I recently read an article on the future of Mormon mothers written by someone asked to speak on behalf of the women of my faith. Because her viewpoint differed slightly from my own and what I have understood coming from the "tabernacle pulpit," as it was put, I have since wanted to put to words my own opinion as my future as a Mormon mother.
Here is the link: http://www.patheos.com/Resources/Additional-Resources/The-Future-of-Mormon-Motherhood?offset=1&max=1
And here is my response:
I appreciated Neylan McBaine’s view of Mormon motherhood. As a Mormon mother, I would like to add my own.
One of the most powerful perspectives my faith has provided me on this subject is that motherhood is my birthright.
“Do not trade your birthright as a mother for some bauble of passing value. Let your first interest be in your home. May you not trade a present thing of transient value for the greater good of sons and daughters, boys and girls, young men and women for whose upbringing you have an inescapable responsibility.” (Gordon B. Hinckley, “Your Greatest Challenge, Mother,” Ensign, Nov. 2000, 97–100)
I remember well when President Hinckley taught this message; somehow it was seared into my soul. In Old Testament times a birthright of wealth, power, land, etc., was given to the oldest child with the understanding that it would then be used to care for the rest of the family. That motherhood is my birthright, to me means that motherhood was given to me from a rich Father in Heaven who wants to share His wealth with me. I am queen of this small kingdom, endowed with an extra portion of wealth and of power to bless His children He gives to my care. Bringing myself, and His own!, back to Him is my greatest opportunity and my greatest responsibility. As Latter-day Saints we understand that becoming more like our Father is not just part of this mortal experience; it is the overarching purpose of life.
General Relief Society President, Julie B. Beck, has taught, “Nurturing mothers are knowledgeable, but all the education women attain will avail them nothing if they do not have the skill to make a home that creates a climate for spiritual growth.” In that same vein, although my efforts outside the home can be of benefit to many, all the professional work or community service that I render will avail me and that community nothing if I am not first succeeding in my efforts and tasks at home as a mother. And yes that effort includes a nutritious dinner and a peaceful, ordered home—which I would clarify are not retro, but inarguably requisite for an optimal “climate.” (I wonder when food and shelter stopped mattering, or ceased to be something worth working for. Oxygen may be ubiquitous and old-fashioned--what’s been around longer?--but that doesn’t lessen our need for its presence.) How much I accomplish outside my home is of little worth if these outside efforts have so depleted me that I no longer have my best to give to my birthright. Maybe I don’t have the confidence to think I can take on more jobs and do them all well. In truth I don’t even desire to try. I just want to do motherhood and I want to do it well.
Some may worry that this is culturally how motherhood should look; for me, this is authentically how motherhood feels.
"You have nothing in this world more precious than your children. When you grow old, when your hair turns white and your body grows weary, when you are prone to sit in a rocker and meditate on the things of your life, nothing will be so important as the question of how your children have turned out. It will not be the money you have made. It will not be the cars you have owned. It will not be the large house in which you live. The searing question that will cross your mind again and again will be, How well have my children done?
"If the answer is that they have done very well, then your happiness will be complete. If they have done less than well, then no other satisfaction can compensate for your loss" (ibid., Hinckley).
It is my great joy to give my life to this work.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Saturday, June 12, 2010
I Know That Which the Lord Commanded Me
Last week I was having a conversation with a friend about motherhood. I seem to frequently do this to those I love…corner them and them and then make them listen to all my latest thoughts. She told me that her experience with motherhood was somewhat different. I asked her how and she told me of disappointed expectations and of her weaknesses. When I looked back on the conversation I worried that she might think that motherhood for me has been different than what she experienced. Not so. I wouldn’t feel that I needed to repent so often if I could just tame my passionate character and not get angry at children or spouse. And I have so many expectations that are frustrated ….at least temporarily anyway. I wished I could have that conversation back with my friend and tell her, “No, no it’s not that I think that I am great. It is just that ‘I know that which the Lord commanded me and I glory in it! I do not glory in myself, but I glory in that which the Lord hath commanded me; yea, and this is my glory, that perhaps I may be an instrument in the hands of God to bring my children to know their God; and this is my joy (Alma 29:9).’”
I know that motherhood is what God has commanded me to do. I glory in that calling. When I am quiet and I am reading my scriptures my Heavenly Father whispers the importance of these things to me. These things fill my heart so that I want to shout the things that He has whispered from the tops of mountains. Since I haven’t ever done that I settle for cornering my friends and blogging occasionally.
