A Legacy of Resiliency

One of my favorite facts to share about my personal life is that I come from a family of 12 children. I’m the 10th one, and I couldn’t be prouder of this. We were raised in a modest home on an acre of land in Twin Falls, Idaho. There are so many fun stories from my upbringing in such a full and happy household, but what I want to share today is the legacy of resiliency imparted by my mother.

A mother, in the simplest terms, provides the nourishment and guidance a child needs to survive on their own. My mother devoted her life to raising responsible children, and naturally, that is no easy feat. It is easy to look at her now and place her on a pedestal, but she is human and not perfect. She has faced struggles and difficulties that stretched her beyond her capacity—challenges that no mother would want to experience, such as losing my brother Steven, and the ongoing pain of watching her children struggle and suffer. Today, she grapples with the trials of aging, and I continue to witness her lean into the struggle with grace.

There was a period in my mother’s younger life when she was down for a long time. Finding the motivation and energy to carry on with so many children must have been incredibly exhausting and defeating. As I raise my own children, I can relate to that struggle. How on earth can one show up and do their best when they are simply so tired? There are endless dishes to wash, piles of laundry to fold, floors to sweep, and little tears to dry. Dreams, hobbies, and passions often get put on hold or set aside. Someone is always coming first. In multiple conversations with my mother, a phrase has repeatedly come from her lips: “It came to pass.” This recurring phrase, borrowed from the scriptures, is something my mother has often referenced for the will to hold on. Knowing that you won’t be stuck in a situation or emotion is powerful. It reflects a desperate and ever-present hold on the faith that life is always changing and that we, too, can adapt and grow strong enough to weather the storms that come. It is this resilience that has carried my mother through the loss of a child.

As I entered a very defining point in my life, I had a mother who taught me powerful lessons in resilience. My challenges were often of a social and educational nature caused by my undiagnosed ADHD. It was the inspired choice of my mother to be the support I needed to implement coping strategies for my energetic, creative, and scattered brain and body. I was never viewed as less capable because of my struggles. Things were harder and took me longer. The bar was set high, and my mother was there by my side, guiding me back to my studies, paragraph by paragraph, one step at a time. From my educational experiences, I was able to learn one simple yet powerful truth: just because something is hard and takes longer than most, doesn’t mean that I can’t do it. I held onto this belief as I entered a university and had to learn on my own. It did take a lot more work, and I am very proud of my Bachelor’s Degree.

Being a child with so much energy often strained my friendships. My difficulty in focusing made it hard for me to listen and build lasting relationships. The challenges of being a teenager didn’t help either. I was very insecure, and my social blunders were often more prominent and open to ridicule and teasing. It was a daily occurrence for me to come home from school in tears. My mother taught me to keep a journal, and it is in this journal that I hear her voice. I learned the importance of zooming out from myself and looking at others through a lens of understanding—how to forgive them and forgive myself, and how to serve. Her coaching is evident in my journal as I dissected my feelings and situations in each challenge I faced. Using a journal as a tool to work through my insecurities and mistakes is still a practice I utilize today, as is the reminder to look outside myself. There is no title that embodies looking beyond oneself better than that of a mother.

There was a phrase my mother often said in our house (it was even put into cross-stitch): “Hard is good.” It is my mother’s mantra and how she approached piano lessons, yard work, school, and any other challenge we wished we could avoid. This phrase carries a lifetime of experience in leaning into difficult things. She learned from personal experience that miracles happen when you lean into the struggle and that help always comes to make up for the difference if we just try. How else could she raise a family of 12? I hear her voice as I implement this mantra into my adult life and have learned that indeed, hard is good. It is what makes life impactful and builds our character, allowing us to understand ourselves and recognize the power that comes from within and from on high.

This is my most recent picture with my mother after we made it up a mountain trail to this beautiful waterfall behind us. It seems fitting to say that she still lives up to her mantra: “Hard is good.”