I Will NOT Quit!

Last night, I received the heartbreaking news that a mentor and giant of my youth had passed—Dr. Wendell Calder.

I first encountered Dr. Calder during my very first semester at Bible college, where he served as one of my professors. On the first day of class, he shared four simple words that would become a foundational truth in my life: “I will NOT quit.”

I wrote those words on a piece of paper and taped them above my dorm room desk. Whenever I felt overwhelmed, defeated, or on the verge of giving up, I would look up and draw strength from them. Time and time again, they were the catalyst that kept me moving forward.

I was so inspired by Dr. Calder that I dedicated the following summer to serving as a senior camp counselor at his camp, Camp Living Waters. I have always cherished the camp experience and the opportunity to work with youth—but the chance to combine that with time under Dr. Calder’s mentorship truly stirred my soul.

That summer, on the Fourth of July, I received devastating, life-altering news that shattered my world. I turned to Dr. Calder and his wonderful wife, Joan, and shared what had happened. That evening, they covered me with their love and prayers. Their compassion was a healing balm for my wounded spirit, and I have never forgotten the comfort they offered me in my darkest hour. It was not just their words—it was their presence, their love, their authenticity.

When Dr. Calder gently asked if I’d like to return home instead of finishing out my summer mission, I looked him in the eye and said, “No sir—because I will not quit.” He gave me that famous Calder grin—the one that said more than words ever could—and in that moment, I knew he was proud to see one of his students living out the very charge he had so passionately instilled.

I’m currently finalizing my autobiography, and one of the stories in my book centers around the events of that evening. While I regret not having the chance to share it with Dr. Calder, my heart is comforted knowing he holds a meaningful place within the pages of my story.

Over the years, Dr. Calder’s mantra—“I will not quit”—has echoed through the corridors of my life. One moment that stands out was just last year, as I prepared for my SHRM-CP exam. Weeks before the test, my father suffered three heart attacks. He was gravely ill, and my first instinct was to postpone the exam. But those four words tugged at my spirit once more. “I will not quit.” I held onto them. I sat for the exam—and I passed. The joy I felt in that moment was indescribable, and I whispered a quiet thank you to Dr. Calder for still, after 40 years, guiding me with his unwavering spirit.

Thank you, Dr. Calder, for giving me those four powerful words. Thank you for the example you set, the lives you touched, and the love you gave so freely.

Because of you, I didn’t and don't quit. And because of that, I’ve known the joy of victory through perseverance.

You were a gift. And you will never be forgotten. 💝

Women’s History Month: A Woman Who Inspires Me

I've seen many posts encouraging women to share stories about women who inspire them. While I’ve had the great fortune to work alongside, be mentored by, and admire incredible women, I want to take a different approach this time.

The woman who has most inspired me of late is my mom.

I’ll be perfectly honest—our relationship is rich yet complicated. We love deeply, but our interactions can be passionate, sometimes leading us to crossroads of angst and frustration. Yet, no matter how intense our clashes, we always find our way back—hearts weathered but bound by something deeper than words.

In late October of 2024, my 81-year-old father suffered three heart attacks in a single week. After the third, my mother received the devastating news that his condition was extremely grave. The cardiologist solemnly informed her: "Your husband is a very, very, very, very sick man and will most likely not leave the hospital."

In that moment, my mother stood at the edge of an unthinkable reality—the possibility of losing her partner of 60 years. The weight of those words, heavy with finality, threatened to shatter the world they had built together.

For ten weeks, she sat diligently by my father’s bedside, holding his hand through dark, frightening, and silent moments. She bore witness as he lay motionless on a ventilator, endured relentless poking and prodding, had tubes forced down his throat and plunged into his body, and underwent painful procedures. He was medicated to the point of hallucination, and as the weeks wore on, she watched helplessly as his body weakened.

Yet, through it all, she remained steadfast—determined to prove the doctors wrong and bring her husband home.

And home he came.

On New Year's Eve, at 10:30 p.m., chauffeured by ambulance, medics brought him through their front door. They stepped into the new year—and into the next chapter of his care—on their own terms.

Since then, my mother, who just turned 80, has been his unwavering caregiver, approaching the task with the precision of a five-star general on the most profound mission of her life. With relentless dedication, she monitors his vitals, prepares nourishing meals, and manages every delicate moment with grace and strength. She ensures his comfort at every turn, oversees his physical therapy with loving determination, including firmly insisting that he walk down the hall to the kitchen and back every two hours—each step a quiet act of hope and perseverance.

