Tag: author

The Two Minds That Shape Your Life: Conscious vs. Subconscious

The Two Minds That Shape Your Life: Conscious vs. Subconscious

Published by S.M. Ulbrich on 09/08/2026

Have you ever stopped and wondered what’s really going on inside your mind?

The more I learn about personal growth, mindset, and human behavior, the more fascinated I become with the incredible power we all carry around every day. People often compare the brain to a supercomputer, but honestly, I think it’s far more remarkable than that.

I’ve come to see the mind as having two powerful parts working together: the conscious mind and the subconscious mind. One is active, analytical, and present in the moment. The other works quietly behind the scenes, influencing our habits, beliefs, and behaviors in ways we don’t always realize.

Understanding how these two parts work has completely changed how I think about personal growth, confidence, and success.

The Conscious Mind: Your Everyday Companion

Your conscious mind is the part of you that’s awake and engaged with the world right now.

It’s the part that notices a beautiful sunset, enjoys your favorite song, tastes a great meal, or feels the comfort of a hug from someone you love.

Throughout the day, your conscious mind processes thousands of thoughts. Some are encouraging and uplifting. Others can be critical, doubtful, or fearful.

We’ve all experienced both.

One moment, we feel capable and motivated. The next, we’re questioning ourselves or overthinking a decision. What I’ve learned is that these thoughts don’t exist in isolation. They’re often influenced by something deeper: the subconscious mind.

The Subconscious Mind: The Hidden Driver

If the conscious mind is the captain of the ship, the subconscious mind is the engine room.

It’s where your beliefs, habits, memories, and emotional patterns are stored. Many of these programs serve us well. They keep us safe, help us learn skills, and allow us to navigate daily life without consciously thinking about every single action.

For example, you don’t have to remember to breathe. You don’t have to think through every movement when walking or driving. Much of that runs automatically because your subconscious has taken over.

But here’s where things get interesting.

The subconscious doesn’t just store helpful habits. It also holds limiting beliefs we’ve picked up over the years.

Beliefs like:

I’m not good enough.
I’ll probably fail.
Success isn’t meant for people like me.
It’s too late to change.

Many of these beliefs were formed years ago, yet they continue to influence our decisions today without us even noticing.

The Good News: Your Subconscious Can Change

One of the most empowering things I’ve discovered is that the subconscious mind isn’t fixed.

For years, I assumed that many of my thought patterns were simply part of who I was. But the truth is that our minds are incredibly adaptable.

The subconscious is constantly learning, absorbing information, and responding to repetition. That means we have the ability to reshape it over time.

Not overnight.

But absolutely over time.

The Power of Repetition and Affirmations

What we repeatedly tell ourselves matters.

Every thought we entertain, every story we repeat, and every belief we reinforce gradually strengthens the pathways in our minds.

That’s why affirmations can be so powerful when they’re practiced consistently.

I’m not talking about standing in front of a mirror and magically transforming your life overnight. I’m talking about intentionally replacing harmful narratives with more supportive ones.

Instead of:

“I can’t do this.”

Try:

“I’m learning and improving every day.”

Instead of:

“I always fail.”

Try:

“I’ve overcome challenges before, and I can do it again.”

The goal isn’t perfection. It’s creating healthier beliefs that support growth instead of sabotage it.

Why Visualization Works

Another practice I’ve found incredibly valuable is visualization.

There’s a reason so many athletes, performers, and successful individuals use it.

When you vividly imagine achieving a goal, overcoming a challenge, or becoming the person you want to be, you give your subconscious a clear direction.

Your brain responds strongly to imagery. The more often you visualize positive outcomes, the more familiar and attainable they begin to feel.

Be Intentional About What You Consume

We live in a world filled with information.

Every day we’re exposed to social media, news, conversations, podcasts, videos, and advertisements. Whether we realize it or not, all of it influences us.

I’ve learned that protecting what I allow into my mind is just as important as protecting my physical health.

The content we consume becomes part of the environment shaping our beliefs.

That’s why I try to spend more time around ideas, people, and messages that encourage growth, possibility, and personal responsibility.

Habits Are Messages to Your Subconscious

Every habit sends a signal.

When you consistently exercise, read, meditate, write, or work toward a goal, you’re teaching your subconscious what matters to you.

Over time, those actions become part of your identity.

The small daily choices that seem insignificant today often become the foundation of who we are tomorrow.

Become the Gardener of Your Mind

One of my favorite ways to think about this is through the image of a garden.

Every thought is a seed.

Some seeds grow into confidence, gratitude, resilience, and joy.

Others grow into doubt, fear, resentment, and self-sabotage.

The challenge isn’t stopping every negative thought from appearing. That’s impossible.

The real challenge is deciding which thoughts deserve your attention and energy.

When a negative thought shows up, don’t automatically accept it as truth.

Question it.

Challenge it.

Ask yourself whether it’s actually true or simply an old story you’ve been telling yourself for years.

Then replace it with a thought that serves you better.

The more often you practice this, the easier it becomes.

Final Thoughts

One of the greatest realizations I’ve had is that we are not powerless observers of our thoughts. We have far more influence over our minds than we often believe.

Our conscious mind shapes our daily experiences, while our subconscious mind shapes the patterns behind those experiences. When we begin working with both intentionally, real transformation becomes possible.

The process isn’t about becoming perfect. It’s about becoming aware.

Because once you’re aware of the thoughts, beliefs, and habits shaping your life, you can begin changing them.

And that’s where real growth begins.

The power has been within you all along.

2 Comments

⭐ A BIRTHDAY STORY FOR FORREST

⭐ A BIRTHDAY STORY FOR FORREST

Published by S.M. Ulbrich on 08/27/2026

I had been researching my grandson, Forrest’s family line and discovered the name Isaac Pemberton — a Philadelphia Quaker who lived during Revolutionary times. As I imagined what it might feel like for Forrest to receive this ancestor’s story as a birthday gift today, the picture of a small leather-bound booklet came to mind. Inside it, he discovers the tale of a man who stood for peace when the world demanded war. This is that story — written for Forrest, and shared here for anyone who values courage of conscience. Happy Birthday, Forrest!

⭐ THE MAN WHO WOULDN’T RAISE A GUN

A Birthday Story for Forrest

(Based on the life and era of Isaac Pemberton, Philadelphia Quaker, 1775)

🌿 Prologue — The Package

Forrest didn’t expect anything in the mail that day. Bills, sure. A flyer or two. But not a small, hand‑wrapped parcel with his name written in his grandmother’s handwriting — the kind that looks like it took some time.

Inside was a leather-bound booklet, soft and worn, like something meant to be kept. The first page held only a single line:

“Every family has someone who stood up when it mattered.”

He turned the page.

And the story began.

🌿 Chapter One — A City on Edge

Philadelphia, 1775.

The city was loud with talk of war. Blacksmiths hammered iron into musket barrels. Tavern doors swung open with arguments spilling into the street. Men gathered in clusters, whispering about rebellion, loyalty, and the price of freedom.

But inside the quiet of the Quaker meeting house, Isaac Pemberton sat with his hands folded, listening for the stillness he believed God spoke through.

He was twenty‑three — the same age Forrest once was when life felt heavy and uncertain. Isaac wasn’t a soldier. He wasn’t a politician. He was a craftsman, a helper, a man who believed peace wasn’t weakness but discipline.

One morning, militia officers arrived at the meeting house with enrollment papers. Every able-bodied man was expected to sign. The officers stood at the front, calling names, handing out quills.

Isaac felt his heart pounding. He knew what refusal would cost him. He knew what people would say.

But he stepped forward anyway.

“I cannot raise a gun against any man God has made.”

The room went silent.

Some men looked away. Some shook their heads. One officer muttered under his breath. But Isaac didn’t waver.

He set the quill down.

And walked out.

🌿 Chapter Two — The Cost of Conscience

Refusing the militia wasn’t just unpopular — it was illegal.

Within weeks, Isaac’s tools were seized. His horse was taken. He was fined more than he could pay. Neighbors whispered that he was a coward. Others said he was a traitor. Some stopped speaking to him altogether.

But Isaac kept working.

He repaired fences for widows whose husbands had gone to war. He carried water for the sick. He shared bread with families who had less than he did. He helped anyone who knocked on his door.

He refused violence, but he never refused people.

One afternoon, a group of men confronted him in the street.

“War is coming,” one said. “You’ll let others fight for your freedom?”

Isaac answered softly, “I will work for peace as hard as you work for war.”

They didn’t understand. Most wouldn’t. But Isaac didn’t expect them to.

Courage, he believed, wasn’t always loud.

🌿 Chapter Three — The Night of the Wounded Man

It was late when Isaac heard the knock.

A young soldier — barely older than Forrest — collapsed at his doorstep, bleeding from a skirmish outside the city. His uniform was torn, his face pale, his breath shallow.