I know that motherhood is what God has commanded me to do. I glory in that calling. When I am quiet and I am reading my scriptures my Heavenly Father whispers the importance of these things to me. These things fill my heart so that I want to shout the things that He has whispered from the tops of mountains. Since I haven’t ever done that I settle for cornering my friends and blogging occasionally.
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Singing The Garden To My Boy
I discovered this music before my mission. I was singing it to myself the other day and my six year old became interested and asked me who the snake in the grass was. I decided to to sing him the songs from the musical one at a time at bedtime to tell him the beautiful story. I was only able to know the words because I had the sheet music. I think that I liked singing it myself rather than playing a CD because I could be really dramatic for him, articulate the words, stop and explain things, and then ask him question about what he thought along the way. It turned out to be the best bedtime story. He suprised me with his ability to understand the symbolism and guess who the characters really were before I told him. He loved the music and demanded that we not sing only one song, but finish the musical in one sitting. I think I took 2 days to sing it to him. I wouldn't have thought to share this with him at such a young age, but it turned out to be very fun and meaningful. I felt like I was able to sing to him my testimony and give it to him in way that he could hold on to it.
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Let Me See What My Donkey Sees!
Do you ever think your child acts like a donkey? My last reading in the Old Testament left me with that exact impression.
The account is found in Numbers 22. Israel was on their journey to claim the promised land. Israel was an intimidating group to the Moabites. Feeling threatened, Balak, King of the Moabites, entreats Balaam the prophet to curse Israel so that they don’t prosper. Balaam goes and the anger of the Lord is kindled against him because this isn’t the will of the Lord that Israel be cursed. A heavenly messenger is sent to warn Balaam. Balaam didn’t see the angel standing in the way with sword unsheathed, but his trusty donkey did. The donkey tried to protect his master three times by turning off of the path, by laying down in the path, and by running himself and his master into the wall. Because Balaam was unable to see what his donkey did he was furious and beat his donkey those three times. He felt so justified in the treatment of his animal and so furious by his donkey’s actions that he even wished to kill him. Then something truly amazing happened. God opened the donkey’s mouth and the donkey in essence pathetically says, “Why are you hitting me? Haven’t I always served you? Haven’t I always done everything you asked? I have only stopped you because I am trying to protect you.”
Wait…did that say that the mouth of the donkey was opened rather than that God spoke through the donkey? This is a radical idea that is contrary to the more common dismissal of an animal’s feelings as not real because, well, they are an animal. Balaam’s donkey had feelings that were overlooked because the donkey could not express them and a perspective of a danger that his master couldn’t appreciate because the donkey couldn‘t articulate. “Who are the donkeys in our lives?” I wonder. There are many in our lives who can not articulate well or who cannot articulate at all and as a result they are seen as not having feelings or the feelings are unimportant or not real. I think of the elderly, of victims of strokes, of the mentally retarded, of the mentally ill, and I especially think of children.
In 3 Nephi 26 the language of how the Lord opened the mouths of the children to speak reminds me of the account of Balaam and his donkey. “And it came to pass that he did teach and minister unto the children of the multitude of whom hath been spoken, and he did loose their tongues and they did speak unto their fathers great and marvelous things, even greater than he had revealed unto the people; and he loosed their tongues that they could utter (3 Nephi 26:16).”
I remember myself as a child. My parents and I laugh now about a time period that I moaned and complained. I was around 10 years old. I was going through that awful stage where you are not a cute child and not a beautiful young woman. It is the ugly stage. It was the stage where the things you say aren’t adorable because of youth and yet wit and intelligence isn’t well enough developed to be impressive to anyone. It is an awkward stage. It was also an unhappy time for me. I struggled to find word to articulate my loneliness, but I was unable to. So why I burst into tears during dishes or I moped around the house and my family would ask me what was wrong I would say, “I guess it is just hard to be the middle child.”
Now, that wasn't true. I loved being the middle child. When you are number 5 of 10 amazing people you can be close to them all. I loved being a part of a big family.
Maybe I read the words in a book or maybe an older person said that it must be hard because I was the middle child. Who ever first gave the idea, I don’t recall, but I latched on to those words to try to explain my hurt.
