Good morning, friends! Happy Monday.

Is your Monday feeling happy so far? Maybe it’s far more real with a combination of all the feels by 11am. That’s where I’m at. I’ve pretty much hit the whole range already and I haven’t even stopped for lunch. Ha! I’m learning that “real” is not only okay, it’s good. In the middle of the “real” I grow, I discover things about myself and others, I learn to reach up in faith and savor with gratitude those things that delight me. I cry or squirm or rejoice or feel bored. All of it is part of the earth-life experience.

I found a BYU devotional very inspiring the other day. I have been learning to feel all my feelings, not just the fun and happy ones, and not let my gut take the load. But I loved how this encouraged me to experiment with how smiling could change my perspective and lighten my load- even just a little. Something that might bring a little sunshine on your Monday!

Love,

Laur

SIX THINGS I BELIEVE, By Gus Hart

Some years ago I served as the bishop in my ward (The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints). It was so rewarding but also very challenging. I couldn’t stop worrying. I wondered why this special calling felt like such a burden at times, even though I constantly saw small miracles and I knew, at least intellectually, that the Lord was in charge. Still, emotionally, I couldn’t leave all the worry to Him. I didn’t know how to let go of it.

I fasted several times, asking for the Lord to take the worry away. In time He helped me understand that the worry was evidence that I loved the people I served and that as long as I cared for them, the worry would not go away completely. Knowing this helped me live with the worry and carry the burden.

One cold winter Sunday morning I was on my way to the church. It was pitch-black. The worry and the burden and the perceived unfairness of being up so early on a cold, dark Sunday morning felt particularly heavy. I had been fasting for help. And then an answer came. Simple. My Heavenly Father said just this: “Smile!” And I did. Instantly I felt better. I felt lighter. I saw serving my ward family as a privilege. Instead of focusing on the dark, cold morning, I could focus on the bright, happy faces of those who were serving with me. Instead of thinking about the struggles people faced, I could focus on their efforts, their examples, their faith, and their progress.

Now, I realize that simply smiling may not be a universal solution. I realize many people struggle with mental and emotional challenges that require professional help. But this was an answer after I had fasted and prayed specifically about my circumstance, and I share it, hoping it might help somehow. A smile can change my outlook.

Some days I feel like the imposter scientist. But when I smile, I believe that my best work is still ahead of me, and I am not ashamed of the things I don’t know yet or even the things that I knew and then forgot.

Some days I feel my faith is weak. But when I smile, I know the opposite of faith is not doubt—the opposite of faith is certainty—and I am grateful for what I do believe.

Some days I wish I would have been a better father when I was raising my kids. But when I smile, I realize they still listen to me. And I see them as Heavenly Father sees them and believe they will continue to grow and amaze me. I see them, as my patriarchal blessing says, as “jewels in my household” and see my family as my “greatest joy.”

Some days I feel the loss—the deep loss—of three sisters taken by cystic fibrosis before they had a chance to grow up. I feel so sorry for my parents. But when I smile, I look forward to knowing my sisters again—and knowing them better. And I revel in the nine crazy, interesting, and life-enriching siblings I am still with.

Some days I replay videos in my head of dumb things I did or unkind things I said or did, and I wonder, “How could anyone listen to me give a talk like this and not think, ‘Gus is such a hypocrite’?” But when I smile, my own weakness is the lens I need to see others clearly—to see them and love them as people like me who are a mix of good and bad traits, still trying to become the people they want to be but not quite there yet.

Some days I feel discouraged that my body is aging. I still want to improve my handball game and win the Utah state handball championship. I want to set new personal record times on my mountain-bike rides. I want to be shredded. But when I smile, I am grateful I can play handball, I can ride my mountain bike, I can use my hands to type, and I can see to read.

When I smile, I am grateful I can taste my wife’s amazing cooking and smell and see the beautiful flowers she grows in her enormous garden. I am grateful I am healthy enough to do anything my kids and grandkids do.