Isaac lifted him, carried him inside, and tended his wounds with steady hands. He boiled water, tore cloth, whispered prayers.

The soldier looked at him through half‑closed eyes.

“Why help me?” he asked. “I’d have shot you.”

Isaac didn’t hesitate.

“Peace isn’t so much a belief,” he said. “It’s a practice.”

The soldier survived. Isaac never told anyone. Not the meeting. Not the militia. Not even his family.

Some acts of courage don’t need witnesses.

🌿 Chapter Four — The Quiet Rebel

Years passed. The war raged. Isaac continued to refuse militia service, loyalty oaths, and anything that required him to harm another person.

He wasn’t loud about it. He didn’t make speeches. He didn’t argue in taverns. He simply lived his conviction every day, even when it cost him.

He wrote his story in a small journal — not to boast, but to remind future generations that courage comes in many forms.

He wrote:

“Some men fight with muskets.
Some fight with conscience.
Both require bravery.”

Those words became the final page Forrest read.

🌿 Epilogue — Forrest

Forrest closed the booklet and sat quietly.

He didn’t know everything about his ancestor, the “first American conscientious objector.”He didn’t know everything about his own future. But he knew this:

He came from someone who stood firm when the world shook.

Someone who chose peace when anger was easier.

Someone who survived hardship without losing himself.

And maybe — just maybe — that strength runs in him too.

Stories like Isaac Pemberton’s remind us that courage doesn’t always look like battlefields or banners. Sometimes it looks like a single person standing quietly, refusing to bend against the weight of the world. I wrote this for Forrest, but I share it here because we all need reminders that strength can be gentle, and that peace can be brave. May this story — and the blessing that follows — be a light for anyone walking their own uncertain road.

🌿 Closing Blessing

A Blessing for Your Path

May the road before you be steady, and may your steps be guided by the quiet wisdom that lives within you.

May you find courage in gentleness, strength in compassion, and clarity in every new beginning.

May the God who shaped your ancestors shape your days with peace, purpose, and a light that never dims.

And may you always remember: you are part of a story still being written — one marked by resilience, hope, and the quiet bravery of choosing what is right.

Leave a Comment

Tribute: “Be Like Dolly”

Tribute: “Be Like Dolly”

Published by S.M. Ulbrich on 08/25/2026

Good evening, friends.

Today, we celebrate the life and legacy of a remarkable woman whose voice filled concert halls, whose songs touched hearts, and whose generosity changed lives.

Many people knew Dolly Parton as a country music legend. Millions knew her as an entertainer, songwriter, actress, and performer. But those who admired her most often saw something even greater. They saw a person who never forgot where she came from.

Born into poverty in the mountains of Tennessee as one of twelve children, Dolly understood hardship from an early age. She knew what it meant to have little and dream big. Through talent, determination, faith, and relentless hard work, she built a life that inspired people all over the world.

Yet success never seemed to change her heart.

She remembered the families struggling to get by. She remembered children who needed opportunities. She remembered the importance of reading, learning, and believing in yourself. Through the Imagination Library, millions of books found their way into the hands of children who might otherwise never have owned one.

That may be one of her greatest songs, although it was never sung. It was written in kindness, one book at a time.

Dolly also taught us that strength doesn’t have to be loud. It can be humble. It can be generous. It can wear a smile and still move mountains.

Faith was an important part of her life. Hope was part of her message. Love was part of her example.

In a world often divided by anger and criticism, Dolly Parton reminded us to laugh, to dream, to help one another, and to remain grateful for our blessings.

Her music will endure. Her words will endure. But perhaps her greatest legacy is the example she leaves behind.

An example that says:

Never forget your roots.

Never stop believing.

Never stop giving.

And never underestimate the power of kindness.

May we honor her not only by remembering her songs, but by living the values she shared with the world.

Thank you, Dolly.

And may we all strive to “Be Like Dolly.”

—

Blog Post: Be Like Dolly

Be Like Dolly: More Than a Country Music Legend

Some people become famous.

A few become beloved.

Almost none become both while remaining humble, generous, and authentic.

That is why Dolly Parton’s story continues to inspire millions of people around the world.

What makes Dolly remarkable is not simply the music. It is not the awards, the hit songs, the sold-out shows, or the decades of success. The truly inspiring part of Dolly’s story is where she began and what she chose to do with her success.

Growing up in rural Tennessee as one of twelve children, Dolly experienced poverty firsthand. She understood struggle, sacrifice, and the importance of family. Those early experiences shaped the values that would remain with her throughout life.

Rather than allowing success to separate her from ordinary people, Dolly used her platform to help them.

The Imagination Library became one of the most successful literacy programs in modern history, providing free books to children and encouraging a lifelong love of reading. The program reflected something fundamental about Dolly’s character: a belief that every child deserves opportunity.

Dolly also demonstrated that kindness and strength are not opposites. She never seemed ashamed of her background, her faith, or her unique personality. In an era when public figures often reinvent themselves, Dolly remained unapologetically Dolly.

Perhaps that is why so many people from different backgrounds admired her. She represented something increasingly rare: authenticity.

Her life reminds us that success means little if it cannot be used to help others. Wealth matters less than generosity. Fame matters less than character.

The lesson is simple.

You do not have to be a celebrity to change someone’s life.

You do not have to write hit songs to inspire hope.

You do not have to be wealthy to be generous.

You simply have to care.

When future generations look back on Dolly Parton’s legacy, they will remember the music. But they will also remember the books, the kindness, the faith, the laughter, and the countless lives touched by her generosity.

That is why her story matters.

And that is why the best tribute may be the simplest one:

Be Like Dolly.

1 Comment

✨ One Year Later

✨ One Year Later

Published by S.M. Ulbrich on 08/22/2026

One year ago, on August 19, 2025, I wrote an update during a season of rebuilding — physically, creatively, and spiritually. Reading it again this week, in the middle of my anniversary emotions and all the memories that come with it, reminded me how much has changed and how much God has carried me through.

At that time, I was recovering from CKD stage 4 and learning to work within the rhythms of my health. Today, I’m back in stage 4 again, and while that is difficult, it has also deepened my understanding of resilience. I continue to honor the quiet days and celebrate the creative ones. This journey still teaches me patience, strength, and grace.

Last year, I was searching for an illustrator. Today, I’ve found a workable rhythm using NightCafe for my artwork. It has allowed me to keep moving forward without the financial strain of hiring an artist. I still hope to collaborate with a young illustrator someday — especially someone who feels connected to the stories — but for now, this path has given me freedom and momentum.

And the creative growth… I never expected this much to bloom in just one year. The George Washington children’s book — inspired by my great‑granddaughter in her bright red patriotic dress — has grown into a full project. My Bedtime Story book is almost ready for publishing. I’ve created an adult coloring book, nearly finished a second mandala coloring book, and designed six “Walking with Christ” journals featuring artwork that reflects every stage of life. I’ve built an Acadian clip‑art book and several other projects that weren’t even imagined a year ago.

Looking back at the post from August 19, 2025, I see a woman hoping for progress. Today, I see a woman who has built an entire shelf of books, journals, and art — one gentle step at a time.

Here is the post exactly as it appeared one year ago.

August 19, 2025

Hi, everyone! I’m excited to share the second installment of my author blog. Let’s dive in! My sleep disorder has posed challenges, but it has forged resilience and adaptability within me. There are nights when I wake up around 10:00 or 11:00, yet I’ve learned to embrace those quiet moments and reflect on what I cherish most.

This journey, though isolating at times, has illuminated the strength found in the cycles of my health. When I feel “well,” I seize the opportunity to immerse myself in writing, gathering rich material for my stories and eager to unleash my creativity.

Moving to East Texas brought a long stretch of limited activity, but I emerged with invaluable lessons in perseverance. Surviving heat stroke and battling Covid twice revealed the immense power of prayer and community support, helping me recover from stage 4 to stage 3.

Recently, a video from my daughter featuring my great-granddaughter in her bright red patriotic dress filled me with inspiration. Her exuberance rekindled my passion for the stories I hold dear. Now, I am diligently working to get my books published!

I am actively seeking an illustrator, reaching out to past collaborators, and my husband has explored local high school resources. The art department head was impressed with my story and suggested involving a student—what a brilliant idea!

I am determined to move forward quickly and will be following up soon. Stay tuned for more updates on my creative journey!

1 Comment

✨ Our 50‑Year Anniversary Story

✨ Our 50‑Year Anniversary Story

Published by S.M. Ulbrich on 08/21/2026

For our 50th anniversary, I wanted to gather the story of our life — the temples, the moves, the miracles, the losses, the laughter, and the quiet ways we kept choosing each other through every season. This isn’t just a timeline; it’s the map of a marriage built across states, decades, and faith. It’s a love story shaped by resilience, devotion, and the kind of companionship that grows deeper with every storm weathered and every sunrise shared.

