lajendi

A Spring Sunday

     I've just come in from reading in the backyard as the light slowly disappeared. The lilac bush in the far corner of the yard spreads it's scent up to the patio and the bugs aren't yet out in full force. At bedtime the kids came out to kiss me goodnight, Baby even took her binki out to give me a proper kiss. I finished the last few chapters of a book that was good for distraction and leisure. It was a beautiful, peaceful evening to end a gorgeous spring Sunday. A day you don't want to end, as if you could hold onto  sun and the scent of lilacs. 

  

     The last week has been very full, active with underlying concerns. But I've been reluctant to write about my worries, not knowing what parts are mine to tell. 

    There's been potty training with Baby. I wanted to do it before fostering started. Although I realize that regression is a possibility if sharing mommy with a foster sibling is too traumatic. That's OK, as I told the social worker, we have a carpet cleaner. I'm taking potty training with a more relaxed attitude than before. I'm concerned about my peace of mind, and Baby's. It's comforting to be aware of my limits, while at the same time not frightened or self-conscious about them.  Baby is doing well, "tinkling" in the potty about once a day and still farting every time she attempts. Where all that gas comes from I don't know. 

    My little sister has had some changes in her life, job change, living situation change. I'm hopeful that it will all lead her to better things. That's how life has happened for me anyway - it's too scary to jump out of a sure thing into the unknown, so God takes away the sure thing so that we have no choice but to jump. Finding out that the new is better takes time and faith, but somehow it is better eventually. 

    My Daddy has a doctor appointment. I keep saying that's all it is and everything will be fine. 

    You know, I've lost very few close family members. My grandma died when I was just a baby. While I've missed not knowing her, I didn't feel the actual loss. When her husband, my grandpa died a few years ago it was sad, but right. His body was not a fitting shelter for his vibrant spirit any longer. My sister-in-law passed away very young, it was so hard to watch my brother loose her. I felt like I barely had time to know her. 

     A few weeks ago I asked my Mom the age of her parents. "Grandpa is 89!" she said. 'That's old', I thought,'people die in their 90s' and I took a slow, deep breath. That's how blessed I am, my family lives so long, I think the 90s are when people die. Not like anyone ever dies when they're younger. 

   Today I prayed for my Auntie Edith. She's been one of my most loyal blog readers. Even though she rarely comments, I know she's there keeping in touch from far away. A closer relationship with her has been one of my great blessings of blogging.

      She's in the hospital, was in the ICU. When I spoke to her today she was in the step down unit, meaning that she's getting better. We had a really wonderful talk, her description of feeling the prayers for her is a realization that I treasure. She told me how prayers that are offered are felt by the recipient and heard in the heavens. Although those we love pass through difficult things, the love and peace of God is a real comfort unlike any other. Thankfully many of those prayers are also being answered by her church family who have sat at her bedside, cared for her kitties and garden, and made her feel loved through service that I'm too distant to give. Her description of their service has inspired me to be more diligent in serving and praying for those in need where I am. 

     I prayed for my aunt to feel hopeful, to have the support she needs to heal. How surprised I was to be supported and taught of hope by her. She has a long recovery ahead, I am amazed by her fortitude, hope and testimony. 

    These are my 'out of reach' concerns. My family is so far away, I prefer not to realize the immensity of how far - I could never walk. Their problems are still real to me, tugging at my heart as I go about my day. The tears I couldn't stop in church today were for them. There is a tie with family, blood and sinew holding hearts and spirits together through the miles and the problems. I am far away but you are not far from my thoughts. 

Trying to be Perfect in an Imperfect World -Or- Why Going Off Sugar is Meaningless Torture

     After that title do I really need to write a post? That pretty much sums it up, but I'll elaborate and share my brand of crazy with you. Bear with me, in the end all this yammering will relate to sugar abstinence.

     First let's agree that we're not perfect. Nobody with their feet firmly on planted on earth at this moment has it all together. We're all individuals so what kind of imperfect we are varies. 

     As a mother, a woman trying to help her family, part of my job is to spot imperfection and put an end to it. Dirty pants? Wash em'. Crying Baby? Put her to bed. Overgrown Apple tree? Trim it. Seven year old whining for cookies? Feed it dinner. Mom the problem solver. 

