Please Help Me Fine-Tune My Poem

Today's thought(s) came in the form of a poem. I've dabbled in poetry in the past, but it is still an elusive beast that I struggle with. I enjoy it, but as my dad sometimes says (and he may be quoting somebody, but I'm paraphrasing), poetry can be a lot of pretentious nonsense.

So, here's my pretense. To me it isn't nonsense, though, so if you have thoughts or constructive criticisms for better conveying my sentiments, I would welcome them. As well as any suggestions for a title.

"Go to sleep."

"Go to sleep," I said
"so that your body can rest and grow big
and tall and be healthy
and strong."

"Oh!"

And her eyes light up. Eyes reflecting
the joys of life, back
and forth so many times that I'm awed
to stand at the center and find that the source of all this happiness
is right here before me.

"Oh!" she says,
"I sleep, I wake up, and I be big and strong
and big like you, mama?
I sleep!"

And I laugh because science says that even now, at this peak
of growth, she only adds four inches a year, which works out to be .01 (repeating forever) inches a day.
A change which would still be imperceptible to either of our eyes.

But I pause at the door

Because last night, I kissed a baby girl, tucked her in, and told her to
"Go to sleep."

This morning, that same girl leapt from her bed, spoke in full sentences,
and awakened me.

No more sleep.

Allow Time to Digest

A couple of days ago, something happened that stirred up a lot of people. You may be tired of hearing about that thing. This post is not a response to that thing, but rather a response to the responses to that thing. And a few other things.

First off, this thing that happened deeply upset a lot of people. That's why I was disappointed by the lack of patience, love, and attempts at understanding that I witnessed from both sides. Even some of those who were seemingly attempting to respond with love still came across as a bit cold and hurtful. I read many comment threads in which those who were grappling with this new information were further battered, rather than comforted.

We all believe certain things to be true, but there are some things (and certain times) that we don't need to share, regardless of their truth. It may be a fact that my dear friend is overweight. There is no time that I feel justified in pointing that truth out to her. It would not be kind. It would not build our friendship. It would not be helpful. Very often, these truths that we feel inclined to share at inopportune times are well-known by those with whom we are sharing. "Reminding them" does nothing but scrape an open wound they are attempting to heal.

When an issue like this becomes front and center, we feel a need to do something. Say something. Respond in some way. But hasty responses can do a lot of harm that we may never be aware of. I admire the friend who, upon learning this news, was somewhat hurt and confused, but responded, "I need some time to digest this." This is a matter that may require a bit of time to resolve. Some of us may never be 100% okay with it. I don't think that means that we still can't have strong testimonies. One of the more rankling comments I repeatedly hear is something to the effect of, "If you believe the prophet speaks with God to give us revelation then you shouldn't have any doubts." I respectfully disagree. I have a very strong testimony that the prophet, Thomas S. Monson, speaks for the Lord. That does not mean I have never felt anxious, concerned, confused, or sad about anything--even commandments or policies. It feels a little uncomfortable at times. I would say it even hurts. But I also believe that those times I am hurting are stretching me, molding me, and making me stronger. Eventually. In the meantime though, I feel a bit weak, vulnerable, and I need a little bit of extra love and understanding. The last thing I need is for people to freak out because I'm unsteady.

I sat in a church lesson awhile ago that made me squirm. The lesson was based on Rosemary M. Wixom's talk, "Returning to Faith." I loved this talk. The teacher didn't though, and admitted it up front. It made this teacher uneasy to listen to a story of a young mother who had questions about the gospel. And this concern/panic began before the young mother had even left the church--it was off and running at the first mention of doubt. And throughout the young mother's story of questioning, learning, growing, and returning to the church, this well-meaning teacher continued to interject expressions of alarm. It made me incredibly uncomfortable to see what had been for me a calming, reassuring lesson in persisting in spite of doubts turned on its head.

I saw this same discomfort with others' uncertainty present in the faith-filled responses of many. I am very glad that there are so many strong members who have not struggled with this issue. If you are one of them, I commend you. I also ask though, that you be patient with the rest of us. This is a sensitive issue that can merit some deep concerns. They will likely not be resolved in immediate response to something seen on social media, or shared by friends. It is great that you have answers as to why this thing is right and good, but those are your answers. You can feel free to share them if it feels right, but be prepared to realize that they may not assuage the anxiety of those in the midst of questioning. They will need to find their own answers in their own time. As much as we may wish to fix the problems of others and heal their hurts, we can't always do so. Occasionally, we may only offer hugs and prayers as others undergo their trials of faith. They, in time, can be prepared to do the same for us when we encounter our own uncertainties.

I think it's worth noting that not everyone who asks why is on their way to leaving the church. For those who are, it is not something that will come easily. Many who leave have struggled to stay for a long time. The gospel has become an integral part of them, and separating themselves from something that has been so dear to them for so long causes a great deal of pain. I think that whether our doubts lead us to apostasy or not, we all need a gentle environment in which to question.

Remember those things we believe but don't need to share? I keep hearing a lot of people saying, "I see this as a weeding-out of members." *Cringe.* I don't doubt that this issue will try many. It may even be a reason for departure from the church for many. I'm not going to bring that opinion to a public forum where struggling members may read it. 