If you’d like to read the full story, it’s below — a celebration of fifty years of us.

(A letter for my husband — August 21, 2026)

My love,

Fifty years. Half a century of us — of choosing each other, holding each other, building and rebuilding a life across states, temples, heartbreaks, miracles, and every kind of weather a marriage can walk through. When I look back, I don’t just see the years. I see you.

I see the young man I met at Signetics in Orem — the one every woman flirted with, the one who somehow became my friend in the middle of my own storms. I had Corey and Tracy, you had Alex and Ben, and both of us were trying to survive marriages that were already breaking. We didn’t plan a life together. We simply kept showing up for each other until life itself nudged us into the same direction.

And then came that Christmas of 1975 — the layoff, the eviction, the panic. You found me a place in Salt Lake City, found work nearby, and without knowing it, you set the first stone of our shared foundation. We didn’t fall in love in a moment. We built love out of survival, loyalty, and the way you refused to let me face anything alone.

🌿 The Early Years — Loss, Courage, and Holding On

We moved on January 1, 1976, carrying more hope than belongings. Then came the devastation no parent should ever face — losing Tracy. Losing everything we owned. Losing the Cougar. And yet, even in that grief, we stayed side by side.

Mama’s house. The funeral. Corey kidnapped the night of the viewing. Our first apartment. Our first purchase together — that king‑sized waterbed, our first big purchase on time, and even now, with a mattress we still sleep on. Even then, we were learning how to be a team.

Southern California beaches gave us rest. Quiet days, lazy waves, long talks, always with music to soothe us. You missed your boys. I missed Corey and Tracy. We were two people grieving separately, but healing together.

Then came the loss of our baby boy at five months. Another heartbreak. Another moment where we could have fallen apart — but didn’t.

💍 The Day We Chose Forever

My divorce finalized in August. We married on August 21, 1976, in Las Vegas at the tiny white “Chapel of Eternal Love.” We dressed in a gas station bathroom — me in a long white polyester dress with a white embroidered collar. We couldn’t afford a room, so we celebrated at Denny’s in the middle of the night. Then we drove home, closer to each other than two people have ever been.

That night wasn’t fancy. It wasn’t grand. But it was ours, and it was perfect. We made it OUR chapel of eternal love. From that day, I never felt otherwise, that our love is eternal.

🏡 Becoming a Family

Corey came home after nine months missing. Alex and Ben came home a few days later. Oh, we were so very happy! We celebrated Halloween and Thanksgiving together. Fantasia was our first movie as a family. You brought me flowers every day for years. We were complete — or as complete as life allowed.

Varian. Church every Sunday. Sarah’s birth. No bucket seats — always cheek to cheek.

Washington. Boeing. Rachael’s birth. Acreage, camping, canning, goats, pigs, rabbits, homeschooling. A whole world built from scratch. We were so much in love, so thankful for each other. Even 20 years later, we couldn’t wait to hold each other tight every night.

✨ Sacred Places, Sacred Promises

Our sealing in the Hawaii Temple — ten days in paradise, one on Maui. Sushi for the first time. Pearl Harbor. BYU–Hawaii. The Polynesian Cultural Center. Driving all over Oahu with joy in our bones. Stargazing into the brilliantly clear night sky, thanking our Father for our many blessings.

Mt. Haleakalā — the highest volcanic mountain in the islands. The young doctor and his pregnant wife who joined us. My altitude sickness. Your shoulder injury. The doctor treating you on the beach the next day. Even in the strangest moments, we were blessed.

🌱 The Middle Years — Work, Service, and Hard Lessons

School. Degrees. Fostering. Political life. Exhaustion. Parenting styles clashing. Kids running in opposite directions. Painful years. Both girls pregnant. The kind of heartbreak that ages a person.

Then, Penryn Park — caretakers. Isolation. Peace. Healing. Unity. The earth itself seemed to hold us together.

🌾 The Later Years — Dreams, Realizations, and Grace

Hawkins, East Texas — the dream fulfilled, then sickness, like a dark shadow, creeping in, once again. The slow painful realization that some dreams arrive later than we hoped. But even then, we stayed side by side.

Now we plan the conclusion gently. We take things slower. We prepare for one last move — to be near family. To settle all things. To finish our story the same way we began it: together.

💛 What I Celebrate Today

I celebrate your strength.
I celebrate your devotion.
I celebrate the way you have carried burdens no one else sees.
I celebrate the way you have loved me through sickness, exhaustion, and every season of life.
I celebrate the way you have shown up — again and again — even when life was unfair.

I celebrate us.

Fifty years of temples.
Fifty years of moves.
Fifty years of children, losses, miracles, and memories.
Fifty years of choosing each other.

My love, we have lived a life that could fill volumes. And through every chapter — the beautiful ones, the painful ones, the ones we barely survived — you have been my partner, my protector, my companion, my home.

Happy 50th Anniversary.

I love you more now than I did on the night we stood in that tiny white chapel.

And I will love you still in every chapter that remains.

✨ Gentle Closing Blessing for the Anniversary Letter

May the years ahead be lighter than the ones behind us.
May peace settle into the corners of our days,
and may kindness be the language we speak to one another.

May we walk slowly, hand in hand,
grateful for the chapters we’ve lived
and tender with the ones still unfolding.

May God hold us close,
heal what has been heavy,
and bless the rest of our journey
with gentleness, warmth, and quiet joy.

And may love — the steady, enduring kind —
continue to be the thread that ties us together
in every step we take from here.

1 Comment

Happy National Acadian Day; bonne fête nationale de l’acadie!

Published by S.M. Ulbrich on 08/15/2026

Today, August 15, is National Acadian Day … and it’s also India’s Independence Day. Two different different stories in different parts of the world, …
Happy National Acadian Day; bonne fête nationale de l’acadie!

National Acadian Day, known in French as Fête nationale de l’Acadie, is celebrated each year on August 15 in parts of Canada as a tribute to Acadian culture and heritage. The date was chosen in 1881 during the first National Convention of the Acadians in Memramcook, New Brunswick, when Acadian leaders were given the mandate to establish a national day of celebration. Its observance also aligns with the Feast of the Assumption of Mary, giving the day both cultural and religious significance for many Acadians.

Leave a Comment

Katelyn’s Assignment

Katelyn’s Assignment

Published by S.M. Ulbrich on 08/10/2026

The moment Katelyn arrived in the Afterplace—somewhere between heaven and the warm glow of a memory—she was handed a clipboard.

She blinked at it. “A clipboard? Seriously? I thought angels had, like, scrolls. Or glowing tablets. Something fancy.”

A tall, shimmering attendant smiled at her. “We tried tablets. Everyone kept dropping them through clouds. You’re assigned to a case.”

“A case?” Katelyn flipped the page. “Am I… a guardian angel?”

“Technically,” the attendant said, “you’re a Preventative Guidance Specialist.”

Katelyn snorted. “So… a guardian angel with a sense of humor.”

“Exactly why we picked you.”

She looked down at the file. A photo of a girl—beautiful, long-legged, with the kind of cheekbones that made makeup artists weep—was clipped to the top.

Name: Lila Hart
Age: 18
Occupation: Model
Risk Level: High
Primary Temptation: Party drugs, peer pressure, bad decisions involving boys with jawlines too sharp to be trusted.

Katelyn raised an eyebrow. “Oh, she’s me at eighteen. Except taller. And probably better at eyeliner.”

“She needs someone who understands her,” the attendant said. “Someone who can speak her language.”

Katelyn sighed, but her heart warmed. “Okay. I’ll help her.”

“And Katelyn?” the attendant added gently. “You’re allowed to use humor. It’s one of your gifts.”

“Oh, I plan to,” she said, flipping her hair like she was about to walk onto a runway.

Chapter One: The Baggie Incident

Lila Hart was sitting on the edge of her bed in her tiny New York apartment, staring at a little plastic baggie. The contents sparkled—not in a magical way, but in a this-will-ruin-your-life way.

Her phone buzzed. A text from her new modeling friends:

Party tonight. Bring the stuff.

Lila swallowed hard.

That’s when Katelyn appeared.

Not with trumpets. Not with glowing wings. She simply shimmered into existence like a sunbeam deciding to take human form.

“Hey,” Katelyn said casually.

Lila screamed, fell backward, and hit her head on a pillow—thankfully.

“Who—what—how—”

“I’m your… guidance counselor,” Katelyn said, waving her clipboard. “From the Afterplace.”

“The what?”

“It’s like heaven,” Katelyn said. “But with better lighting.”

Lila blinked. “Am I dead?”

“Nope. But you’re about to make choices that could get you there early, and trust me, the onboarding process is long.”

Lila stared at her. “You’re joking.”

“Oh, I joke constantly,” Katelyn said. “But not about this.”

She plucked the baggie from Lila’s hand, sniffed it, made a face, and swapped it with another baggie she pulled from her pocket.

