There are seasons in life where everything feels exposed.

Not just circumstances… but the heart.

As we approach another General Conference this April 4th–5th, I’ve found myself looking back at the messages from October 2025—not casually, but with intention. Almost like walking back through a field I once planted, now checking to see what actually took root.

And one message has stayed with me more than the others.

A simple phrase from Elder Carlos A. Godoy:

“No complaints, only grateful hearts and smiling faces.”

At first, it sounded like something nice to say.

Now it feels like something I’m being asked to live.

If you’d like to read or listen to the full message, here is the talk that has been working on me:
https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/general-conference/2025/10/54godoy?lang=eng

If I’m honest, contention has lived in me longer than I’d like to admit.

Not always loud.
Not always visible.

But there.

It shows up in frustration… in defensiveness… in the quiet justifications I make for why I’m right and someone else is wrong.

And if I trace it back far enough, I can see the root:

Bitterness.

Unresolved disappointment.
Unmet expectations.
Old wounds that I’ve carried longer than I should have.

I’ve told myself stories to make sense of it all.
Stories that made me the victim.
Stories that gave me permission to hold on.

But bitterness doesn’t stay contained.

It leaks.

Into conversations.
Into relationships.
Into the way I see the people I love most.

One of the things that struck me most in Elder Godoy’s message was his experience with members of the Church in Africa.

People who, by worldly standards, have far less than I do.

Less comfort.
Less stability.
Less margin.

And yet…

Their response wasn’t complaint.

It wasn’t resentment.

It wasn’t entitlement.

It was this:

“No complaints, only grateful hearts and smiling faces.”

That stopped me.

Because if I’m honest…

I have complained with far more and endured far less.

That contrast has been working on me.

Not in a way that produces shame…

But in a way that produces clarity.

There’s a difference between hearing a message… and letting it work on you.

Over the past few days, as I’ve revisited this talk, something has shifted.

Not all at once.

But enough to notice.

That phrase—

“No complaints, only grateful hearts and smiling faces”—

has started to feel less like a suggestion…
and more like an invitation.

An invitation to examine not just what I say out loud… but what I rehearse internally.

Because if I’m honest, most of my “complaints” never leave my mouth.

They live in my thoughts.

They shape my tone.
They influence my reactions.
They quietly harden my heart.

And I’ve begun to see something clearly:

A complaining heart cannot be a grateful one at the same time.​

Gratitude isn’t just a feeling.

It’s a discipline.

A choice.

Sometimes a fight.

Especially when life doesn’t look the way you thought it would.

There are things in my life right now that I wish were different.

Relationships I wish were healed.
Moments I wish I could go back and redo.
Words I wish I could take back.

And yet, Elder Godoy’s message reminds me that gratitude is not dependent on circumstances—it is a condition of the heart.

But gratitude doesn’t wait for perfection.

It starts right here.

In the middle of what is.

And I’ve noticed something:

When I choose gratitude—even imperfectly—it begins to burn away the edges of that bitterness.

Not instantly.

But steadily.

Like a slow fire that refines instead of destroys.​

I used to think “smiling faces” meant putting on a front.

Pretending everything is okay when it’s not.

But I don’t think that’s what this message is inviting us into.

Especially when I think about those faithful Saints Elder Godoy described—people facing real hardship, yet choosing to smile.

That’s not performance.

That’s power.

A smiling face, in this sense, is a reflection of trust.

Trust that God is aware.
Trust that He is patient with me.
Trust that He is still shaping something good—even when I can’t see it yet.

It’s not denial.

​It’s faith.

As we approach General Conference again, I’m not coming with a checklist.

I’m coming with questions.

Where is my heart still hard?

Where am I still holding on to complaint instead of choosing gratitude?

What would it look like to truly live the next six months with a different spirit?

Not a perfect one.

But a softer one.

A more grateful one.

And maybe… just maybe…

A smiling one.

I don’t think this is a change that happens overnight.

I know myself too well for that.

But I do feel something settling in me.

A quiet commitment.

To catch the complaint before it takes root.
To replace it—however imperfectly—with gratitude.
To let go of the need to be right… and instead choose to be at peace.

And more than anything…

To try.

To try living what those Saints in Africa are already showing me is possible.

I have a long way to go.

But for the first time in a while…

I feel like I’m headed in the right direction.

If you’re like me, this isn’t about pretending life is easy.

It’s about choosing a better way to walk through it.

And maybe learning from people who already live it… even when life is harder than ours.

One thought at a time.

One response at a time.

​One grateful moment at a time.

Gratefully,

Scott Alan Westhoff
Create A Great Day.