After we think we have done enough

This post is part of the General Conference Odyssey. This week covers the Saturday Afternoon Session of the April 1979 Conference.
I remember one winter evening many years ago. I had a colicky baby, a gaping fear of the future, too little sleep, and a shaky marriage. I felt so alone. I was driving in the car, crying, with said colicky baby screaming in the backseat, and I thought, "Okay, that's it. I'm done with this life. I'm ready to go. Do you hear that, Heavenly Father? I can't do this for one more day."

I pulled into an empty lot to let my tears take over, and…waited. With a feeling of, I don't know, expectation, feeling like it was God's move now. But as I kept sitting there and my sobs wore themselves out and I stared out at the darkening sky, the expectant feeling was replaced with something like sheepishness. I didn't quite know what to do next. I'd made my dramatic statement, I'd cried till I couldn't cry anymore and now…well, nothing was different. And much as I wanted to be done with it all…here I still was. Eventually I sighed a shuddering sigh, and turned the car back on, and drive home, and put the baby and myself to bed. And that is maybe the first time I realized that what I saw as "all I could handle" didn't really bear any relation to what I could actually handle.

I guess I was a little bit mad, that night, not to have had something dramatic happen. At least a sign that God even acknowledged how fed up I was! But there was nothing. Or maybe (more likely) I just couldn't feel it right then. Still, over the next weeks and months and years I have often thought back to that night (and others like it). But now I don't feel mad about it. I feel amazed. I think, "My goodness, how did Heavenly Father know that I COULD do more; I COULD endure more? I didn't know that about MYSELF—but He knew, and waited patiently, and watched me do it."

The main feeling I have now is gratitude, that God didn't give up on me when I was ready to give up on myself. Even that one night later became something I looked back on for courage. "I endured that, I can endure this!"

Elder Hartman Rector, Jr., said:
Surely, in the work of the Lord, it is what we do after we think we have done enough that really counts with him, for that’s when the blessings flow.
It's a hard thing to hear when you're exhausted and worried and sad. And I'm pretty sure that if we got to choose when we left this life, we'd all consider leaving it long before we got to the best parts. (My heart breaks for people that DO choose to leave early. But I know God has a plan for their happiness, as well.) I'm just so glad that Heavenly Father sees further than we do. He sees our future happiness and joy, and He sees strength in us we can't see in ourselves. And while I'm sure He cries with us as we cry, He probably also can't help being excited for us to discover who we really are, as we go far past the time when WE think we have "done enough." Because that really is when the blessings flow.


Other posts in this series:
2
2 comments Filed under: ,

Little friends

I got these little gingham dresses on end-of-season clearance and I've had them in my cedar chest for a year or so. I got them out on Valentine's Day, and the girls said, "Mmm, smells like presents!" I do often store presents in that cedar chest.

It was a warm enough day to tiptoe outside for a quick picture—not warm enough to stay out there, though!
Teddy had a new bunny coat for his birthday.
Ziggy was wearing this sweater-y red suit, and Goldie ran and got out her sweater-y bunny dress (which is really getting too small, but…we can't let go). Then they were twins!
She succeeded in keeping Ziggy's hands out of his mouth…only sometimes.
Darling little twins.
Ziggy's been a little sick and bleary, but he's so patient with it. And he can't really sit up like this—he's propped, and will fall over shortly.
Teddy wanted to hold Baby Zig too!
3
3 comments

The cure for spiritual and emotional disease

This post is part of the General Conference Odyssey. This week covers the Saturday Morning Session of the April 1979 Conference.
Any time something terrible happens in the world, like it did last week with the school shooting in Florida, it seems like All The Opinions come out. Even someone like me who avoids "the news" can't help but be overwhelmed with articles, opinions, recriminations, etc. And obviously everyone is looking for some sort of answer to such evil. I've read articles on social aspects, psychological aspects, and legal aspects of such events—and (with the exception of a few ridiculous arguments accusing the "other side" of pure malice and idiocy) it seems like they all just reinforce the conclusion that there are no simple answers.

Or are there?

I couldn't help but think about this as I read President Kimball talking about fortifying our homes against evil:
We are constantly seeking ways to strengthen families and bless children, and that commitment will be continued and reinforced this year and in all the years to come.