“There,” she said. “Prenatal vitamins.”

Lila blinked. “Prenatal vitamins?”

“Yep. They’re good for your hair, nails, and future babies you’re not having yet. Also, they won’t kill you.”

Lila stared at the new baggie. “Why do you have prenatal vitamins in a baggie?”

Katelyn shrugged. “I like to be prepared.”

Chapter Two: Text Message Sabotage

Lila’s phone buzzed again.

You coming?

Katelyn snatched the phone and typed:

I can’t go to the party tonight; I’m eating carbs.

Lila gasped. “You can’t send that! They’ll think I’m weird!”

“They already think you’re weird,” Katelyn said. “You’re a model who eats. That’s practically rebellious.”

The phone buzzed again.

lol girl u ok?

Katelyn typed back:

No. I’m emotionally fragile and retaining water.

Lila grabbed the phone. “STOP!”

Katelyn grinned. “Look, if they’re your real friends, they’ll laugh. If they’re not, they’ll stop inviting you to parties with drugs. Win-win.”

Lila sank onto the bed. “Why do you care?”

Katelyn softened. “Because I know what it’s like to be young and scared and trying to fit in. And because I know what it’s like to make choices that hurt your heart.”

Lila looked up. “Your heart?”

Katelyn nodded. “Yeah. Mine gave out. I didn’t know how sick I was. I didn’t know how much damage I’d done. I thought I had more time.”

Her voice trembled, but she steadied herself.

“I don’t want that for you.”

Chapter Three: The Rooftop

A week later, Lila stood on the rooftop of her apartment building, staring at the city lights. She’d avoided the parties. She’d avoided the baggies. She’d even started taking the prenatal vitamins, which made her hair look amazing.

Katelyn appeared beside her, sitting cross-legged on the ledge.

“You’re doing good,” she said.

Lila shrugged. “I still feel tempted sometimes.”

“Of course you do,” Katelyn said. “Temptation doesn’t disappear. It just gets quieter when you stop feeding it.”

Lila sighed. “I don’t know if I’m strong enough.”

Katelyn nudged her shoulder. “You’re stronger than you think. And you’re not alone.”

Lila looked at her. “Did you have anyone?”

Katelyn smiled softly. “I had my grandmother. She told me death wasn’t scary. She told me loved ones would greet me. She gave me peace when I was terrified.”

Lila swallowed. “You miss her?”

“Every day,” Katelyn said. “But she’s here. In the Afterplace. And she’s proud of me. And she’d be proud of you.”

Lila’s eyes filled with tears. “I wish I had someone like that.”

“You do,” Katelyn said. “Me.”

Chapter Four: The Party That Wasn’t

One night, Lila’s phone buzzed again.

Big party tonight. VIP only. You in?

She hesitated.

Katelyn appeared instantly. “No.”

“But—”

“Nope.”

“They’ll think I’m boring.”

“They already think you’re boring,” Katelyn said. “You’re a model who reads books.”

Lila laughed. “I don’t read books.”

“You will,” Katelyn said. “I’m manifesting it.”

Lila sighed. “I just… want to belong.”

Katelyn took her hand. “You belong to yourself. And someday, you’ll find people who love you for who you are—not for what you bring in a baggie.”

Lila nodded slowly. “Okay. I’ll stay home.”

“Good,” Katelyn said. “We’re watching a movie.”

“What movie?”

“Something with no drugs, no heartbreak, and no boys named Chase.”

“Why Chase?”

“Trust me,” Katelyn said. “Never Chase.”

Chapter Five: The Confession

Weeks passed. Lila grew stronger. She started eating real meals. She slept more. She laughed more. She even met a sweet boy who didn’t party, didn’t pressure her, and didn’t have a dangerous jawline.

One night, she asked Katelyn, “Why me?”

Katelyn smiled. “Because you remind me of myself. Because you’re beautiful and bright and full of potential. And because you’re standing at the edge of a cliff I once fell off.”

Lila swallowed. “Did you regret it? The drugs?”

Katelyn nodded. “Yes. Not because I was bad. Not because I was weak. But because I didn’t know how much I was hurting myself. I didn’t know how fragile my heart was. I didn’t know how much time I was losing.”

Lila’s eyes filled. “I don’t want to lose time.”

“You won’t,” Katelyn said. “Not if you keep choosing life.”

Chapter Six: The Saving

One night, Lila got a call from her old party friends.

Come out. Just one night. No pressure.

She hesitated.

Katelyn appeared instantly. “Talk to me.”

“I… I kind of want to go.”

“Why?”

“I miss feeling included.”

Katelyn took her face in her hands. “You are included. In your own future. In your own dreams. In your own story.”

Lila trembled. “I’m scared.”

“I know,” Katelyn whispered. “But fear is a sign you’re about to grow.”

Lila nodded. “Okay. I won’t go.”

Katelyn smiled. “Good girl.”

Lila exhaled shakily. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For saving my life.”

Katelyn’s eyes softened. “I didn’t save your life. You did. I just nudged you toward the light.”

Chapter Seven: The Goodbye

One morning, Lila woke up and felt something different. The air was still. The room was quiet.

Katelyn stood by the window, glowing softly.

“You’re leaving,” Lila whispered.

Katelyn nodded. “You don’t need me anymore.”

Lila’s eyes filled. “But I want you.”

Katelyn smiled gently. “I’ll always be around. Just not in person. You’ll hear me in your instincts. In your laughter. In your better choices.”

Lila swallowed. “Will I see you again?”

“Someday,” Katelyn said. “But not for a long, long time.”

Lila hugged her tightly. “I love you.”

Katelyn held her close. “I love you too. And I’m proud of you.”

She pulled back, winked, and said, “And remember—never Chase.”

Then she shimmered, sparkled, and vanished like a sunbeam deciding it had somewhere else to be.

Epilogue

Years later, Lila Hart became a successful model—not the kind who partied, but the kind who inspired young girls to love themselves.

She married the sweet boy with the safe jawline.

She had a daughter with thick, beautiful hair—thanks to prenatal vitamins.

And sometimes, when she stood on a rooftop at sunset, she felt a warm glow beside her.

A presence.

A laugh.

A whisper: “I’m still here.”

And she smiled, knowing she had been saved by a guardian angel with a clipboard, a sense of humor, and a heart that still shone bright.

Dedicated to my beautiful granddaughter, Katelyn, who is on the other side.

Leave a Comment

Learning How Not to Worry: Breaking the Habit for Good

Learning How Not to Worry: Breaking the Habit for Good

Published by S.M. Ulbrich on 08/01/2026

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.

Leave a Comment

A New Vignette Story

A New Vignette Story

Published by S.M. Ulbrich on 07/17/2026

There are moments in history — and in our own lives — when hope feels like a small flame held against a vast, uncertain world. This story was inspired by an AI‑created illustration of a young Acadian girl standing on a twilight cliff, lantern in hand, watching the sea with quiet strength.

Her image stirred something ancient and familiar: the resilience of Acadian families, the way faith becomes a compass, and how light — even a single lantern — can guide someone home.

Below is the story that grew from that image, written in the spirit of remembrance, gentleness, and the enduring Acadian heart.

On a personal note:
Next week, on the 23rd, my youngest daughter celebrates her birthday. I wanted to do something meaningful for her — something created from the heart — and though money is tight, love never is. So I chose to write this story and dedicate it to her.

Rachael’s love for her dad has always been sweet and uniquely her own. She carries a deep appreciation and respect for him that has blessed our family for decades, and I treasure that about her.

In celebration of her 47th year of life, I dedicate this story to our beautiful daughter, Rachael Lopez.

Happy Birthday, Sweetheart. You are a light all your own.

The Lantern of Beausoleil

The wind carried the scent of salt and pine as Élodie Broussard stood on the cliff’s edge, her shawl fluttering like a crimson wing. Below her, the sea breathed in slow rhythm, its waves whispering against the rocks as if remembering every voyage that had ever crossed its surface. The lantern in her hand glowed softly, a fragile sun against the deepening dusk.

She had come here every evening since her father’s ship failed to return. The villagers said the sea had claimed him, as it had claimed so many Acadian souls before — but Élodie refused to believe that the ocean could swallow faith whole.

The Acadian flag beside her snapped in the wind, its golden star catching the last light of the setting sun. That star, her mother had told her, was the Stella Maris — the Star of the Sea — guiding those who wandered far from home.

Tonight, Élodie whispered to it. “Guide him back to me.”

🌾 The Village Below

Down the slope, the village of Saint‑Pierre glowed with lamplight. Smoke curled from chimneys, and the church bell tolled softly, calling the faithful to evening prayer. The sound drifted upward, mingling with the sigh of the waves.

Élodie’s mother, Cécile, waited by the chapel door, her hands folded around a rosary worn smooth by years of prayer. She had stopped asking Élodie to come down before dark. The girl’s vigil had become a kind of sacred ritual — one that neither mother nor priest dared interrupt.

