You Belong

  Remembering What’s True When Doubt Speaks Quietly

A few weeks ago, I was out to dinner with my son and his family. It was one of those perfect evenings, good conversation, laughter, and kindness from the people working there. Nothing unusual. Nothing negative. Just a pleasant night together.

Then suddenly, my three-year-old granddaughter looked around and announced loudly,

“We don’t belong here. We need to leave.”

Everyone at the table paused.

We asked her why she felt that way. Without hesitation, she said very confidently,

“They don’t like us.”

What struck me was that there was absolutely no evidence of that. No unkind words. No looks. Nothing had happened that would make anyone feel unwelcome. But once that thought entered her mind, it felt completely true to her, and it changed how she felt about being there.

I couldn’t stop thinking about that moment, because I realized how familiar that experience can be.

 

Satan works the same way with us.

 

He doesn’t usually show up loudly or dramatically. Instead, he plants quiet thoughts that sound believable:

·         You don’t really belong here.

·         You’re not good enough to be here.

·         Everyone else has it together, but you don’t.

 

Once we believe those thoughts, they can affect how we show up, how confident we feel, how willing we are to participate, and how connected we feel to each other and to the Spirit.

One of his most effective tactics is convincing us that we are somehow on the outside looking in.

 

The gospel teaches something very different.

The Lord reminds us in Doctrine & Covenants 18:10 that “the worth of souls is great in the sight of God” Not the worth of perfect souls. Not the worth of people who never struggle or doubt.

 Just souls.

 

That includes each one of us.

 

I think sometimes we forget that the Savior’s invitation has always been “Come unto me.”
Not come when you feel like you belong.
Not come when you finally feel worthy.
Just come.

 

When feelings of self‑doubt or not belonging creep in, it can help to pause and ask:

·         Is this thought bringing me closer to Christ or pulling me away?

·         Is this coming from truth or from discouragement?

 

If it’s distancing us from confidence, connection, or the Spirit, then it’s not coming from God.

 

That evening, we reminded my granddaughter that she did belong there that she was safe, wanted, and loved and once she heard that reassurance, she was just fine. Nothing about the restaurant changed, but everything changed once the truth was spoken.

 

I think the same is true for us. When those quiet thoughts tell us we don’t belong, nothing around us may actually need to change. Sometimes we simply need to remember what’s already true.

 

We are children of God.
Our worth is great in His sight.

And no matter what Satan whispers, we belong.

The Savior has been trying to tell us that all along.

XOXO

Tiffanee

Pool Noodles Don’t Prepare You for Life’s Waves

Life’s waves don’t wait for you to be ready and pool noodles don't prepare you for those waves.

One of my favorite things to do in Hawaii is wave jumping. There’s something exhilarating that comes from spotting the perfect wave, timing the jump, and feeling the water lift you like you’re part of the ocean for just a second.

One afternoon, while I was lounging on the beach soaking up the sun, my sister convinced me to join her in the water. She swore the waves were perfect and assured that I wouldn’t lose my favorite sunglasses. I should have known better, considering the ocean had already claimed a few pairs.

Feeling confident, I waded in. Both boogie boards were already taken, so I improvised. I slipped a pool noodle around my waist (my version of “preparation”) and headed straight in the ocean. I spotted what seemed like a manageable wave forming. I braced myself and jumped....

Big mistake.

The wave hit with full force. It knocked me off my feet, spun me around a few times and left me clawing my way back to the surface as my brother later described me a “human sandcastle.” My sunglasses were gone, my hands were scraped, and I spent the next several days getting sand out of places sand should never be.

My nieces and nephew later told us that watching Aunt Tiff get taken out by a wave was the highlight of the day.

As I sat there afterward, dripping, sandy, and slightly bruised, I had a moment of clarity: "that did not go the way I planned". I walked into the ocean totally convinced I was ready for whatever came my way. Clearly, I had misjudged both the wave and my definition of preparation.

The more I thought about it, the more it stuck with me. How often do we step into challenges believing our small, makeshift version of preparation will be enough? Sometimes our “preparation” looks an awful lot like that pool noodle: helpful to a point, but nowhere near what’s needed for the wave that’s coming.

Life has a pretty impressive way of sending waves in our direction, sudden changes, unexpected responsibilities, hard seasons. They don’t show up politely or schedule themselves into our calendars. They just appear.

The question isn’t if the waves will come.

They will.