     Moms get something out of being the "fixer"- Control. We decide what kind of dirty pants the child is wearing and how they'll be washed. We decide what sort of bedtime routine Baby will have and when. We decide if the apple tree is allowed to be tall, wide, or gone. We decide what the family will eat for dinner, how it is prepared, and when it will be. Moms are in the driver's seat. 

     Problem is, everyone's imperfect, the earth itself isn't even perfect. We're surrounded by stuff that needs fixing, stuff that needs cleaning, or people that need managing. There is an inexhaustible supply of messes. As a mom it's easy to focus on the messes, to get out our microscope and never put it away. "There's a problem - FIX IT!" the mother cries. This is the kind of craziness that leads a mom to go off sugar for two weeks. 

     This life is not just about fixing problems, although it is a part of what we're doing here. Working out our salvation. Trying to make everything right myself leaves out critical players - Christ and God. The plan is not for us to do everything perfectly and live our lives in harmony and peace - not possible. But that is what most mothers are striving for! Which is why mothers are often overwhelmed and depressed about their jobs - the goal they set is impossible. 

       I struggle with the line between my personal responsibility and the grace of God. When the scriptures say that we are saved after all we can do, what exactly is all I can do? There is a story from my high school days which gives a little too much insight into why this is an issue for me. (I'm going out on a huge limb here, so be gentle with me.)

     My senior year of high school I was invited to participate in the Homecoming Queen Pageant. This was not my thing, but I wanted the scholarship money so I was talked into it. Once I threw my hat in the ring I went after it (while still pretending to be non-nonchalant about it)- had a dress made (nothing with shiny fabric or sequins), made a slideshow of my artwork and set it to music, and even put on some makeup. 

    In preparing for the pageant I was advised to talk about my artwork in addition to showing it. I didn't want to, it was too personal, too hard to put into words. It wasn't just a scapegoat though, I had seen my art mean different things to different people and I didn't want to tell anyone what they should be seeing or feeling.  So I stuck with pictures and music. 

     The day of the pageant comes and all goes well, until my slideshow - the music wasn't cued properly so it didn't start until halfway through the slideshow. At that point there wasn't anything I could do, so I kept going. I did not win the pageant, but several of the judges told me that they wondered why the music started where it did and that my scores were high enough that I could have won if I had talked about my art. They probably thought they were putting salve on my wounds, when really it felt like they were insensitively probing a fresh wound. I had tried something new and failed. Then I was told if I had just done more I could have been successful. 

     In that situation I made a judgment call about what was enough and I was wrong. Hello - here we are almost 20 years later and I'm still trying to figure out what is enough and erring on the side of too much.

      Now's the part where I tie together these threads of perfectionism, trusting God, the Homecoming Pageant, and sugar deprivation. 

     Sugar is everywhere. Try going off of it for one day, just a day, and see what I mean. It is everywhere and in everything. Soda billboards by the library, leftover peanut butter squares (like I used to have in elementary school, with the layer of chocolate) from the kid's activity, hershey kisses in the freezer, granola bars, vitamin water, lunch specials, family bonding time, after school snacks, EVERYWHERE! Not eating sugar takes near-constant vigilence and it's making me crazy and grumpy. I am not feeling any physical benefits. 

     Obviously stepping away from perfectionism is a problem for me, yet I still choose a very perfectionist goal. Know the biggest reason I decided to do this? (and I haven't even told DH this yet) I have a doctor appointment in two weeks and I don't want to see the scale numbers higher than they were last time. I want to please the doctor so he won't give me a lecture about diet and exercise. I know all about diet and exercise, I exercise regularly. It's the food that's so hard for me. I don't want to be called out for not doing enough. The cry for "MORE" when I'm already doing all I can makes me crying crazy. 

    To get over these issues it is clear that I must begin consuming sugar again ;) There is a peanut butter square calling my name. Should I answer?

Not Even Trying

     I've half-heartedly been trying to potty train Baby. This time around I don't want the power struggle so we're taking it at her pace. She knows all the mechanics, she even willingly washes her hands. The problem is that she only farts when she sits on the potty. Until yesterday. 