“Let her stand,” Father Armand had said once. “Faith sometimes needs wind and silence more than words.”

And so Élodie stood, each night, lantern raised like a promise.

🌊 The Memory of Departure

She remembered the morning her father left — the harbor alive with gulls and laughter, the ship’s sails swelling like the hearts of those who believed in new beginnings. He had kissed her forehead and said, “Keep the light burning, ma petite. The sea always finds its way home.”

She had laughed then, not knowing how heavy those words would become.

When the storm came weeks later, it tore through the coast with a fury that felt biblical. The villagers prayed, the mothers wept, and the sea roared as if answering every plea with thunder.

In the days that followed, wreckage washed ashore — planks, ropes, a single boot. But no bodies. No names.

Élodie refused to let the lantern go dark.

🌟 The Stranger at Dusk

On the seventh night after the storm, as the sun melted into the horizon, Élodie saw a flicker of light far out at sea — faint, uncertain, but real.

Her breath caught.

It wasn’t lightning. It wasn’t a star. It was a lantern, bobbing on the waves.

She ran down the cliff path, her skirts gathering dew and bramble. The villagers saw her and followed, their own lanterns swinging like fireflies.

By the time they reached the shore, the tide had carried in a small boat — battered, half‑broken, but alive. Inside lay a man, his hair silvered by salt, his hands clutching a wooden cross.

Her father.

🕯️ The Return

He was weak, but smiling. “Your light,” he whispered, “I saw it through the storm.”

The villagers lifted him gently, carrying him toward the chapel. Élodie walked beside him, lantern still burning.

That night, the church glowed brighter than it ever had. The priest said it was a miracle. The fishermen said it was luck. Élodie said nothing — she only watched the flame dance inside the glass, steady and golden.

Her father’s ship had been lost, but his faith had not.

🌠 The Legacy of Light

Years later, when Élodie herself became a mother, she told her children the story of the lantern — how it had guided a soul home through darkness.

She taught them that hope was not a thing to be shouted into the wind, but held quietly, like a flame cupped in trembling hands.

And when she grew old, she passed the lantern to her daughter, Marie, saying, “Keep it burning. Not for me, but for anyone who needs to find their way.”

Marie carried it to the same cliff, where the Acadian flag still waved against the twilight. The sea below was calm, the village lights steady.

She lifted the lantern high, and for a moment, the world seemed to pause — as if heaven itself leaned closer to listen.

🌅 Epilogue: The Star and the Sea

Long after Élodie’s time, travelers who visited Saint‑Pierre spoke of a light that could be seen from miles away — a single lantern glowing on the cliff at dusk.

Some said it was a trick of the sun. Others said it was the spirit of a girl who refused to let hope drown.

But the elders knew better.

They said the lantern was the heart of Acadia itself — a reminder that even when the world scatters its people like seeds across continents, the light of home still burns.

And if you stand on that cliff at twilight, you might hear the whisper of waves saying her name.

Élodie.
Keeper of the light.

Leave a Comment

Silent Sunday

Silent Sunday

Published by S.M. Ulbrich on 07/12/2026

Leave a Comment

When an Atheist Went Searching for the Crimes of Religion — and Found God Instead

When an Atheist Went Searching for the Crimes of Religion — and Found God Instead

Published by S.M. Ulbrich on 07/10/2026

www.godreports.com/2018/04/jewish-atheist-found-god-at-stanford/

At just eleven years old, Barak Lurie declared himself an atheist. Not out of rebellion, trauma, or philosophical sophistication — but out of what he now calls the childish simplicity of assuming that what cannot be touched must not exist.

“If you can’t see, hear, smell, or touch God,” he recalls, “it’s very easy for a child to say, ‘Well, I can’t see Him. Therefore, He doesn’t exist.’”

Raised in a non‑observant Jewish home in Connecticut, Lurie grew up in a culture where God was rarely mentioned except in jest. His parents believed in God but never imposed faith. School reinforced skepticism. And young Barak, bright and curious, leaned into it. He journaled arguments, devoured Ayn Rand, and sharpened his atheism into something almost evangelistic.

“I wanted to find arguments for my atheism,” he says. “I pushed it by talking to other people about it.”

—

The Stanford Thesis That Changed Everything

When Lurie arrived at Stanford University, he expected his atheism to deepen. After all, many students watch their faith erode under the scorn of professors. But something unexpected happened.

He chose an undergraduate honors thesis designed to prove the famous mantra:

Religion has caused the deaths of untold millions.

“I set out to prove it,” he says. “And within two weeks of deep research, I realized — I am really wrong on this.”

His research revealed that atheistic regimes — Stalin, Mao, Pol Pot — were responsible for ten times more killings than Christianity, totaling roughly 200 million deaths in just 80 years.

It was a discovery that embarrassed him. The evidence had been there all along. But the implications ran deeper than statistics.

If atheism produced such devastation, what did that say about the worldview he had embraced?

—

The Philosophical Cracks in Atheism

In his philosophy courses, Lurie encountered a problem atheism couldn’t solve: free will.

True atheists, he realized, must logically be determinists — the sum of their influences, with no moral responsibility. But Lurie knew he made choices. He knew he was accountable. And accountability implies a Creator who endowed humanity with agency.

“Once I accepted that I had free will,” he says, “I opened the door to the possibility that there was a Creator.”

From there, more questions followed:

• Where does beauty come from?

• Where does love come from?

• Why do humans create art, music, humor?

• Why do we seek meaning at all?

None of these could be explained by pure Darwinian evolution, he concluded. Biology alone cannot account for sunsets, symphonies, or sacrifice.

“Not one of our human values can be explained by evolution,” he says.

—

The Mathematical Impossibility of Random Life

Lurie also confronted the staggering improbability that the universe — ordered, beautiful, and finely tuned — could arise by chance.

Even famed atheist Stephen Hawking acknowledged the impossibility. Yet Hawking clung to atheism by proposing a multiverse, a theoretical escape hatch to avoid the conclusion of a Creator.

To Lurie, this was telling:

“When randomness fails, atheism must invent new universes.”

—

Dostoevsky, Atheism, and the Rediscovery of God

As Lurie continued his thesis, he focused on Fyodor Dostoevsky — a writer who wrestled deeply with atheism before returning to faith.

“You cannot truly appreciate God unless you have rejected God,” Dostoevsky wrote.

Lurie resonated with that. His own rejection had sharpened his eventual belief.

By the time he finished his thesis, he had rediscovered God — slowly, thoughtfully, and profoundly. He began reconnecting with his Jewish roots, attending synagogue, and rebuilding a worldview he had once dismantled.

“It was like learning a second language,” he says.

—

Atheism Kills — and the Book That Shook the Conversation

Lurie also confronted the staggering improbability that the universe — ordered, beautiful, and finely tuned — could arise by chance.

Even famed atheist Stephen Hawking acknowledged the impossibility. Yet Hawking clung to atheism by proposing a multiverse, a theoretical escape hatch to avoid the conclusion of a Creator.

To Lurie, this was telling:

“When randomness fails, atheism must invent new universes.”

—

A Jew Who Loves Christians

Lurie’s journey has also led him to appreciate Christianity deeply. He and fellow Jewish thinker Dennis Prager often discuss how closely Christian ethics align with Jewish values.

“I would love for this whole world to become Christian,” he says. “We need people who subscribe to the Ten Commandments.”

He now serves on boards including PragerU, Stand With Us, and the Jewish National Fund, advocating for Western values and religious heritage.

—

From Atheist Child to Defender of Faith

Today, Barak Lurie is a husband, father of three, attorney, author, radio host, and outspoken defender of faith. His story is a reminder that sometimes the search for truth leads us exactly where we least expect.

He set out to prove religion was deadly.

Instead, he discovered God.

—

3 Comments

Writing Through the Fog

Writing Through the Fog

Published by S.M. Ulbrich on 07/09/2026

A gentle reflection for the weary, creative heart

Some days, creativity arrives like a sunrise — warm, bright, eager to spill across the page. And some days… it doesn’t. Some days feel foggy, heavy, slow. The mind moves like it’s wading through water, and even simple tasks feel like lifting stones.

I used to think foggy days meant failure. That if I couldn’t write with clarity, I shouldn’t write at all. But over time — through journals, prayer, quiet nights in Hawkins, and the soft glow of a candle on my bedside table — I’ve learned something gentler:

Fog doesn’t mean the light is gone. It only means the light is diffused.

On fog-days, creativity doesn’t disappear. It whispers.

It shows up in smaller ways:
a sentence that feels true,
a memory that rises unannounced,
a color you suddenly notice,
a prayer that steadies your breath.

These moments matter. They are seeds. And seeds don’t need bright sun to grow — they need presence, patience, and a little faith.

