See the Good

It’s essential that we try to See the Good around us because when we do we see God in our life. It might not be easy, but there’s usually something of Him to comfort us and bring us hope. Here are insights I’ve had that remind me to see the good. For more about this mental trick and to read an excerpt about it from my memoir, scroll to the bottom of the page.

See the Good Photo Gallery

I’m soooo excited to see these tulips! We planted the bulbs almost a year ago, and it’s about time to see them bloom. I love the metaphor in that. ❤️ Darkness doesn’t mean you’re over. It DOES mean you’ve been planted. You just need the strength to push through. Faith isn’t enough. It also takes the strength and willingness to work and keep going. The potential in this row makes me happy every time I walk by. Maybe our grass can use some work, but our flowers are going to be amazing!👊 #bloom
Truth: It’s been a hard year. 😬 😉Depression and anxiety have crept into our home again, through more than one door. I try to focus on the good and share that but I also want to be real, so here goes. ❤️We’ve needed help from friends, family, and even the Bishop’s storehouse at least once. We’ve stressed more when we should have prayed more. We’ve even occasionally asked the haunting, unhelpful question, “Why me?” But on the days we didn’t feel like getting out of bed, when we’ve been stuck in that depressing darkness, there have always been “packets of sunlight.” That’s what Richard G. Scott calls them in his incredible talk “Trust in the Lord” that I was blessed to read this weekend. I love my family, as much as they take over my life. Lol 😂 I love my potential, even if not being who I want to be yet frustrates me at times. #divinediscontent 🤗 Here we are in our often-disorganized, always under-construction home, just back from church. Sam’s the quickest to change out of his dress clothes and is eating the leftover popcorn he made for his breakfast. We’re squeezing each other because I wanted a candid photo and that’s what happened- squishy, happy faces. 😊 And there’s my husband, wearing a kitchen towel on his tummy because he didn’t want to get an apron on when I told him to after I saw him frying bacon in his white dress shirt. 😂 We are normal, everyday people, but we are AMAZING because we keep moving forward.👊 We have chaos. We have craziness. We have messes. We have tears. We have resentment and ugly anger. We have moments where life doesn’t feel fair and we don’t want to get up and try again. But we also have kisses, and joy, and laughter, and prayers, and do-overs, and squishy hugs, and microwave popcorn. Today I am thankful for all of it. I may not be tomorrow, haha. But right now I can see spiritually and with a little faith, and thankfully, I can say this crazy life is a good one.