The real question is whether we’ve built the kind of preparation that actually holds when the water gets rough.

True preparation; emotional, spiritual, practical isn’t loud or dramatic. It grows quietly through the small things: nurturing faith, strengthening relationships, learning and stretching ourselves, taking care of our minds and bodies, building routines that keep us steady when life is anything but predictable.

None of those things stop the waves from coming. Hawaii made sure I understood that.

But preparation changes how hard the wave hits and how quickly we recover afterward. Looking back, the problem that day wasn’t the wave. Waves are just part of the ocean. The problem was thinking my neon pool noodle counted as real preparation.

Life is the same way. Challenges and responsibilities will show up whether we’re ready or not. Real preparation isn’t something you grab last minute. It’s something you build long before you need it.

And when the wave finally comes, you might still get knocked around. You might still get tossed and come up with seaweed in your hair. But with real preparation beneath you, you’ll find your footing faster and you’ll walk away with more clarity than chaos and a lot less sand in your ears (and everywhere else).

Real preparation isn’t a pool noodle you grab at the last minute. It’s the steady foundation you build long before life’s waves arrive.

XOXO

Tiffanee

Walk with Me

   

A few times each year, a friend and I sign up for local races. We always laugh because we “race together”… just not at the same speed. I run, she walks. I usually finish long before she does, and instead of waiting at the finish line, I turn around, jog back along the course and find her. Then we walk the last stretch together.

Over the years, those shared miles have become my favorite part of every race.

When I’m running, I’m focused on the finish line, on pace, time, and momentum. But when I slow down to walk with her, a different world opens up. I start noticing things I completely missed while running: wildflowers pushing up through the cracks in the road, little artistic murals on old buildings, small details that would have blurred by at a faster pace. We talk. We laugh. We process life and mile by mile, our friendship has deepened not in the running, but in the walking.

There’s something sacred about slowing down enough to see what’s been there all along.

It reminds me of a quiet but powerful moment in the book of Moses, when the Lord speaks to Enoch. Enoch feels painfully inadequate; too young, too shy, too weak, too overlooked. He describes himself as “slow of speech” and someone others don’t take seriously. In today’s language, he might have said, “Why me? I’m not qualified.”

But the Lord doesn’t give Enoch a pep talk or a list of reasons he’s secretly amazing.

He simply extends an invitation:

“Walk with me.”

Those three simple words change everything. 

The Lord doesn’t say, “Go do this alone,” “Be perfect first,” or “Figure it all out before you start.” He invites Enoch into companionship, into movement, into a journey taken together, step by step. 

As Enoch accepts that invitation, something transformative happens. His capacity expands. His confidence strengthens. His spiritual eyesight sharpens until he sees things “not visible to the natural eye.” But all of that begins not with running, not with sprinting, but with walking. 

It begins with a walk.

Walking is relational.
Walking requires presence.
Walking makes space for noticing, listening, and connecting.

It’s the same lesson I learn every time I circle back to walk with my friend: the most meaningful moments often unfold at a slower pace.

Scripture often highlights big miracles and dramatic moments, but so much of discipleship happens in the quiet, steady rhythm of daily living. Walking with God doesn’t require perfect performance or flawless faith.

It looks like:

• slowing down enough to feel a nudge of the Spirit,
• noticing beauty you might have overlooked,
• choosing kindness when you’re tempted to rush past someone,
• letting God into your thoughts, your conversations, your small decisions.

Walking with God means letting Him set the pace one that allows for peace, connection, and growth.

Enoch’s story and even my small race experience reminds us that God doesn’t need flawless people. He needs willing people. People who will keep moving forward with Him even when they feel overwhelmed, too slow, or not enough. 

People who trust that if they take a step, 
He will magnify the path beneath their feet. 

What Does “Walk With Me” Look Like for You?

Maybe walking with God today means slowing your own pace just a little.
Maybe it means noticing something beautiful you’ve been rushing past.
Maybe it’s being present with someone who needs companionship.

Maybe it’s trusting that your imperfect efforts are enough.

However it looks for you, the invitation is the same as it was for Enoch:

“Walk with me.”

Just like my race experience, when we turn around, slow our pace and walk with Him, he will show us things we never would have seen on our own.  He will deepen our connection to Him.  He will make more out of our steps, small as they may seem and know you got this because he's got you 

                    

xoxo

Tiffanee

When Change Feels Like a Setback: Finding Strength in Life's Unexpected Detours

 

When I finalized my divorce, the agreement allowed me to remain in the home we had shared until my youngest daughter turned 18. After that, I was required to sell the house, split the proceeds, and find a new place to live.