I’ve learned to write differently on fog-days. Not with pressure, but with softness. I let myself write in fragments, in half-thoughts, in gentle notes that may become something later. I let myself rest when I need to. I let myself trust that creativity is still alive, even when it feels quiet.

This is how the Fog-Day & Best-Day Wellness Journal was born — from the realization that life isn’t all clarity or all chaos. It’s both. And both deserve space.

If you’re reading this and you’ve been in a fog — creatively, emotionally, spiritually — I hope you hear this:

You are simply moving through a softer season, and there is beauty here too.

And when the best-days come — because they always do — you’ll have a trail of small, faithful notes that show you just how strong you were in the quiet.

You are not behind.
You are not failing.
You are not forgotten.

Write one sentence.
Light one candle.
Take one breath.
Let the fog be a place where God meets you gently.

Keep writing, even through the fog.
Your light is still here.
It’s just wrapped in softness today.

1 Comment

Defending Religious Liberty: Why ‘Religious Tests’ for Public Office Threaten Us All

Defending Religious Liberty: Why ‘Religious Tests’ for Public Office Threaten Us All

Published by S.M. Ulbrich on 07/07/2026

Recent discussions surrounding political figures and their views on which denominations are ‘truly Christian’ have brought a critical issue to the forefront of American public life: the preservation of religious freedom for everyone, not just for one’s own group.

The Core Issue: Shifting from Theology to Government Control

It is common for different religious groups to debate doctrine and theology. However, a dangerous line is crossed when those theological disagreements move from the pulpit to the halls of government. Reports involving figures like pastor Doug Wilson, who has expressed a desire for a ‘Christian Republic’ that would exclude Latter-day Saints (and others who do not meet his definition of orthodoxy) from holding public office, serve as a warning. This is not just a theological dispute—it is a challenge to the constitutional principles of our nation.

Why Article VI Matters

Regardless of our individual faith, all Americans should be concerned about the concept of a ‘religious test.’ The U.S. Constitution’s Article VI explicitly states that no religious test shall ever be required as a qualification for any office or public trust. This protection is essential because:

• It prevents the state from defining legitimacy: Once the government has the power to decide which denominations are ‘real’ Christians or which faiths are ‘legitimate,’ it gains the power to dictate who belongs in public life.

• It protects agency: True freedom requires that individuals be free to choose their own faith without government-imposed barriers to their participation in society.

• It protects all minorities: A precedent that allows one group to exclude another based on theology today can just as easily be used to exclude other religious or non-religious groups tomorrow.

Fairness for All

Defending religious freedom does not mean believers should retreat from public life or stop advocating for moral foundations. It means advocating for an environment where:

Religious liberty is universal: As President Dallin H. Oaks has taught, we should not seek total dominance for our own position, but fairness for all.
Conscience remains free: Civil government exists to restrain crime and protect rights, but it must never attempt to control the conscience of its citizens.
Civic participation is not conditional: An individual’s right to vote or hold office should never be viewed as a temporary ‘political convenience’ or a conditional privilege granted by those in power.

Conclusion

We can value America’s Christian foundations and the moral inheritance of our founding documents without resorting to theocracy. The best way to preserve our own liberty is to vigorously defend the same rights for those whose theology we might disagree with. By choosing to uphold the constitutional ban on religious tests, we protect the sacred principle of agency and ensure that America remains a land of freedom for all.

Leave a Comment

🛡️ Genealogy AI Safety Checklist

🛡️ Genealogy AI Safety Checklist

Published by S.M. Ulbrich on 07/06/2026

A calm, practical guide for using AI without letting it derail your research.

🔍 1. Keep AI in the “Safe Zone”

Use AI only for tasks that don’t affect the accuracy of your tree.

Transcriptions — word‑for‑word text from handwritten or printed records
Translations — turning foreign-language text into English
Summaries — pulling out names, dates, and places
Brainstorming — ideas, search strategies, or questions to ask

If a task requires interpretation, conclusions, or connecting people, keep it human.

⚠️ 2. Never Accept AI’s Genealogy “Facts”

AI can sound confident while being completely wrong.

Reject any AI output that includes:

Unverified relationships
Invented dates or events
Nonexistent record collections
Sources you cannot locate

If you can’t find the record yourself, it doesn’t exist.

📚 3. Verify Everything Against Primary Sources

Your safest workflow:

Compare AI transcriptions to the original image
Confirm translations with dictionaries or human help
Cross-check names, dates, and places manually
Use archives like FamilySearch, Ancestry, Drouin, or civil registers

AI can assist your eyes — but not your conclusions.

🧭 4. Watch for Red Flags

Discard AI output immediately if you see:

A perfect, tidy narrative
A timeline that doesn’t add up
A record set you can’t locate
A “source” that leads nowhere
A suggestion that contradicts known history
A claim that feels too convenient

Your intuition is a research tool. Trust it.

🧪 5. Test Before Trusting

When AI gives you information:

Ask it to show the exact text
Ask where the record is located
Ask for the archive, collection, and image number

If it cannot provide specifics, the information is unsafe.

🧱 6. Keep Your Tree Protected

Your genealogy tree is fragile. Guard it by:

Adding only verified facts
Keeping AI-generated notes separate
Labeling AI suggestions as “unverified”
Avoiding merges or connections based on AI output
Saving original documents first, interpretations second

Your tree should never depend on AI.

🧘 7. Maintain a Skeptical Mindset

AI hallucinations happen even when you tell it not to.

Your mantra:

“AI is a tool, not a genealogist.”

Use it for language barriers, not lineage building.

🌿 8. Use AI for Creative Extras Only

Safe creative uses:

Featured images
Genealogy-themed graphics
Blog post drafts
Checklists and worksheets

These enhance your work without touching your research accuracy.

⭐ Final Rule

If AI gives you a detail you cannot verify in a real archive, throw it out.

Your ancestors deserve truth, not guesses.

P.S. Here’s a cheat sheet, in case you’d like to download it.

Leave a Comment

Genealogy AI Safety Checklist

Genealogy AI Safety Checklist

Published by S.M. Ulbrich on 07/06/2026

A calm, practical guide for using AI without letting it derail your research.

🔍 1. Keep AI in the “Safe Zone”

Use AI only for tasks that don’t affect the accuracy of your tree.

Transcriptions — word‑for‑word text from handwritten or printed records
Translations — turning foreign-language text into English
Summaries — pulling out names, dates, and places
Brainstorming — ideas, search strategies, or questions to ask

If a task requires interpretation, conclusions, or connecting people, keep it human.

⚠️ 2. Never Accept AI’s Genealogy “Facts”

AI can sound confident while being completely wrong.

Reject any AI output that includes:

Unverified relationships
Invented dates or events
Nonexistent record collections
Sources you cannot locate

If you can’t find the record yourself, it doesn’t exist.

📚 3. Verify Everything Against Primary Sources

Your safest workflow:

Compare AI transcriptions to the original image
Confirm translations with dictionaries or human help
Cross-check names, dates, and places manually
Use archives like FamilySearch, Ancestry, Drouin, or civil registers

AI can assist your eyes — but not your conclusions.

🧭 4. Watch for Red Flags

Discard AI output immediately if you see:

A perfect, tidy narrative
A timeline that doesn’t add up
A record set you can’t locate
A “source” that leads nowhere
A suggestion that contradicts known history
A claim that feels too convenient

Your intuition is a research tool. Trust it.

🧪 5. Test Before Trusting

When AI gives you information:

Ask it to show the exact text
Ask where the record is located
Ask for the archive, collection, and image number

If it cannot provide specifics, the information is unsafe.

🧱 6. Keep Your Tree Protected

Your genealogy tree is fragile. Guard it by:

Adding only verified facts
Keeping AI-generated notes separate
Labeling AI suggestions as “unverified”
Avoiding merges or connections based on AI output
Saving original documents first, interpretations second

Your tree should never depend on AI.

🧘 7. Maintain a Skeptical Mindset

AI hallucinations happen even when you tell it not to.

Your mantra:

“AI is a tool, not a genealogist.”

Use it for language barriers, not lineage building.

🌿 8. Use AI for Creative Extras Only

Safe creative uses:

Featured images
Genealogy-themed graphics
Blog post drafts
Checklists and worksheets

These enhance your work without touching your research accuracy.

⭐ Final Rule

If AI gives you a detail you cannot verify in a real archive, throw it out.

Your ancestors deserve truth, not guesses.

Leave a Comment

250!

250!

Published by S.M. Ulbrich on 07/04/2026

Leave a Comment

The Forge of Broken Things.part 2

The Forge of Broken Things.part 2

Published by S.M. Ulbrich on 07/03/2026

NOTE: if you read the previous story about this, and are confused about seeing it again, please check the last part. It will explain why you’re seeing this again.

This story weaves a rich tapestry that connects the epic, historical resilience of ancestors directly, into a modern story of survival and extraordinary love.