Missing you something fierce today, Daddy. There are times I feel richly blessed to know my kids have a grandpa on the other side to protect and strengthen them, but today I always get a tad selfish and wish you were here to tickle and cuddle them (Mom and me too), to share your Civil War facts with, to remind us to turn off the water while we brush our teeth so we don’t waste it, to sit in the car and wait after we already parked as we finish listening to a great song on the radio (or maybe just “take the long way home”), to dance as you played Elton John or the theme song to Romeo and Juliet on the piano so beautifully, to ride bikes down paths at UC Davis, to help the kids with their math like you helped me with mine (even if you wanted to derive the Pythagorean theorem EVERY time), to get bubble gum ice cream and save the gum in our cheeks like funny human hamsters, to have a LOTR marathon (extended versions!), to email me a Dave Berry column or list of puns or the interpretation of the lyrics American Pie, or just sit and hear you read Harry Potter to me with all your hilarious voices (thanks to you I will ALWAYS hear Harry Potter’s voice in my head as a cowboy LOL 😂). Oh, life just doesn’t seem fair when I have so much good but don’t have you here visibly sharing it too. A photo on the fridge just isn’t enough. But even as I write that, I know it’s selfish. You lived a hundred good lifes in your one short one. You taught me how to make the most of my life, with a smile. And I know, without any doubt, that I will see you standing with all your grandkids someday all clothed in white, beside your wife (who still misses you with a fierce, eternal love), and then I will understand more why we had to be apart from each other these few, long years of mortality when all I wanted was to be held by you, see your big toothy grin, and hear you laugh. It will be ok though. Even as I write this, I feel you smiling over my shoulder. No, not even death could take your vitality and life. ❤️ Love you, Daddy. (Michael Bruce Anderson 1959-2014)
It’s been another stressful week, but there have been a lot of highlights too, like this sunset. It caught my eye as I was waiting for my kids (who were running late). But that gave me time to pause and think. I think God can see the beauty that comes from contrasting light and dark and that’s one reason why He allows both in our lives. There must be an opposition in all things, even when we choose the right. But that’s OK. Our lives can still be beautiful with good friends, family, faith, love, compassion, and the Spirit. I’m grateful He still finds ways to make glorious moments for me through all of it. 
Family Home Evening was setting a bookmark to the Youth and Children pages of on the kids’ laptops. “You mean we can listen to the scriptures on here?!” It was cool to see how excited they were as we taught them to navigate through the website and search by topic. We really do live in the fullness of times!! #fhe#fhewithkids #lds #familynight#iamamormon (Not pictured, the meltdown that happened when it was time to brush teeth and go to bed.😉) 
One of the greatest gifts my sweet Daddy gave me was his death. (Deep breath as I try to explain.) I held his hand and watched Life leave him, but not end, just fly somewhere else I couldn’t see because of my own mortal limitations. I could still feel a presence, like when you call someone who’s far away – you know they’re there before they even answer the phone. His Spirit still lived, I just couldn’t see it. He had been partially paralyzed for years but I knew, I KNEW he was in a place he could be free now, the same way you feel the love someone has for you even if you can’t prove it with science or math or any other earthly explanations. It’s not possible to prove it with simple worldly ways because love isn’t of this Earth; it’s heavenly! Love is from Above. That’s where my Dad is too. The last few weeks I’ve had some amazing moments where I’ve been reminded of that. In both stressful times and peaceful times, I’ve had powerful feelings that my Dad was there. I can’t explain it all in a quick social media post; they’re too sacred for that. I just want to bear testimony that the role of a parent and grandparent goes beyond the veil. And that veil can be very thin when we live with faith. Believe in miracles. Believe in tender mercies, and that the storm will break. Believe in angels and believe in God because they definitely believe in YOU. Thanks for letting me share. Have a beautiful Sabbath! ❤
Well, I can’t say he didn’t hang up his church clothes. 😂 Haha I was so proud of him for doing it on his own, without any reminder from me, that I took a picture of him when I saw him putting his shirt on the hanger. Apparently, I should of waited to see HOW he put it in on the hanger.🤣
This. This is pure joy. Experiencing discoveries with my family beside me. Nature. Sunshine. Freckles. Not caring about make-up. Not stressing about the weight I’ve put on since my surgeries. Not worrying about whether my kids are reading quickly enough, spelling perfectly, or whatever fixation I’m struggling with as a parent. Not comparing my marriage or anything else with the Joneses. Not even dreaming about what colors we’re going to paint our fixer upper when we finally start fixing it. This is happiness found in God’s gifts… His tallest trees. His most humble creatures. The somberness of a cloudy day that rains refreshing life. Solitude…with my family. ❤ This is still hard sometimes. No distractions to run to when we are human and hurt eachother. No internet or interruptions. But the healing is so much more satisfying as we take everything in together – raw, real and natural. This is life. This is growth. This is family. This is eternal. This is sacred. We pump our water, swat at eachother’s faces when mosquitoes get too close, protect, cook on campfires together, replenish, chat on hammocks, see the stars, and restore what’s broken. This is JOY. This is a privilege. This is my heart today. ❤ 
Today marks one year since my hysterectomy. Chad did a great job of distracting me all day, keeping me happy and productive. By the end of the day and this year though, I can finally look in the mirror and say I like who I am, what I see, and the choice I made. 

Here’s part of my memoir where I describe learning to see the good. I hope it helps you see the goodness in your life!

The first clear memory I have of receiving advice to accentuate the positive was during a counseling session. I had developed awful anxiety while driving thanks to my dear kids’ regular screaming fits whenever we traveled. Anywhere. Even a short trip to the grocery store could mean multiple stops as I pulled over and waited for the tantrums to end. I couldn’t drive safely under the pressure of the screaming and kicking. It stressed me out too much. It seemed like my kids were afraid of driving, so it was hard to be mad at them. It was still really hard for me to handle though.

I tried to save driving for the evening, when I could leave my darlings with my husband and run errands on my own, but I couldn’t always do this. Grocery shopping could happen on my schedule, but appointments were usually during the middle of the day. According to the doctors and therapists I’d seen, I was supposed to be getting out to places like the park or library to help me fight my depression. This meant I needed to be driving. However, with my children’s crying and my mounting anxiety, it wasn’t happening.

When I brought up the challenging situation to my counselor, her answer shocked me.

“Just be grateful,” she told me. I stared at her, clearly confused.

“Grateful?” I answered. “For what?”

“Just be grateful your kids have lungs. Be grateful they can make sounds! When they’re yelling, be glad they’re healthy and can scream as loud as they do.”

I’ll be honest. At that moment, I thought she was more mentally unbalanced than I was. She was completely out of touch! She had no idea how severe my anxiety and depression was. If she did, there’s no way she would have been making such crazy suggestions.

Perhaps that sounds cruel, but these moments of anxiety were torture! It meant sobbing, falling apart, tears streaming down my cheeks as I sat in a parked car with my kids. It meant feeling like I was an inadequate mother, ill-prepared and unequipped to handle the easiest tasks. It even meant frustration with God for giving me great kids, but no skills to take care of them. Why couldn’t I enjoy motherhood? It felt like a cruel joke!

I was just supposed to be grateful? I was supposed to see my blessings while I was breaking down? I didn’t see how. Why should I be happy while I was falling apart? That didn’t make any sense to me. It didn’t seem possible. How was I supposed to be happy about anything with this level of anxiety?

But, she was right. Looking back on that moment, I’m eternally thankful for her advice. It’s another milestone in my recovery because her suggestion was a great one. I needed to be grateful.