Now that I am older, I look back at that time and can articulate precisely the cause of my sorrow. I was terribly lonely. I didn’t have anyone special in my life that adored me. During that time I lost my best friend Heather because her cousin Amy moved next (next door or down the street - maybe add that detail to make it more real?) to her. I still remember how painful it was to call to ask Heather to play and my best friend that never played with anyone else was now always with Amy. At school their close friendship continued and I was at best a third wheel. I was lonely at school. I was lonely at home because my older sister had become more interested in playing with our older brothers rather than playing make believe with me. She was out of the awkward stage and into the cool, pretty stage. This is a natural transition, but as my luck would have it my adoring younger sister had just found out how fun our younger brother could be and even she didn’t to want to play with me. That loneliness at home and school made me yearn for someone that would always love me, prefer my company, and see the good in me. In short, I wanted my mom. This was one of the times in my life that I most grieved my mother’s death. She passed away when I was almost seven.
I still feel sad when I remember that lonely time of my life. I feel even worse when I think of my donkey children going through similar pains without being able to express what they feel. But what makes my heart break is to think of how I could respond as a mother to my children like Balaam responded to his donkey. After Balaam had the surreal conversation with his donkey the Lord rebuked him. Then the scripture states, “The Lord opened the eyes of Balaam, and he saw the angel of the Lord standing in the way, and his sword drawn in his hand: and he bowed down his head, and fell flat on his face (Numbers 22:31)” I imagine having shame and humility replace feeling self -justified in his anger is part of the reason that Balaam falls flat on his face.
It seems almost unavoidable that I will make similar mistakes because my children can't articulate their feelings and I don't always intuit their perspective. The only answer seems to be the Lord opening my eyes as he opened Balaam's. “Oh , please dear Lord,” I pray, “let me see what my donkey sees!”
The Holy Bible, Numbers 22
http://scriptures.lds.org/en/num/22
The account is found in Numbers 22. Israel was on their journey to claim the promised land. Israel was an intimidating group to the Moabites. Feeling threatened, Balak, King of the Moabites, entreats Balaam the prophet to curse Israel so that they don’t prosper. Balaam goes and the anger of the Lord is kindled against him because this isn’t the will of the Lord that Israel be cursed. A heavenly messenger is sent to warn Balaam. Balaam didn’t see the angel standing in the way with sword unsheathed, but his trusty donkey did. The donkey tried to protect his master three times by turning off of the path, by laying down in the path, and by running himself and his master into the wall. Because Balaam was unable to see what his donkey did he was furious and beat his donkey those three times. He felt so justified in the treatment of his animal and so furious by his donkey’s actions that he even wished to kill him. Then something truly amazing happened. God opened the donkey’s mouth and the donkey in essence pathetically says, “Why are you hitting me? Haven’t I always served you? Haven’t I always done everything you asked? I have only stopped you because I am trying to protect you.”
Wait…did that say that the mouth of the donkey was opened rather than that God spoke through the donkey? This is a radical idea that is contrary to the more common dismissal of an animal’s feelings as not real because, well, they are an animal. Balaam’s donkey had feelings that were overlooked because the donkey could not express them and a perspective of a danger that his master couldn’t appreciate because the donkey couldn‘t articulate. “Who are the donkeys in our lives?” I wonder. There are many in our lives who can not articulate well or who cannot articulate at all and as a result they are seen as not having feelings or the feelings are unimportant or not real. I think of the elderly, of victims of strokes, of the mentally retarded, of the mentally ill, and I especially think of children.
In 3 Nephi 26 the language of how the Lord opened the mouths of the children to speak reminds me of the account of Balaam and his donkey. “And it came to pass that he did teach and minister unto the children of the multitude of whom hath been spoken, and he did loose their tongues and they did speak unto their fathers great and marvelous things, even greater than he had revealed unto the people; and he loosed their tongues that they could utter (3 Nephi 26:16).”
I remember myself as a child. My parents and I laugh now about a time period that I moaned and complained. I was around 10 years old. I was going through that awful stage where you are not a cute child and not a beautiful young woman. It is the ugly stage. It was the stage where the things you say aren’t adorable because of youth and yet wit and intelligence isn’t well enough developed to be impressive to anyone. It is an awkward stage. It was also an unhappy time for me. I struggled to find word to articulate my loneliness, but I was unable to. So why I burst into tears during dishes or I moped around the house and my family would ask me what was wrong I would say, “I guess it is just hard to be the middle child.”
Now, that wasn't true. I loved being the middle child. When you are number 5 of 10 amazing people you can be close to them all. I loved being a part of a big family.
Maybe I read the words in a book or maybe an older person said that it must be hard because I was the middle child. Who ever first gave the idea, I don’t recall, but I latched on to those words to try to explain my hurt.
