because you a miracle. You are rare, and precious, and your smile brings light. Choose happy. Not because it is easy, but because you deserve to shine. The world is waiting for your glow. Beam on. 

(As I sat down and these words came to my screen, I couldn't stop thinking about this moment at Emmett's funeral when someone told the kids to smile for a picture. At first I just felt annoyed. My eyes burned from the day. My heart was broken from the pain. My mind was cloudy from the betrayal and the trauma. But those five babies in my arms, gave me hope that someday I would find joy again . . . and that—in that moment—made me happy. )

Just up the street . . . It's going to be ok

After the greatest trial in your life, what would you say if someone told you that you were going to be ok?

Would you be relieved? Ticked off? Not believe them? Scared? Excited? Would you create in your mind what “ok” you would be ok with? Would you be willing to go wherever you felt prompted . . . or would you be too prideful to accept that “ok” didn’t look ok to you?

I remember a few promises given to me—in the months after the murder—that I will never forget. Silent promises—in my closet—on the darkest night of my life . . . that I was going to make it through all of this. I was going to be ok.

One promise came in the form a blessing—my church leader laid his hands on my head and told me that my Heavenly Father was going to watch over me. I was going to be ok.

Promises from friends and family saying they would always have my back.  I was going to be ok.

Letters written by my babies “to people of Japan” . . . as I read, I felt their truths for my own story. I was going to be ok.

Promises from strangers across the world—messages of hope that they were praying for me. I was going to be ok.

But guess what . . . some days it felt impossible to believe. No matter who the source of the promise, I always doubted that life would ever be the same. And guess what else . . . it never has been.  My definition of a traumatic event is a moment in which time freezes and you think, “My life is never going to be the same”.  Many of those make it hard to believe anyone’s promise that “Everything is going to be OK!”.

One of those promises came on a very dark week. (“Bailed out” . . . I wrote about parts of it in my first book) . . . but what I didn’t share was after a powerful talk about grace helped me remember that I wasn’t alone—during that same conference—it was announced that a new temple for my church was going to be built in my town.

That announcement—to me—less than one month after losing my spouse, was a promise that everything was going to be ok. That He was remembering how alone I felt, and He was giving me a light at the end of my black tunnel. In my mind, that promise was going to be fulfilled ASAP! But as the months turned into years the light started to fade—a timetable of unmet expectations had me wondering about His plan.

Yesterday I got the chance to be an usher inside the walls of the building that was promised. And as I sat alone in a silent stairway—during one location of my shift—I was overcome with gratitude for the light that I felt. It was so much brighter than a glimmer at the end of a tunnel. What they didn’t announce six years ago . . . was that the location for this promised light was only one block from the location of my darkest night—on the same street even.

As I reflected in that stairway I felt a love so strong I had to wipe a few tears. What once was a small glimmer of light now stands as a magnificent glowing building—

for me . . . a symbol of His love just right up the street from the pain.  

In another spot in the temple—during the open house yesterday—I could over hear a volunteer sharing a story. In the early months of construction the building had undergone some graffiti by an uninvited trespasser. As workers showed up the next day, many suggested they just paint over it. The boss finally told them the final plan, “We can’t just paint over it . . . or else it will still be there. Just because we cover it up—it doesn’t mean it is gone. We are going to have to start on this space again. It will take more time, but it will be ok.” So they redid the whole wall.

We each have parts of us that feel like graffiti—secrets and lies, false beliefs and fears. For the most part, we spend our time trying to cover them up. But that doesn’t take them away. It may take a little scrubbing for us to get rid of the pain. It may take a little reconstruction—but just like the buildings that are dedicated to help us strengthen our relationship with our Savior . . . so are these temples that hold our spirit. If all the yesterdays you spent covering up the pain aren’t making it go away, maybe it is time to get help. Don’t be afraid to talk about it—just because you cover it up . . .doesn’t mean it isn’t still there.  Friends, family, counselors . . . all promise to have your back. And even more than all of them—you have a Creator and Savior who always will.