You know the thing about weeding? I have zealously weeded strange plants from my flower beds only to discover months later that these "weeds" were some of the most beautiful flowers. I just wasn't familiar enough with them to properly distinguish them from weeds. We also learn from the parable of the wheat and the tares that if we attempt to weed in areas where wheat and tares have grown together, pulling the tares can result in the loss of some wheat. For that reason, tares were allowed to grow up with the wheat, and were sorted after harvest.

This is not my garden. These wheat, tares, flowers, and weeds are real people--our friends, our family, and those in our neighborhoods. Their souls are what's at stake here, not just a few missed flowers. That is why I trust the care of this garden to an all-wise gardener. As Hugh B. Brown's brilliant talk (which was made into a lovely Mormon Message) states in its title, "God Is the Gardener." This entire issue is one that I don't completely understand. My only peace comes from knowing that God is the one who is doing the weeding and pruning. Let's leave that to Him, please.

As we engage in tricky discussions, let's do our best to make our love and understanding increase relative to the sensitivity of the issues. While we may speak out in favor of our beliefs or correct factual inaccuracies, we should engage in such discussions with the utmost care. Regardless of whether we fully accept changes yet or not we all need love at this challenging time. Allow time for the Spirit to work in others so that they may receive their own answers and support them. Realize that, despite your wishes, you may not have their answer, and that's okay. Above all, remember that we are all children of God, and our words can deeply affect each other. 

"Be thou humble; and the Lord thy God shall lead thee by the hand, and give thee answer to thy prayers.

I know thy heart, and have heard thy prayers concerning thy brethren. Be not partial towards them in love above many others, but let thy love be for them as for thyself; and let thy love abound unto all men, and unto all who love my name."

(D&C 112:10-11)

Peace Like a River

Oh, this world we're living in.

It seems like each day, there's something new to be riled up about. I am occasionally blinded by confusion over happenings in the country (Candidates, ugh!), my family (Having to accept the choices of others can stink), and even the church, occasionally (Heartburn over the situation with the BSA). Instead of seeing “Trees of green, red roses, too . . . ,” in this wonderful world, I can get caught up in the trials I witness and the issues I can't understand. In these times, I call upon my faith and one of my favorite paraphrases of scripture: “Peace like a river.”

The concept of having peace like a river shows up many places in scripture and has been turned into some lovely songs. I love the imagery that comes each time the scriptures mention rivers. As Lehi reminds us in 1 Nephi 2:9, they are continually flowing. We can count on the river to be constantly moving—always forward, regardless of the obstacles that may be encountered.

I have loved the peace like a river metaphor for awhile now, but time and thought deepen my love and understanding of the phrase. When I originally took note, I think I imagined the beauty and calm of a river segment somewhat like this one. It didn't take me long before I realized that rivers don't always look so placid. Sometimes they look like this, this, or even this. (At this point, you're probably very glad that I've shown you all these pictures of rivers, since you may not have known what I was talking about in the beginning. Be advised that I am now talking about the river in all its incarnations. Except this one.)

Not all of these rivers seemed calm to me. And yet . . . I was oddly okay with the phrase “Peace like a river” applying to each of them. Examining all, I found that rivers, regardless of their state of flowing, bring me peace.

But how? And does the analogy apply in less than tranquil cases? I submit to you that yes, it does. I believe it is possible to experience peace in situations that would seemingly leave us battered and breathless against the endless stones and torrents.

The Guide to the Scriptures gives the following insight/definition to the word peace: “In the scriptures, peace can mean either freedom from conflict and turmoil or the inner calm and comfort born of the Spirit that God gives to his faithful Saints.”

God can take us out of the conflict, but he often takes the conflict out of us.

D&C 121:33 prompts some thought: 

How long can rolling waters remain impure? What power shall stay the heavens? As well might man stretch forth his puny arm to stop the Missouri river in its decreed course, or to turn it up stream, as to hinder the Almighty from pouring down knowledge from heaven upon the heads of the Latter-day Saints.

Paul echoes these assurances; “And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus (Philippians 4:7).”

The flow of the water isn't always slow and easy, but it's at the most turbulent moments that the river can be most powerful—if we can only endure to partake of the clarity of mind available to us. As the scripture in Philippians suggests, we may not understand how, but the peace of God can trump all understanding—or lack thereof, and keep us focused on the Savior. And, as we learn from Nephi, if we live according to the commandments, “then [will] thy peace [be] as a river, and thy righteousness as the waves of the sea (1 Nephi 20:18).” We, like the river, can become an unstoppable force for good.

Henry B. Eyring said it this way:

If we have faith in Jesus Christ, the hardest as well as the easiest times in life can be a blessing. In all conditions, we can choose the right with the guidance of the Spirit. We have the gospel of Jesus Christ to shape and guide our lives if we choose it. And with prophets revealing to us our place in the plan of salvation, we can live with perfect hope and a feeling of peace. We never need to feel that we are alone or unloved in the Lord’s service because we never are. We can feel the love of God. The Savior has promised angels on our left and our right to bear us up. And He always keeps His word. ("Mountains to Climb," April 2012, Emphasis added.)

