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Category: Saturday Snippet

A Heartfelt Thank You

Some posts come easily. Others sit quietly in your heart for a long time, waiting for the right moment and the right words.

This is one of those posts.

Today, I simply want to say something that feels both simple and profoundly important:

Thank you.

When I started this page and blog back in August, I had no grand expectations. I wasn’t chasing numbers or recognition. I simply had a notebook full of thoughts, stories, reflections, and a desire to place them somewhere beyond my own mind.

What I didn’t expect was this.

I never imagined my words would travel as far as they have, or that so many people would take the time to stop, read, reflect, and stay. I certainly never expected my thoughts to resonate with others in the way they have.

Yet somehow, here we are.

Every time you read a post, leave a comment, react, share a thought, or send a private message, something remarkable happens. You remind me that words still matter. That reflection still has a place in our fast-moving world. That kindness, honesty, and thoughtful conversation are things people still value.

Your comments don’t simply remain beneath a post.

They stay with me.

They accompany me throughout the day. They make me pause and smile. Sometimes they arrive at exactly the right moment, offering encouragement when it’s most needed. On difficult days, your words have lifted my spirits. On ordinary days, they have added unexpected warmth and joy.

You may not realize it, but every reaction, every message, and every “this meant something to me” has made a difference. Truly.

By reading and engaging with this blog, you are doing something incredibly generous. You are helping a dream continue to grow. You are giving space to a voice that once spoke quietly, uncertain whether anyone would listen.

Because of you, that voice feels heard.

Because of you, it feels encouraged to keep going.

Over time, this blog has become more than a personal collection of thoughts. It has become a shared space. A place where ideas, memories, questions, and reflections meet. A place where, for a few moments, we can slow down together and connect through words.

For that, I am deeply grateful.

Thank you for your time.

Thank you for your trust.

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Thank you for your openness, encouragement, and support.

Thank you for being part of this journey since August and for transforming simple posts into meaningful conversations.

Most of all, thank you for reminding me why writing matters.

As I continue this journey, I promise to keep writing with the same honesty, care, and heart that inspired me to begin. Your support has shown me that authentic words can still connect people, and that is something I will never take for granted.

From the bottom of my heart,

Thank you.

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Learning How Not to Worry: Breaking the Habit for Good

Worry feels like an unavoidable part of life, but learning how not to worry is absolutely possible, I’m learning. Most of us aren’t born worriers — we simply practice worry until it becomes familiar. The good news is that habits can be unlearned, and calmer patterns can take their place.


Understanding Whether Worrying Is Actually Useful

Not all worry is harmful. Some worry nudges us to take responsible action — paying a bill, making a doctor’s appointment, or preparing for a difficult conversation. This is all productive worry, and it helps us to stay engaged with life.

The other kind — the kind that loops endlessly in your mind (that can make us crazy!) — is unproductive worry. It drains your energy, steals your focus, and usually centers on things you cannot control. This is so harmful, especially if we’re already compromised, like I am, with a debilitating illness.

Learning how not to worry begins with asking one simple question:

Is this something I can take action on, or something I’m imagining, fearing, or rehearsing?

If action is possible, take even one tiny “baby” step. Action of any size interrupts anxiety.


If action is not possible, remind yourself gently: “I’ve done what I can. The rest is not mine to carry.” You could also say, “I’m giving it to the Lord to carry for me. I’ve done all I can.”

This self‑talk isn’t denial — it’s boundary‑setting for your mind.


Try Setting Aside Dedicated “Worry Time”

If your thoughts feel crowded, try giving your worries a scheduled place to land. This technique is used in cognitive‑behavioral therapy and can be surprisingly effective.

Choose a consistent time each day — maybe when your partner is home and you can talk things through, or a quiet half hour in the evening. During this time, write down your worries, think them through, or brainstorm solutions.

Outside of that window, when worry pops up, remind yourself:
“Not now. I’ll think about this during my worry time.”

This helps your brain learn that worry is not welcome everywhere.


Catch Yourself in the Act of Worrying

Most worry happens automatically. You’re washing dishes, scrolling your phone, or trying to work — and suddenly your mind is spiraling out of control.

Learning how not to worry means learning to notice when your thoughts drift. This can be hard at first, but the more you practice, the easier it’ll get, I promise.

A few gentle ways to catch yourself:

  • Place a small reminder on your desk — a sticker, a word, or a symbol.
  • Keep a grounding phrase nearby, like “Return to now.”
  • Notice physical cues: tight shoulders, shallow breathing, or a racing mind.

