Over a year ago, I met up with
Apryl and
Jeanette from my book exchange for lunch. Our conversations covered many topics, but the one I remember the most was "things we never want to speak about in Sacrament Meeting."
Apryl and I both agreed that we don't do "motherhood." We both love being moms, but we don't want to get up in front of a congregation and try to speak appropriately about it. After all, you can't say "poop" at the pulpit, and you shouldn't really swear, either.
Last year, a lady from church asked me to speak for a few minutes at our weeknight Relief Society meeting. The topic was "nurturing young children," and I had to laugh because that falls under the category of "motherhood." I agreed to speak, knowing that it would be okay if I said "poop" outside of the chapel (I ended up not mentioning poop, just throw up).
When I got to the activity, I was surprised when all of the other speakers started talking about family traditions. Never, in all of the conversations I had leading up to the event, was the word "tradition" mentioned, so I had prepared something entirely different. I was second-to-last of seven speakers, so I spent the entire time trying to decide if I should abandon what I prepared and talk about traditions. In the end, I decided to stand by what I had prepared because I had prayed about it and felt good about it.
While I was studied the Book of Mormon from a mothering perspective last year, the message I shared that night came back to me, so I decided I would share it with you.
As I thought about raising young children, I pondered some of the lessons I have learned that will continue to carry me through all stages of nurturing.
{via}
The first lesson is that sometimes we just need to laugh it off.
Being a mom is really
really hard, and I can't imagine how much harder it would be if we didn't have some comic relief. Marjorie Pay Hinckley said,
"If we can't laugh at life, we are in big trouble!"
One night, early in my pregnancy with Zoe, I wasn't feeling well. Scotty was gone, and it was getting close to bed time, so I told the kids that if they got their pajamas on and brushed their teeth, I would let them watch Qubo for a little while. I ended up having to run to the bathroom to throw up (sorry... it is what it is), and when I was done, I found Nicky dressed in his pajamas, as requested, but Daisy has disappeared.
I called out, "Daisy, where are you?" to which she replied, "I'm in your bed!"
I walked in my room, and there she was...
Completely naked...
Wrapped in my quilt...
Laying on my pillow...
Eating a bratwurst.
There was an undiapered bum on my sheet, and there were little greasy finger prints all over the place. I felt a hint of frustration, but I was also overcome with laughter.
What else could I do? It was one of those situations where I could either chuckle or sob, so I let myself laugh.
The second lesson is the importance of recognizing the Lord's tender mercies in our daily lives.
We have the sacred responsibility of raising Heavenly Father's children, and He isn't going to leave us to do that alone. We are given special individualized blessings, assurances, spiritual gifts, and guidance to help us along the way.
When I had pertussis last year, I woke up one day at 4:00 in the morning having a coughing fit. Around 6:00, my kids came wandering downstairs. I was tired and wanted to go back to sleep for a while, so I gave the kids granola bars and chocolate milk and parked them in front of PBS. I went back upstairs to lay down. About 45 minutes later, I woke up laying on my side and was about to roll onto my back when suddenly I got the impression that I shouldn't move. I reached behind my back and was shocked to discover that my entire torso was lined with grapes (courtesy of Daisy).
If I had rolled over, I would have made wine!
I can't imagine what a horrible sensation it would have been to feel those grapes crushing under my back at 6:45 in the morning. It may sound silly, but I truly believe that that was a tender mercy from my Heavenly Father.
Elder David A. Bednar said that
"...The tender mercies of the Lord are real and... they do not occur randomly or merely by coincidence. Often, the Lord's timing of His tender mercies helps us to both discern and acknowledge them."
What a comfort it is to know that we can have a companionship with our Heavenly Father when we are raising children.
The third lesson is that, perhaps, we mothers are not as terrible as we think.
As women and mothers, we are so prone to feelings of inadequacy. We compare ourselves to others, and we tend to be really hard on ourselves. It's so easy to feel like we aren't good enough, strong enough, or capable enough, especially when the standards are set so high. Young mothers tend to fear that they're doing everything wrong. Older mothers tend to look back and think they should have done things differently.
Quite a while ago I was having "one of those days." I felt horrible about myself, and I spent a significant amount of time stewing over all of my weaknesses. I couldn't figure out how I would ever succeed at raising my children.
As I sat on the couch, mid-mommy-tantrum, a scripture from the Book of Mormon came to mind:
"...If all men had been, and were, and ever would be like unto Moroni, behold the very powers of hell would have been shaken forever; yea, the devil would never have power over the hearts of the children of men." (Alma 48:17)
Then the Spirit posed a question:
If all mothers were like unto you, how would that be?
And my immediate response was
Are you kidding me?!? That would be horrible!!!
But then I realized that I take pretty good care of my kids. I keep them fed and clothed. I read to them and sing to them. I tell them I love them. I hug and kiss them. I don't abuse them. I do everything I can to watch our for their well-being. I make a lot of mistakes, and I'm nowhere near perfect, but if I were the worst-case scenario - meaning that all other mothers were the same or better than me - this world might be a pretty decent place.
Sure, there would be a lot of food in everyone's beds, but that's just comic relief, right?
So, think about it: if every mother were like
you, what would that be like?
Would every mother have a testimony of Jesus Christ?
Communicate to God through prayer?
Teach her kids to be honest and kind?
Would every mother know the importance of home and family?
Those are the small and simple things that can shake the very powers of hell, and a mother who can do that can't be all that bad.
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This post is the final installment of my series, "Mothering and the Book of Mormon." Other posts from this series can be found here:
To learn more about why I wrote this series, please read
this. To learn more about the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, check out
Mormon.org or
LDS.org.
Did you know you can request a Book of Mormon for free? No joke! See
here.
I'll even send you one if you want. Marginalia included.
{fluentbrittish [at] gmail [dot] com}
I won't even try to baptize you!