I conclude with some lyrics from one of my favorite songs and a few more thoughts.

So, hold on thy way,

For I shall be with thee.

And my angels shall encircle thee.

Doubt not what thou knowest,

Fear not man, for he

Cannot hurt thee. . . .

My kindness shall not depart from thee.

("My Kindness Shall Not Depart From Thee," Words and Music by Rob Gardner)

Yes, I sometimes experience frustrations, and life can be filled with turmoil. But without my faith in the Lord, Jesus Christ, and His atonement, I would be forever hopeless, depressed, and anxious. If my testimony were in the feeling I get when I go to church, the organization of it, people who attend, or even the character of the leadership of the church, I would have left long ago. It is not; however, so I have not, and I will not. Whatever else may happen in my life, I continue to have faith in God and cannot deny the truthfulness of the gospel nor the critical way in which I need Jesus Christ's atonement. So, amid the rocks and rapids of the world, church, and family, I will continue downstream with the peace that comes from doing what I know I need to do.

(BONUS: I love this talk by Elder Neal A. Maxwell, but didn't use it. Please enjoy it--the parts that are relevant to this topic, and those that aren't, but are still great!)

Why CAN'T We Be Friends?

Once upon a time my computer died so I couldn't write any blog posts for awhile. This was a most unfortunate event. Luckily, it magically came back to life (by means of my husband, not a fairy godmother) and we are now living happily ever after once again.

Which is good, because once again, I have something to say.

This entry is going to cover some things that I've tried to say previously, but haven't explicitly stated. This time, I would like to just come out and say what I've been thinking, rather than alluding to it. Please continue reading, as these same thoughts could be affecting you or someone you know and love.

My problem is this: I'm a Stay-at-Home-Utah-Mormon-Mother.

Actually, that's not the problem—at least, not to me. My problem is that there are some people who think this is a problem. I keep encountering people (sometimes other Mormons, even) who get all uppity about Utah Mormons. Also, people who think Mormon women are being oppressed. And don't let me forget the disputes about stay-at-home moms. If you are unaware of how these criticisms go, the gist is that we're all weak people with nothing to say, oblivious of the unfortunate way we've all been made from cookie cutters. We've been pushed into our current roles because we have no other options. To those perpetuating these myths I say: You're wrong. Please stop.

I take great issue with all of these views because, to the untrained eye, I fit this mold. To those looking at conditions and statistics instead of people, I am one of THOSE people. I grew up in a small Utah town. In fact, I've never lived outside the state of Utah. I'm the oldest daughter in a rather large family who has never really “gone astray.” I am also the mother in a loving two-parent home, who chooses not to work outside the home in order to care for my daughter. To the casual observer, the only thing that sets me apart from the rest of the “Happy Valley” Mormons is that I don't live in Happy Valley. (And I don't have a white picket fence around my yard. Also, a dog. I don't have a dog, either.)

Anyway, the purpose of this entry is not to gripe about how I'm being judged by people who don't know me. It's to tell the world—or at least, those brave souls that will stumble across this—that even though I may look like all the other cookie-cut Mormons, it's not because I don't have any other viable options. I am educated. I don't stay at home with my daughter because I couldn't get better work. I CHOSE to live this way. Just as I have chosen to accept the gospel of Jesus Christ. Yep, I was born and raised in this church, but I have also tested it (Alma 32:26--43).

You can show me all the reasons not to be a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I had someone try to do that to me yesterday. I say try because, in actuality, I was more aware of the arguments against my religion than they were. I could have compiled a longer, more comprehensive list than the one with which I was presented because I have seen and heard many arguments as to why I shouldn't believe what I do. I'm not living in a spiritual vacuum—although, admittedly, if there were such a thing/place, it would be in Utah—I've encountered opposition. And if anything, examining their criticisms has made me into more of a believer. There are reasons I am who I am. If you would like to hear them, I'll tell you. If not, that's fine, too. But please stop relegating me and those like me to a few measly labels.

I'd like to rally a cause—the force of so-called cookie-cutter Mormons. Rise up! (Sorry, little BYU joke, there . . . ) Because, if I were were a betting man—er, woman—I would bet that they, like me, are more than they appear. Following a somewhat upsetting experience in which my attempts to befriend members of a different faith failed because their tenets discouraged interacting with “nonbelievers,” I have become sensitive to just how detrimental divisions based upon differences can be. So you're not a Mormon? Okay. Let's still be friends. Grew up outside of Utah? Great. You probably have some powerful experiences to draw from. You're a man? Thank you for the things you do that I can't. You're a hardworking mother who's balancing a career while raising your family? Can you offer me some tips for time management and efficiency?

So, you're different from me in some way? That's cool. Let's stop judging one another and start learning from one another.