     DH and I had a foster class in the afternoon so I took Baby to a friend's house for babysitting. When I dropped her off I took her into the bathroom to do a quick diaper change before I left. While in there Baby wanted to use the potty, I said sure. SHE ACTUALLY TINKLED! It was very exciting! While my friend, her mom, and I were whooping it up and praising Baby she just looked at us like it was no big deal.

    The thing I'm amazed at is that she went when we weren't even trying. I hadn't asked if she needed to go, no recent potty talks, nothing. It just happened. I think that happens in my life as a mother more often than I'd like to admit. I can push to try and make things happen, stressing everyone in the process, but it just happens when it happens. There's no pushing the timetable.  

   The follow-up is that today nothing was produced on the potty. Instead she farted in my face when I changed her poopy diaper. 

    Being a mom is so glamorous. 

Weak

 

     Fasting is a contradiction for me. Obviously going without food is difficult, this seems to be one of the purposes in fasting - doing something that is difficult in obedience and for a purpose. On the other hand, we are told not to fast if it will endanger our bodies, breastfeeding/pregnancy, diabetes, etc. 

     So my question is, what if I feel so horrible when I fast that I can't function? At some point during my fast, usually late afternoon, I begin to get a migraine headache, dizzy, and faint. At this point I'm determined to see through an entire 24 hour fast but I'm feeling horridly, just wanting to go to bed and die, so instead I eat. I feel better and then am able to make dinner for everyone. Am I sinning because I physically cannot go a full 24 hours without food or water? 

     Ironically, during my fast I picked up the book, Weakness Is Not Sin,  by Wendy Ulrich. I've been slowly working through this book, taking the time to ponder each chapter for a while before I move on to the next. Today I read this, 

"It seems sometimes that so much of life is about finding the fine lines between laziness and moderation, between sin and weakness, between Spirit and our own thoughts, between confidence and pride, between humility and humiliation. But at least it is a start to know that there is in fact a difference and that the difference is worth exploring."

     These are thoughts that I've thought about often in my life, knowing where to draw the line between extremes. 

 

      In one of the areas mentioned in that quote I have a little experience and think I've come to understand more than I did in the past-  'between the Spirit and our own thoughts'. There have been times in my life that I yearned to feel the Spirit more strongly, to be led, to gain the kind of confidence that can only come through intimate association with the Holy Ghost. Through the years I feel that I have developed a relationship with the Spirit (nothing extraordinary, this is available to everyone) through acting on the promptings I've received. 

     When I receive what I think is a prompting and act on it, I enjoy the fruits of the Spirit. When I am at peace and understand that the promptings of the Spirit are always in harmony with the gospel, I can determine if the feelings and impressions I have are just my own thoughts or are something more. It is something that is probably different for every person, developing this fine tuned repertoire with the Holy Ghost. I'm not perfect at it, but because I've worked on it daily through many years it is something I can depend on, and do. 

     Developing this blessing in my life took time and was gained through experience. Which is one of the reasons I am here - to learn. This life is not just for us to prove to God that we will be obedient, it's not only about sin, or the lack of it. Life is also about the experiences we have, the grey areas between extremes. Labeling the grey areas as black or white blinds us to reality, how things really are. It disables our learning. 

     So back to my weak version of fasting... I wouldn't say I'm sinning by eating 2 hours early when I know the Lord asks me to fast longer than that. My mortally imperfect body is just too weak to do it. On the other hand I can do things to enable a fast, not just throw up my hands and eat all day. I could be sure to take my vitamins and drink plenty of water the day before fasting, and eat healthy meals to 'bank' nutrients my body will need the next day. If I try those things and they don't work there are other things I could do. I could fast from food but not water. I could fast from eating certain kinds of foods. I had a friend who would fast from eating sweets when she was pregnant and couldn't participate in a full fast. The important thing is not the black or white observance of God's request to fast, but the ways in which I strive for obedience or go to him to humbly asking for mercy because I'm too weak to accomplish it on my own.