Now that I am older, I look back at that time and can articulate precisely the cause of my sorrow. I was terribly lonely. I didn’t have anyone special in my life that adored me. During that time I lost my best friend Heather because her cousin Amy moved next (next door or down the street - maybe add that detail to make it more real?) to her. I still remember how painful it was to call to ask Heather to play and my best friend that never played with anyone else was now always with Amy. At school their close friendship continued and I was at best a third wheel. I was lonely at school. I was lonely at home because my older sister had become more interested in playing with our older brothers rather than playing make believe with me. She was out of the awkward stage and into the cool, pretty stage. This is a natural transition, but as my luck would have it my adoring younger sister had just found out how fun our younger brother could be and even she didn’t to want to play with me. That loneliness at home and school made me yearn for someone that would always love me, prefer my company, and see the good in me. In short, I wanted my mom. This was one of the times in my life that I most grieved my mother’s death. She passed away when I was almost seven.
I still feel sad when I remember that lonely time of my life. I feel even worse when I think of my donkey children going through similar pains without being able to express what they feel. But what makes my heart break is to think of how I could respond as a mother to my children like Balaam responded to his donkey. After Balaam had the surreal conversation with his donkey the Lord rebuked him. Then the scripture states, “The Lord opened the eyes of Balaam, and he saw the angel of the Lord standing in the way, and his sword drawn in his hand: and he bowed down his head, and fell flat on his face (Numbers 22:31)” I imagine having shame and humility replace feeling self -justified in his anger is part of the reason that Balaam falls flat on his face.
It seems almost unavoidable that I will make similar mistakes because my children can't articulate their feelings and I don't always intuit their perspective. The only answer seems to be the Lord opening my eyes as he opened Balaam's. “Oh , please dear Lord,” I pray, “let me see what my donkey sees!”
The Holy Bible, Numbers 22
http://scriptures.lds.org/en/num/22
Winning Their Hearts Through Nurturing
Recently I had a friend tell me that she could understand why many women choose to work in an office instead of the work in the home. “So much of what you do at home is so quickly undone or gone by the end of the day. You make a wonderful meal To plan, prepare, and serve it takes hours. When it is done you have nothing to show for it but a dirty kitchen!” After a few more of her examples I had to agree that is definitely a hard part of motherhood. It is easy to finish a day, or a year, or a decade and say to oneself, “What did I do? What do I have to show for my work?”
This week I was reading the account of Ammon, the great missionary in the Book of Mormon. I reviewed principles that I tried to learn as a full-time missionary. When Ammon determined to teach the Lamanites the Gospel of Jesus Christ before he ever began to preach there was a long-term, open-ended commitment to get to know the people that he wanted to teach (Alma 17:23). Then an opportunity naturally came where he was able to do something that he longed to do--“Win the hearts of these my fellow servants” (Alma 17:29). Once these people knew Ammon and he had won their hearts the Lamanites asked Ammon the questions and Ammon merely testified . And the results were unbelievable (Alma 18:14-42).
As I read the chapter my thoughts naturally started by thinking of my friends that I love and hope accept the truth, but then I began to think of my children who I daily lay down my life for and for whom I will do anything to have the truth written in their hearts. Aren’t our children really our best investigators? Isn’t that what I am trying to do… “win their hearts?”
I shared this verse with a friend that has nearly finished raising her children what she did to win their hearts. “Oh, I don’t know? What about you?” We both couldn’t think of anything to say because nothing we ever did seemed that spectacular. I sheepishly said, “Well, I guess I see it in my son when I prepare a really good meal for my family with lots of side dishes. He loves food. Or if I lay down by him at night when I am putting him to sleep and talk to him”
My not -so-grandiose example gave her more confidence to share hers, “You know, my kids just are going so fast in so many different directions that the only time that they are still is when they sit next to me in Sacrament meeting. And so I just sort of have my hand on their back and lightly move it back and forth. And do you know what I’ve noticed? When my hand gets tired and I put it down my son will put his arm around me.”
“You won his heart.” I tell her. It occurs to me that our seemingly inconsequential examples that we think of to share with each other are actually examples of the power of nurturing.
It is so easy to feel that it is waste of time to get to know and then to win the hearts of investigators through service. As a full-time missionary I wanted to barge into a home, ask 2 get-to-know you questions, and then present the message for them to accept and reject. Sometimes I find myself feeling a similar way now in my life as a wife and mother. I am tempted to deliver my proclamations of the Gospel to those I love in a matter of fact tone , declaring the way things really are, and laying down the law. I don’t see the connection between my bringing my family to the Lord and the dinner I cook or the bedtime routine…until I ponder the story of Ammon.