In a beautiful talk highlighting our faith and its foundation, our previous prophet, President Gordon B. Hinckley, had a wonderful quote for those with beliefs that differ from ours: “To these we say in a spirit of love, bring with you all that you have of good and truth which you have received from whatever source, and come and let us see if we may add to it.” I would, in this same spirit, echo to the wide variety of individuals in the world, these same sentiments. I'll bring the good that I have, and you can see if you can add to it.

Hard Decisions: In Defense of the Vanilla I Have Chosen

I once had a teacher share a story about a sports team whose motto was “Vanilla. Choose the hard thing!” (or something like that). The saying was supposed to represent the difficulty in life when decisions have to be made. In an ice cream shop filled with many options, what's harder than skipping the extravagance and going for the plain, boring, and traditional vanilla? Sometimes those are the decisions that have to be made, right?

But there are people who actually like vanilla. On a recent trip to the store, my little sister was allowed to choose the ice cream. After looking over all the options, she opted for vanilla. As my mom and I teased her about how unacceptable vanilla was (“What sorts of choices will you make in your life if you can't even properly choose ice cream flavors?”) and she pretended she had made a hasty decision (“Cookies and cream? Yeah! I didn't even see that one!”), we went with the more interesting flavor and abandoned vanilla. But I could see by the look in her eyes that she really would have liked vanilla. After all, when you rarely get ice cream, even vanilla is a treat.

As a vanilla person myself, I understand this. And when I say I'm a “vanilla person,” I don't simply mean that I enjoy vanilla Frostys more than their original counterpart. I mean that I'm somewhat bland in comparison to some of the other people here in the ice cream shop of life. I don't skydive and live dangerously. I'm not gorgeous or famous. I'm not trying to cure cancer or rid the world of hunger because I've already accepted that those aren't the stars for which I'm shooting anymore.

It wasn't an easy conclusion. Like every child in America, I was raised on school assignments of “What Would You Do If You Were President of the United States?” and fantasies of becoming a pop star over night. Admitting my mediocrity in the world was tough—and I'm not saying this in a dejected, woe-is-me way. I'm just saying, in a matter-of-fact way, that I'm like everyone else. I mean, I think I'm cool, but it's just an average kind of cool. So, I gave up my more far-fetched ambitions of being a real-life princess-astronaut who moonlights as Bill Nye the Science Guy's assistant and “settled” for something rather vanilla by comparison that I had dreamed of doing far before anything else.

Thus, I became a mother. And I do believe that so far, it has rivaled my previous dreams for excitement, joy, and all-out flavor. The thing about vanilla ice cream, choices, and people is that we are flexible. We go well with chocolate syrup, birthday cake, and sprinkles. We do well in all sorts of circumstances, and no matter what the other options might have been. And as one who likes vanilla, I'm quite happy with the choice I have made, hard as it may have been. I've got all the sweetness I could ever want.

Hello! I'm a Conservative Christian. Let Me Tell You What I Really Believe.

So, I'm getting a little tired of having various internet memes tell me what I believe and how I live my life. Mostly because they tend to be wrong. Occasionally, when I run across one with a particularly amusing punchline, I read it and snort before getting on with my life. Unfortunately, most of the memes describing “my lifestyle” that I encounter are just offensive to me. The other day I saw a meme with a caption saying something to the effect of “I'm a Conservative Christian and I believe in the sanctity of marriage. So do four out of my five previous husbands.” I didn't laugh when I read this one. Instead, I got a bit upset and cried some angry tears because I feel like I am being misrepresented on the internet—along with many others who share my similar values. You may say, “Well, yeah, but that's because you're part of the group. If you were on the opposing side of the fence, you would find it funny like the rest of us.

Would I?

The whole point of me telling you this is to tell you that I, as someone who identifies as a “conservative Christian,” am an individual. A real person. And at the risk of sounding too much like an episode of Sesame Street, it makes me sad when people aren't nice to me. Actually, it makes me sad when people aren't nice—whether I'm the victim or not. So, don't give me this crap about “The tables being turned,” and “How do I like it?” because although I have my beliefs, I DON'T HATE GAY PEOPLE. I don't post memes ridiculing people who are different from me, and I don't sit around in my spare time thinking of all the reasons I think they are going to Hell. In fact, I don't even believe in Hell in thetraditional sense, and the person I most frequently condemn is myself. I don't enjoy it when anybody is mocked and ridiculed, whether they believe as I do or not!

Yes, I'm a Christian. A member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints—you may more readily recognize the term Mormon. I also happen to lean to the right politically. I do value the sanctity of marriage. I understand there are many who oppose my viewpoint. If you are one of them, that's okay. I think you're wrong. But I also know that you think that I'm wrong. The issue I'm concerned with here is not who is right and who is wrong (because I think we'll find that at the end of the day, we each believe the other is wrong, no matter what is said). My concern here is that yes, we disagree. Now what?