      I think this is part of what is meant when we are told that God won't give us anything we can't handle - not because we are that strong, but because there is always mercy, God makes up the difference. We may be asked to make a dinner for 50 people and then burn it. It's not that God asked us to do something we couldn't handle, it's that through his mercy burning the food doesn't matter - it is not a sin. 

     Trying to understand these issues of sin and weakness are important to me because I think I waste too much time worrying about my weaknesses when I could be overcoming sin and serving others. Guilt is a debilitating force and all too often the guilt that overwhelms me is concerning a weakness, not a sin. How sad to debilitate ourselves with a sense of sin and failure when that is not reality. 

"Please don’t nag yourself with thoughts of failure. Do not set goals far beyond your capacity to achieve. Simply do what you can do, in the best way you know, and the Lord will accept of your effort." President Gordon B. Hinckley

Parental Departure

     My parents flew back to Utah today (and boy are their arms tired! Sorry, had to say it.) The ILs went back on Tuesday. It is a weird thing to have family visit, we still have things that need to be done - diaper changes, getting up at 5 am for seminary, grocery shopping, laundry, etc.-  but we were on an altered/vacation sort of mode. 

 

     Last night my parents watched the kids so that DH and I could go to a retirement party for one of his co-workers. We had a few quiet minutes to talk and of course the subject of our parents came up. I told him that while interacting with our parents the last few days and seeing how different they are I'm kind of amazed that our marriage has worked out so well. (FOR THE RECORD: Everyone was lovely, there was no hair pulling, or fist fights. People are just different, not wrong or right, good or bad, but different.) 

     When DH and I got married I had only been away from home one year. Looking back on that 19 year old (yikes!) girl I see her as very much a product of her home environment. I think that's what most parents think will happen. That's why we try to be good parents, we believe that we have a huge impact on our children. 

     In the .2 seconds between the time I asked that question and DH answered me, he came up with a perfect answer- "I married you for who you are, you. Not the product of your environment, but who you are as an individual." His answer allows me to be me, allows my parents to be who they are, and his parents to be who they are, without guilt, judgment, or implied black and white labels. 

     What I said about parents before probably isn't true. As parents we don't believe that children are simply a product of their home environment - we hope and pray that our children will ignore our faults and take the best things we have to offer and move forward into their futures equipped with something valuable. 

John, Karla, Gary and Chris - Thank you for everything. 

CPR and Swimming

     A few days ago (maybe a week) I posted about our lives being a house of cards. This week things have been shaken and turned around as the kids were out of school and family visited. I had to change my workout schedule, fitting in exercise when I could find a few minutes. Some meals have been afterthoughts while others are major productions (Easter). We've spent a whole day at home (watching conference), and we've spent most of a day away (Valley Forge). With all of this I sit here thinking about what is upcoming in my life. I have tender feelings with a strength behind them, making me feel that no matter what happens to my house of cards, other things are more certain.

     One of those certain things is my ability to choose. Despite horrid things that may happen - earthquakes, floods, termites- I choose what to do in those situations. I have no more control over my daily life than I do those other large horrific scenarios, yet I still carry on each day without cowering in the corner (only for a few minutes anyway). I have power, not because I can control things, but because I control myself. 

     Making informed choices based on truth and self-control leads to capability. That capability, the ability to make things happen, is a kind of power. Let me give an example - Tonight DH and I watched a CPR video for foster parenting certification. If I were to be in a situation where a child needed CPR I could administer it because I've learned true things about how to help someone who is not breathing and I would make that choice to help despite any initial discomfort about germs or saliva. In that very specific and dramatic situation I would have power, power to sustain or revive life. 

     Now I'm not saying that makes me god and I'm so great. What I am saying is that yes, there is a lot out of my control (like the need for a child to be resuscitated in the first place), but there is also a lot within my control if I make use of it. If I train my body to submit to my mind (blow into this child's mouth, now gently press on their chest) then my mind and body are prepared to work together to accomplish other things that may initially be uncomfortable, like performing CPR. It applies to loosing weight(not easy, but doable), not yelling at my kids (not easy, still trying), or building a strong marriage (not easy, so worth it). Call this self-reliance, self-control, self-mastery, all the labels apply. 