Then my grandma is “brought to my remembrance (John 14:26).” She was an Ammon to her wayward son when she was in her 80’s and he was in his fifties. He had left the Church in his youth, shortly after his mission. Like Ammon, she told her son through her actions, “I desire to dwell among this people for a time; yea, and perhaps until the day I die.” She told him this by her repeated efforts to have a relationship with him with no Gospel strings attached. Like Ammon took the time to get to know her investigator son and she gave him the time that he needed to come to know her. Like King Lamoni, my uncle got to know his mother and reached a point when he marveled at her character and love and his heart cried, “Surely there has not been any servant among all my servants that has been so faithful as this woman” (Alma 18:10).
Because Grandma was seeking for ways to connect with her son the opportunity to “win the heart” (Alma 17:29) came naturally--just as it did for Ammon. This intellectual son had a pastime of reading physics books. And so Grandma took up physics in her 80’s. Her son would lend her a book, she would read it, and they would discuss it once a week. Just as happened with King Lamoni, questions about God naturally came to my uncle and he asked them to his mother in their conversations. Their conversations revolved around science, God, and the cosmos. Grandma held his heart. I am sure that the testimony that she shared came as a short, gentle answer to the questions of his soul.
My grandmother’s love and nurture were not schemes to turn her children’s hearts to God. Her actions were a natural outpouring of the deep feelings of her heart. I don’t believe that she anticipated the power and influence that her nurturing has had in the lives if her children and grandchildren.
Nurturing can seem like a waste of time to us, like spending the time to get to know and serve the people could have seemed to Ammon. Actually, for hundereds of years the Nephites tried to preach the Gospel to the Lamanites. But the effect of their missionary efforts were that Lamanites wanted to kill the Nephites, burn their records, and wandered about the wilderness half naked eating raw meat (Enos 1:20). When you think about it, the true waste of time is trying to teach the Lamanites without doing first what Ammon did.
It can seem sometimes that there is nothing to show for our work in motherhood. After a day of work you can ask yourself, “What did I do?” After pondering the lesson of Ammon, I have an answer for you. You got to know them, they got to know you, you won their hearts. And now you wait for the time that your King Lamoni will ask you a question and you will testify with all of your heart, and because you have won his heart you might even have the power to convert a Lamanite king… “That is influence; that is power! (Julie B. Beck, “Mothers Who Know”).
The Book of Mormon, Alma 17-18, Enos 1:20
http://scriptures.lds.org/en/alma/contents
http://scriptures.lds.org/en/enos/1
The Holy Bible, John 14:26
http://scriptures.lds.org/en/john/contents
Julie B. Beck “Mothers Who Know”
http://www.lds.org/ldsorg/v/index.jsp?hideNav=1&locale=0&sourceId=dba62bce258f5110VgnVCM100000176f620a____&vgnextoid=2354fccf2b7db010VgnVCM1000004d82620aRCRD
This week I was reading the account of Ammon, the great missionary in the Book of Mormon. I reviewed principles that I tried to learn as a full-time missionary. When Ammon determined to teach the Lamanites the Gospel of Jesus Christ before he ever began to preach there was a long-term, open-ended commitment to get to know the people that he wanted to teach (Alma 17:23). Then an opportunity naturally came where he was able to do something that he longed to do--“Win the hearts of these my fellow servants” (Alma 17:29). Once these people knew Ammon and he had won their hearts the Lamanites asked Ammon the questions and Ammon merely testified . And the results were unbelievable (Alma 18:14-42).
As I read the chapter my thoughts naturally started by thinking of my friends that I love and hope accept the truth, but then I began to think of my children who I daily lay down my life for and for whom I will do anything to have the truth written in their hearts. Aren’t our children really our best investigators? Isn’t that what I am trying to do… “win their hearts?”
I shared this verse with a friend that has nearly finished raising her children what she did to win their hearts. “Oh, I don’t know? What about you?” We both couldn’t think of anything to say because nothing we ever did seemed that spectacular. I sheepishly said, “Well, I guess I see it in my son when I prepare a really good meal for my family with lots of side dishes. He loves food. Or if I lay down by him at night when I am putting him to sleep and talk to him”
My not -so-grandiose example gave her more confidence to share hers, “You know, my kids just are going so fast in so many different directions that the only time that they are still is when they sit next to me in Sacrament meeting. And so I just sort of have my hand on their back and lightly move it back and forth. And do you know what I’ve noticed? When my hand gets tired and I put it down my son will put his arm around me.”