I suppose we could continue to create and share fallacious memes that illustrate why the opposite view is stupid in addition to being wrong, but I'm personally getting tired of the same old arguments. Yes, sometimes heterosexual marriages end in divorce. I think this is unfortunate. But (forgive me, you'll have to step inside my religiously extremist mind here—try not to judge too harshly!) I don't believe two wrongs make a right. Divorce, like marriage, is a choice. And while some people may be making the choice of “serial monogamy,” I am not one of them. When I say that marriage is something that I hold sacred, this means that in addition to viewing marriage as between a man and a woman, I was particularly careful while searching for my own spouse. My grandma used to tell me that most girls are more selective of their prom dresses than their husbands. I was not about to be one of those girls. Because I view marriage as special, it's not a relationship I was willing to enter into with just anybody. I kept looking until I finally found someone I believed was worthy to be called my husband. Now that we have found each other, we are doing all we can to ensure that our marriage lasts. So please, don't lump me into a group that believes that divorce is a natural result of marriage. I'm putting a lot of work into this relationship called marriage, and I find it hurtful when others cavalierly come along and tell me I'm going to fail when they don't even know my husband and me.

But lets talk about something that many of those on “my side” have been guilty of. Like the idea that heterosexual people have a monopoly on the pursuit of happiness—particularly where relationships and family are concerned. “Gay people shouldn't get married or adopt because they can't have kids naturally.” You've probably heard that one at least a few times. I don't like it because I don't think that inability to reproduce “naturally” is something to rub anyone's nose in. You probably find the “gay people shouldn't have kids because they aren't good parents” line of reasoning to be as repulsive and distasteful as I find the “religious right-wingers are all hateful people who deserve their multiple divorces” logic—because it's a sweeping generalization that's wrong. Those people I know who identify as homosexual would make great parents if the opportunity came their way. It would seem to me, that the pain that comes to those individuals who are unable to marry or have a family for reasons related to sexual orientation is just as real as that of any single person who is unable to realize their need for intimacy or any couple longing for a child. We should stop mocking the sadness associated with these circumstances—regardless of the sexual orientation of those involved.

The debate over whether or not homosexuals should be able to marry is a sensitive one with very personal ramifications for both sides. It is a discussion that should be had civilly—which civility is typically lacking in internet memes. By all means, post factual sources that support your cause. Electronically share your beliefs—I will be. Just please, as you do your best to tell others how you feel about controversial issues, leave the memes out of it. This is a delicate subject with actual people on both sides, and we can't be fully represented by such sweeping generalizations.

The Grace of Lovingkindness

Consider how I love thy precepts: quicken me, O Lord, according to thy lovingkindness.

Psalms 119:159

Words have meaning—even words in the scriptures. Whoops! I mean, especially words in the scriptures. I've often come across scriptural language that made me think, “Well, why didn't you say so?” but as I become more familiar with the language of the time, I see that is exactly what the authors were doing, and so beautifully, too! One of my favorite words as of late is lovingkindness. I think it's such a tender word, quite perfectly suited for its use.

The word was recently called to my attention by my grandma. She mentioned that while reading scriptures, she and my grandpa had come across a “funny word.” And while she tried to remember what it was, I thought of all the funny scriptural words that I could. Firkin. Whithersoever. Sackbut. Heh, sackbut. (I know it's a musical instrument, but it gets me every time!) I was surprised when she finally remembered. “Lovingkindness. Isn't that kind of funny? It's so long!”

So I spent the next little bit trying to figure out why my grandma would think that lovingkindness was a funny word. I concluded it was because it was an interesting combination of words that we don't typically use anymore. I mean, it seems somewhat superfluous. Is it really necessary to have both words? Doesn't kindness presuppose love? Aren't we kind to people we love? And then I thought of families, and both my questions were answered.

But really. How many times do we mistreat the people we love? Far too often. And yet, at the same time, we go on being kind to others that we don't love. We do this for various reasons. We may feel it's our duty to be kind. We may be behaving because people are watching us. Whatever the case, we are human; therefore, for us, the connection between love and kindness must be made so that there is no mistaking our Heavenly Father's role.

Isn't it wonderful that we can know that God is kind to us because He loves us? It's not simply because it's one of His Godly duties to treat us well. But because He is God, we can be sure that He will love us perfectly. Kindly.

Lovingkindness. It reminds me of an institute class I had in which we discussed tender mercies. The teacher explained that the Lord has given us many mercies. And then there are tender mercies. Some of his examples were “It's a mercy that God created this earth for us. It's a tender mercy that He made it beautiful,” and “It's a mercy that God blesses us when we have obeyed His commandments, but it's a tender mercy that sometimes, He just blesses us.”

I really love Isaiah 54. It begins with the Lord promising us that while we may have made mistakes in the past and sometimes feel as though He has left us, He has not forgotten us. Verse 10 reminds us that permanent as we may see the mountains and other geographic features, they will change. What will not change is our Father's everlasting kindness. Due to His lovingkindness and tender mercies, He is able, as verses 11 and 12 show us, to “lay thy stones with fair colours, and lay thy foundations with sapphires.” However He does it, He trades our hardships for precious stones. This is something that I just can't do on my own. I try, but I mess things up. I can harden my heart to stone, but that is of no value to me or anyone else. Somehow, though, He does it. He makes me into a “precious stone”-type person who is fit to live in this “precious stone”-type place talked of in Revelations 21 (especially verses 18—21).