At first, the idea of moving brought a surprising feeling: excitement. For the first time in years, I could go anywhere. Start fresh. Begin a new chapter. I was hopeful that this would be a good change.

But when the time came, the excitement quickly turned to fear. I still had two kids at home. I couldn’t just move anywhere. I had to stay in the area for their schools and stability. And I couldn’t make any decisions until the house sold, which took a couple of months. Once it did, I had just three weeks to find something.

We searched for houses, condos, townhomes anything within my budget, but nothing seemed to work. As the days passed, panic crept in. We had nowhere to go, no family nearby to stay with, and no backup plan.

Eventually, we found a condo that checked the boxes. I prayed about it, and after a few days, I felt peace. My lender worked quickly, and my realtor convinced the owners to let us move in a few days early while we waited to close. I remember getting the keys, standing alone in that condo, and crying. It wasn’t where I hoped to be. but it was a start. I could do this.

But the closing day came and went. Then I got the call: the lender discovered some concerning issues with the condo, and the loan wouldn’t go through.

At the time, I felt crushed. I thought we were going to be homeless. Looking back now, I can see that was a blessing in disguise. but in the moment, I was terrified. Thankfully, we were allowed to stay in the condo a little longer, though we had to be ready to leave at a moment’s notice.

We kept searching, praying, hoping. Every time I asked, I felt the same answer: “Keep trying. You are not alone.” So I did.

We tried to rent an apartment. I didn’t make enough to qualify. Even when a manager found a potential workaround, we were ultimately denied due to income limits. Again, we were left with no options.

Then my realtor found a homeowner who was renovating a property and allowed us to live there temporarily. We moved in with only the essentials, unsure how long she would let us stay.

This change I had once been excited about now felt like a never-ending trial. Every plan fell through. But I clung to the faith that God was with me.

Four months later, after countless setbacks, we pulled into the driveway of a small house. I looked around and asked my realtor, “Where even are we?” But the moment I stepped inside, I knew: This was it.

Everything fell into place quickly. We had a home. We weren’t homeless anymore.

That time in my life was one of the most stressful and faith-testing seasons I’ve ever experienced. But now, I can see how every step served a purpose. My work commute shrank from 1-2 hours to just 10 minutes. My kids were closer to school and college. We landed in a safe, quiet neighborhood. Blessings I never could have planned on my own.

Looking back, I realize that what felt like detours was actually the path. Each closed door, each sudden shift, was part of a bigger transformation not just in my living situation, but in me. Change, I’ve learned, doesn’t always arrive with clarity or comfort. Sometimes it comes through uncertainty, disappointment, and being stretched in ways you never asked for.

But change also brings growth. It taught me resilience, deepened my faith, and reminded me that even when nothing feels secure, I can still move forward. I wouldn’t have chosen the struggle, but I wouldn’t trade the strength it gave me.

Sometimes, starting over doesn’t look like a fresh slate. Sometimes, it looks like standing in a home you never imagined, in a life you never planned, and realizing: this change, hard as it was brought you exactly where you needed to be and perhaps the most incredible part is that you’re no longer the person who began the journey.

xoxo

Tiffanee

Finding Beauty in the Pieces

 A few days ago, I had one of those days the kind that leaves you drained, defeated, and questioning everything. I came home feeling like a mess of shattered pieces, like something inside me had cracked wide open.

In an attempt to quiet my mind, I pulled out a couple of Lego boxes and spilled the contents onto the table. Pieces scattered everywhere; disjointed, confusing, chaotic. And for a moment, I just sat there, staring at them, seeing myself in the mess.

But then I started building. Slowly. Step by step. Piece by piece. And with each snap of a brick, something began to form something with shape, with purpose, with beauty. When I was finished, I looked at the bouquet of Lego flowers I had built, now sitting gracefully on my table.

And I smiled. Because what once looked like a pile of nothing had turned into something beautiful.  

I have left this bouquet of flowers on my table to remind me that sometimes life can feel overwhelming like a jumble of broken pieces, but what we don’t realize is that each fragment is shaping something more beautiful than we ever imagined.     