Capturing the blacksmith roots, the grief of Acadians, and the mending of self and foster children, this story highlights the concept of an unbroken line of patriots and survivors.

The protagonist, (celebrating 50 years of marriage) reflects on her life of fostering over 200 children, adopting 3, and giving birth to 5. It explores her slow recovery from severe childhood trauma (parents divorced by age 4, a father with schizophrenia, a mother developmentally delayed to age 13, and enduring childhood physical and sexual abuse from alcohol addiction and mental illness). It details the hardships she and her husband overcame, including losing babies, and celebrates their clean, enduring romance.

Incorporating a cohesive parallel narrative arc, the story interweaves the historical trials of her ancestors (the Acadian expulsion, the Irish potato famine) with her own personal trials (childhood trauma, fostering 200 children), showing that the “patriot DNA” of survival was passed down to her, and through her children.

The Paternal Grandmother’s side: Direct descent from the legendary Acadian leader Joseph ‘Beausoleil’ Broussard, embodying the patriot spirit and the tragedy/triumph of the Acadian expulsion.

Beausoleil led the armed resistance against the British during the 18th-century Acadian Deportation and subsequently guided displaced exiles to safety in Louisiana. His heroic status rests on several major historical contributions:

Armed Resistance: Before and during the 1755 British expulsion Beausoleil led guerrilla militias to defend Acadian communities, homes, and churches against British forces.
Symbol of Hope: He earned his nickname, “Beautiful Sun” (or light of the resistance), from his fellow Acadians because he provided hope and protection during a period of severe persecution and ethnic cleansing.
Resettlement in Louisiana: After enduring imprisonment and exile, Beausoleil successfully led a group of nearly 200 Acadian refugees out of Halifax to the Gulf Coast in 1765.

He is credited with establishing the first major settlement of Acadians in southern Louisiana, in Loreauville, in the Broussard area of Lafayette, LA. He was buried on October 20, 1765, at the age of 62-63, laying the foundation for modern Cajun culture.

The Maternal Grandfather’s side: A deeply rooted line where the protagonist is related to him 17 different ways, filled with early American patriots. He was born in Loreauville, and died in the same parish.

The Maternal Great-Grandparents (The Peppers, the ONLY non-Acadian line on this protagonist’s direct genealogy): Newlyweds fleeing Ireland immediately after the Potato Famine, arriving in New Orleans to build a life from scratch in nearby Jeanerette, as blacksmiths. This writer’s mother recalls hearing the uniquely “sing-song” Irish accent and tones of her great-grandparents.

Rene LeBlane, the Notary Public mentioned in official records of the events occurring during that time, is also a progenitor. According to the records, he “was seized, confined, and brought away among the rest of the people, and his family, consisting of twenty children, and about one hundred and fifty grandchildren, were scattered in different colonies, so that he was put on shore at New York, with only his wife and two youngest children, in an infirm state of health, from whence he joined three more of his children at Philadelphia, where he died without any more notice being taken of him than any of us, notwithstanding his many years’ labor and deep sufferings for Your Majesty’s service.”

The themes of ancestral survival, blacksmithing / refining fire, and patriotism mirror the protagonist’s fight to survive her childhood and become a sanctuary for over 200 forgotten, abused, and medically fragile children.

To see the collection of artwork I submitted for this contest, please click this link:

https://creator.nightcafe.studio/g/select/post/ajJmPLg60BMEudjYwgSG

A collection of AI-Generated Artworks curated by Shirley Ulbrich.

Below are the contest rules, according to Nightcafe.

Getting close!

I’ve got 9 more days to wait and hopefully, gather a couple more votes for this “part 2”.

As you can see, I’ve already successfully qualified for the next round with “part 1”, but, it’s not as complete as my 2nd try, “part 2”. I’d prefer to just remove that first one, and only leave “part 2” as my only submission. However, “part 2” is not qualified yet, and until it is – it needs just 2 more – “part 1” has to stay there.

Oh, how I’d love to win this contest! I’m sure y’all know what I’ve already spent the money on, lol. (In case you are new here, and don’t know, I’d get my books published!) Woohoo!

It would be quite a relief to finally get that all done.

Leave a Comment

Using AI in Genealogy: A Helpful Tool… with Serious Limits

Using AI in Genealogy: A Helpful Tool… with Serious Limits

Published by S.M. Ulbrich on 07/02/2026

Genealogy is a discipline built on accuracy. One wrong assumption can unravel years of careful work. With AI becoming more common in research spaces, I wanted to see what it could realistically offer genealogists — especially those working with foreign‑language records.

What I discovered is that AI can be both a helpful assistant and a source of major problems.

Where AI Can Help

AI shines in a few very specific areas:

Transcription help — It can produce word‑for‑word transcriptions of handwritten or printed text, even in languages you don’t read.
Translation assistance — It can turn those transcriptions into English so you can understand the basics.
Document summaries — It can pull out names, dates, places, and relationships for quick review.

These tasks are mechanical, not interpretive — and that’s exactly why AI performs them reasonably well. For language barriers, this can be a huge help.

Where AI Goes Wrong

Once AI moves beyond transcription and translation, the risks increase dramatically.

False connections — AI may confidently link people who are not related at all.
Invented details — It may create marriages, death dates, or events that don’t exist in any record.
Nonexistent sources — It can fabricate entire record sets, archives, volumes, or page numbers.
No real sourcing — AI often pulls from user‑submitted trees or unverified data without telling you.

Even when instructed not to invent information, AI may still hallucinate — and sometimes defend those errors instead of correcting them.

These aren’t small mistakes. They can waste hours of research time and send you down dead ends.

Conclusion

After testing AI in multiple ways, here are the guidelines I now follow:

Use AI only for safe tasks
Transcriptions, translations, summaries, brainstorming — yes. Facts, relationships, conclusions — no.
Verify everything manually
Always return to primary sources: parish registers, civil records, notarial documents, censuses, and original scans.
Reject suspicious details
If a record seems too tidy, lacks a source, or cannot be located in a real archive, discard it immediately.
Stay skeptical
AI will hallucinate even when told not to. Double‑check everything.

Bottom Line

AI can be a helpful companion for transcription, translation, and image creation, especially when working with foreign‑language records. But as a research partner, it is unreliable. It can produce convincing but completely fabricated information — wrong connections, invented events, and imaginary record collections.

Real progress still comes from careful, manual verification.

Treat AI as a curious but unreliable assistant. Use it for language barriers, not conclusions.

My Rating: 3 out of 10 for genealogy research reliability.

P.S. Yes, yes, I know this is my “author” blog, but I’ll let you in on a little secret: I’m prepping to write another book! Hmm, I can tell, some of y’all have already picked up the vibes! Smart darlin’s, my readers.

As I was revising my contest entry documentation, I realized I was actually writing a basic outline for my next book! Oh, I feel so blessed!

Anyway, as you know, the storyline may evolve into something else, but I suspect He’s already given me my next assignment. Praying I can finish it.

Leave a Comment

The Forge of Broken Things

The Forge of Broken Things

Published by S.M. Ulbrich on 06/29/2026

PLEASE NOTE: I’ve entered a contest in Nightcafe and I’m hoping to win. The prize is money, which I intend to use it to publish my many manuscripts. Please consider going to the site and voting for me. I cannot tell you how much I’d appreciate it.

My health is still hanging in at stage 4 CKD, thank goodness! I’ve been blessed so many times.

Below is a description of my entry to the contest:

This story weaves a rich tapestry that connects the epic, historical resilience of ancestors directly, into a modern story of survival and extraordinary love.

Capturing the blacksmith roots, the grief of Acadians, and the mending of self and foster children, this story highlights the concept of an unbroken line of patriots and survivors.

The protagonist (celebrating 50 years of marriage) reflects on her life of fostering over 200 children, adopting 3, and giving birth to 5. It explores her slow recovery from severe childhood trauma (parents divorced by age 4, a father with schizophrenia, a mother developmentally delayed to age 13, and enduring childhood physical and sexual abuse). It details the hardships she and her husband overcame, including losing babies, and celebrates their clean, enduring romance.

Incorporating a cohesive parallel narrative arc, the story interweaves the historical trials of my ancestors (the Acadian expulsion, the Irish potato famine) with my own personal trials (childhood trauma, fostering 200 children), showing that the “patriot DNA” of survival was passed down to me, through my children.

The Paternal Grandmother’s side: Direct descent from the legendary Acadian leader Joseph ‘Beausoleil’ Broussard, embodying the patriot spirit and the tragedy/triumph of the Acadian expulsion.

The Maternal Grandfather’s side: A deeply rooted line where the protagonist is related to him 17 different ways, filled with early American patriots.

The Maternal Great-Grandparents (The Peppers): Newlyweds fleeing Ireland immediately after the Potato Famine, arriving in New Orleans to build a life from scratch as blacksmiths.