You won’t catch every worry immediately, but you’ll catch it sooner each time. Awareness is a skill, and as I said, it strengthens with practice.


Be Patient With Yourself

Breaking the worry habit takes time. At first, these strategies may feel awkward or ineffective. That’s totally normal. You’re retraining your brain, and new pathways take repetition.

Over time, you’ll notice that redirecting your thoughts becomes easier, your mind feels lighter, and your emotional energy lasts longer throughout the day.

Learning how not to worry isn’t about perfection — it’s about reclaiming your peace, one thought at a time. My prayers are with you, my friend. Please let me know if any of this helps, or not. I’ll be happy to post more of what I’m learning or have learned in my 70 + years on this earth.


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⚽ France vs England: My Acadian Dilemma

Tomorrow’s FIFA match is France vs England, and honestly… my Acadian ancestors are probably warming up in the celestial bleachers. France is stretching, England is smirking, and I’m over here remembering juice boxes, orange slices, and tiny cleats flying in every direction.

My kids played soccer, baseball, and did scouts — so I’ve spent years cheering from folding chairs, pretending I understood the rules, and celebrating every goal like it was the World Cup. So if I yell at the TV tomorrow, it’s purely muscle memory.

May France and England battle it out with dignity… and may my ancestors forgive me if I cheer for whichever team has the cutest uniforms. 🇫🇷🇬🇧

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It’s January! A New Year. A Time of New Beginnings

Maybe you’ll set a goal for this new year⁠. Some people choose a word to represent their intentions for the year ahead. This year⁠, our family will be focusing on the same verse of scripture: Moses 6:34⁠, “Walk with me.” This was an invitation given to the prophet Enoch.

As Enoch journeyed through the land, the Spirit of God rested upon him. Then the Lord spoke to him. He taught him about His plan of happiness, which would give purpose and meaning to life. Everyone longs to have better and deeper meaning and purpose in their lives. When the Lord finished describing His plan, He gave Enoch an invitation: “Walk with me.”

As you journey through this new year⁠, maybe you’ll find yourself looking for happiness, purpose, and meaning. We could all learn from Enoch’s story and invite the Lord to be part of our journeys this year⁠, no matter where we go…or stay.

As you might already know, I have been dealing with Chronic Kidney Disease. I’m thankful to still be here, as I’ve got much to do. I hope to use my time wisely, so I’ll be ready when the time comes.

You could choose to walk with Him. As you do, blessings await. I’m sure each of us will be better for it, if we determine for ourselves that we will walk with the Lord.

It’s going to be a good year⁠.

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Do You Know These Stories?

You probably notice that I often share picture books on this blog. That’s because I believe picture books are the most versatile, powerful and …

Do You Know These Stories?
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Saturday Snippet #1: A W-I-P The Covenant Fire

From my manuscript, The Covenant Fire, a Christian/LDS YA Apocalyptic Novel with loads of exciting adventure. To be published soon!

Chapter 1, paragraph 4.

The ground heaved, a beast awakening. Hymnbooks crashed, a child’s scream pierced the air. Sarah’s training snapped in—she gripped the pew, eyes locking on exits. “Stay calm!” she barked, voice slicing through gasps. A young man nearby, Ethan Caldwell, 28, dropped his leather journal, ink smearing as the quake roared. Beams splintered, stained glass exploded in a rain of crimson shards. The Tabernacle groaned, its 164-year-old frame buckling.

Salt Lake LDS Temple

“Down!” Sarah yelled, sprinting down the aisle. A light fixture swung, nearly clipping her. She scooped up a wailing boy, dodging falling plaster, her shoulder slamming a pew. Pain seared, but she shielded him, scanning for safety. “To the exit!” she shouted, clutching the kid tight.

Ethan pushed through the chaos, waving people toward a side door. Their eyes met briefly—his hazel gaze intense, almost knowing. She handed the boy to his sobbing mother, panting. “Good move,” he said, voice steady. “Military?”

“Ex-Army,” she snapped, as the ground lurched again. They ducked under a pew, the air thick with dust. Outside, the Salt Lake Temple’s spire swayed, the Angel Moroni teetering, skyscrapers collapsing in glittering bursts. A gas main erupted, fire licking the horizon, screams blending with sirens.

(Fully written, but not yet published. To Be Continued)

Shirley

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