“You won his heart.” I tell her. It occurs to me that our seemingly inconsequential examples that we think of to share with each other are actually examples of the power of nurturing.
It is so easy to feel that it is waste of time to get to know and then to win the hearts of investigators through service. As a full-time missionary I wanted to barge into a home, ask 2 get-to-know you questions, and then present the message for them to accept and reject. Sometimes I find myself feeling a similar way now in my life as a wife and mother. I am tempted to deliver my proclamations of the Gospel to those I love in a matter of fact tone , declaring the way things really are, and laying down the law. I don’t see the connection between my bringing my family to the Lord and the dinner I cook or the bedtime routine…until I ponder the story of Ammon.
Then my grandma is “brought to my remembrance (John 14:26).” She was an Ammon to her wayward son when she was in her 80’s and he was in his fifties. He had left the Church in his youth, shortly after his mission. Like Ammon, she told her son through her actions, “I desire to dwell among this people for a time; yea, and perhaps until the day I die.” She told him this by her repeated efforts to have a relationship with him with no Gospel strings attached. Like Ammon took the time to get to know her investigator son and she gave him the time that he needed to come to know her. Like King Lamoni, my uncle got to know his mother and reached a point when he marveled at her character and love and his heart cried, “Surely there has not been any servant among all my servants that has been so faithful as this woman” (Alma 18:10).
Because Grandma was seeking for ways to connect with her son the opportunity to “win the heart” (Alma 17:29) came naturally--just as it did for Ammon. This intellectual son had a pastime of reading physics books. And so Grandma took up physics in her 80’s. Her son would lend her a book, she would read it, and they would discuss it once a week. Just as happened with King Lamoni, questions about God naturally came to my uncle and he asked them to his mother in their conversations. Their conversations revolved around science, God, and the cosmos. Grandma held his heart. I am sure that the testimony that she shared came as a short, gentle answer to the questions of his soul.
My grandmother’s love and nurture were not schemes to turn her children’s hearts to God. Her actions were a natural outpouring of the deep feelings of her heart. I don’t believe that she anticipated the power and influence that her nurturing has had in the lives if her children and grandchildren.
Nurturing can seem like a waste of time to us, like spending the time to get to know and serve the people could have seemed to Ammon. Actually, for hundereds of years the Nephites tried to preach the Gospel to the Lamanites. But the effect of their missionary efforts were that Lamanites wanted to kill the Nephites, burn their records, and wandered about the wilderness half naked eating raw meat (Enos 1:20). When you think about it, the true waste of time is trying to teach the Lamanites without doing first what Ammon did.
It can seem sometimes that there is nothing to show for our work in motherhood. After a day of work you can ask yourself, “What did I do?” After pondering the lesson of Ammon, I have an answer for you. You got to know them, they got to know you, you won their hearts. And now you wait for the time that your King Lamoni will ask you a question and you will testify with all of your heart, and because you have won his heart you might even have the power to convert a Lamanite king… “That is influence; that is power! (Julie B. Beck, “Mothers Who Know”).
The Book of Mormon, Alma 17-18, Enos 1:20
http://scriptures.lds.org/en/alma/contents
http://scriptures.lds.org/en/enos/1
The Holy Bible, John 14:26
http://scriptures.lds.org/en/john/contents
Julie B. Beck “Mothers Who Know”
http://www.lds.org/ldsorg/v/index.jsp?hideNav=1&locale=0&sourceId=dba62bce258f5110VgnVCM100000176f620a____&vgnextoid=2354fccf2b7db010VgnVCM1000004d82620aRCRD
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
God Remembered Rachel
It has been two years since my family went through this hard experience of infertiliy and then miscarriage. The following was what I wrote to my family to answer their questions of how I was doing through it all.
"God remembered Rachel!" were the words I would have chosen, had I
been more brave, to express the feelings of my heart to you when I
found out I was pregnant. In saying those words I would be echoing the words found in scripture when Rachel, wife of Jacob, after years of infertility finally sees her prayers answered with her long awaited pregnancy.