To bring this back to my original verse in Psalms, let me explain why I find this verse to be particularly awesome. Did you know that, in addition to the “go faster” definition we tend to think of for the word quicken, it can also mean “to give or restore vigor or activity to; stir up, rouse, or stimulate,” “to revive; restore life to,” “to become more active, sensitive, etc.,” and “to become alive; receive life”? In pregnancy, quickening occurs when it becomes clear that something in there is alive. So, as a blessing for obeying the Lord's commandments, because of His lovingkindness and tender mercies, we can be more sensitive, revived, and restored. I find that to be lovely, and it makes me want to develop my own lovingkindness.

[Some Arbitrary Number of] Things You Shouldn't Say to People Who Hate Lists of Things You Shouldn't Say

 

If you're on the internet, chances are that you've seen at least one of those lists entitled “[Some number of] things not to say to [some group of people].” These lists can inform us of things we shouldn't say to a wide variety of individuals: pregnant women, people with/without kids, deaf people, sober people, and people with anxiety. I understand liking to make lists, but I'm starting to realize that while it may be beneficial to write down everything you need to get at the grocery store or that you are hoping to accomplish in the day, it's less helpful to write down lists of every possible way you can mess up at a thing or all the wrongs that you're trying to avoid. For cases like these, I'm starting to recognize the wisdom of having one or two guidelines that you may actually be able to adhere to. I'm going to help you out here. Instead of writing a long list of things you should not be saying to single people (“When are you going to get married?”), married people (“So, it's probably about time you had a[nother] kid, right?”), rude people (“Can I offer you some manners?”), and old people (“Do you plan on dying anytime soon?”), I'm going to simplify this: Don't be stupid; be courteous.

The beauty of having a guideline is that it is so widely applicable that I don't have to spell out every thing you could be saying to offend various groups of people. Goodness, it even applies when you may not even be speaking.

One of the many problems with creating lists of things NOT to do is that you could be eternally adding to your lists. To pretend that you can exhaustively iterate offenses is pretentious—and to be honest, obnoxious. I also find it ironic that through informing us how not to offend an “in” group, list-makers, whether intentionally or not, are quite offensive to the “out” groups—both by assuming that we are so unintelligent as to be incapable of our own thought and by mocking our opposing positions.

I realized that I usually only read through the lists for positions with which I agree or identify, and then I smirk and think about how stupid people are. Today, though, I read through a list which contradicted my own opinions. Because it was a good friend who had posted it, I spent the whole time thinking “I don't think I've ever said that to her, but is that REALLY how she feels?” I also found myself feeling many of the concepts were juvenile and unfunny—sad, really. But I'm sure if the person who compiled that list were to read through the opposite view's “What not to say to people who ________,” they would feel similarly. We're all different. And we're all in different points of our lives. Let's exercise a bit of restraint and show some compassion.

It wasn't necessary for Thumper's mother to qualify her advice “If you can't say somethin' nice, don't say nothin' at all.” One of my favorite quotes from Benjamin Franklin recommends that we “Remember not only to say the right thing in the right place, but far more difficult still, to leave unsaid the wrong thing at the tempting moment.” Before you speak to someone, whether your best friend or a stranger, consider how it will sound. Is it stupid? Then don't say it. Is it courteous? If not, just chill in silence, my friend.

Being around babies (and other myths about preparing for parenthood)

Something happened the other day that upset me. Really got me riled. So I'm endeavoring to right all wrongs with this entry.

Pfft. Actually, I'm just going to rant about it.

In recently discussing the birth of my daughter, someone asked me how my husband, Alex, has been with Melody. I answered quite truthfully that he has been wonderful with her. So sweet. Never a better dad, in my opinion. They responded with “Oh, that's great. I was just wondering because really, he hasn't spent a whole lot of time around babies, has he?”

Then somebody else chimed in helpfully: “Oh, no. So-and-so was more prepared to be a dad than Alex; he dated someone who had a baby.”

My issue here is not that I'm upset by the Alex/So-and-so comparison, but that my husband's parental readiness was called into question because he was being evaluated solely on the amount of time spent with children. I can't help but wonder how that works. Perhaps there's some sort of “Child-o-Meter” that tallies time with kids and exceeding a certain score somehow indicates level of preparedness? If so, do you get points for sitting next to kids in church and glaring at them in the supermarket when they scream? Are there triple rewards if a kid pukes on you? And really, what is this number? Have I passed it yet?

This must have been a most unfortunate system for Adam and Eve.

I'm used to being on the flip side: “As the oldest of such a big family, you'll be all set to have your own. You'll be a wonderful mom.” I appreciate that, I really do, but I still don't believe it—especially after having a baby. Preparation for good parenthood is not bestowed with the title of “oldest child” any more than it is given due to age, annual income, or number of times you've looked at a baby and thought that he or she looked cute. None of these things is necessarily indicative of how well you will hold up when you're tired and hungry, but you have to feed your baby first because she's hungry and screaming. None of these is guaranteed to show that you'll be willing to stick around when your wife's hormones are messed up, dinner's not ready, and the baby needs a diaper change. There are certain situations you can't be ready for, but emotional maturity and selflessness will go a long way to helping you to get up your courage and push through anyway. Those things are instilled not by time spent with children, but with effort and attention to improvement. Children may be an integral part of character development, or not. There are many ways to prepare for parenthood.

