Sunday, May 12th Mother’s Day

It has been a good day with my sweet little family. Some days are like that. Most days are like that, in fact, and Sundays are typically my favorite day. Except the part where we have to take our little nightmare to church, aka Logan. A friend in our ward had commented once that his daughter is to church as oil is to water. And that holds true for our little Logi Bear. He lacks the ability to be still and relax. He needs to be moving, exploring, touching, and all other things that he can’t do in a pew. Only 5 more months until he goes to nursery. For now, Jacob and I switch off taking him home after sacrament. He’s a good boy at home.

My sweet boys made a pile on mom this morning to wish me a happy Mother’s Day. I rejoice in my calling as a mother and wife and in my place in this world as a woman. Those boys are my purpose at this point in my life, and I know of no better calling. I am not always patient and kind and full of tenderness as I ought to be, but I am in love with my children and see so much goodness in the world when I’m with them.

I have spent this past week reflecting much on what matters most. Some dear friends of mine have decided to leave the Church after being faithful, devoted members for many, many years. They were a couple that I wanted to be like when I met them 10 years ago. I admired everything that they were, and I have seen her lose a child and stand firm and immoveable through  the greatest adversities. But now, in a matter of a couple weeks, they’ve decided that the church isn’t true and that they are removing their records from the church. My heart has been sick about it the entire week. I worry about their children who have been raised in the gospel and will suddenly find their foundation being ripped out from underneath them, and I feel such a sadness. I worry about Satan’s power over the people that I love and have had to remind myself all this week that he only has as much power as we give him.

My friend says that it was a decision that was made in just a couple weeks’ time, but I know better. I’ve seen their gradual decay, her preoccupation with her body image and plastic surgery and his with money. Money is needful, and our health and fitness are important, but when those things become our quest and take precedence above all else, our moral code begins the slow process of deterioration. Nothing is okay when it takes our focus away from that which is most important.

Satan is cunning, and he knows that I won’t wake up tomorrow and decide to cheat on my husband or break the word of wisdom or leave the church. However, he’s got other tactics. He’s not going to get me in those ways, but it’s likely that he could get me to wake up in the morning, take a look in the mirror and say to myself, “You would be worth more if you were thinner,” or some other secular lie about my worth depending upon my body.  Satan knows I struggle with self worth, so he’ll get me where he can. He’s not going to see our strengths in one area and give up on us. He’ll come at us from another angle until he finds the areas that we are willing to give in a little. His goal is to make us miserable, and he is persistent in his efforts. In getting me to question my worth, I could become obsessed with working out or plastic surgery and start putting my children and marriage second or find the flirtations of another man who makes me feel good about myself too hard to resist. He can get it to consume my thoughts so that I start searching for my worth in the world or in a new person who tells me I’m pretty. He could get me to say, “I’d give anything to feel attractive or be thin,” as he is “lying in wait” asking, “What would you give?” until small things lead to big things, and I’ve given my soul in exchange for things that don’t matter. It’s a slippery slope, and I never want to find myself there.

“The first wrongdoing is like a single strand of flaxen thread; it is easily broken and thrown aside. But each time the wrong is repeated another strand is intertwined around the first, and on and on it goes until an almost unbreakable cord of multi-strands is woven. ‘The chains of habit,"’ said Samuel Johnson, ‘are too small to be felt until they are too strong to be broken.’” – Elder Carlos E. Asay

As heartbroken as I have been this week for this sweet family, I have been reminded that it didn’t happen overnight. This has been a couple years in the making. It has been a slow erosion, and all Satan had to do was get them to take their eye off the mark for simple little distractions that don’t really matter in the eternal aspect of our existence. He wants to know what we’ll give up, his ultimate goal being our souls, and he never stops trying. So we can’t either, not even for a second, because if we do he has found his way in.

For Mother’s Day, I was able to sit and listen to the speakers in sacrament. One of our speakers from the bishopric had me about ready to stand up and shout, “Preach it!” He spoke of motherhood and, especially, womanhood. He talked about mothers and woman feeling the need to run faster than we have strength, and, again, I think we do that because we feel our worth depends upon our many motherly accomplishments – how smart our children are, how many sports they’re involved in, how fit we are despite how many children we’ve carried, how many children we’ve borne or haven’t, how clean our houses are, etc. So we try to do it all at the same time, not remembering that there’s a season for everything, and we about make ourselves crazy just trying to measure up. He also talked about Mary and Martha, one cleaning away and the other sitting to listen to Jesus talk, doing the needful thing. How many times have you been Martha, busily going about filling your day with a thousand things  that are second to more important things like listening to your children or sitting on the floor and playing a game with them even though you haven’t vacuumed or reading your scriptures? I am Martha every day, letting important things slip away because I’ve filled my day with busy things that might be good but not at the expense of the more important things like praying, reading, and giving my children the attention they so desperately need at their young ages. I don’t know how to be Mary, and he reminded me in the talk that I need to be more like her and do the needful thing.

And my favorite of all was his closing remark that on this day, especially, women should think about what they are instead of what they are not. I’m always thinking of what I am not.

But today, in honor of my womanhood, I am reminded that I am a mother, a wife, a sister, a daughter, a friend, and that I am a child of Heavenly Father’s. I try to be good at all of those things, and I love my calling and place in this world. I love that I assist God in bringing children into this world, and I love that I get to raise them up with my sweet Jacob. There is a place for all the women in the world, and we will all be mothers, in this life or the next. I am so many good things, and I have tried today to put aside anything that I think I am not. I look at my children and remember that I have done much good in the world because there is much love within the walls of my home.  And to end this lovely evening, I’ll share a poem that I wrote when Easton was just a little babe sleeping on my shoulder.

"Fruit of My Labors"
The day is through,
and you are fast asleep
upon my shoulder
while the dishes are
in the sink
and crumbs are
on the floor.
Dust has settled on the
cherry picture frames,
and baseboards
have been neglected.
Because today
I was just your mother.
We sang, and I
taught you some letters.
We played, then
I hugged and kissed you.
You cried,
and I held you
I cleaned, clothed, and fed you.
Tonight we prayed
together while the tasks
were left undone.
Now you are asleep
upon my shoulder
after a day's worth of
all that I taught you.
And before I look around
and see failure,
I kiss the child resting
in my arms,
and I think of you -
the result of my toils,
the sweet fruit
of my labors.
-7/23/06