He doesn’t always do everything on our timetable—but the little promise of light He sent long ago . . . He hasn’t forgotten. Just wait, maybe instead of a little light at the end of the tunnel—maybe He is going to take a whole mountain and make it glow . . . just right up the street from the fear. 

Are you ok with ok? When God says it is going to be ok . . . are you still going to smile if it looks different than what you had planned—you still going to believe? Are you still going to pray, even when the world has failed you? Are you going to remember that the only advise that matters . . . is His?

We cannot be blinded by fear, or feel forgotten because it hasn’t been easy. We have to figure out how to be ok . . . with ok.

I am ok. And most days I am even better. What a difference six years, seven months . . .  and one block makes.

I know He didn’t just announce—or build—that sacred building right there for me . . . but it sure has helped me feel remembered. So many people have told me they have thought of us every time they have passed THE Walgreens. I hope from now on as they drive down that street another block and see a place that is full of light . . . they remember Him. The One who doesn’t see us as separated by religion, or governments, or race. The One who created all the beauty of the earth—everything that promises light.

I know every time I drive down that street I will remember the promise that even the darkest moments . . . if you keep going down the road a little further . . . will turn to light. Don’t you give up.

He loves us. He loves us regardless of all our graffiti . . . or the graffiti we have left for others to clean up.

And . . . He promises . . .

It’s going to be ok.

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Shawn and I took a bunch of pics the other day before it was open when we were walking the grounds. Here are a few of my favorites. We are taking the kids through next week before it is dedicated next month. I will get some good pictures to ad to these.

 All welcome for the open house! Go stop by and check it out. 

Light the World...cute face

You might recognize a cute face at the end of this video!!

Our choice to shine

Yesterday I talked with a young man—I had never met before—who told me about a struggle he was facing with suicidal thoughts. My heart ached as this young kid described the feelings of insignificance and powerful beliefs that he was a loser. He said there had been many times that ending his life felt like the only way out. Luckily many words came to my mind as I tried to council and encourage and bring hope, but the image of his little face stuck with me most of the day.

I got thinking later of some of the negative battles I fight in my mind—and though they are not the same as this kid—they have at times felt so real and have been followed with feelings of insignificance in a world much bigger than me. Sometimes it is easy to feel forgotten. Negative thoughts bombard our minds. Does my effort really make a difference? How am I important...if I am just one? 

Last night we took a few pictures of our Christmas lights. This one answered some of those questions for me.

Look at this little light bulb. It belongs to a huge strand of lights. I am sure at times this little bulb has felt forgotten on a stand full of lights that look like they shine way more clearer and way more bright. Then the snow comes along and tries to suffocate any warmth that it was trying to give. I am sure at times—if this bulb could think—it thought, “Well . . . here it is . . . proof that I am a nobody. My life, and my purpose are completely forgotten today. In fact, I might just give up because if nobody can even see me . . . then what is my purpose to shine?” And in that moment when the light bulb was thinking of just turning off, it realized it had come to a crossroad. And for a light bulb, this crossroad only has two options. The first being giving up and turning off, and the second being: shining anyway. Shining, not because anyone can see or will even notice . . . but because it was what it was created to do. Shining anyway, because God sent it here to earth to shine.

Lucky for us, this little light bulb—though he couldn’t see the others, or know what road they chose to take . . . he kept shining. He just knew that once the snow stopped everything would be ok. Even though the snow kept falling on him—he didn’t give up for a second, because he believed at some point it would be over. 

Then pretty soon, the snow stopped falling. He thought for sure that the hardest part was over. Then he realized that nothing changed for him, he was still stuck under a pile of white.

And so he was, at another crossroad. This time he wasn’t sure what the end of the struggle would be. The snow was no longer falling, but he was still scared and alone. So this brave little light, you know what he did . . . HE FOUGHT. Silently, alone, defeated, and scared he decided he wasn’t just going to shine . . . He was going to shine brighter than he ever had before.