      The truth is a large factor here. Having the self-discipline to clean out the garage means nothing if I mistakenly believe that moving all the junk to the other side makes the garage clean. I have to know that cleaning is more than that, the "truth" about what makes something clean. Just like I have to know actual CPR to keep a dying person alive, not just poke and prod at them. 

     I hope I haven't lost anyone (it is the end of a long day and I'm probably rambling and not coherent). Most people would agree with my ideas about our abilities to control our lives at some level. We have power to choose and to act. The piece that is sometimes missing is how that relates with what God does. 

     It is tempting to use our power to control too much in our lives. If we want to keep our lives on an even keel, nothing changing, even and controlled, steady as she goes, don't rock the boat, don't topple my house of cards - we could probably do that, and we often try. I don't think that that is necessarily what God wants. He doesn't just rock the boat, he pushes us out of it. Our lives are not about control. I'm saying that again because it is so very important - The purpose of our lives is not to control. We can control ourselves, and that is a part of success and happiness, but not an end in itself.

     Getting back into the boat every time God pushes us out of it is not productive. At some point we might want to just swim and find out why God keeps pushing us out. 

     This was all a very long way for me to say that I trust God. Yes, he's pushed me out of the boat several times. It's my guess that being a foster parent is going to be like getting pushed out of an 8-story cruise ship. I trust him, if he wants me to swim,  he'll help me. If I'm swimming it's because he's given me opportunities to learn to swim before and I took advantage of them. It's that initial push off the deck into the water I'm worried about. Really, I'm looking forward to a good swim with hope and optimism. It's a good thing I know CPR though, I might need to perform it on myself.  

       Tell me you'll be there with a life preserver when I need it.  

Secrets are Good..?

     I am an open person- heart on my sleeve, ask me anything. This is pretty obvious here on the blog. I've always felt that there are very few legitimate reasons for keeping a secret. Of course, as these things go, I'm learning why secrets can be good. 

     People think they know who you are and what your life is about if they know a few things about you. This blog is an example. I do write about many things in my life here, but not ALL of my life. That would be impossible. My life is active and vibrant, so many things happen in a day that it would be impossible to write about all of them (even Twitter isn't sufficient). Everyone's life is this way, not just mine. 

     Because I have specific thoughts one day, it doesn't mean I'll still feel the same way 3 days later. (This is one of the many reasons gossip is so horrid and I try to steer clear of it.) This concept of personal change applies to every area of life. Just because one day I'm feeling a little down and remembering my depression and try to share it with others as a means of help, doesn't mean that I'm falling into a depression now. My words, my thoughts, are not ME. Your words, your thoughts are not YOU. We change every moment as we interact with our surroundings and make choices. No one is static. 

     What bothers me is when people use these temporarily expressed thoughts, feelings, and experiences to determine who I am, or who another person is. Yes, we use these pieces of information to understand a person, but those thoughts or experiences are not the definition of that person. Back to the example of depression - I once was a woman suffering from depression. Even then I wasn't a "depressed woman", I was a woman fighting the affliction of depression. Even now I am not a "recovering depressive", I'm a woman who battled depression in the past and now knows how to deal with it personally. 

      This applies to other areas as well. I am about to become a foster mom. That doesn't change who I am, I am ME, I am not "foster mom". The assumption of a new role doesn't automatically change a person. Because I'll have a few life changes involved with taking care of children doesn't mean I won't go to bookgroup, can't help people outside my home, or never want to paint again (or am a saintly angel, that's laughable). It's lazy to push people into stereotypes and leave them there - especially when you interact with those people in real life (IRL) and can effect their lives and their family. 

     This is one reason I'm so hesitant to share my blog with people I interact with IRL - it changes what they think of me, they think they know all of me because they read the blog and think it is ME. 

     Yesterday at our foster interview the agency rep said that information about foster kids should not be posted on the internet, facebook, or twitter. I nodded my head and said "OK" while I mentally clicked off the list of foster blogs on the internet who currently do just that. I want to share my experiences, but the kids deserve privacy, and not just because it's a law (HIPA). Their experiences don't define them either and I would HATE for any of them to be labeled or treated differently because someone who knows me and interacts with the kids IRL reads this blog. 