The words to my doctor and nurses would
have been some what different, but the message would have stayed the
same, "I feel that I am fulfilling the measure of my creation! I
believe there is nothing more noble than being a mother and I get to
do it...again!" For fear of sounding preachy, I responded to their
inquiry by simply saying, "I am so happy and so grateful." I went
to the doctor's office with my head held high, feeling that I was
surely the happiest woman at the UCLA hospital.
My joy was more full as I imagined the impact it would have on our
little family. We would be more complete and the gap between Isaiah
and his sibling would have stopped. We would still be able to have
children that learned to sacrifice for and share with each other.
We told Isaiah of our expected baby and he told us it was his
sister. My dreams of the end of his aloneness and the beginning of
his learning to share and give because of love was already being
realized as he imagined her coming. He told me, "She will cry when
I leave the room because she will want to play with me. I will buy
her all of the princess dresses at Toys R Us. I will fight anyone
with a sword to protect her."
My husband was already beginning to feel what I imagined another baby
would help him feel--purpose, protection of her, and happy to see me
in my joy of being a mother again.
I had so much joy and relief in the thought of being able to throw
myself into further motherhood instead of further school when My son begins Kindergarten. The thought of dropping my son off at school
and continuing in my work as a mother sounded heavenly. I
anticipated the joy of again making the life of a child happy. I
couldn't believe that soon I would be able to nurse again and to
rock to sleep again. I imagined beginning my life-long relationship
with a daughter that would only deepen as I taught her how to look
cute, how to cook, modesty, the scriptures, and then how to care for
her own husband and children.
When we lost the baby we also lost all of these things that we hoped
for. The sorrow has been real, but it has been accompanied by great
comfort of and love from the Lord that has been even more real and
tangible. The answer that God gave us to our pleadings was, "It's
going to be alright." The feelings of peace that accompanied the
answer were so strong, we thought we might be able to keep this
baby. That feeling has not left us. And so there are many
questions that my husband and I wouldn't be able to answer to explain why
this has happened, but we have had the essential questions answered--
God loves us, he has a plan for us, he is in charge, and these
things will somehow work together for our good.
I had a conversation with a friend that loves me and was hurt and
offended that this happened to me. I sensed she wanted to know if I
was mad at the Lord. My response was, "At Him? No. That is the
farthest thing from what I feel."
As I ponder later and try to explain why I could never feel angry at this my mind flashed back to me to times of my pleading for forgiveness, finally feeling it would come,
and realizing that it would only come because he bowed beneath my
load to free me from my sin. I remembered my observations of nearly
everyone I have ever loved walking the same path and my gratitude at
their forgiveness. I remembered the sorrow of the finality of having
family die; and then remembering that Christ overcame death for all
of us at a terrible price to Him. He made it possible for me and
all that I love to live again--both spiritually and physically. At
Him I will never be mad. Even if He never gives to me again, what
he has given is enough. Of course I continue asking for His help
and intervention. But let Him never grant another blessing or
indulge me in my pleadings--I will always praise and adore Him for
the blessing that He has given me. I will forever consider Him my
Savior for what He has done. It is enough. And yet, He gives more
and I ask more.
My friend wanted to understand more of what I was feeling. She
didn't understand why Heavenly Father would allow this to happen to
me. Why all the waiting, then the hoping, then the mourning? Why
when all I wanted was to be a mother? I shared with her my sincere
feelings of not understanding either, but of not being afraid or
annoyed that I didn't know. It is enough for me to know that He
knows. He has asked me to do many hard things that I could never
understand at the time. Each of these experiences has made me feel
His love for me all the more. Never have I gone through such an
experience and wished that He would have made it another way. With
perspective I can see that the path I walked further closed the gap
between Him and I. What did I lose--money, time, riches, father,
mother, brother? No. I lost none of these things, but I came
closer to having them eternally. I lost nothing except distance
between Him and I. And so I walk this new path with faith that it
will be for me now what it has been in times past.
So the sorrow has been real… but just as real has been the love I feel from
Him. Now I go through a familiar postpartum-- the relief from the
awful nausea, the return of the appetite that has come back with a
vengeance, the emotional roller coaster created from hormones
seeking normalcy, the physical healing, and the doctor's orders to
not exercise for 6 weeks. Postpartum this time with empty arms, but not an
empty heart.
God Remembered Rachel
http://lds.org/conference/talk/display/0,5232,23-1-775-6,00.html
"God remembered Rachel!" were the words I would have chosen, had I
been more brave, to express the feelings of my heart to you when I
found out I was pregnant. In saying those words I would be echoing the words found in scripture when Rachel, wife of Jacob, after years of infertility finally sees her prayers answered with her long awaited pregnancy.