After all, the situation really could have been worse. My kids could have been choking. Or my kids could have already passed away due to an illness. That might sound dramatic, but it’s true. I hadn’t had to deal with the pain of a miscarriage or other health problems with my children. It was just me, with my mental health issues, and I preferred that. I even wondered if that had been my choice or our choice as a family in our premortal lives. That’s entirely speculation, but I knew I would have gladly chosen to take on an infirmity if it meant my kids wouldn’t have to.

As I tried to see more of the good in my situation, I realized I could not have had a car to use at all. I remembered what it was like to be home with kids and with no vehicle to get out around town. It’s hard! Pushing a double stroller in the snow was miserable. Whoever invented snow blowers did not have the width of a double wide stroller in mind when they came up with that design. At least I had a car to drive around and be screamed at in. That was a huge blessing, even if it wasn’t always easy to enjoy.

I came to understand that there really always is a sunny side if you choose to see it. It may not be your initial reaction. The sunny side may be more about what you’re getting out of the experience than the experience itself. It may take some time to gain the perspective necessary to see the silver lining in that massive storm cloud, but there are two sides to every coin, a yin to every yang, and a good for every bad. We are happier when we choose to focus on that good.


As I tried to See the Good, I learned to see, feel, and appreciate every bit of good I could. Instead of picking apart things I didn’t like, I learned to notice details that could cheer me up. Maybe it was the smile of my child or a surprise kiss from them. Some days it was just the freedom to be outside that helped me. I wasn’t in a jail cell and that was something to smile about. I could open a window and get some fresh air when I felt stifled by my circumstances. I could sit outside or take a walk. That independence was liberating and I chose to be grateful for it.

Some days I found happiness in being able to brush my hair. At that point I wasn’t in shape, so exercising or getting dressed up wasn’t always enjoyable since I was still learning to See the Good in my body. But I was able to enjoy my hair. I was healthy enough to grow it and it was pretty no matter what my weight was, so I was thankful for that. Being free of cancer is something I try not to take for granted since there’s a strong history of it in my family. I’m also BRCA-1 positive making my risk for cancer even higher. So, I saw the blessing it was to be able to grow my hair out, brush it, and style it. Also, I was free of food addiction now, and that was a blessing. My body wasn’t everything I wanted it to be yet, but I still had a lot to be thankful for.

We are all in different circumstances. I’m sure we could list a variety of challenges that are hard to see as blessings. Some are very serious, unfair, and unexpected. The hurt may be greater than we ever expected to endure. I’ve had days, weeks, even months like that, when I wondered if I could make it through another minute of living because I was so burdened. I am not trying to belittle those trials. Feelings of heartache should be recognized and honored, but do not let them stay forever. Move forward.

Choose to step back into the sunshine. I know trials do not have to take away from the happiness and beauty this world has to offer. The cup is still—at least—half full. Especially since you have a cup! Being here, alive, means there is a chance for change. Maybe you don’t see that hope right now. But whether you can see it or not, the potential is still there. It’s real. That is the good we need to seek after if we want to feel joy in the midst of adversity.

Some circumstances may be so painful, it’s impossible to find joy in the event itself. I’ve had situations in my life where people made poor choices and negatively affected their lives and hurt others, including myself, in the process. Sometimes there was absolutely nothing good about their actions, except that it was a catalyst or opportunity for change. That’s when I realized some situations have no good in and of themselves, only good that can come after it, as a reaction. Maybe the devastating event leads to our increasing our reliance on God, inspiring us to pray and fast more. Maybe it leads to a change in the person who made the poor decision, once they deal with the consequences. I can’t write every possible blessing here, but I do know I’ve had major traumas and tragedies in my life and have still found good that came from them—eventually.

In time, we can all learn to See the Good. It’s not fair to see the world as black just because a few (or many) ink blots have splattered their way onto our glasses. Maybe things didn’t turn out how you expected. Maybe you got more mud thrown at you than you wanted. Clean off your glasses. Look beyond the smears and dust. Even the prettiest gardens are planted in dirt. Don’t dwell there. Look up and around. There is still beauty. There is still joy. There is still light. Let it contrast the dark. We must See the Good if we want to live in it, and it is possible to, starting right now, if you just choose to do it.

So, do it! Make a list of all the good in your life. If something negative makes its way into your mind, think of three positive aspects of it instead. Or think of the good that will eventually come after it. Sometimes if I’m getting discouraged I’ll think, ”And then what?” I’ll tell myself, “Yes, that hard thing happened, but what am I going to make of the situation? What am I going to do about it? What other good things are in my life?” I don’t have to dwell on the downside. I can move past it and find the sunny side.

Even if you don’t believe every silver lining you list when you’re contradicting the negative thoughts, list them anyway. I dare you. Eventually, if you stick with it, you will learn to believe the positive thoughts again. Seeing the good in your reality, instead of just your reality, is the bravest, best gift you can grant yourself. Allow yourself that gift.