XOXO

Tiffanee

Spread Sunshine Wherever You Go

Picture yourself lounging on your favorite beach, basking in the warmth of the sun as it kisses your face. You can’t help but feel that warmth seep into your body and soul, filling you with peace and joy.

That’s what my dad was like. He had an extraordinary way of entering a room and instantly shifting the energy, lifting the mood in the most beautiful way. He brought light wherever he went, filling every space with laughter, smiles, and happiness. It was almost like watching magic in action.

Lately, I’ve been reflecting on what made him this way. Sure, he had a remarkable personality, but there was something more.

1. He saw the best in everyone, always recognizing the good and the potential in people.

2. Not only did he see that potential, but he truly believed in you. His belief was so powerful, it made you believe in yourself, too. He was not just a great coach but your biggest cheerleader, always celebrating your progress.

3. He had a rare talent for offering tough feedback or guidance while still leaving you feeling confident, never even realizing that you’d just been corrected.

4. No matter the situation, he could find humor, and his laugh was so contagious, it filled everyone around him with joy.

5. He was always looking for ways to serve others, quietly stepping in to meet a need without expecting anything in return.

These are just a few of the qualities that made him so special, but the heart of it all was his deep love for others. You could feel it every time he entered a room his genuine care and affection for people.

Having experienced that warmth so many times, I want to live up to his example. I want to spread that sunshine wherever I go, so others can feel the same warmth and love.

Though not a day goes by that I don’t miss his sunshine, I’m forever grateful for the priceless memories that bring that warmth back in an instant. I’m thankful for my mom, my siblings, my children, and grandchildren who carry on his legacy and continue to spread that light. Most of all, I’m thankful for the life he lived and the example he set, showing how to bring sunshine into the world every single day.

This picture was taken after my daughter ran in the State Cross Country Championship race. It was a cold day and yet in our minds we remember the sunshine that was present cheering her on. 

It is a great time to follow my dad's lead and spread sunshine where ever you go!

XOXO

Tiffanee

Unexpected Healing at 30,000 Feet

Monday morning, I boarded a flight for a big work training. The past couple of weeks had been rough, and I was mentally and emotionally drained. All I wanted was to put on my headphones, zone out, and maybe sleep the whole way there.

There was a man seated on the aisle and I had the window seat. As they announced the cabin doors were closing, I felt a small wave of relief no one was in the middle seat. I’d have space, quiet, and no interruptions. I got my headphones out and started to settle in when, suddenly, a woman came rushing down the aisle and slid into the seat beside me.

Just then, the pilot came on the intercom. He shared that he was a seasoned pilot and knew someone near the back of the plane was afraid of flying. He reassured everyone that he would get us safely to our destination.

I turned to the woman next to me and said, “Wow, that was pretty cool.” That simple comment sparked a three-hour conversation that would leave a lasting impact on me. We laughed, we cried. She was a Lebanese woman, and though we came from very different worlds, we discovered so much in common even down to our age.

As the plane began to descend, I gently squeezed her arm and told her she was an answer to my prayers.

She held my arm, lifted the cross necklace she wore to her lips, and softly said, “You were an answer to mine.”

In that sacred moment, the Spirit whispered to my heart, “I know this isn’t what you wanted, but it was exactly what you needed.”

That conversation filled my soul in a way I hadn’t even realized I was craving. It restored a piece of hope I thought I’d lost. As I stepped off that plane, I carried more than just my luggage I carried a renewed sense of peace, connection, and perspective. That unexpected seatmate, that sacred moment, reminded me that sometimes the most meaningful answers come when we let go of our plans and trust the journey. I’m deeply grateful for a Heavenly Father who knows me personally and gives me not just what I ask for, but what I truly need.

xoxo

Tiffanee

The Beauty of the Empty Tomb

Last fall I got on my hands and knees and crawled through a small opening into a cave.  The cave, though spacious once you got in was damp, cold, and the darkness almost consumed you.  It was a very cool experience, but the emptiness I felt while in there was real.  

This Easter season I’ve thought a lot about the tomb that they laid Jesus’s body in. Those friends that prepared and carefully carried his body there and made sure it was secured. I imagine the darkness, heaviness, grief  and emptiness they felt as they walked away from that tomb.  I understand Mary Magdalene visiting the tomb 3 days later wanting to care for the body and the shock and grief she felt only to find the tomb empty.  