She has sacrificed her own freedoms, comforts, and needs to provide my father with the care he both requires and deserves. She has battled exhaustion and frustration, shed countless silent tears, and faced difficult conversations with courage—all while coming to terms with the reality of his health and the uncertain road ahead.

I wholeheartedly believe my father is alive today because of my mother’s unwavering love and devotion.

I have witnessed firsthand the deepest vows of marriage—‘for better or for worse, in sickness and in health’—come to life before my eyes. When couples eagerly recite those vows, they cannot fully grasp their depth. Only when they are thrust into hardships that feel unbearable do they truly understand their meaning. For those who honor this covenant, love becomes more than a promise—it becomes an unshakable foundation, carrying them through life’s most difficult trials

So today, I proudly nominate my mother as the woman who has most inspired me during Women’s History Month.

She is the embodiment of strength, love, and unwavering devotion. Through an extraordinary crisis, she has shown what true partnership and caregiving mean—caring for my father with dignity, grace, and resilience. Her selflessness not only sustained him in his time of need but also paved the way for more history to be written with him. She is a testament to the quiet yet profound power of women who shape the world, one act of bravery and love at a time.

Bravo, Mom! I love you. 

Life's 10,000 Mile Check-In

I recently took the plunge into the world of auto consumerism and got myself a new car. There’s something magical about that “new car smell” and the thrill of discovering all the shiny bells and whistles. As someone who stands at a proud 5’2”, I was downright giddy to find that my new ride comes with a seat that lifts me to an altitude where I can finally see over the hood—no more blind faith at stop signs!

My car salesman, Matt—part auto expert, part Jedi Master of vehicle knowledge—patiently walked me through all the high-tech features, making me feel like I was learning to pilot a spaceship. As we wrapped up, he gave me one crucial piece of advice: bring my classy new chassy back in when it hits 10,000 miles. Challenge accepted—though, at the rate I’m showing it off, that might be sooner than expected!

That got me thinking—what if we had a 10,000-mile check-up for our own lives? Just like a car needs routine maintenance to stay in peak condition, we could all use a little tuning up every now and then.

If our compassion filter was clogged, a fresh replacement would be an easy fix. Running low on integrity, optimism, discernment, courage, empathy, or trust? No problem—our life mechanic would replenish those reserves, ensuring we operate at our best. If our priorities were misaligned, a quick rotation would get us back on track, restoring balance and focus. And if negativity had built up in our system, slowing us down and making the ride bumpier than it needs to be, our life mechanic would flush out toxic thoughts and emotions—leaving only positive energy flowing through.

We’d leave the Life Station renewed and energized, our virtues topped off, our priorities finely tuned. With a full tank of clarity and confidence, we’d be ready to hit the road—full speed ahead into the next exciting stretch of our life’s journey.

I’d like to believe that we truly do have Life Stations we can pull into when we feel exhausted and depleted on our journey. These places of renewal aren’t marked by neon signs or fuel pumps, but rather by the people who care and uplift us—our partners, parents, family, friends, co-workers, churches, and, of course, therapists. Each plays a unique role, offering a different kind of restoration depending on the depth of our relationship with them.

For some, an encouraging word from a mentor or friend is like the perfect jump-start for a stalled engine. It’s that timely reminder that we’re capable of more than we think, that our journey isn’t over, and that even in the most challenging moments, there’s a spark of hope that can reignite our drive. It’s not just a pat on the back—it’s the kind of affirmation that empowers us to push forward, even when it feels like we’re running on empty.

For others, the loving embrace of a partner or loved one provides an entire emotional overhaul. It’s more than a hug—it’s the quiet comfort of knowing someone is holding space for you when you’re at your lowest.

A trusted friend might serve as a mirror, reflecting not just our strengths but also our blind spots. Their feedback can be the gentle nudge we need to adjust our course—like the kind of advice that helps us realize we’ve been too hard on ourselves or too complacent in a particular area. Sometimes, it’s these honest but kind conversations that reveal the areas where we need to improve or find balance, making it easier to refuel and reorient ourselves.