The Church welcomes the concerns of others to achieve these beneficial ends through appropriate means. We again are reemphasizing, however, that the greatest blessing we can give our own children and that can be extended to all the children of the world will come through the simple processes of teaching and training them in the way of the Lord.

Home life, proper teaching in the home, parental guidance and leadership—these are the panacea for the ailments of the world and its children. They are the cure for spiritual and emotional diseases and the remedy for its problems. Parents should not leave the training of children to others.
I was struck by the fact that President Kimball doesn't say "love in the home is all we need." (Although I think he's just assuming love in the home as a given, and it's implied in "parental guidance and leadership.") And he also doesn't say that the parents need to be expert teachers or perfect examples. What he does say is that the greatest blessing we can give our children is to teach them simply, with a focus on Jesus Christ, and that we should take personal responsibility for this teaching.

Of course, I know we can't blame the choices of children solely on their parents. I know there are complicating factors…and yet…a prophet of God is saying this: "Home life, proper teaching in the home, parental guidance and leadership—these are the panacea for the ailments of the world and its children. They are the cure for spiritual and emotional diseases and the remedy for its problems."
3
3 comments Filed under:

Bowling Balls, Baby Houses, Noodle Trunks


3
3 comments Filed under:

Heavenly Mother and making a home

This post is part of the General Conference Odyssey. This week covers the Women's Session of the October 1978 Conference.
My favorite talk in this session was President Kimball's beautiful talk on "Privileges and Responsibilities of Sisters." President Kimball is so interesting. Sometimes he seems so forthright and blunt! Other times, he's gentle and sensitive. Both sides come out in this talk.

There's one quote from this talk which I've heard multiple times (and have always loved), but there's more to the quote than I've usually seen. Here's the whole paragraph:
Each of you should be grateful to be a woman! Self-pity is always a sad thing to see and especially when there is no justification for it. [There's the forthright side! Haha.] To be a righteous woman is a glorious thing in any age. To be a righteous woman during the winding up scenes on this earth, before the second coming of our Savior, is an especially noble calling. The righteous woman’s strength and influence today can be tenfold what it might be in more tranquil times. She has been placed here to help to enrich, to protect, and to guard the home—which is society’s basic and most noble institution. Other institutions in society may falter and even fail, but the righteous woman can help to save the home, which may be the last and only sanctuary some mortals know in the midst of storm and strife.
The part of the talk that has been sticking with me most, though, is President Kimball's hint at some of the attributes of our Heavenly Mother. She was clearly on his mind, and he mentions Her explicitly here:
God is your father. He loves you. He and your mother in heaven value you beyond any measure.
Then President Kimball talks a lot about the traits women need to develop if they are to be guardians of the home:
We should be as concerned with the woman’s capacity to communicate as we are to have her sew and preserve food. Good women are articulate as well as affectionate. One skill or one attribute need not be developed at the expense of another. Symmetry in our spiritual development is much to be desired. …
Home is a place for all that is good and enlightening and true. It should provide a climate for constant growth and learning for all who live there—father, mother, and children. …
Much is said about the drudgery and the confinement of the woman’s role in the home. In the perspective of the gospel it is not so. There is divinity in each new life. There is challenge in creating the environment in which a child can grow and develop. There is partnership between the man and woman in building a family which can last throughout the eternities. 
I liked all of that, but here's the part I liked most:
The women of God in all ages have been able to reflect with awe upon the handiwork of God in the heavens without neglecting the practical skills needed not only to survive on this planet but to live an abundant life. There is more of a connection than many realize between the order and purpose of the universe and the order and harmony which exists in a happy and good family.
Did that strike you as it did me? Here President Kimball is, talking about how a woman can bless a home: by providing a climate for learning, fostering an environment ripe for growth and development, and making sure her children have a safe and happy place to become who they are meant to be. And then he compares our universe to such a home—a home that is orderly and purposeful and a wonderful climate for learning!

And who did he just say was specially in charge of "enriching, protecting, and guarding the home"?

Women and mothers!