Alex is one of the sweetest, most kind-hearted people I know. His love, patience, and selflessness humble me. I have to try (yes, maybe this happens at our house occasionally . . . ) to get him to yell at me—and even then he is always the first to forgive. Sometimes he admits he's wrong when he's actually right, just to appease me. I knew he hadn't been around kids much when I married him, but I still picked him to be my husband because after seeing the way that he treated me, my family, and complete strangers, I knew that he had already been prepping to be a father. I may be the oldest of twelve children and I've changed many more diapers, but Alex outstrips my readiness for parenthood in the most significant ways.

So please, say what you may about other people, but my husband was ready for parenthood. And he's doing a bang-up job at it now, thanks.

Heads or Tails

Coincidence? When reading C.S. Lewis, I think not. I find so much symbolism within his Chronicles of Narnia that I have a hard time dismissing any bits that I find to be consistent with my beliefs. And while he may not have intended for all my insights to be taken symbolically, I dare not discredit his genius by suggesting otherwise.

Melody and I have been working our way through the Chronicles of Narnia. (We read The Magician's Nephew and just finished The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe.) Obviously, it's her first time through. I've read them several times, though, and every time I read them I discover something new to think about. This time through, I've been thinking about the creatures of Narnia.

First off, Narnia contains ordinary animals as well as an elite group that was given the ability to talk. These talking animals are set apart and respected more than their mute counterparts. For example, talking horses are only ridden in times of emergency—such as war, and no talking animal is to be used for food. They are elevated because of their gift of speech.

Many Narnians have a mixture of human and animal bodies, giving them more than just the speech of humans. There are centaurs, fauns, satyrs, minotaurs, and more. And what truly struck me was that generally, those who side with Aslan are those with human heads and animal legs or bodies—like the centaurs and fauns. Those who side with the White Witch may have bodies or characteristics that would make them seem human, but their heads are animal heads. We can see this contrast directly with the “Bull with the man's head” who makes his camp with Aslan and the “bull-headed men” who are present with the witch at the stone table in Lion, Witch and Wardrobe. Both are a conglomeration of man and bull, but it seems significant that the bull-headed men are not simply referred to as minotaurs. And why choose to include such an odd creature as a bull with a man's head? I think this is an intentional message Lewis is sending readers: use your head!

Seriously. Our capacity to reason is unparalleled by any beast—or at least it should be. Unfortunately, I find myself a bit “bull-headed” at times. In my obstinance and failure to reason, I succumb to my more basic instincts and find myself in violation of the first instructions Aslan gave Narnia following its creation in The Magician's Nephew: “[A]wake. Love. Think. Speak.” I may be awake and speaking (although, as a sleep-talker not even the awake part is guaranteed), but I often forget about loving and thinking before I speak. And I think the order of the instructions matters greatly; simply speaking does not a good Narnian make—for this is where the foolish and wicked Narnians separate themselves from those who think and do good.

It was possible for animals who could once talk to lose the ability. Some talking animals did not think, but they loved. Others thought but didn't love. The noblest characters—animal, human, or hybrid—spoke only after loving and thinking.

I hope that my human head and my gift of speech aren't being wasted . . . that my reason and choices keep me in the realm of the human, rather than that of the beast.

Freedom and reason make us men;

Take these away, what are we then?

Mere animals, and just as well

The beasts may think of heav'n or hell.

LDS Hymn #240, Verse 3

What Can I Say?

Note: I started this yesterday, but wanted to make sure it was better than just a first draft. It is now finished and of a quality as I feel befits the topic.

“Now the thing about having a baby—and I can't be the first person to have noticed this—is that thereafter you have it.”

—Jean Kerr

I asked a lot of questions after I had my baby, Melody: “Is this pain NORMAL?” “Will waking up at this hour become NORMAL?” “Is it NORMAL for a baby's bellybutton to bleed like this?” “Will my bellybutton ever look NORMAL again?” You know, the normal stuff. And some of the questions were easily answered (“Duh. Having a baby is a painful process,” and “As long as it doesn't get red, puffy, ooze, or smell bad, it's alright to have some bleeding when a baby's umbilical cord comes off.”) Others have taken more time to resolve (“Will we ever have a NORMAL schedule again?” remains to be seen. And really, it was odd how much my stretched outie that used to be an innie resembled Melody's when her umbilical cord came off, but that's far beyond the point I'm trying to make.)

Other people asked me questions, too, but I felt like some of them were trick questions or something. I had no idea how to answer them.

“So are things back to NORMAL, yet?” Umm . . . are things ever NORMAL after you have a kid? Entrapment! I didn't even dare hazard a guess. If I said “no” would they laugh with the knowledge that things were never going to be NORMAL again? And if I said “yes” would they laugh with the knowledge that things were never going to be NORMAL again, but I desperately wanted them to be, so I was lying? Hormones made me overthink everything.