And sometimes, it’s a colleague—unexpectedly and profoundly—who serves as our Life Station. It’s the wisdom they share in a casual lunch conversation or the laughter they bring in a tough meeting that lightens the mood and reminds us that life, even at its busiest, still has its lighter moments.

But here’s the thing—self-care is also part of the equation. Just like we wouldn't expect a car to function well without gas, oil changes, and proper upkeep, we can’t expect ourselves to operate at our best without tending to our own needs. Maybe our check-up looks like setting boundaries, getting enough rest, eating well, or making space for things that bring us joy. Maybe it’s quiet reflection, journaling, or simply allowing ourselves a break when we need one. Maintenance isn’t just about fixing what’s broken—it’s about keeping everything running smoothly in the first place.

What’s key about these Life Stations is that they aren’t one-size-fits-all. They’re the places and people we rely on to replenish our emotional, mental, and even physical reserves. Each one serves a different role, but all contribute to our holistic well-being—helping us get back in alignment, recharge, and tackle life with renewed vigor.

Whatever or whoever your Life Station may be, don’t take it for granted. Make frequent stops for maintenance—both external and internal—just as you would for any well-loved machine. Because if we neglect these vital check-ins—if we let ourselves run on empty for too long—we risk breaking down when we need to keep going the most.

So, be diligent. Take the time to refuel, recalibrate, and reconnect. Care for yourself as intentionally as you would care for anything of value. After all, the road ahead is much smoother when we make sure we’re traveling with a full tank and at our optimal best.

©2025 LoriAnn Boyer - All Rights Reserved
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Leading with Compassion and Grace

Today marks another milestone in my journey as an HR Leader. Reflecting on my first day as a recruiting coordinator, at the mecca of consulting firms, Accenture, I can still remember the excitement I felt about starting a new job and ultimately, a new career path, despite having never spent a minute in recruiting. However, that career was nearly derailed just three months into my tenure.

I had been assigned my first major project, which I enthusiastically accepted with the eagerness and excitement of a monkey with a new banana. We were conducting a survey with a large, highly reputable university. This was back in the '90s, long before email was a staple of the office. We were conducting it the old-fashioned way—by mail. The task involved sending out a survey package to over 500 students, and it was my responsibility to ensure each package contained a letter, marketing collateral, the survey, and a return envelope. I also had to correctly upload and manage 500+ student names and addresses.

I took ownership of this project as if it were my only ticket to survival. I worked tirelessly to get everything in order and sent out, and when it was done, I allowed myself a moment of pride. I had successfully completed my first big professional girl project—or so I thought.

Three days later, my head of HR, Don Shaw, approached me in the hallway. “Hey, LoriAnn" he said with a look of curiosity in his eyes and cocking his head to the side. "Did you remember to include the return envelopes in the mailing?" he asked. My heart simultaneously raced and sank. My initial thought was, of course I had. Or... did I? I vaguely remembered seeing boxes of return envelopes in the storage closet at the beginning of the project, but in my rush to prove myself capable of handling this assignment, had I forgotten this crucial step?

Don waited for my response, and I immediately remembered a lesson my parents had instilled in me: always tell the truth, even when it’s difficult. As much as I wanted to confidently say, “Yes, I included the return envelopes. I mean, did you not see how I slayed this dragon of a project” I knew I needed to be honest. I told Don I wasn’t sure but that I would double-check.

Racing back to my office, my mind was spinning. The only way to know for sure was to check the supply closet. As I approached, I desperately hoped not to see boxes full of unused return envelopes. But when I opened the door, there they were, staring back at me, almost taunting me—a clear sign that I had indeed forgotten to include them.

I felt sick. I wanted to pack up my things, resign on the spot, and flee the scene. But instead, I sheepishly made my way to Don’s office, dreading the inevitable conversation. I knocked softly on his door, standing in the doorway, terrified. I confessed my mistake, telling him I had forgotten to include the return envelopes. In my embarrassment, I rambled, offering to fix the situation and even acknowledging that if this was grounds for dismissal, I would understand.

Don signaled me to come in and sit down. My heart sank further—surely, he was about to fire me and simply wanted to take the kill shot up close. As I sat in the large wingback chair, feeling quite diminished by its size and bracing for the worst, Don said, “I appreciate you telling me the truth. I already knew you forgot to include the return envelopes. We’ve received about 20 calls from students asking where they were.”

