January 13, 2026
Sunday marked the end of an era, a year sooner than we originally anticipated. Greg was released as the bishop of our Arizona ward because he will start working part-time in Kansas City later this week.
The days leading up to his release were packed with a range of emotions that will be difficult to quantify. But have no fear; I will make the messy attempt.
Let me begin by saying that Greg loved (almost) every minute of his four years of service. Participating in the work of salvation by working one-on-one with so many individuals was deeply fulfilling for him, and he was exceptionally good at it.
Watching him thrive in this role was my favorite part of the experience. It felt as if he was born for the work of loving and serving others in this capacity. So, for him, last week was filled with sadness as he anticipated closing a chapter that had changed him for the better.
For me, things were a bit more complicated. And by “a bit,” what I really mean is that I spent last week wrestling with a question I thought *should* be simple to answer, but proved to be quite taxing: How has this calling blessed my life over the last four years?
Seeing blessings was not the challenging part. The Lord’s fingerprints have been all over our lives, especially over the past five months, as He has clearly guided us to Missouri.
But were those blessings a result of a calling? It did not feel quite so linear to me.
Granted, I am the overthinker of the century, so that *may* have played into my struggle. I often wish I could turn off my brain for a few minutes because I can’t seem to stop myself from overanalyzing every scenario. (Please send help!)
But the reality is that Greg’s years of service as a bishop have been among the hardest for me. Many of the challenges have not resulted from his service but have been amplified by it. So, untangling my feelings as we prepared to close this chapter was much tougher than I expected.
Over the last four years, my life has changed drastically. I have sent several of my children on missions and to college. Two of them got married and blessed us with two daughters-in-law and two grandkids.
For the past two years, we have had only one teenager at home, who is rarely home. And, with a bishop husband, who spent many nights and all day Sunday at the church, I was alone most of the time. Having spent the 25 years prior to that point raising five children in a bustling household, adjusting to the loneliness of a quiet house was brutal, even as an introvert who generally doesn’t mind being alone.
But it wasn’t just the loneliness that got to me. I was also struggling to understand my purpose in this new stage of life, where motherhood was far more hands-off, and my contributions no longer felt quite as important.
I tried to plan for this years ago by building a life outside of motherhood. For me, that looked like an online platform that allowed me to share my life and my faith in ways that used my talents in writing, teaching, and speaking.
But as my life changed, it felt increasingly difficult to show up online. Revelation about what to share on social media and in my podcast, which once flowed like a river, seemed to dry up almost overnight, despite sincere and repeated efforts to seek God’s voice on the matter.
There were many times I felt abandoned by the Lord in my quiet, lonely house, unsure of how to move forward in this uncharted season of life.
Meanwhile, Greg was having incredible experiences and seeing miracles almost daily as he faithfully served in his calling – experiences that, for obvious reasons, he could not share with me. I was happy he was able to participate in God’s work in such a meaningful way. But before he was a bishop, we shared everything. Now, there was a whole part of his life we could not talk about. The challenges of that, combined with his extended absences from home, were amplified by the loneliness and lack of direction I already felt.
Like I said, most of the hard things about being a bishop’s wife were related to my stage of life, not to the calling itself.
It was not hard all the time, though. Mostly, we fell into a routine, and things were as they were without much fuss. I kept things running at home, freeing him up to do the work of bishoping, and I only dwelt on the hard parts when they felt overwhelming.
But, knowing the stake president would ask me to share a few thoughts with the ward when Greg was released, what was I to say? I wanted to be real and honest, but how could I do that in a faith-promoting way?
After spending most of the week pondering my experience, shedding many tears, and begging the Lord to help me come up with something coherent, Saturday arrived, and I finally attempted to write a few sentences. Thankfully, ideas flowed because the Lord had my back, and I soon knew what I wanted to say.
I did not want to read my remarks, so I read them through several times as I got ready for church on Sunday morning, trying to commit them to memory. I was ready.
Or so I thought.
After announcing the new bishop and his counselors, the stake president called me up to share a few remarks. I walked up to the podium, looked out at the congregation, and my mind went completely blank.
With no words on the tip of my tongue, I heard myself say this inspiring phrase: “This is weird.”
THIS IS WEIRD.
I was off to a fantastic start.
Thankfully, my brain started to work again, and I skillfully moved from “This is weird” to the thoughts I had prepared to share, which sounded something like this:
As I reflect on the last four years, the experiences I have had, and what I have learned, the word that rises to the top is consecration. What does it mean to consecrate my life and my family to the Lord?
In the temple, we covenant to do just that, but I have not always been clear on what it looks like in practice. Having a bishop husband has taught me more about consecration than I possibly could have imagined because it is definitely a family calling (something I did not fully understand until I experienced it for myself).
I have learned that consecration is not always rainbows and butterflies and skipping through fields of daisies. Many times, it is soul-stretching and heart-wrenching, going against everything I think I want, which leads me to my knees again and again.
But maybe that is at least part of the point. Maybe the act of coming unto the Lord, as we seek to serve Him in uncomfortable ways, allows Him to teach us what is truly important. And, at the end of the day, what is truly important is building His kingdom, which begins with building a relationship with Him.
I have learned that sometimes, consecration looks like being on the front lines, leading, lifting, and participating in the saving of souls in a very hands-on way. And at other times, it looks like being part of the support staff, which is far less visible but equally important in the work of salvation.
I have learned that, at the end of the day, the Lord’s work is a collaborative effort of imperfect people who are doing their best to serve Him in the varied circumstances of their lives. And, however imperfect we are, God can use us to help Him if we are willing to consecrate our lives to Him.
I am grateful to have served on the bishop’s support staff for the last four years. There, I have seen miracles through the eyes of a bishop who loved every minute of his service. There, I have found Jesus in unexpected ways that testify to His love and grace.
This is His work, and it will continue to march forward. All is well and will be well forever because of Jesus Christ.
And then I sat down, feeling like the Lord had taught me about the importance of the work I had been engaged in for the past four years – work that often felt invisible. Yes, it was hard at times, but framing it under the umbrella of consecration made the hard feel holy. And that realization changed everything.
Now I can close this chapter with confidence that my offering was acceptable to the Lord. And, when I look back, I will remember that learning how to consecrate my life and my family to him, even when it was hard, was a necessary step in my journey back to Him.
And now, as we prepare to leave everything and everyone we know to move across the country because the Lord told us to go, what I learned about consecration as a bishop’s wife will surely lift and guide me through the hard parts of this next adventure.
Our work will continue in another part of the Lord’s vast vineyard. And, to quote myself in a moment of great wisdom: all is well and will be well forever because of Him.
Bring on another chapter.
**Read the rest of this journaling series here