That emptiness turned out to change life for all of us. That empty tomb, would mean that Jesus had conquered death and rose again. “He lives” and because of him we too will live again.  How beautiful and symbolic that empty tomb became. Death is not the end, because of him we will live again and the glorious thing of seeing our loved ones again.  

As I climbed out of the cave that day, I could see the sun was shining, everything around me was glorious and beautiful. I stood there with people that I love, the emptiness I had felt was gone . I imagine this is how the world suddenly looked to Mary Magdalene as Jesus appeared to her that first Easter Day.  It gives me new perspective on how beautiful that reunion with our loved ones will be.  

“ Because of Him, everyone will live again. If we follow Christ, we can find true happiness on earth and look forward to eternal joy in the life to come.”

I  know "He Lives"!

Enjoy, the beauty of the resurrection and sacrifice Jesus did for us not only this Easter, but each and every day.  

XOXO

Tiffanee 

When Christmas Looks Different

One recent morning, as I was out for a walk, I realized how different everything in my life looks and I will admit I have had a hard time finding "my Christmas spirit" this year.  There have been so many changes this past year and Christmas is one of them. This year it will look very different than those in recent years. Not only are we in a new home, but instead of a houseful of family it will just be two of us. I believe we have both been mourning that fact just a bit, and I have found myself strolling down memory lane.

There is the fall my brother had a blood infection that the doctors could not figure out.  He needed to have transfusions a couple times a week, with an hour drive each way.  I cannot imagine how scared my parents were of potentially losing this very sick little boy.  After an area wide fast, we received a miracle of healing that even the stumped the doctors. I am sure Christmas looked different for my parents that year.

 Or the year we lost everything in the Teton Dam Flood.  After months of being homeless we were living in a HUD singlewide trailer. Any time it got below freezing the inside walls would ice up (and in Southeastern Idaho that happens a lot) We were constantly sick. It was less than a pleasurable experience, especially for my mom.  I am sure that Christmas that year did not look anything like my parents pictured.

 After years of infertility, I had finally gotten pregnant only to find out just days before Christmas at a routine ultrasound that I might lose the baby and was placed on immediate bed rest. That Christmas looked different.

 The year that we lost my Dad, who's birthday happens to be on Christmas, rocked all of our worlds, and Christmas looks much different now.

My thoughts turn to Mary and Joseph, I am sure they did not picture Mary going into labor in Bethlehem, scrambling to find a place to deliver and being told there were no rooms over and over.  Mary probably never pictured having the baby in a stable, where she would lay him in a manager.  Fact is even that first Christmas looked different than planned, but it was miraculous and perfect.  It didn't matter what it all looked like what mattered is that it was full of love and centered around the birth of Jesus.    

Truth is our lives change, things happen that are out of our control, but what we learn from that first Christmas is that just because it doesn't look like we think it should does not mean that it won't be perfect.  As long as we keep the key element in focus, the true meaning of the season, the birth of our Savior Jesus Christ, Christmas will be perfect, no matter what it looks like because love will fill our hearts and souls.  I realize that is the key and how my parents got through those tough times, because as kids we saw nothing but magic each Christmas.

Now looking back even though those Christmases looked different, each one had its own miracles; my brother's miraculous healing, feeling the first kicks on Christmas day of that baby that they thought I would lose and that Christmas in the trailer we were all healthy with no snow fall that day.

Since my Dad passed away, each Christmas I still picture him sitting by the fireplace like he always did, making sure to build a big enough fire to roast us all, smiling and laughing as we opened gifts.  Those memories are miraculous and perhaps what has kept me going this season.  If I were to go to him about my Christmas woes this year, he would tell me "different  is good, to suck it up".  Then would turn and lead by his quiet example of making sure Christmas no matter how it looks for me or anyone else, was built around Jesus, family and love. 

I am getting to the age where Christmas will probably look different each coming year.  A fact I need to embrace, not mourn.  So this year I will remember different is good, enjoy the precious time with my daughter, sit by the fireplace until I am roasted out (in honor of my Dad), make a traditional Christmas breakfast, Facetime family and most importantly follow the quiet example of my dad.  If I do that no matter how different Christmas looks it is bound to perfect once again!

Wishing you all a very Merry and Magical Christmas, filled with love and light, no matter how it might look this year.

XOXO 

Tiffanee

Getting Unstuck

Being single, I have often felt "stuck".  I go to singles events, date and things don't go well. Then I get in my head and slide down that slope of my thoughts that I will never find anyone or maybe I am just not good enough, along with many others that creep in. Soon I've slid down that slippery slope to the point I am ready to never date or go to any events again. 