And guess what. That determined little light bulb found that the more he shinned, the more heat he let out—and the more heat that surrounded him, the less he felt secluded and abandoned. And pretty soon, that snow—that he thought would never be lifted—began to melt away.

We each have a light shining from within us. Every moment we get to decide if we will use it to light our path or if we will let it die. If you have ever wonder if you make a difference—let me promise you . . . you do. Your light is significant, your love is powerful, and you are not forgotten. We are all part of a grand strand of lights, not one of us is going to lose it’s light without it effecting all the rest.

So like I told that little boy yesterday, “He loves you, He sees you, He believes in you. To Him you are smart, and kind, and loving, and helpful, and handsome. Don’t you dare ever let anyone tell you anything different, including your mind. Those thoughts in your head—they are the lie. Your life brings light to so many people. Anytime you hear those thoughts, you get on your knees and you say a prayer. God will not forget you—but when it feels quiet—you just keep fighting!”

Just like that little boy I want you to know you make a difference. And remember, even Christ was just one man . . . your light can change the world around you as you follow His example and shine anyway. Even if no one else can see—SHINE.

Follow the Light

Our Light the World donation and devotional on Friday was really fun. Horrible weather and all we got some great donations. Thank you to everyone who came and supported the kids. It was incredible to see all these young kids sit and listen to the presenters. It was silent in the building. I think Nathan was one of their favorite of the night. And you will see why in this video. His strength and message is so powerful. Thank you Nathan for coming and sharing your light with us. 

Stop and see

Look what the boys ran into in their travels this weekend to Teage's basketball tournament. The stop sign where we met "Chris" a few years ago.

If you don't remember that story, click on this link: Stop sign and scroll down to the bottom.

It brought back so many memories of that day. What an amazing experience that was for all of us, to remind us to stop and see.

Colors at war

We live in a world full of contradictions. We fight for peace. We lie about our strength to get power. We tear others down so we can feel big. We want our voices to be heard—our opinions to matter—but we don’t want to hear what anybody else has to say. We hurt the ones we love. We hate those who believe in something we do not, but we stand for our own rights and freedoms. We long to live in a country lead by leaders who are honest and care, so we hate anyone who doesn’t find those answers in the same party that we do.

We teach our children to be kind . . . but we show them how to hate. We want them to grow up to be individuals, but we push them to friends who will help them fit in. We tell them to love everyone, as they watch us pick a side and draw a line in the sand. We want them to stand up for themselves—but we shelter them when anyone tries to question who they are. We want them to fight their own battles, but we never let them try. We tell them to always show respect . . . but we don’t show them how.

We live in a world full of fighters, who are taking a stand against all that they do not understand. A world full of insecure individuals who have been trained to hate anyone different than them—to despise anyone who can’t see things their way . . . and then we wonder why our nation is divided.  We wonder why our babies are taking guns into schools. We wonder why nobody seems to know where they belong. They are confused. Hurting. Longing to know where they are safe.

We tell them to be strong, then they are put down for their strength. Nobody knows exactly who they should be, because the minute they try . . . somebody—somewhere—is going to hate it.

Too skinny, too fat, too black, too white. Too ugly, too pretty, too smart, too stupid. Don’t try so hard, work harder. Don’t be so silly, why are you so serious? You have to move on, how dare you succeed. You need to be strong, it is ok to be broken. You must be honest no matter what, but don't be too bold it will hurt someone's feelings. Too passionate, too passive. Too young, too old. Too tall, too short. Too much . . . not enough.

Contraditions. Chaos. Confusion. In our world. In our countries. In our towns. In our families. And in our hearts. We don’t feel safe being ourselves, so we break down anyone who tries to be.

We want to save everyone from believing the lies we just know we have answers for. So we fight them, and put them down . . . because we truly believe, until they can see life from where we stand, they will never be happy. And yet here we are . . . divided and broken—waiting for the world to change, to make us happy.

