Write at the Heart

My mom began running marathons when I was 16. I thought she was a little crazy. She is the most dedicated, consistent, motivated, optimistic person I know! Well, her positive energy was contagious and 4 years later I started running with her. I trained for my first marathon, my mom with me every step of the way! It was amazing to see what I was capable of. I would have NEVER believed I could be a runner, let alone run marathons, if my mom hadn’t believed in me. Over the next few years we ran some marathons together, but she would proceed to run 24 marathons!!! Between having a bunch of babies, half marathons became more my thing! Two years ago she signed up for her 25th and final marathon. She always wanted to make it to 25! And although I hadn’t run a full marathon in years, I signed up too! I went into the race feeling pretty good! I even had hopes I could PR! Well, a nice dose of humility was in store for me. The marathon went horribly! It was a nightmare that wouldn’t end. I was SO...

When my husband’s brother passed away, we spent the day at the hospital saying goodbye, mourning with family, crying all the tears we could shed, and trying to process our grief. He was gone. We went home to our devastated children with swollen eyes and heavy hearts. And an empty kitchen. I hadn’t done grocery shopping and it was now Saturday evening. Exhausted, I prepared to head to the store. Then a knock came at the door. Dinner. And another knock, some groceries, “just to get you by the next couple days.” I cried. Over the next few days, more kindness, more angels. Every little thought lifted us. Despite the pain, we were in a pocket of love. People mourned with us, comforted us, strengthened us. They shared our burden. Brought us hope. We all know the story of the army of Helaman. But what about the army of Antipus? When Helaman found them, “they were depressed in body as well as in spirit, for they had fought valiantly by day and toiled by night to maintain their cities; and thus...

Yesterday my husband taught my 8-year-old daughter to float on her back while kicking her legs. She was SO proud of herself and shouted at me in glee to watch! She had never dared try this without floaties before. Well, after a minute or two of showing me her new skill, a boat whizzed behind her, sending ripples of water towards the shore. Not realizing what was happening, her back to the coming waves, my daughter leaned back into floating position, just like she’d been doing, and to her utter surprise a wave washed over her head. She came up sputtering, immediately crying in terror and indignation. Coming to me, she sobbed, “I want to go home!!” My husband and I comforted and reassured her that we were right there to keep her safe. After a minute, she put her floaties back on and headed back into the water. But once she got in again, she started crying again “thinking about what happened to me.” Aw, poor girl! I thought, that’s just too bad that RIGHT AFTER she was brave enough to flo...

A few months ago I was having a bad day. I was at the grocery store, grumpy, feeling like a jerk cause of something I said earlier, and just really down in the dumps. I was deep in thought mentally beating myself up when I glanced up. A lady walking down the aisle looked at me, and she smiled. Not a sympathetic, “what is going on with HER” smile. Not a polite smile. Not a “wow, she looks stressed but I just need to get past her to the cereal and I don’t want to make this awkward” smile. It was a warm, kind smile. So much so that my first thought was, “Does she know me?” But I’d never seen her before. I don’t know why she smiled at me. I mean, she could probably tell I was about to burst into tears at any moment, so there’s that. But in that split second that she went out of her way to smile at me, I immediately felt lifted. It was simple. But I felt genuine love and goodness from a stranger. I think a lot of us often feel we are not enough, that our tiny efforts don’t matter, that we c...