Well, hello! Hi, welcome!

I thought… wait, no, that thing you said earlier

G’day, Mate!

There we go! Thank you. So, is it morning where you are?

Yep, it’s morning. I called and interrupted you while you were on the exercise cycle, right? I was at the gym because I like to get my workouts done in the morning before starting the day.

Good for you! My day is just beginning. We’re winding down over here in the edge of Texas and Louisiana.

Oh, that’s in the United States! I was thinking the edge of Texas is sort of out in the middle of nowhere, isn’t it?

Yeah, it is kind of in the middle of nowhere, near the Gulf of Mexico in the southeastern part of the United States. I looked at your profile earlier and wanted to ask: what is a transformational life coach?

Oh, good question! I work with women who are at a stage in life where major changes have happened—like the death or divorce of a partner, or even empty nest syndrome. These are big changes that lead people to ask, “What do I do now? Who am I now?” We’re often only 50 or 60 years old, with possibly 30 years left to live. I help people figure out what’s next and who they are now. I can relate; I have eight children, and I understand the feeling of losing that identity.

I didn’t mean to derail you with that question, but I was curious! So, tell me about yourself.

Okay! I just turned 69, which feels crazy to say. Some people think that’s old, but I actually feel quite young. I have eight children ranging from 23 to 50. I got married at 19 and had six kids, then got divorced and remarried. We thought it would be lovely to have a child together, and we had two more. Eight is enough!

Unfortunately, my second husband passed away six years ago. It was really tough; losing a spouse is one of the hardest journeys I’ve ever faced.

I can relate. I recently went through that too, and it’s not as easy as it sounds. It’s like having a jigsaw puzzle nearly complete, and then someone comes along and scatters all the pieces. You have to try to put it back together without knowing what the final picture looks like.

That’s a powerful analogy. I want to connect with people who understand that feeling of loss. My husband was fit and healthy; we had plans for our future together, and then life threw us a curveball.

The death of a spouse changes everything, even the little things—like what TV shows you watch. I remember turning on the TV a couple of days after he passed and realizing it was one of his favorite shows. I found myself questioning whether I liked it or wanted to watch it anymore.

I had a similar experience. I watched a show filmed in a neighborhood we lived in, and every scene reminded me of our time there. I couldn’t watch it without wanting to share those moments with him.

And the hard part is facing milestones, like graduations, without them. It makes you question how you’ll navigate those moments in the future.

Do you think your background as a life coach helps you personally through this?

You know, I thought it would. I’m a qualified counselor and have worked in the field for years. I believed I could cope well with the loss since it wasn’t unexpected. But a couple of months later, I realized I wasn’t coping as well as I thought. I even sought counseling myself.

The counselor told me that it usually takes at least two years to truly process the loss, which horrified me. I didn’t want to feel that way for so long! But she was spot on. Despite my knowledge and experience, it took that time for me to begin feeling like I could move forward.

Now, as I approach the two-year mark, I recognize that I’m much better than I was a year ago. Having this conversation shows growth.

Absolutely, it’s a journey. There are no shortcuts or quick fixes. You have to go through every painful step, feel it, and move past it. If you don’t fully immerse yourself in those feelings, it’s hard to move forward.

The only way to deal with feelings is to feel them. Many try to escape the pain through various means. I focus on methods like journaling and meditation because you really need to confront your feelings, whether that’s anger or sadness. It’s all part of the process.

You can stamp your feet and yell; it’s actually okay. I tell people that God can take it. You can yell at Him if you want. Many feel it’s wrong, but He understands how hard it is. Just don’t leave Him, because He is the one person who will always stay. You might lose friends or companions, but the testimony is that God is there. I remember when I was younger, people would say, “You’ll be grateful for your trials one day,” and I thought they didn’t understand my struggles. Now, I can genuinely say that this trial, in particular, has brought me closer to God.

I realize now that our trials are for our good. I wouldn’t tell someone that in the first few weeks of grief, but I do feel like a kinder, more spiritual person because of it. I’m sorry that it took losing someone for me to progress in that way, but it’s part of the journey. When you start to see the bigger picture, it becomes clearer. I feel more for my children now, especially my daughter who was only 17 when her dad passed.

For her 21st birthday, he had promised her a car, and after his passing, I found myself trying to navigate that task without any knowledge about cars. It was tough for both of us. Initially, when I suggested we go buy a car, she burst into tears, saying it was too painful. But eventually, she realized she needed a car, so we chose one based on its color and features. It worked out well, and she’s happy with it.

Life is undeniably hard, and I believe it’s designed to be that way for a reason—to refine us. The term “Refiner’s Fire” starts to take on real meaning after going through significant challenges. My goal now is to help others navigate their pain, just as a counselor helped me. It’s essential to seek support; even skilled individuals like myself need help during tough times.

Before I found the gospel, I had a challenging upbringing. I discovered the gospel as a teenager, which is interesting given how many youth seem to leave the church today. I was raised in a not-so-great family environment. My mother left when I was 14, and my father, while not a bad person, was quite absent-minded, focusing on his academic career rather than parenting. We often felt like we were raising ourselves.

When I was around 15, I encountered the Institute of Religion on my university campus while walking to catch the school bus. One day, out of curiosity, I went inside, and two missionaries welcomed me. They became my friends, and I got involved in their activities. Although I went through missionary discussions multiple times, I struggled to connect with the teachings until a convert missionary explained the love of God in a way that resonated with me.

