My patriarchal blessing is filled with the admonition to be courageous. This has always puzzled me. Why would a suburban housewife in Salt Lake City need courage? The answer elluded me until I read this quote by Mary Anne Radmacher. Now I understand.
On those days that my head hits the pillow swimming with regrets (Did I hug him today? Was I really that selfish?) I have believed that I would be unable to rise again, to face myself in the mirror again, to try again. I have given up. I have have vowed to never put extend myself again. I have wished to stay in bed with the covers pulled up to my ears eternally. Knowing this, and knowing me better than I know myself my Father in Heaven endowed me with the gift of courage a.k.a. a tiny voice that says, "I will try again."
I am so grateful for the atonement, for second chances, for each day that I have to strive to be better than the day before.
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