The last few months have been challenging for me. I have struggled to be the mother my kids deserve. But you know what's sort of amazing about kids? They love me anyway. They still would rather be next to me than anywhere else in the world most of the time.
I pray that they'll remember the nights we sat and read our scriptures and said a prayer together and had lots of hugs before bed, and let the memories of the nights I sent them to bed abruptly, without any of that, fade away.
I pray that they'll remember making Christmas fudge and personal Valentines, and the favorite dinners on the days I had a little more time, and not cling to the too many nights lately that I've relied on grilled cheese sandwiches and frozen burritos to fill everyones' tummies.
Let them remember the handmade Halloween costumes that took hours to sew, not the week after week of "Sorry, I'll patch them next week" when they pulled out a favorite pair of jeans in the morning, only to realize they still had a big hole in the knee.
Let them remember the quiet moments at the table working through a challenging homework problem together, or the moments that I sat down and read them a favorite book, more clearly than they remember the moments I snapped at them to just get it done already, I'm so tired.
May they take more from the days we do chores together with patience and success than from the days that we impatiently snap and criticize over what's not done, or how its been done.
May they always believe me when I wrap my arms around them and tell them I love them, even though we all know there are times when I am less than great at showing it.
May I keep myself mindful of the fact that Mother Guilt makes me view my own failures and insufficiencies as being both more severe and more frequent than they really are, and that when I kneel down to pray, the Lord reassures me that I'm doing better than I think I am. Discouragement and unnecessary self-criticism are the enemies of productivity and cheerfulness.
Remember that the scars you bare from giving your children mortal life mirror the scars the Savior bares from bringing them immortal life. He is always with you to assist you in the powerful work you do as a mother to these developing souls. When you spend the night restless with worry or fear over your kids, remember that the Savior spent a anguished night alone, while all those who loved him slept, pleading with our Father to take the pain away, if possible. But the greatest works in the universe--those that bring the greatest joys--come with the exercise of agency, and so cannot be completed without pain. But remember that his pain can swallow yours up, his fatigue was overcome so that he might succor you in yours, and you are loved more than you can imagine. You are never alone in this tremendous work, and you are doing better than you think.
I pray that they'll remember the nights we sat and read our scriptures and said a prayer together and had lots of hugs before bed, and let the memories of the nights I sent them to bed abruptly, without any of that, fade away.
I pray that they'll remember making Christmas fudge and personal Valentines, and the favorite dinners on the days I had a little more time, and not cling to the too many nights lately that I've relied on grilled cheese sandwiches and frozen burritos to fill everyones' tummies.
Let them remember the handmade Halloween costumes that took hours to sew, not the week after week of "Sorry, I'll patch them next week" when they pulled out a favorite pair of jeans in the morning, only to realize they still had a big hole in the knee.
Let them remember the quiet moments at the table working through a challenging homework problem together, or the moments that I sat down and read them a favorite book, more clearly than they remember the moments I snapped at them to just get it done already, I'm so tired.
May they take more from the days we do chores together with patience and success than from the days that we impatiently snap and criticize over what's not done, or how its been done.
May they always believe me when I wrap my arms around them and tell them I love them, even though we all know there are times when I am less than great at showing it.
May I keep myself mindful of the fact that Mother Guilt makes me view my own failures and insufficiencies as being both more severe and more frequent than they really are, and that when I kneel down to pray, the Lord reassures me that I'm doing better than I think I am. Discouragement and unnecessary self-criticism are the enemies of productivity and cheerfulness.
Remember that the scars you bare from giving your children mortal life mirror the scars the Savior bares from bringing them immortal life. He is always with you to assist you in the powerful work you do as a mother to these developing souls. When you spend the night restless with worry or fear over your kids, remember that the Savior spent a anguished night alone, while all those who loved him slept, pleading with our Father to take the pain away, if possible. But the greatest works in the universe--those that bring the greatest joys--come with the exercise of agency, and so cannot be completed without pain. But remember that his pain can swallow yours up, his fatigue was overcome so that he might succor you in yours, and you are loved more than you can imagine. You are never alone in this tremendous work, and you are doing better than you think.
1 comment:
I needed to read this tonight!
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