 Maybe it's because I've been wishing to know more about Heavenly Mother's role in our lives. Or maybe it's because my thoughts already went this direction a few months ago. But to me, this whole passage seems to imply that Heavenly Mother—just like earthly mothers—has special charge over creating a purposeful, loving environment where Her children can constantly learn and develop. She apparently has a particular ability to combine the "handiwork of God in the heavens" with the more hands-on, down-to-earth ministry of creating "an abundant life" for her children. At least I think that's what this must mean! If we, as daughters, are meant to cultivate an ability to mix spiritual contemplation with practical action—then surely our Mother demonstrates that ability perfected! And if we, as daughters, are supposed to learn that the personal, practical, cyclical tasks of homemaking are not confining, but challenging and full of purpose—then surely our Mother loves to find purpose and joy in carrying out the "practical" and "personal" homemaking tasks in Her own sphere!

Obviously I don't know how, exactly, our Heavenly Mother makes our heavenly home safe and happy and "a climate for constant growth and learning." Maybe Her ways are wholly different than my ways. But as an earthly mother, I try to embrace cycles; to create repetition and familiarity and tradition along with gradual growth. I try to bring in light, physically and spiritually. I try to foster kindness and attentiveness and connection between my children. And I try to see and find beauty in the smallest of details. So…maybe some of those things are what She does too, for us? Maybe what She is doing for us even now?

"There is more of a connection than many realize."


Other posts in this series:
3
3 comments Filed under: , , ,

MarilynHand New

Remember MarilynHand? You'll be pleased to see that I have updated it for even more accuracy. We have been studying advertising and graphic design for school, and we spent a few days learning about different typefaces, so clearly we all needed to make fonts out of our handwriting too. The kids really liked seeing their handwriting in typed form—I think it made them feel quite famous!

You can do this yourself at https://www.calligraphr.com/en/. I spent a long time fiddling with mine to get it to look better, but you can get pretty good results fairly quickly. You just download a template, write a letter in each box, scan and upload it back to the site, and then make size and baseline changes as necessary. And it's fun! And efficient! Just think how many thousands of "personal notes" I can mass-produce now! I'll never have to handwrite a thank-you note again! :)
7
7 comments

Forty things I like about Sam

It's been awhile since I wrote about how much I like Sam! But not for lack of material.

  • I like how he makes sandwiches. With salt and olive oil as well as turkey and spinach, of course.
  • I like the way he skips rocks. ("It's more about choosing the right rock than about your technique.") 
  • I like how he never swears (not even when caught off guard).
  • I like the way he refers to baby noises as "creaking." "I heard Ziggy creaking in the other room."
  • I like the way he imitates a French accent.
  • I like the way he quotes old church movies. "This-here pump works just fine!"
  • I like the way he reads the Bible and the Book of Mormon (making charts and graphs out of the Hebrew parallelisms, and so forth).
  • I like how indignant he got about the fact that two crabs in a bucket do not, in fact, just keep pulling each other back in.
  • I like the way he tucks a baby under his arm and then just goes about his day
  • I like how he gets out of bed and fixes the sheet when I kick my feet around and make feeble, discontented noises about how wrong everything is.
  • I like how even with valiant effort, he can't get the pronunciations of EXtract and exTRACT straight (EX-tract is the noun version, ex-TRACT is the verb, in case you're wondering. Following the same pattern as address, eclipse, permit, conflict, and so forth).
  • I like the efficient, no-nonsense way he navigates DVD menus.
  • I like the multi-chocolate hot chocolate he makes.
  • I like the way he does pushups with children on his back.
  • I like how he grocery shops. Cheese counter first.
  • I like how he gets the mail (with a child holding each hand, and at least one other child yelling "I want to come with you TOOOO!" while hopping toward the front door trying to pull his or her shoes on).
  • I like the color of his eyes (brown).
  • I like the robust, brazen tone in which he'll suddenly break out with a phrase like "the cut of his jib."
  • I like how he eats tiny muffins in one bite and then looks guiltily around.
  • I like how he becomes impassioned about design principles.
  • I like how he asks me, in all seriousness, as if he really believes I will know, if he has taken his aspirin yet. (He has to take aspirin at every meal because of an allergy.)
  • I like the way he says "bless you, bobber" when a baby sneezes.
  • I like his phobia of sponges being left in the sink.
  • I like the eager way he talks about rockets/black holes/meteors/graphene.
  • I like the way he cooks crêpes—three pans at once! 
  • I like everything he draws for the kids during church.
  • I like the way how every so often he stops working to pet the bunny.
  • I like how on Wednesday evenings, he stops the car in the driveway, rolls the garbage cans into the garage, and then drives the rest of the way in with one of the kids on his lap.
  • I like how he says, "That doesn't need to be augered."
  • I like how easily and sincerely he asks people about themselves.
  • I like his homemade milkshakes.
  • I like the apologetic way he says "tweak."
  • I like the serious way he considers problems like which donut to eat first.
  • I like the way he always grumbles about how long the children take to come to the table for meals after we call them.
  • I like how much he likes clouds.
  • I like how hopefully and innocently he believed that once he bought a huge package of pens, he'd never have to hunt for a pen again.
  • I like how he can let his lower jaw go slack and go "bliggababliggababliggaba" while he wiggles his head.
  • I like how he's a patient driver—the worst thing that escapes his lips is a "Hey, that's bad!" at someone every now and then..
  • I like how he comes into the kitchen and says "What can I help with?" as soon as he walks in the door after work.
  • I like how horrified he is about bad kerning.
8
8 comments Filed under:

