His will, not mine

It is hard to believe that just two weeks ago I gave birth to our 8th child. Anyone that knew me as a kid would testify to the fact that I was the person they would have least expected to have a large family. I didn't want anything to do with cooking, cleaning or taking care of children. I would often say that I wanted to marry "Mr. Mom." Thankfully, Heavenly Father's plan is always greater than our own.

If there is one thing that I have learned over the 13 years I have been a mother, it is that as I bend my will to that of our Father in Heaven I am always blessed with much more than I ever would have imagined or hoped for myself.

After having our 3rd child, I thought that I would be done having children after the 4th. I didn't think I could handle more than 4 and felt like that was a plenty big family. Obviously, Heavenly Father had other plans. He gently reminded me that He is in control by skipping right past 4 and giving us numbers 4 &5 at the same time. I felt sufficiently reprimanded by this, not so subtle, reminder that He has a plan and I had neglected to counsel with him in my own planning.

Fast forward 7 years and here I am with double the number of children I thought was ideal. Each of the last 4 pregnancies have stretched and grown my faith in Heavenly Father. Each has come with their own struggles, my own feelings of self-doubt - How can I meet the emotional, physical, spiritual needs of so many children? Each time I have been faced with different fears. And, each time I have had to approach Heavenly Father with increasing amounts of humility begging for my faith to be strengthened and my fears to subside.

My greatest fear this last time was facing the excruciating pain of labor and delivery. Having had a c-section with the twins my options for childbirth were greatly limited. I couldn't find a doctor that I was comfortable with that was willing to do a VBAC in the hospital. So, unless I wanted another c-section and the lengthy recovery that comes with it, my best option was to have Liam at a birthing center with no pain medication whatsoever. I gave birth to both Solaine and Sariah naturally and know well the pain that comes with delivery. For some reason this time around I could not stop dwelling on the fear of facing that pain again. I searched and searched for an option that would give me access to some sort of pain relief. However, I felt good about none of them. Eventually, I gave up looking and began praying for strength and faith necessary to put aside my fears.

As I prayed and sought peace, I was reminded that I was following Heavenly Father's will and therefore would be blessed. I was also reminded that often those blessings come "in the very hour" that they are needed. I desperately wanted to feel at peace but knew that it may not come until that "very hour". As I searched the scriptures and words of the prophets I came across this quote, "When we are uncertain of the path ahead, we fill up our hearts with faith, go forward into the unknown, and stop and pray again and again."

I pondered these words and was reminded of the atonement of Christ. Specifically, I was reminded of Matthew 26:39 "And he went a little further, and fell on his face, and prayed, saying, O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me: nevertheless not as I will, but as thou wilt." But the unimaginable pain, the responsibility of taking our sins upon him was not taken from Christ because Heavenly Father knew there was a greater purpose that needed to be accomplished.

How desperately I wanted to the pains of labor to be taken from me, but I knew they wouldn't be. In the end, I knew that having this baby join our family was a blessing worth any price. Heavenly Father had helped me to understand, to see clearly that while the pain (as excruciating as it may be) would be temporary the blessings - the countless blessings - would be eternal. Through my fear He helped me to greater appreciate the atonement of my Savior, Jesus Christ. Through my fear, He helped me to strengthen my personal relationship with Him. And, in the end, the pain was not taken from me but literally in the very hour it was needed, peace and strength, a strength that was not my own,  were given to me to get past the pain.

I am grateful that Heavenly Father knows us, that he has a plan for us that is a million times better than our own plan. I am grateful that he patiently takes my hand and waits for me to willingly bend my will to be in line with His. My cup runneth over and my life is much more because of Him.

Becoming who He would have me be.

At the beginning of 2014, John told me that we should have another child. I did not feel ready at all for another. Looking back, it wasn't because I was overwhelmed with those we had - it was because I was comfortable. I wasn't sure that  wanted to have a toddler and a baby again. I didn't want to go through another pregnancy/birth. I didn't want to be sleep deprived. I had no good reason for not wanting another, I just didn't. Thankfully, the Lord is willing to be patient and helped soften my heart. I decided I needed to at least be open to the idea and find out if Heavenly Father wanted us to have another. As I was thinking/praying about this one day I had the very distinct thought that our faith is strengthened the most when we are willing to step forward without a clear path or clear direction. I knew that this was Heavenly Father letting me know that He was asking us to welcome another child into our family.