Just over 5 years ago, with only a few weeks of being single under my belt my kids and I decided we would make the 12 hour drive to Idaho to spend Christmas with family. My son would fly in from Utah spend a week at home and then we would all drive together. Due to the winter weather we decided to stop off in Montana for the night to see my brother and his family. The roads were a bit sketchy, but we made it to my brother's house and enjoyed a night with their family. We woke up the next morning which was Christmas Eve to find about 3 inches of new snow and more falling. We decided it was best if we head out. The driveway leading out had a pretty steep hill with a deep gully on both sides. To add to it there was a stop sign at the very top where you had to turn to get on to the main road. We struggled to get to the top and just as we stopped at the stop sign we slid back and off the road leaning on the steep incline of the gully. We all carefully got out and I ran back to ask my brother for help.  

Realizing we were on the top of a steep hill, my brother assessed the situation and decided the only way to get us out was to pull us backwards. Both my son and I were in the car, as my brother moved his truck the car instantly slid all the way down the gully and up against a barbed wire fence. It was a very scary couple of seconds, the only good thing about this fact was at least now we had all four tires on the ground. My brother hooked the chain up again started to pull and "pop" the chain broke. He fixed the chain and tried again, and we just continued to stay in the gully right against that fence. I had come to the realization that if we got unstuck, my fairly new car would be damaged and I would for sure need a new side mirror on the drivers side because of the fence. At that point, I was ok with that fact as I just did not want to be stuck anymore. Within just a few minutes snow started coming down harder and I was convinced we'd never get out without a tow truck, but my brother was not going to quit. He tried several different angles and after a few tries pulled us back up onto the road. In my mind it was a true miracle! We loaded everyone up, someone stood at the top of the hill watching for cars and my brother drove my car straight up the hill and onto the main road.  

No matter what we try and tell ourselves, being stuck is no fun and we miss out on opportunities. Had my brother quit trying to get my car out, fact is eventually the tow truck would of gotten there, but with the weather conditions and holiday, odds of us making it to our destination for Christmas would of been slim. We would of been "stuck" once again and missed out on the main purpose of the trip, so that the kids could have some normalcy in their lives at that tough time by spending Christmas with Grandpa and Grandma. I think about all the opportunities and experiences I have missed out on because I felt stuck in my life.  

 As I have thought back on this experience I realized the same basic steps that were used that day to get my car unstuck can also work for when we feel stuck in life.  

•  Find courage: Step out of your comfort zone, try something new.
•  Assess your situation:  What can you do or change to make things better?
•  Make a plan and carry it out. 
•  Be willing to adjust that plan: If one thing doesn't work try something else.
•  Ask for help.  Let friends and family support and encourage you.
•  Accept the fact that you could get hurt, and be ok with it. Recognize those feelings for what they are and that it is part of life.
•  Keep trying.  Keep moving.  Don't give up.
• Use commitment to your goal move you.  Let it be scary at first.

My brother not only miraculously pulled my car out that day, he did it with the only damage being some minor scratches to the side mirror, more importantly he taught me a good life lesson that day on how to get unstuck in life.  

The night after I thought through this experience, with the encouragement of family and friends, I felt brave, pulled myself out of the gully, made a plan and attended a singles event. I will admit it was scary. No, I did not get any dates out of it, but I got quality time with incredible women, saw friends I hadn't seen in awhile and danced like no one was watching. In my book it was a win for multiple reasons. The main one being moving, no matter how slow it might be is much more fun than being stuck!

"Not everything that is faced can be changed,

but nothing can be changed until it is faced."

~James Baldwin

Face those fears, move forward, because you'll never know what could happen if you don't try!

XOXO

Tiffanee

My Angel in the Cute Green House

A few weeks ago, I lost a dear childhood friend to cancer, we had known each other since we were young, our families were close, and we spent a lot of time together. I remember one Sunday we all went to pick chokecherries, On the way back we got bored and started a chokecherry fight. I am sure our moms' weren't very happy, because not only were we really covered in berries, but we wasted some of their berries they worked so hard to pick. My blonde hair had purple stains for weeks. So many precious, priceless memories. Our friendship continued as we grew up, but after high school we lost touch. We’d comment on each other's Facebook posts, and I felt at least that was something.  A few years ago, I reached out to him when his mom suddenly passed away and we talked for a while, but when I heard he had cancer, even though I thought about him and wanted to reach out I never did.