So misery, fear, anger, and bitterness fill our newsfeeds. Everyone disappointed that someone else isn’t making them happy. Everyone thinking they have the answer to another man’s joy. Only the problem with all of us hating each other as we fight for who is right—is that everyone is losing. Because history has proved that hate never brings unity. Revenge and fighting never bring peace.

If we want to live in a world that is loving—we have to be tolerable of the unlovable. If we want peace, we have to search for light. If we want to feel hope, we have to cling to faith. If we want to feel united—we must let others speak . . . but even more, we must listen. We don’t have to agree to respect. If we want to speak our truths, we have to learn to do it without the expectation that it is going to change anyone but ourselves.

When we are truly doing good for our world, it won’t matter what they think of it. We won’t need others to agree with us to help us know we are making a difference.

This time around lets do it better—for each other, for our children—for our God. We have all been blessed with so much. Let us use that freedom to share our light, not add to the darkness. You can make the difference in another person’s life—not by forcing them to find joy in your ideas . . . but by loving them as they are.

To unite a nation, we love the people. To unite a people, we are tolerant of their differences. To unite the world, we bring together our strengths and stand strong in knowing we don’t have to be the same to find joy in being together. We learn that we can be enough even when someone else is strong.

The real battles aren’t the ones being fought in red and blue—it is a fight of dark and light. Let God be with us as we share His truths, showing each hurting soul that they are enough. Standing for what we believe by living a life full of love for all men.

He didn’t create us to destroy each other, He made us different to learn how to love as He does.  Someday it will all make sense, but until then . . . let us find strength in living the faiths that teach us how to love our neighbor—no matter what color of bumper sticker they sport. No matter what type of building they gather in on Sunday. No matter what color their skin, their eyes, or their hair.

Unity comes in all colors and all forms . . . but it always starts with love.

This video seemed fitting for this week: 

Related post: Putting Yourself out there

Even in the dark...

I used to stare out into the dark of the night. Watching for what? Nothing...but everything. I truly believed if I didn't look away... I was protecting my family from something. Each evening, when darkness came and the day ended, I was scared—so full of anxiety I could not breathe. So many hours I spent at those dark windows...feeling assured that was the only way to be brave, and I was the only thing left to protect my babies.

Some nights that same fear comes and shows its ugly head—beckoning me to stay a while. Begging me to hate the dark for fear I cannot see what is hiding in its blackness.

Only a few things have changed. I am brave in a different way. I know now what I didn't then—I am nothing. It is not my strength that will get me through...it is His. It is not my power that will protect my babies—it is grace.

With that truth I can look back to that broken girl staring out the window and tell her all the miracles she was missing—thinking she would have to save herself—and help her remember the light that was too hard to see. She was never alone.

It isn't the dark that holds us back...it is our failure to remember the light that has been with us all along.

Every night turns to day. Sometimes those nights are long—and an extra dark fog covers the light of the stars...but eventually the light will win...because it is never lost. Hold on. Don't quit. Never stop fighting. Being brave is realizing how powerless we are—and fighting anyway...

Don't be mad at the darkness—it is what makes the light so bright. Miracles happen even in the dark...they are just harder to see.

The Gift of Happiness

If there is one thing I have learned in my life it is that everyone experiences trials and though no two people experience the exact same trial, similarities in the struggles we face build strength, courage, and hope! I know firsthand what it is like to lose a parent at a young age and it is hard! I grew up in a very loving home with parents who taught me correct principles to pattern my life after. My family was very close and we definitely knew how to have fun! My parents were awesome and my father was the best dad you could imagine. He worked hard to provide for our family, but when he was home he was fully vested in our lives. We played board games together, went four-wheeling, boating, skiing, hunting, sledding, and he always supported us in our sports and just plain having fun. 