 

     So I have to think about all of this, what I'm going to do. I don't know, I haven't decided. I enjoy blogging, connecting with strangers through the internet and letting my far flung friends and family know what is happening in my life. But it's that in-between crowd I'm not so sure about. Do I need to take my blog strictly private? Meaning, I'd create a new blog with an alias where I could post with made-up names and places. I would inform my closest friends and family  so they could keep up with me. Then I'd never utter a word about my blog to anyone IRL. This scenario makes me sad, but the temptation is all too strong for people to gossip, to tell others about the blog who then lurk and then gossip more. Their talk effects our church life, our community life, our personal lives. It gets ugly and messy and I don't like it. 

.

Sometimes secrets are necessary. There is a reason God didn't give us the ability to read minds. 

Non-Fiction or Fiction?

Last week I finished reading Three Cups of Tea. A lovely non-fiction book about a man building schools in Afghanistan and Pakistan. All well and good. Except that reading it felt like pulling teeth. It was supposed to be my leisure reading. 

When I can't finish a non-fiction book I feel like a doofus. I'm not a doofus, my brain works well and I exercise it nearly every day (it takes Saturdays and holidays off). Remember The Omnivore's Dilemma? I really liked it and wanted to read all of it. Didn't happen. Weakness is Not Sin, a great book that I've hardly cracked open. Even when I check non-fiction out from the library that contains info I need and want, I only scan and read applicable info. 

Some of this is because many non-fiction books out there should be half as long as they are. It seems that the authors are pushed to publish before they're ready but need to have a book that is a certain length. So they over explain and get wordy. 

Really, the reason I have such a difficult time with non-fiction is that I read to get a break from life, to enjoy and relax. It's not enjoyable or relaxing to be guilted about children in Pakistan that don't have schools which some say is the cause of terrorism. I'm reminded of similar horrid facts when I read the newspaper, watch the news, or surf the net. Add to that the textbooks I read for school, and the scriptures, and I'm full up on non-fiction. My life is non-fiction, every day, all day. I need a break from non-fiction, not more of it. What I need is more fiction in my life. Just because we grow up doesn't mean we should stop playing pretend. 

 

Any fiction recommendations?

Eternal Life

Today I talked in church. Ok, I talk at church every week, my reverence needs some work - I blame the kids. 

Seriously though... I was asked to speak in church about eternal life, a very broad topic. (In our church members of the congregation speak instead of a pastor giving a sermon.) Usually I can judge how my talk went by the comments I get afterwards. If that really is a true indicator then I taught a few gems about being a rebellious teenager. 

My speaking technique is to have a written general outline with a few quotes and scriptures, then tie those ideas together in my own words at the spur of the moment. This leaves the door open for the holy spirit to prompt, or conversely, for me to make a fool of myself. Apparently today I made myself out to be a regular James Dean (Rebel Without a Cause), I'll let you decide if that was the spirit or the fool. 

My recollection (which could be clouded by nerves and missing breakfast) is that while speaking about the need for obedience, I mentioned that as a teenager I was rebellious, that my parents used reverse psychology on me and it worked well. Then I said that I've learned through hard experience, the school of hard knocks, that the commandments are for our good and happiness. I ended the tangent with gratitude for repentance. That is it! 30 seconds of a 10-15 minute talk. Now I'm defending myself with references to polishing my halo. 

All joking aside, I really don't care if people know that I was a rebellious teenager. Although I actually had a few well behaved years in there too. Thinking about it now I wonder if those people who are surprised by my rebellious streak just don't know me very well. Ask DH, he'll tell you I'm rebellious. It's just that now that I'm older I forge ahead with what is right even if I might think about getting a motorcycle, a henna tattoo, and living as a starving artist (joking again, I think).  

I've learned to trust God more than my own instincts because my rebellious instincts have gotten me into some messes. I believe that God loves me and that while his commandments may seem constrictive there are far more things we can do with him as our guide and protector than when we try every vice available. I found rebellion for rebellion's sake to be extremely self-destructive.