The words to my doctor and nurses would
have been some what different, but the message would have stayed the
same, "I feel that I am fulfilling the measure of my creation! I
believe there is nothing more noble than being a mother and I get to
do it...again!" For fear of sounding preachy, I responded to their
inquiry by simply saying, "I am so happy and so grateful." I went
to the doctor's office with my head held high, feeling that I was
surely the happiest woman at the UCLA hospital.
My joy was more full as I imagined the impact it would have on our
little family. We would be more complete and the gap between Isaiah
and his sibling would have stopped. We would still be able to have
children that learned to sacrifice for and share with each other.
We told Isaiah of our expected baby and he told us it was his
sister. My dreams of the end of his aloneness and the beginning of
his learning to share and give because of love was already being
realized as he imagined her coming. He told me, "She will cry when
I leave the room because she will want to play with me. I will buy
her all of the princess dresses at Toys R Us. I will fight anyone
with a sword to protect her."
My husband was already beginning to feel what I imagined another baby
would help him feel--purpose, protection of her, and happy to see me
in my joy of being a mother again.
I had so much joy and relief in the thought of being able to throw
myself into further motherhood instead of further school when My son begins Kindergarten. The thought of dropping my son off at school
and continuing in my work as a mother sounded heavenly. I
anticipated the joy of again making the life of a child happy. I
couldn't believe that soon I would be able to nurse again and to
rock to sleep again. I imagined beginning my life-long relationship
with a daughter that would only deepen as I taught her how to look
cute, how to cook, modesty, the scriptures, and then how to care for
her own husband and children.
When we lost the baby we also lost all of these things that we hoped
for. The sorrow has been real, but it has been accompanied by great
comfort of and love from the Lord that has been even more real and
tangible. The answer that God gave us to our pleadings was, "It's
going to be alright." The feelings of peace that accompanied the
answer were so strong, we thought we might be able to keep this
baby. That feeling has not left us. And so there are many
questions that my husband and I wouldn't be able to answer to explain why
this has happened, but we have had the essential questions answered--
God loves us, he has a plan for us, he is in charge, and these
things will somehow work together for our good.
I had a conversation with a friend that loves me and was hurt and
offended that this happened to me. I sensed she wanted to know if I
was mad at the Lord. My response was, "At Him? No. That is the
farthest thing from what I feel."
As I ponder later and try to explain why I could never feel angry at this my mind flashed back to me to times of my pleading for forgiveness, finally feeling it would come,
and realizing that it would only come because he bowed beneath my
load to free me from my sin. I remembered my observations of nearly
everyone I have ever loved walking the same path and my gratitude at
their forgiveness. I remembered the sorrow of the finality of having
family die; and then remembering that Christ overcame death for all
of us at a terrible price to Him. He made it possible for me and
all that I love to live again--both spiritually and physically. At
Him I will never be mad. Even if He never gives to me again, what
he has given is enough. Of course I continue asking for His help
and intervention. But let Him never grant another blessing or
indulge me in my pleadings--I will always praise and adore Him for
the blessing that He has given me. I will forever consider Him my
Savior for what He has done. It is enough. And yet, He gives more
and I ask more.
My friend wanted to understand more of what I was feeling. She
didn't understand why Heavenly Father would allow this to happen to
me. Why all the waiting, then the hoping, then the mourning? Why
when all I wanted was to be a mother? I shared with her my sincere
feelings of not understanding either, but of not being afraid or
annoyed that I didn't know. It is enough for me to know that He
knows. He has asked me to do many hard things that I could never
understand at the time. Each of these experiences has made me feel
His love for me all the more. Never have I gone through such an
experience and wished that He would have made it another way. With
perspective I can see that the path I walked further closed the gap
between Him and I. What did I lose--money, time, riches, father,
mother, brother? No. I lost none of these things, but I came
closer to having them eternally. I lost nothing except distance
between Him and I. And so I walk this new path with faith that it
will be for me now what it has been in times past.
So the sorrow has been real… but just as real has been the love I feel from
Him. Now I go through a familiar postpartum-- the relief from the
awful nausea, the return of the appetite that has come back with a
vengeance, the emotional roller coaster created from hormones
seeking normalcy, the physical healing, and the doctor's orders to
not exercise for 6 weeks. Postpartum this time with empty arms, but not an
empty heart.
God Remembered Rachel
http://lds.org/conference/talk/display/0,5232,23-1-775-6,00.html
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