Inner Strength

J.R.R. Tolkien once said, "It is not the strength of the body that counts, but the strength of the spirit."

Lately I've been having more and more self-esteem issues, and honestly, I'm getting tired of dealing with myself. I know that my body has limitations and weaknesses, but I just can't seem to accept myself as I should.

I have definitely let my week center around negative thoughts. I feel like an outcast among my friends; I just want to be left alone.

Have you ever just wished that you could find a hiding place where no one could find you? It wouldn't be anything fancy, just a small, quiet place to be at peace with yourself and be free from the judgments of others.

I know that these feelings of depression won't last forever, but it's always so easy to only see the negative embers in the eternal fires of our lives.

I know that my life is not my own, but the Lord's. I am constantly be polished, molded and mended. Right now I am broken, but one day I will be whole.

Despite how many times I may stray on my journey to perfection, fear for my life, or question God, I know that I have the strength within myself to carry on.


For a long time I thought that I was committing a sin by having an eating disorder. I felt like I could never completely repent or become who God wanted me to be.

A few months ago I was so overwhelmed by guilt and worry that I decided to talk to my bishop about what was going on in my life. The first thing he told me was that I was forgiven and that my Father in Heaven loved me very much.

To this day I don't think that this eating disorder was a sin, but rather a trial filled with guilt. However, I did feel like a sinner before I finally started to heal, especially when I would secretly binge or purge.

I believe that unseen forces were constantly pushing upon me for both good and evil.

I know that the atonement is real. I know that the Savior was supporting me as I carried my cross up my own Calvary.

A Grateful Heart

As I was walking from class today a thought crossed my mind; someone at this moment could be wishing to have my life in order to escape theirs. What right do I have to complain about a healthy, functional body when there are some who cannot walk or move. What right do I have to complain about seeing myself in the mirror when there are those who cannot see. Who am I to put my trials above those of an abused or orphaned child? 

Much like Christ we all have our crosses to bear. No individual goes throughout life without becoming chipped or broken a few times...some more than others. 

During the beginning of my disorder, I was able to serve as a mentor in a Special Needs Mutual group. This experience helped me look outside of myself and my trials. My friend, Jenae, taught me that happiness is essential to endurance and that love should always be given freely. No trial is too large and no burden is too heavy. Despite her physical situation, she was always concerned about those around her. She loved to smiling, chocolate and country music. She lived her life and made sure that everyone else enjoyed theirs. Surely she must have seen her fair share of sadness in life, but she didn't let it dictate her existence. I can't begin to say how much her hugs and smiles held me together during that time. Her strength strengthened me. 

I owe my outlook on life to my mother. 

From when I was diagnosed with Diabetes, didn't make the cut for my high school soccer team, and when I felt like I didn't have a friend in the world, she was always there. Although annoying at times, she was always quick to remind me that "life could be worse". As I've grown up, I now appreciate her words and understand them; after all, she hasn't lived a perfect life either.

Life really isn't what we make it, but what we make of it.