I also had a crush on a missionary who came from Canada, which added to my interest in the church. I was in a time of my life where I faced choices—being pulled in one direction by the world and in another by the gospel. I investigated for nearly a year and ultimately got baptized just after my 16th birthday. This decision significantly changed my life, guiding me on a more positive path at a critical crossroads.

It wasn’t until they were filling out the forms for baptism that some people realized I was too young to be there. I was curious if you faced any resistance from your absent-minded father regarding this. Was he okay with it, or did he just sign the papers when you presented them to him?

He was more like, “Sure, if that’s what you want.” My mom wasn’t there to sign, so I asked him to do it, and he went along with it. Clever, right? They did have to sign, and it was only during the paperwork that someone pointed out my age. Somehow, they connected with some family members, and I had become friends with a girl at school whose family was one of the original Canadian families from Cardston. If I only had the knowledge I have now, I would love to go back and ask them questions!

Her family helped me a lot. I ended up attending Seminary, and her father would drive a fair distance every morning to pick me up. The Seminary teacher would then take a group of us to school in a tiny Volkswagen. I gained a solid grounding in the gospel at that age and developed friendships at school with others in the church. I kept going to the Institute for dances and activities as well.

As for my brothers, they didn’t show any interest in the gospel. My father was indifferent, and my grandmother in Australia was horrified. I had been raised in the Church of England, where my grandmother was a strong influence. I lived with her at various times because my mother was not very present. Growing up, I was brought up in the Church of England and participated in confirmation classes at age 12. During those classes, I struggled to understand the Nicene Creed, which seemed confusing to me.

I always enjoyed church and the feelings it brought me, and that preparation likely helped me later. One of my first questions for the missionaries was about the nature of God and Jesus. Learning that they were distinct beings made sense to me, especially since I had questioned that before. It was incredible to have 19-year-old missionaries answering questions that the priests hadn’t been able to clarify.

I had always believed in living forever, but the family aspect wasn’t clear to me at first. The missionaries’ explanation about the nature of God and Jesus resonated with me deeply. It was a significant moment when I realized they were answering questions I had long pondered. I found it fascinating that these young missionaries were out helping people and clarifying confusion about faith.

Reflecting on my testimony at baptism, I remember feeling a sweet innocence and the comfort of knowing the Holy Ghost would guide me. However, I didn’t fully understand the gospel at that time; I was still just a kid. After getting married at 19, we made sacrifices to go to the temple in New Zealand, which was a big deal. My experience there was overwhelming, and it didn’t enhance my testimony as I had hoped.

After my divorce, I realized I had missed my connection with God. It was only later that I understood God’s love for me, regardless of my circumstances. I didn’t need to check every box to be worthy of that love. Life continued with its ups and downs, and I didn’t truly grasp the depth of my testimony until I remarried and faced the loss of a baby. That experience made me reflect on the doctrine that our children would be with us in the next life, and I yearned for that connection.

What do I do to get that? Now it’s real, now it matters. I’m starting to understand it. By this time, I’m 40 years old, and it has taken a long time for me to truly get it as a church member. The testimony that God is there, especially in difficult times, has been the strongest aspect of my faith. He is there to give hope and support during the tough moments. This testimony has carried me through the next 20 years of my life.

Have you seen the gospel carry on through your children?

That’s a good question, and it’s important for others to hear. After my divorce, I felt like the church caused it, which isn’t entirely true. We were so busy and committed that we missed the spirit. I wish I could go back and teach my kids about God’s love and the power of prayer. None of my children are anti-church; they just have a perception of it as being too much about hard work and sacrifice. My oldest son is very into genealogy and spends his time on ancestry.com. He says that while others are playing video games, he’s doing this research. His wife even jokes that he’s really a Mormon at heart; he just doesn’t attend church.

My daughter has fond memories of the missionaries visiting our home. If they knock on her door now, she’ll let them in, offer them water, and say, “Don’t talk the gospel to me; I already know it,” but she’ll feed them. My kids aren’t all that distant from the church, but they do carry some misconceptions.

I know this doesn’t help, but we are responsible for ourselves. Many parents have children who have stepped away from the faith. I took a decade off after my mission, feeling like I needed a break after two years of intense commitment. I worked in Hollywood for about ten years, and I only saw the inside of the church a few times. Eventually, I realized it was time to get back into it, and I did.

In some ways, stepping away gives you a contrast to appreciate what the church offers. It’s important to see what else is out there in the world. There are good things and good people everywhere.

I appreciate you taking the time to chat with me. It’s been wonderful spending this time together. I’m glad to have you as a sister.

Have you heard of our podcast called “Thriving LDS Singles”?

Yes, I saw it on your page! It’s not a dating site, but it aims to show that you can be single in the church and still thrive. I co-host it with Kim Cobbler from Arizona. We want to address the misconception that singles are a side group in the church, especially those who are divorced. Nearly 50% of church members are single, and we believe they should thrive and continue to grow and learn.

The singles community is vital because, as we discussed earlier, you can only truly understand mourning when you’ve experienced it yourself. We need to support each other during those times of loneliness and brokenness. That’s where God works.

I’ll definitely have to listen to your podcast; it sounds fascinating!

Yes, it’s available on YouTube, Apple Podcasts, and we have a Facebook group that goes with it. We interview amazing singles who are living fulfilling lives and serve as role models for what’s next.

Thank you for this great conversation! It’s been around 46 minutes, but I enjoyed every second of it. Thanks for letting me share my testimony.