I am beginning to see that Heavenly Father knows us so much better than we know ourselves. He sees our full potential and asks us to do things that we would never do on our own. When I was younger being a mother of a large family was the last thing I wanted to do. I remember telling my own mother that I wanted to marry "Mister Mom". I wanted to marry someone who was willing to stay home so I could have a career. How grateful I am that life did not turn out as I thought I wanted it to. I am grateful that Heavenly Father is helping me to become a much better person than I thought I could be. I am grateful for the lessons I have the privilege of learning from my children every day. For it is through them that I grow closer to my Heavenly Father and become the person he would have me to be.

Gratitiude In All Things

Today was an unusually long day. The twins were grumpy. Solaine was fussy. The kids were fighting. Yet, I find myself sitting in bed feeling overwhelmed with gratitude for my beautiful life. This past week I have heard about tragedy after tragedy, friends and acquaintances that are going through some very difficult trials.

As you sow, so shall you reap

I have never been very good at keeping any type of plant alive. I have tried to grow and keep many things alive in the past years, all of which have died. I was thinking about this and wondering how much money I was wasting as I planted our garden this year. I then realized that if I care for the plants - give them the right fertilizer, protect them from critters and weeds, provide them with the sunlight and water they need - they will thrive. After all, you reap what you sow. If I simply plant the seed without caring for it, nothing or very little will come from my meager efforts. I chose the picture above because I cannot fully reap the crops from my garden without some effort - effort that will require getting my hands dirty.

The same is true for raising and nurturing children. What does it really mean to give a child "life"? Is that done once a mother has born her child? In some sense of the word, sure. But, I would venture to say that in the real meaning of the word, no. Just as I want my garden to thrive, parents have an obligation and responsibility to teach their children the tools necessary to truly live. It seems that now many people believe that to fully experience life we must be involved in every activity, have the latest gadget, the best clothes. Is that, though, experiencing life or experiencing things?

What does a child need to have a happy, meaningful life? Several years ago my husband and I had the opportunity to visit several remote villages along the Amazon river of Brazil. These people had next to nothing. They lived in grass huts, hunted for their food and literally lived off of the land. The children had no shoes and very little clothing. Yet, these children were some of the happiest I have ever met. It was there that I really began to believe that that which matters most in life has nothing to do with social status or how much money we have. It has everything to do with being true to who we are - children of God.

In order for my children to bloom and reach their full potential, I must find a way to teach them of their worth. I won't do that if I am sowing seeds of negativity or doubt, if I can't correct them in kindness or regularly praise them for all that they do so well. Will they become all that they are meant to be if I don't give them a chance to learn something new by pushing them to do hard things? or to go to Our Father in Heaven in prayer when things seem too hard?

With each of my actions I must ask myself, "What seeds am I sowing?" As a Mother I have been given the opportunity - the power, if you will - to teach these little people and to help shape their lives.  As Sheri Dew put it:

“ This is a call to arms, it’s a call to action, a call to arise.  A call to arm ourselves with power and with righteousness.  A call to rely on the arm of the Lord rather than the arm of flesh.  A call to “arise and shine forth, that our light may be a standard for the nations.  A call to live as women of God so that we and our families may return safely home [to Him]. ”

Show me, Don't tell me

 

I spend the better part of most days saying this exact phrase to my children. Generally, it is in reference to the everyday, mundane things. They want to play with friends but don't want to be nice to their siblings or get their chores done. They want dessert but don't want to eat dinner etc... You get the picture. And so I repeat over and over, " You have told me what you want now show me, don't tell me."

 

I really hadn't thought too deeply about this daily routine until yesterday. As I watched a mom pick her children up from school,  I realized she made a positive impression on me. I must point out that I don't know this mother. I have only spoken a few words to her once or twice, yet her actions inspire me to be a better mother. How can that be?

 

Think back through your life. Think about those who have made the biggest impact on your life. Is it their words you remember or what they did? I can say, without question, I remember actions, not words.