In short, I've found this statement to be true:

“Regardless of our age and stage in life, daily obedience to gospel principles is the only sure way to eternal happiness. President Ezra Taft Benson put it most poignantly when he said, 'When obedience ceases to be an irritant and becomes our quest, in that moment God will endow us with power.'” -Donald L. Staheli

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There is a great post at MW today by someone you might know...

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Here are a few other quotes I used in my talk - good stuff!

“The Savior’s perfect submission to the Eternal Father is the very essence of a broken heart and a contrite spirit. Christ’s example teaches us that a broken heart is an eternal attribute of godliness. When our hearts are broken, we are completely open to the Spirit of God and recognize our dependence on Him for all that we have and all that we are… Those who have a broken heart and a contrite spirit are willing to do anything and everything that God asks of them, without resistance or resentment. We cease doing things our way and learn to do them God’s way instead.” Bruce D. Porter, 

“We cannot stand idly by, being merely an interested spectator, rather than a participating member, and still receive the blessing of eternal life. It is our duty to gain an appropriate witness and testimony which will change and improve our lives for good.” Delbert L. Stapley

Joseph Smith tells us that “happiness is the object and design of our existence; and will be the end thereof, if we pursue the path which leads to it.” (Teachings of the Prophet Joseph Smith, p. 255.)

"All that I am I owe to..."

Today a young woman at church said something that changed my attitude. I have to explain a few things first, before you can understand why her words changed me. 

The last few weeks it's felt like I have two jobs. My main job is being a stay at home mom. Most of you have a pretty good idea of all that it entails, no pay, physical and mental strain, complaints galore, and no set works hours accompanied by bountiful blessings and joy (although only after you've pulled out all your hair). My church service has amped up in the last few weeks and has felt like a part-time job, which I also don't get paid for, and is accompanied by bountiful blessings and joy. 

I enjoy service (also here), it is critical to my spiritual and emotional well-being. I especially enjoy working with youth, right now my focus is in the Young Women's program. Sometimes the scale of balance is tilted a little too far in that direction though, so that my personal and family time are lacking. It's not that anyone is making me do this service, it is my choice. If I feel overwhelmed at any time I can speak up and step back. The problem is that I see the good in it, I feel good when I do it, and I want to do it. Too often I only see that I've overdone it after I've done it. 

This week was one of those times - I felt overwhelmed and unbalanced, as did my family. Kids don't come out and tell you that they feel neglected, instead their issues flare up until you are forced to realize something isn't right. Nothing serious mind you, but when J. took to wearing his snow boots to school every day because his sneakers didn't fit and I hadn't taken the time to buy new ones... well that's a sign my priorities were skewed (the snow has largely melted). 

I have personal warning signs too. Being easily irritated is a clue that I need to take a breather. Complaining about my work load in every conversation I have is another sign. Remembering my schedule of church meetings better than my kid's school schedule is a good one also. But the bad attitude, the irritation, sometimes feels like the worst of all the side effects because it colors my faith in a negative light. When in fact the fault lies with me. The problem isn't that the church expects too much, the problem is that it is hard to prioritize because priorities change every day, sometimes moment by moment.

So now that you understand my mental state as I went to church today I'll tell you what the young woman said that changed my attitude. 

This woman is 19 years old and from Haiti. Her entire life has been one full of trials. In the recent earthquake there she lost friends and family members. When it happened she admitted that she felt angry, wondering why her life has to be so full of these large trials - why she had to loose loved ones after all she's already suffered through. As she thought about her challenges she realized that God had been with her through all of them. He is there for her in every circumstance so it's OK. She knows that those she loves are in a better place now. 

I thought to myself what a strong woman she is, it left me awed. Then she said, "I am so grateful for the Young Women's Program, it has had such an impact on my life. All I am I owe to the Young Women's Program." 

Her statement instantly cured my bad attitude about the amount of service I've recently given. It can be too easy to focus on the meetings and details of the work and forget that this is the real business of saving souls and improving lives. It isn't often that I hear the results of my service in such a clear way. It put wind in my sails and helped me to see that the constant struggle to juggle priorities is worth it. It was payday!