I have this running route through town that I tend to run several times a week that goes past this cute little green house. If I was consistent with my timing, there was a lady that would stand in the front window and cheer me on every time I went past. It truly made my day and I looked forward to seeing her each time. She was my angel.  I thought many times how I wanted to get her flowers, leave her a note or something just to let her know how much she meant to me even though we'd never officially met.  With the COVID restrictions I was worried about how to accomplish it without putting her at any risk. I got injured and my running turned into walking which took me a different path and if I took the one past her house, I was way behind the normal schedule and I had not seen her in a while. 

The morning after I found out about my friend, I ran past the green house hoping to see that beautiful, smiling face in the window. In my mind I could really have used some cheering that day.  My heart sank when instead, I saw a new for sale sign in front of the house, the curtains were drawn and from the road I could see that the house was empty. This lady made an impact in my life, and I didn't even know her name.  Suddenly, I was left with not one, but two big regrets, a heart that was hurting and the feelings of losing my dad came close to the surface.  All I could focus on was the time that I could never get back and change things.

A few days later a friend came to stay with me for the weekend.  She'd heard I was volunteering at an event and jumped right in offering to help too. We got to my house at 2:00 am that morning after working on another project for that day and she admitted that she was not feeling well. She decided to sleep in a bit in the morning but would make it to the event in time to help.  Morning came quick and I left quietly trying to not wake her.  A little while later I sent her a text, that just said, "I put some tea on the counter, help yourself to anything, there are plenty of volunteers here, so just relax and take care of yourself." We touched base a few times and met up as the event was ending, went about our plans and had a great rest of the day.  The next afternoon at lunch, she tearfully expressed how much that text meant to her, to know that someone cared about how she was feeling and only wanted what was best for her.  I said it was just a little text. That is when she taught me an incredible lesson, if we are thinking about someone, reach out.  We might think it is nothing, but they may think it is everything. There is a reason they crossed your mind.  Little did she know that she was the answer to my prayers.  

No, I could not get time back to fix things with the people I have lost, but I can honor them by reaching out to those that are here, near and far.  I can honor my angel in the green house by being a cheerleader for others, my friend by supporting the fight against cancer and my dad by seeing a need and quietly taking care of it.  (He was so good at that).  I can send that quick text, express gratitude more often and most importantly listen and jump into action when the spirit guides me to do something for others. 

I am grateful to friends that supported me that weekend, without knowing the whole story. Who listened to the spirit and were guided in all that they did. They were my angels! The weekend ended and my soul felt complete once again.

So my advice...Enjoy life!

Let those you love know how you feel about them 

and

 if someone crosses your mind send that text! 

XOXO

Tiffanee

Finding Strength in Unexpected Ways

A few weeks after my divorce  was finalized, I ran a half marathon ran on my favorite trail, that fell on what would of been my 28th year wedding anniversary.  It was a good way to celebrate that I had strength and could continue onward in life. Every year since then, I’ve ran the same race to prove to myself I’m still strong enough for life as I know it.  Each year getting a little bit faster time. This year, due to my leg injury, I was unable to run it. Yesterday,  I drove past the start line of it and watched people getting ready as I was headed up north to run “just a 5k”, I felt totally defeated. 

 The Inspiring Hope Run is a great race, well ran and for an incredible cause. I have driven almost 90 minutes to run it for about 7 years now and it is always fun. It is usually held Mother's Day weekend, however this year it was moved to the same time as my annual half marathon. I was happy to have something in place for that day and figured I could walk 3 miles if I had to. 

My daughter and I had both not slept well the night before so we were both exhausted before it even began. She teased me that she was going to go from the start to the car, take a nap and jump back in a little while later to finish. I even offered her the car keys.  As we rushed to the starting line, the gloom was still around me as I still felt the defeat that I wasn't going to accomplish my goal this year, I just wasn't strong enough.. Little did I know as the start gun went off, that for me this year was more than just running a 5k for a good cause. It taught me that being strong is not in the distance of the race, it’s what you do in those miles. 

This year, I made a new friend in a young boy who ran the first mile and kept asking if I was going to ever walk, met up with mentors, friends and even the race director recognized me, spent time with my amazing daughter and watched her take off and leave me in the dust (when she was worried about making it) and totally kill it, without taking the nap. I learned I could run again, something I wondered if it would ever be possible. It might not have been the time or miles that I wanted, but I finished with only a little pain and it ended up being the shot of "inspiring hope" and realization of strength that I so desperately needed.  