The changing strategies strategy

This post is part of the General Conference Odyssey. This week covers the Welfare Session of the October 1978 Conference.
It's been a long time now since I tried a new "chore system" or "reward system" or any sort of new household system. I guess I've gotten kind of jaded about it, to the point that I occasionally even (and I'm very sorry to admit this) utter a mirthless, barking laugh when I read about someone else instituting a new system. "We've only been doing this for a week," the breathless report always begins, "but already it's working so well..."

 I guess I'm just at that dangerous place, having been a parent for 15+ years now, where I'm not really an expert on what works, but I know far too intimately what DOESN'T work and I have a weary, woeful sigh for the poor fools who think their "systems" are going to last more than a month or two.

 But that's unfair. Because some things DO work, of course, and different things fill a need for different families…and most of all (and maybe I'm just barely becoming an experienced enough parent to realize this)—just because a "system" only works temporarily doesn't make it a failure or a waste of time!

 That's a new thought, but it's been taking shape in my mind for awhile now. I used to see a changing system as a sort of "giving up:" I couldn't make that thing "stick" in our family life, so therefore I failed. One of the most obvious places I kept seeing this was in my personal scripture study. I used to read at night. Then I couldn't stay awake, so I changed to reading first thing in the morning. Then I had babies nursing all morning, so I changed to…forgetting to do it at all half the time. Then I started reading right after the kids left for school. Then we started homeschooling and I was back to trying to squeeze it in at random times. Then I tried to do it while nursing again, but that meant I couldn't write in my scripture journal anymore. So I tried to find time at night again. And so on, forever. And every time something stopped working, I felt this deep disappointment in myself for not being able to keep up such a basic, essential gospel habit!

 It was so frustrating to me to find something that worked, and then life would change and it wouldn't work anymore!

 But one day during a Relief Society lesson, something sparked this thought in my head: Changing strategies is itself a strategy.

 I've been mulling it over ever since. And so here's the passage I noticed from Elder H. Burke Peterson's talk about preparedness: 
Individual needs will vary as does the circumstance of each of us. Personal situations change as years go by. We should constantly appraise our needs and update our direction and emphasis. Our eternal progression, in large measure, is determined by our ability to evaluate and strengthen each area of weakness. What is the need of one may not necessarily be satisfied in the same way for another.
The way he says that, it sounds like changing strategies is a good thing! And when I think about it: why not? Why should the same chore system that worked for preschoolers keep working for years and years until you have high school kids? (I mean, if it does—great! But why would I expect it to?) Why should our family home evening plan be able to work the same with three kids as with eight? Why should I read my scriptures at the same time and in the same way through my twenties, thirties, forties, fifties, and so on? It's not only that my life is changing, but I'm changing too! I need different things. I can handle different things. So why would I feel bad about changing my schedules, systems, and methods to match those changing circumstances?

I still view certain parenting or housekeeping fads with a leery eye, but I'm going to try to be less cynical about them, and to realize that in my own family, as in others, some flexibility and adaptation is a good thing. For my own sanity, I can't stand too-frequent changes, and of course if something is working well, I'll stick with it. But I'm also realizing it's okay to plan for change. It's okay to get excited about a new system and then potentially fizzle out a bit—as long as we keep re-trying, renewing, and re-committing to the things that matter most.


Other posts in this series:
5
5 comments Filed under: ,
Subscribe to: Posts (Atom)
Powered by Blogger.
Back to Top