 

I remember the English teacher that meet me in the evening hours to help me get a research paper finished on time. I remember an anonymous note I received in the mail during a particularly difficult time during my teenage years. I don't remember the words on the note, just the gesture. I remember many neighbors and friends who came to help after the births of each of my children. I remember texts, phone calls, and dinners brought in times of need and friends who stopped by to say hello. I remember many offers to help with my children when I have been sick.

 

It is easy for me to say to my children, "Show me, don't tell me." but am I leading by example? Do I show them each day, in a way that speaks to them how much I love them? Do I show them my love for the Savior? Do I show them how much I value integrity and honesty?

 

Back to the mother at school - You might ask, What is it that she did that made such an impression? While every other mother is there talking to the other moms and ignoring their younger children, she is playing with hers. She rides a scooter home right beside her boys, she talks with them and laughs with them. She is fully engaged with her children. It is very obvious that her life is all about them.

 

I hope that my children will feel their worth and know of my love for them because I have not only told them but because I have shown them.

 

 

Babies Don't Keep

      Several years ago, John's parents moved to Brazil. John and I moved into their home in order to take care of it while they were away. The move took us from a 900 square foot apartment to a 6500+ square foot home. It would be a gross understatement to say that I felt overwhelmed with trying to keep up with the house and the kids (I had Brian and Caitie at the time).  I often found myself telling the kids "no" to various requests because I felt the need to clean, clean, clean. It was during those years that I found this video. Needless to say, it spoke volumes to me.

     Over the years I have found myself going in cycles. Sometime I am really good about putting aside the cleaning and not worrying about what so and so will think if they stop by and my house is a disaster. Other times, I want the house clean for me - and my pride. I think I want a house where everything is always in it's place and there are no smudges on the wall or crumbs on the floor. Then I remember that the 6 little people who bless my life so abundantly are the same ones who make such a mess.  Sure it is my job to make sure that they have clean clothes, food to eat and a sanitary place to live. But, even more importantly, it is my job to nurture them, love them, teach them. When they grow up they won't remember if their mom was the best house keeper in the area (thank goodness), they are going to remember the time that I spent with them and how loved they felt when we were together.

     So, today I am only a little ashamed to admit that more often than not my house looks like this

and worse. While I still haven't let go completely, I have definitely made some progress from the mom that felt unable to spend time with her children because of her responsibilities to the house.

 

I often think about this poem when I am tempted to spend day after day cleaning while my children entertain themselves.

 

Babies Don’t Keep

By Ruth Hulbert Hamilton

 Mother, O Mother, come shake out your cloth, Empty the dustpan, poison the moth,

 Hang out the washing, make up the bed, Sew on a button and butter the bread.

Where is the mother whose house is so shocking?

She’s up in the nursery, blissfully rocking.

Oh, I’ve grown as shiftless as Little Boy Blue, Lullabye, rockabye, lullabye loo.

 Dishes are waiting and bills are past due, Lullabye, rockaby, lullabye loo.

 The shopping’s not done and there’s nothing for stew

 And out in the yard there’s a hullabaloo,

 But I’m playing Kanga and this is my Roo, Lullabye, rockaby lullabye loo.

The cleaning and scrubbing can wait till tomorrow

 For children grow up as I’ve learned to my sorrow.

 So quiet down cobwebs; Dust go to sleep!

I’m rocking my baby and babies don’t keep.

Feelings of failure

I feel like this past week was one of those where my kids experienced one parenting fail after another. Sad thing is, I am not even sure what I should have done differently to make it a more successful week of mothering. I wish that I could blame the week  - and my behavior- on John's extra long work hours, or tired kids, or a myriad of other things. Unfortunately, I know too well that I am the one responsible for my actions, no matter the circumstances.

Part of the reason for my feelings of failure is my inability to know what one child in particular needs right now. She has been very sad lately. She has also been acting in a way that tells me she wants/needs extra attention. She has been complaining of stomach aches (mostly at bed time), hitting, kicking, yelling. She is happy when she gets the one on one time she wants. Unfortunately, I can't give her 100% of my time every day. I am at a total loss about how to help her find happiness when the situation maybe isn't what she wants.

I am not ashamed to say I need help, or at least some sage advice.

All that being said, I know I have a very kind and merciful Heavenly Father who is watching over me and my children. As long as I look to Him I won't fail my children. At least not when all is said and done. In the mean time, I hope that their resiliency and the other amazing adults in their life will make up for what I lack.