Keep remembering that you are strong enough!!

XOXO

Tiffanee

The Bubblewrap Injury Theory

Injured by bubble wrap?? How is that even possible, that something that is supposed to protect items and is literally bubbles of air could injure anyone. 

I love bubble wrap.  It gives me great pleasure to pop those little bubbles of air.  A few weeks ago, I found a good size piece of it and had a great time stomping on all the bubbles.  When I finished, I found that my leg was hurting a bit and by nighttime it got worse. I attempted to stretch it out before going to bed, but by morning I could barely walk. Over the course of the next few days, I found that if I moved it hurt less.  I could not run. I found if  I walked the pain was still there, but it was bearable most of the time.  I was forced to slow down. I was bummed because I had just started making progress in my training and was finally able to go a faster pace. Walking was not the exercise I wanted to do, but it was all I could do.

Being injured just sucks. Through this experience I have come to the conclusion that I am a good caregiver, but a horrible patient. I just want to magically be healed.  Sadly, we have all experienced hurt, times when our hearts feel broken, we don't want to move for the pain is unbearable. During these times we have a choice to make and if we want to heal. Stand still or move forward.

Somedays, my walk started out well, I would go to far, then would get to a point where the pain was intense, and I just wanted to quit.  When just making it home was my only goal.  Others, where I had to physically remind myself to pick up my hurt leg with each step and there were days the pace was simply a very slow painful stroll. Yet I found if I did not move the pain was worse.  Just like with my leg when dealing with hurt, we need to move forward even if it is only a few steps at a time. The movement will be uncomfortable and often right out painful. Know it is ok to stop on the path, rest a bit, pull yourself together, gather more courage, strength and then keep moving.  

With my injury, days, turned in to weeks and I found I was noticing things I never saw before; cool mailboxes, the flowering trees (that only last a few days), cool porches and other things that now caught my attention.  Things I had been missing because I had been so focused on going faster each day.  I found that I started to focus on the present, find more joy, the pain started to become less and less.

Just like I found with my leg, emotional injuries cannot be magically cured. To use running terms, healing is not a sprint, it is a slow marathon of recovery. My advice, slow down, be present and look for the little things in life that bring you joy. Take care of yourself (be kind and gentle), rest when needed, but keep moving forward.  Eventually, you will feel the pain lessen until one day you will look back and realize it is gone. 

As I write this, my leg is still not fully healed and I am not able to run. I find myself scared to try, afraid of the pain, but if I don't try how will I know if I am healed or not?  Will I let this injury stop me from enjoying popping the bubbles on bubble wrap? Of course not, and here is where the theory comes in.  

"Don't let being afraid of pain stop you from pursuing your heart's desires. Yes, there is a chance it might hurt, but experiencing joy and happiness is worth that chance over and over again!"  

XOXO

Tiffanee

The Climb

This past summer, my 2 youngest daughters, my brother and I set out on a hike in the Targhee Ski Area. Little did we know what we were getting in to.  After a steep incline and a break we headed around the mountain before heading upwards again. We noticed very few people on the trail and they were all  descending, not climbing. One person stopped to tell us to make sure we paid attention to the small markers.  They would keep us on the trail. 

The incline got steeper, we had to climb over treacherous rocks and ended up on a narrow ledge at one point. We finally reached what we thought was the summit only to look upward to see  that if we were to climb to the top of an adjacent peak there was an operating chairlift. Totally exhausted we decided the extra climb would be totally worth being able to ride down and we were willing to pay what ever the cost. The hike to that peak was extremely difficult and our tired legs kept slipping, but we persevered upwards. 

 Reaching the top provided more than just a free downhill ride, but the most incredible views that we would of never gotten had we not continued climbing.  I've been thinking a lot about when we experience trials in our lives.  It feels like lots of things are hard and life just seems to get more difficult. When I look back I see that each difficulty helped me to get through that trial. That even though it felt hard at the time, there were markers of guidance and help from a loving Heavenly Father and Jesus to help, even carrying me at times to get me to where I needed to be.  I've learned that if we do the work, persevere and pay attention to those markers we will make it through our trials and that view at the top will be beautiful and enlightening.

The Grand Tetons were breathtaking!

XOXO

Tiffanee