There are days when it feels like sloshing through the mud of my father’s horse corral. I remember donning the big rubber boots and sludging through sloppy, suctioning muck, which is really a nicer word for something altogether not so nice. Slogging through to bring a horse over to be doctored, or given some medicine mixture, was precarious at best. The boots didn’t fit quite right. Heels sliding up and down as the suction of the mud closed in with a vice-like grip. On one particular occasion, the mud won and the foot slipped up and out launching me forward face down and up to my elbows in, umm….well muck.

Some days as an LDS single mother feel like that. Responsibilities weigh heavily. Resources seem scarce. It becomes bone and spirit wearying to pull against the suctioning mud of life. It’s at those times that I have to remember that there is fertility within that muck. Throw it on a garden and the flowers bloom.

I’m hoping that muck is fertile in life, too. It seems to be. Just when we get the boots on and think we can head across life’s corral, we learn another lesson…whether it is how to hug those boots tighter, or getting back up after falling in the mud, the point is to try, I suppose. And trying is where Courage lies.

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