On March 28, 1990 my father was headed home from work to attend my oldest brother’s basketball game when he stopped to meet a couple that was interested in leasing a building his company had built. While meeting with the couple, the original owner of the building unexpectedly showed up and brutally murdered my father. The man was chased down and taken into custody, but nothing could undo what he had just done to my Dad. My dad was shot multiple times and though we were told he fought harder than anyone to stay alive (I imagine for the chance to say goodbye to all of us), by the time he was identified and our family was contacted, he had passed away.

I was 12.

Just 10 days before turning 13 my Dad was gone. Gone from my family and gone from the estimated 4,000 people who loved him and flew in from all over to attend his viewing and funeral. My dad, the rock, the invincible, the favorite of everyone, was no longer alive. How could I go on?!

No young woman should be left without a father knowing that he will not get to take her on Daddy-Daughter dates anymore, dance goofy with her at church parties, embarrass her in front of her future dates, go to all of her High School Basketball games, congratulate her at her award ceremonies, attend her graduation, hug her at her wedding, become buds with her new husband, meet and play with all her children, and grow old together with her beloved mother. So why am I so happy then? And why do I know that there is more to life than dwelling on the things that happen “to” us instead of the things that allow us to stand?! 

I’ll tell you why. It is because I believe in the Savior, Jesus Christ, and His atoning sacrifice. I know that He has felt my pain and truly knows what I am going through. He is the light and life of this world and my faith in Him has brought healing, forgiveness, understanding and renewed strength to live my life in a way that I can bring hope and light to others. (I thank my amazing Mom for this strong conviction. She is a stalwart example of what a woman of Faith should be. She is my hero!)

Anyone who knows me, knows that I am always smiling, always laughing, and always looking for ways to make other people happy. I often get asked if I ever feel down or if anything ever goes wrong in my life because I am always cheery and upbeat. I have been happily married for 20 years, have six amazing children, and l usually make friends with everyone I meet. People assume that I do not experience pain, because I choose to be happy. What they do not know is that my father’s death was only the first of many trials to come. I have definitely had my fair share of the tears and I have wept multiple times while praying to Heavenly Father for strength. 

When I got married, I struggled for years with infertility even though we wanted children right away. When I was finally blessed with children, I suffered severe post-partum depression and later lost four children to miscarriage. I cannot even begin to tell you how many days my pillow was wet with tears. The heartache and anxiety was almost too much to bear at times and though I never felt tempted to end my life, for the first time ever, I finally understood why someone would.  I never thought my pain was going to go away. I felt like I was in a dark tunnel and I could not see the light at the end. I was sure I would be depressed forever and never feel happy again. How could this happen to someone like me? Someone who is always happy? Maybe if I prayed more it would go away or maybe if I studied my scriptures more it would go away. Well, guess what? It didn’t go away when I did those things and I did not understand why. I plead with the Lord to take it all away from me, because I was starting to forget what it felt like to be happy! 

Thank heavens for the Savior and for His grace. My depression and anxiety DID go away and though the battle was hard and long fought, the Savior never left my side. I am sure He did not want me to endure such grief and hopelessness, but He allowed me to go through it so that I would be able to help others in the future.

I firmly believe everyone has some sort of trial or trauma in their life even though we may think their life is perfect. Those who seem the happiest are usually those who have experienced the deepest pain. Recognizing that there is opposition in all things is key. Once we experience the heartache and pain, we learn to truly appreciate the comfort and peace. 

I am grateful for my trials because without them, I never would have understood how blessed I am to be happy.  I thank Heavenly Father every day for the happiness I feel in my life, because I remember all of the feelings of loss and pain. I am not bitter that I have had to face these trials, because these moments have shaped me into the woman of faith I am today.

My name is Mindi. I am strong, I am faithful, I am courageous…and I CHOOSE to stand!

To learn more about Mindi you can find her blogging at http://barkersparadise.blogspot.com or come meet her in St. George at A Reason to Stand on October 22nd.