The themes of ancestral survival, blacksmithing/refining fire, and patriotism mirror the protagonist’s fight to survive her childhood and become a sanctuary for 200 forgotten children.

https://creator.nightcafe.studio/g/select/post/tzEif3szTbg2FyW0c71X

Submit a Body of Work that tells a story from start to finish. Be reviewed by expert judges, and compete for a $1,000 grant and a feature in Prompt Magazine.

I’m just finishing up the outline for this yet-to-be-written book, which will be a historical novel/memoir.

Thanks so much!

Leave a Comment

About the Arnault Family

About the Arnault Family

Published by S.M. Ulbrich on 06/14/2026

Arnault / St. Arnault (& var.) | Surname Anchor Post

https://acanadianfamily.wordpress.com/2023/10/12/arnault-st-arnault-var-surname-anchor-post/

Leave a Comment

My Hope and Dream

My Hope and Dream

Published by S.M. Ulbrich on 05/15/2026

I’ve been experimenting with Nightcafe and am so happy at the way this has turned out.

My prayer is that, when the time comes, I will be greeted by my own children whom I have lost, foster children who passed away in my home, and all the multitudes of ancestors I’ve done the work for.

The tragic Acadians lost in the diaspora called The Great Dispersal that drove many to Louisiana.

To the Ancestors who came to the New World from France and dug trenches called dykes in Nova Scotia. All of these contributed to my bloodline, on both sides of my parents.

One, a veritable hero, Beausoleil Broussard, my direct ancestor that I happen to share with Beyoncé.

Another ancestor, unnamed due to threat of shaming, an ancestor who was the unknowing carrier of the deaf blind and balance scourge of many Cajuns, Usher Syndrome. Another, Tay Sachs syndrome, shared by tight-knit Jewish communities.

To my Louisiana Ancestors, who braved yellow fever, great storms and hurricanes, and sweltering heat. Worst of all, the mosquitoes who ravaged bodies with yellow fever. Even the awful monster, leprosy, inhabited so many bodies, clinics still exist in Louisiana. Yet, they survived. With their celebrations at Mardi Gras, and family crawfish boils, along with cotton picking parties and Saturday night dance halls. My childhood was filled with such great memories! In fact, I was nearly born on my grandfather’s shrimp boat on New Year’s Eve night. The shrimp were running so good, nobody except Mama was in a hurry to get off that boat! I just barely made it to the hospital at Lafayette General (called Charity Hospital at the time. The building’s still there.)

To my one line of Irishmen, the Pepper’s, who came right after the great potato starvation time, who first witnessed persecution, and then, founded a good life of blacksmithing. (My grandmother’s grandmother wasn’t allowed to speak in her native tongue, even at home, but my mother recalls her beautiful “sing-song” accent in her Cajun speak.)

Leave a Comment

“Sleepy Tales” Almost Ready!

“Sleepy Tales” Almost Ready!

Published by S.M. Ulbrich on 04/18/2026

My bedtime storybook, “Sleepy Tales” is very nearly done! I’ve just got one more illustration to complete, and then, it’ll be ready for final review. I’m so excited! It’s a very cute book, I must say.

Stay tuned! More details coming.

Leave a Comment

Just Recalling That Blessed Thursday Long Ago…

Just Recalling That Blessed Thursday Long Ago…

Published by S.M. Ulbrich on 04/03/2026

I just received a message that was so touching, reminding us all of that Sacred, Blessed Thursday So very long ago, when the Lord spoke to His disciples, but they didn’t understand.

Not until they witnessed the Resurrection of Jesus Chridt, our Lord, Savior, and Master of us all. The true sacrifice wasn’t only on the cross.

It happened in the Garden of Gethsemane, when He took upon Himself the total of the sums of the sins of the world.

Think of it! He bore our sins – every one of us! From the beggar to the thief, from the robber to the murderer; from the sinful to the ones who try. He experienced every single thing a human can experience.

Why? So He can know how to succor us. So He’d understand how the Cancer patient felt, how physical pain of every kind felt; how emotional pain felt; how spiritual pain felt; any type of pain a human can experience. He felt it.

He knew that He had to know these things in order for us to trust Him, to believe Him, when He said, “I know. I can take it away from you. Follow Me.”

Oh, the love He has for us! We are truly His brothers and sisters. He is our Elder brother, the firstborn of the Father.

I believe in my heart that He had a relationship with each and every one of us. Before we were born, we knew Him intimately as our Elder brother.

The fact that He bore your sins, my sins, and everyone who ever took a breath here’s sins, that shows the great love He has for us.

If you don’t know that with all your being, please ask Him. He will communicate this fact to you in the way you’ll know it.

Deeply personal.

One on one.

No barriers.

He reaches out to us individually in so many ways. All we have to do is, “Be still and know that I am.”

In Jesus’ Name, Amen

Leave a Comment

Just a Reminder…

Just a Reminder…

Published by S.M. Ulbrich on 04/02/2026

I’ve had this little book out on Amazon for a while now. Hope you’ve all had a chance to check it out. It’s really sweet; there’s a double story about the dangers that these beautiful ocean turtles experience – many lose their limbs to nets, fishermen’s nets that get caught up in their flippers.

Anyway, I just wanted to share my new video for book # 2 of Discovering Misty.

Please check it out! There’s some great reviews in Goodreads too.

Thanks all!

https://youtube.com/shorts/l5y01saAX8w?si=wiqfFpAOFkES6QY1

mibextid

https://a.co/d/0cAAqxcX

Leave a Comment

Amazon Published My Adult Coloring Book Today!

Amazon Published My Adult Coloring Book Today!

Published by S.M. Ulbrich on 03/26/2026

Woohoo! My new book is out! It’s a Luxury Adult Coloring Book. Check it out!

Scientists have discovered that using coloring books actually helps to calm and help the brain focus better.

I wrote about it last night in my blog and now it’s available for purchase. They should have more pictures up in a few days. There’s more than 170 pages to color!

https://a.co/d/062sS8aX

Check it out!

3 Comments

Tag: author

The Conscious Mind: Your Everyday Companion

The Subconscious Mind: The Hidden Driver

The Good News: Your Subconscious Can Change

The Power of Repetition and Affirmations

Why Visualization Works

Be Intentional About What You Consume

Habits Are Messages to Your Subconscious

Become the Gardener of Your Mind

Final Thoughts

Share this: https://linktr.ee/SMUlbrich

Like this:

🌿 Prologue — The Package

🌿 Chapter One — A City on Edge

🌿 Chapter Two — The Cost of Conscience

🌿 Chapter Three — The Night of the Wounded Man

🌿 Chapter Four — The Quiet Rebel

🌿 Epilogue — Forrest

🌿 Closing Blessing

Share this: https://linktr.ee/SMUlbrich

Like this:

Blog Post: Be Like Dolly

Share this: https://linktr.ee/SMUlbrich

Like this:

August 19, 2025

Share this: https://linktr.ee/SMUlbrich

Like this:

My love,

🌿 The Early Years — Loss, Courage, and Holding On

💍 The Day We Chose Forever

🏡 Becoming a Family

✨ Sacred Places, Sacred Promises

🌱 The Middle Years — Work, Service, and Hard Lessons

🌾 The Later Years — Dreams, Realizations, and Grace

💛 What I Celebrate Today

✨ Gentle Closing Blessing for the Anniversary Letter

Share this: https://linktr.ee/SMUlbrich

Like this:

Share this: https://linktr.ee/SMUlbrich

Like this:

Chapter One: The Baggie Incident

Chapter Two: Text Message Sabotage

Chapter Three: The Rooftop

Chapter Four: The Party That Wasn’t

Chapter Five: The Confession

Chapter Six: The Saving

Chapter Seven: The Goodbye

Epilogue

Share this: https://linktr.ee/SMUlbrich

Like this:

Understanding Whether Worrying Is Actually Useful

Try Setting Aside Dedicated “Worry Time”

Catch Yourself in the Act of Worrying

Be Patient With Yourself

Share this: https://linktr.ee/SMUlbrich

Like this:

The Lantern of Beausoleil

🌾 The Village Below

🌊 The Memory of Departure

🌟 The Stranger at Dusk

🕯️ The Return

🌠 The Legacy of Light

🌅 Epilogue: The Star and the Sea

Share this: https://linktr.ee/SMUlbrich

Like this:

Share this: https://linktr.ee/SMUlbrich

Like this:

The Stanford Thesis That Changed Everything

The Philosophical Cracks in Atheism

The Mathematical Impossibility of Random Life

Dostoevsky, Atheism, and the Rediscovery of God

Atheism Kills — and the Book That Shook the Conversation

A Jew Who Loves Christians

From Atheist Child to Defender of Faith

Share this: https://linktr.ee/SMUlbrich

Like this:

Share this: https://linktr.ee/SMUlbrich

Like this:

The Core Issue: Shifting from Theology to Government Control

Why Article VI Matters