And would you like to compose a Tweet (140 characters or less!) detailing a life-changing event and how you have felt since this experience? You only have 30 seconds to do so, and the people who will read it may or may not actually care about what you have to say. Go on—begin!

This is how I feel when asked what it's like being a mother. There's the short answer, “Good,” that has become my answer of choice, but that doesn't come close to describing what it's actually like.

I could go for humorous, but I don't feel right about being flippant about something so special just because I'm incapable of concisely putting my feelings into words. Even assuming I could, it would take awhile. Have you ever asked a stranger how they're doing, had them respond with a lengthy run-down of all their sorrows, and thought “Whoops! They actually answered the question, 'bless their heart!'”? Because of the nature of the question, I didn't want to go into a detailed answer for someone who was only asking out of habit or courtesy and didn't actually want to hear everything I had to say about being a mother.

Those who casually ask typically accept “Good” and move on. Those who would listen are usually parents themselves, so they smile sympathetically and nod. I think they're well aware of and sypathetic to my conundrum.

I feel my honest, lengthy answer worth recording, though, so here it is (with some of the more personal insights being removed and saved for my own private record).

Things changed when I became a mother. Even though it's only been a little over a month, I see things completely differently. I've been blessed with some wonderful gospel insights in connection with being a mother/parent.

I tend to be a bit critical of myself. Prior to parenthood, I had a rough patch when I was trying to define my worth to my Father in Heaven based on my accomplishments. Did He still love me, even though it had been months since my last good scripture study session? My house was dirty, I frequently missed my prayers, and I sometimes yelled at my husband—did that cut me off from my Father's love? I knew that wasn't how it worked, but it was just after giving birth that I got a bit more understanding about what true love was and how my Heavenly Father might feel about His children—me included.

I had been anxious about loving my baby. What if, somehow, I didn't love her when she was born? After all, I knew nothing about her. I discovered that, despite my concerns, I loved her as soon as she was born. It wasn't because of what she had been, because prior to this, she'd only been a flutter inside of me. And it wasn't because of what she was doing, because she came right out and peed on me. But I didn't care about any of that because I was her mom and I had done so much for her and I had such hopes for who she would be later. So I saw that who I had been and what I was doing currently was not nearly so important as what I would be. And Heavenly Father will always love me because He is my Father and He has great hopes for what I will allow Him to make of me.

Sometimes, when Melody gets too tired before her feedings, she fights me a little when I try to give her the thing that she really needs—and wants, if she weren't too young and tired to realize it. I thought of the scripture “Can a woman forget her suckling child, that she should not have compassion on the son of her womb? yea, they may forget, yet will I not forget thee” (Isaiah 49). I would imagine there are times when I am too inexperienced and tired to know what I need/truly want. As I fight what the Lord is trying to do for me, a situation I find most frustrating when Melody does it to me, He never forsakes me. He may step back to give me time to calm down and realize what I truly want, but He would never get so upset that He would throw up His hands, exclaim “FINE! Starve yourself,” and then leave me forever. He is infinitely patient, and “[H]is arm of mercy is extended towards [us]” (Jacob 6:5)—ready to welcome us home when, like the prodigal son, we calm down and “come to ourselves” (Luke 15:17).

It's been a humbling experience having a baby who completely relies on me for all her needs. For the first few days, she really only cried when she had a need. So I could feed her, burp her, or change her and she would stop crying.

And I thought: I am so good at this.

But then she started crying more often. Just because. And it seemed to me that I could take care of everything for her and she would STILL cry. So I started to feel like a failure. But I realized that was ridiculous. By condemning myself because my baby cried, I was similarly judging every mother whose baby cried to be a failure—which I would never do. Because it's an outrageous criteria for “successful” motherhood. Instead, I had to humble myself and admit that I'm not as cool as I thought. I can't solve every problem for Melody—and even if I could, it wouldn't always be best. Sometimes, as much as I hate to admit it and think about it, she will be sad, regardless of what I do for her. It hurts me to think ahead to worse things that I won't be able to rescue her from, but I know it will be okay. Heavenly Father teaches us and allows us agency to choose; I can try to do the same for my children.

The learning curve for parenthood has been incredibly steep. But the lessons I have already been blessed with have been more than worth it. My understanding of charity has become a bit clearer and I feel I have been able to progress in my efforts to be a little more like my Heavenly Father. They are small steps, but He has let me know that what I am doing is good.

Will I ever be NORMAL again? If NORMAL was my life and spiritual progress prior to Melody, I hope not. I've never really cared for the “Don't change a thing!” expressions. For some people “Don't ever change!” (with 'ever' being underlined three times) was a yearbook favorite. But while reflecting on what people had written, I would find myself thinking “I'm glad you like me the way I am, but don't confine me to being this way forever. I hope I will change, if only for the better.”

So I try not to wish for pre-Melody norms. Because although my bellybutton now seems to resemble its former self, I know that my spirituality has grown in a way that can never be diminished. And those changes dwarf any minor physical changes so as to make them seem irrelevant. “Will my bellybutton ever look normal again?” Psh. Like I care.