“I’m really sorry, Don,” I replied, feeling crushed.

“I know you are,” he said. “And yes, you will remedy this by sending out another mailing apologizing for the mistake and including the return envelopes this time.”

“Of course, whatever is needed, I’m happy to do,” I said, eager to fix the situation.

Then, Don surprised me. He said, “I know it would have been easier to tell me you included the return envelopes. But you didn’t. You came back and told me the truth, and for that, I learned something valuable about you: I can trust you to be honest. As for double-checking your work, well, that’s another story and something you’ll need to work on.”

To my relief, Don didn’t fire me that day. Had he done so, my career in HR might have ended before it even began. Instead, he offered me my first important lesson in compassion and grace. By extending compassion, Don gave me the space to grow. His decision to see beyond a single mistake and instead focus on my potential allowed me to find my footing and build a career that has spanned more than three decades.

When leaders act with grace, they communicate a belief in the worth and potential of their team members, which, in turn, inspires loyalty, creativity, and perseverance. By trusting me despite my misstep, Don instilled in me a deep understanding that people are not defined by their mistakes, but rather by how they learn and grow from them. This principle has informed my leadership style ever since.

So, thank you, Don, for not firing this eager but overzealous young professional during a significant misstep. Thank you for teaching me the value of leading with compassion and grace. Your grace in that pivotal moment not only spared my career but set the foundation for a path I never could have imagined. As such, I’ve had the privilege of building a career in HR that has brought immense fulfillment, allowing me to pay forward the same compassion and grace you showed me. It’s a lesson I carry with me in every decision, every mentorship, and every opportunity to guide others. Because of you, I strive to be the kind of leader who doesn’t just manage people but believes in them—and that has made all the difference.

 

Book of Encouragement

My mother recently gifted me several of her personal journals, and it feels like she handed me pieces of her very soul. Deeply woven into the tapestry of her life is a writer, a revelation that has illuminated the source of my own passion for writing. On the first page of one of her journals, in faintly read script, she simply and solely wrote, "Book of Encouragement." Upon reading this, my heart felt an overwhelming warmth. As I turned the pages, I found her steps to stay encouraged, each word resonating deeply within me like a gentle whisper of love and wisdom.

There’s something profoundly touching about reading the intimate thoughts, emotions, and daily musings of a loved one. Through her journals, I am discovering the hidden corners of her heart, the silent battles she fought, and how she truly saw the world and me. It feels like I’ve been given a precious gift, a glimpse into her past and the challenges she faced as a mother, wife, daughter, sister, friend, employee, and member of society.

This experience is like meeting her all over again, realizing that she had the same fears, hurts, joys, and aspirations that I have. It’s a beautiful journey, unveiling the true essence of my mother and forging an even deeper connection with her. Each page I turn reveals more about the incredible woman she was and still is in my eyes.

As I read her personal manifesto for encouragement, it further heightened my admiration for her. This is what she wrote:

• Read uplifting material and avoid discouraging conversations or news.
• Associate with positive and inspiring people.
• Believe in yourself and remind yourself of how far you’ve come.
• Keep a journal of your accomplishments and read it as often as you need.
• Consider your setbacks as profitable learning experiences.
• Ask for help when you need it.

We all have mantras, quotes, scriptures, tools, bullet points, or accountability persons we use to keep ourselves encouraged and uplifted, affording us the ability to press on and seize the day. I love that these are my mother’s. She is a woman who has faced tremendous challenges, traumas, setbacks, and, at times, unfathomable pain. She is one of the strongest women I know, and I have often drawn strength and encouragement from her. Yet, if you were to meet her, you would find her to be upbeat, positive, and radiating immeasurable resilience. Her six bullet points for staying encouraged are not just words; they are a testament to her fortitude and a guide we can all follow.

Thank you, Mom, for graciously sharing the tools that helped you stay encouraged and inspired when everything felt like it was falling apart, and for providing a roadmap that I, and hopefully others, can use. Your wisdom and strength echo more profoundly and play an amplified role in guiding me through my life’s journey. I love you! 

