Work will Work While Wishing, Whining, and Worrying Won't

My sister remembers this story about me. Evidently the whole family was out working in the yard one Saturday. Everyone except me. Patty came in to get a drink of water, saw me on the couch reading a book and asked why I wasn’t working. I said, “It’s OK. I’m not good at stuff like that so it’s OK for me not to do it.”

Did I mention I was the youngest?

I have no memory of this happening, but I have no doubt it did. I was a total slacker. My parents encouraged it too, I’m afraid. My mother would say, “You don’t need to help with the dishes. Go study. You’ll have plenty of time to do dishes when you grow up.” By study, I assumed she meant go read your book.

Still, I think she knew I had a problem. When I was asked to give a 2 ½ minute talk in Sunday School, my mom suggested the topic of “work.” She handed me a book of quotes on the topic to get me started.

Luckily, I had great role models: parents and older siblings who worked hard. And eventually I got a job and went away to college and got married and had children. I learned to work.

One day when I was a mom and also teaching at BYU,  I was sitting in the Marriott center listening to a Devotional talk and heard this maxim: “Work Will Work When Wishing Won’t.” I just now did an internet search and evidently this is a common proverb, but I heard it first then. Perhaps the speaker was Thomas S Monson, before he was president of the church; according to my search he often used this quote, sometimes as “Work Will Work When Wishy-Washy-Wishing Won’t.”

In any event, from then on the adage became my mantra. Stack of papers you wish were graded? Get to work! Dishes piled in the sink? Work will work. I typed the saying up and hung it on the fridge. When my children complained of homework or housework or whatever, I’d point them toward the fridge—Work will work! In time, I added more Ws to the phrase. Whining doesn’t help, worrying doesn’t help.

Work will work when wishing, whining, and worrying won’t.

Last Mother’s Day, my kids even gave me a sampler of the proverb. (See photo above.)

Admittedly, there are clearly problems that work cannot solve. But still, doing something—anything constructive—can often help. When my daughter’s husband was diagnosed with brain cancer, Emily immediately went to work finding the best possible oncologists and surgeons. When a friend was struggling to know how to help a daughter with mental illness, she began meeting with a therapist herself so that she could work to become a strong support to her daughter. When my father died, my mother took comfort in working on a scrapbook about his life.

I have heard that when you don’t know what to do, do something. Anything. Even kick a stone. The worst thing is to do nothing, to feel that you are helpless, that there is no way out.

And that advice holds for even minor problems. One day I stepped out of the shower and found I had forgotten to bring a towel into the bathroom. I stood there and whined to myself yet again: “Why didn’t Paul design this bathroom with room for a linen closet? Why doesn’t Paul build a shelf in here to store towels? Why do we still, 30 years after building this house, still have no storage for towels here?”

Then I thought, “Work will work. Do something.” So (after I found a towel and was dressed) I opened up the cupboard under the bathroom sink. The space was packed with bottles of shampoo I didn’t like and gadgets I never used. I pulled them all out, trashed what I knew was useless and found other homes for what I wanted. Within about fifteen minutes the space was clear. Five minutes later it was stocked with fluffy clean towels. We had a space for linens, after all those years of whining.

Ta dah! Work does work when wishing, whining, and worrying doesn’t.