Ageless Ambitions: Fearlessly Pursuing Knowledge

In January, I made the decision to return to school—an aspiration that has lingered for far too long in the corridors of my mind. Why the delay? One word: fear. The prospect of diving back into the demanding realm of academia at mid-life is undeniably intimidating. The sheer time commitment required for classes, coupled with the countless hours of study and research, is ample grounds for even the most driven student to succumb to bouts of anxiety and break out in hives. Then there's the nagging question of mental acuity. Will my brain's synaptic connections recall how to absorb and retain information as effortlessly as they once did in the distant days of my youth? And what if—dare I utter it—I fail?

But what if I don't fail? What if I view the collective hours invested in classes and studying as a valuable investment in myself? What if my brain's cognitive functions kick into high gear and I rediscover a passion for learning? Remarkably, that's precisely what has transpired. With each passing week, as my confidence has swelled, I've come to the realization that I CAN DO THIS!

I've often challenged others with the quote, "The cave you fear to enter holds the treasure you seek." It was high time I heeded that very advice and charged boldly into the realm of uncertainty and challenge regardless of the age on my driver's license. Just last week, I took four tests. The subject matter is dense, and the tests themselves are unequivocally arduous. However, my scores—a resounding 100, 96, 100, and 92—served as a testament to the immense rewards that await once we muster the courage to confront our fears head-on no matter how old we are. We should never let fear, or age, hold us back from learning.

So, if you happen to come across a bleary-eyed redhead downing numerous venti espressos while muttering about HR Law to herself, extend a word of encouragement and reassure her that she's more than capable of conquering this endeavor—and remember, so are you once you take the leap to do so.

Breathe

February 4, 1998. I had been rushed to the hospital, my mind spinning at warp speed, my breathing rapid and chaotic, tears streaming down my face, and every cell in my body filled with fear and anxiety. I wanted to close my eyes and eternally surrender to the darkness that had plagued my mind.

In the ether of the turmoil, I faintly heard a voice calling out, "LoriAnn! I'm Dr. Ramos. Can you hear me? LoriAnn, can you hear me?" Slowly, I turned my head to the left, attempting to connect with the voice beckoning me. My eyes immediately met those of an attractive Latino man, dressed in a soft cashmere scarf and a dark gray sweater. It might have been the warmth exuded by his attire, coupled with the look of compassion on his face, but his mere presence brought an unexpected sense of calmness mingled with curiosity. Our eyes locked, and he gently smiled as he said, "I need you to do something."

 "Okay," I replied without hesitation, placing my immediate trust in whatever he was about to ask of me. "Breathe," he softly instructed. "Just breathe." Nodding through the tears and anxiety, and with my eyes still fixed on his, I took a deep breath in as he breathed with me. Then another breath, and another. Before long, an overwhelming sense of peace and tranquility washed over me.

"I'm Dr. Ramos," he kindly introduced himself again, still wearing a gentle smile. "Hi," I responded graciously. "Rough night?" he inquired. I nodded, crying, and said, "Rough life." “Well," he said, "we’re going to work on that together and get you feeling better. Sound good?” “Yes,” I said. “That sounds great." His words, paired with his genuine empathy, offered an instant balm for my soul, forging an immediate trust and lifelong bond. 

That night marked my initial steps toward recovery from severe anxiety and depression. Dr. Ramos and I would spend the next 18 months walking through my healing and reclaiming my mental and emotional fortitude. I’ve often said that if you x-ray my heart, you’ll see a small part where Dr. Ramos’ name is etched on it.

Sitting here 26 years later, mentally and emotionally healthy, reflecting on the terrified girl lying on that hospital stretcher, wishing to close her eyes and never open them again, I am humbled and overwhelmed with gratitude. I am immensely proud of how far she has come. Since then, I've learned that no matter how dark, scary, or painful the circumstances may be, never, ever give up. Amidst the pain and darkness, there will always be sparks of light guiding you to the other side. No matter how challenging the battle, fight, and fight hard, because you are worth it.

Dr. Ramos changed my life with a single word: 'Breathe.' It was a simple yet profoundly powerful reminder of how to calm my mind and soothe my soul. Our lives begin and end with a breath. I am grateful for the billions of breaths I've taken since that harrowing day. They haven't always been easy, but they were mine to have and meant to be had.

Here's to the frightened girl who, 26 years ago, bravely affirmed she was enough and worth the fight, and who discovered the transformative power in learning how to truly breathe. Every day and every breath since has been a precious gift.