I guess that’s one way of looking at it, but that definition is so oversimplified as to be ridiculous. In fact, I believe there were candy bars involved in the object lesson—seriously, is it really a “sacrifice” to give up a few Hershey’s Kisses for a big Symphony bar? That scarcely reaches the definition of “opportunity cost,” let alone “sacrifice.”

Last month, I set myself a bunch of goals and deadlines on the novel I was revising, and I was falling behind on all my targets. However, I’d also set a goal to go to the temple. Much as I didn’t want to (and subconsciously resisted, giving myself a late start and really messing with my schedule for the rest of the day), I finally got myself out of the door and off to worship.

As I sat inside the beautiful peace of the temple, I recalled how blessed I am to live close to a temple. Growing up in North Carolina, our nearest LDS temple was in Washington, D.C.—a 5+ hour drive, each way. We went once, maybe twice, a year. When I was a teenager, they built a temple about 30 minutes from my parents’ house—and suddenly it wasn’t as much of a sacrifice to attend. These days, I live about the same distance from a temple.

Across the world, many other people make even greater sacrifices than 10 hours in the car, two nights in a hotel, and a weekend of their time to attend the temple and receive the blessings and ordinances there. Sometimes, living in the US with dozens of temples around, it hardly feels like a sacrifice to take a couple hours a month to serve and worship in the temple.

But that day, as I tried to focus not on all the tasks and self-imposed deadlines but on the Holy Spirit around me, I came up with a better definition of sacrifice:

Sacrifice is giving up something you want for something you know is more important.

That day I’d given up something I wanted—to work on a novel that I was really enjoying and wanted to make better—for something I knew was more important. It might not feel like a sacrifice to travel less than an hour round trip, but it’s still a sacrifice to take time out of what I want to do and serve God instead.

And then I realized that was what motherhood is. Motherhood is all about sacrifice: giving up many things that I might want now (a career [sort of], full control of my time, a cleaner house, less laundry, etc., etc.) for something I know is far more important, something that will bring me more joy and will contribute to the world in the most significant way I can—raising good people to lead the next generation.

And that sacrifice, though it’s still hard to make sometimes, is a privilege.

What do you think? How is motherhood a sacrifice for you? How do you define sacrifice?

Photo credit: Washington, D.C., LDS Temple by Richard Rogers

I vowed (silently) that that wouldn’t be me. I didn’t want a big calling right then, with my husband in the bishopric and my kids being 4, 2, and 5 months and already having to struggle through Sunday meetings with little to no help because of Ryan’s responsibilities—and I was pretty stunned to be working in Primary. For perspective, my mom has had a lot of “big” callings on the ward (local) and stake (larger area, cf. diocese) level—but she never had a calling in Primary until a couple years ago. We didn’t do Primary: we did Young Women (12-18 year olds) and Relief Society (adults). Plus, couldn’t I get away from my kids for two hours a week???

Apparently, I was wrong—on all counts. Yesterday I was officially released. It was just time, apparently. The Lord had decided I was finished.

When the Bishop told me last week that I would be released this week, I was pretty shocked—surprised to be released, and surprised at how it felt to know it was coming to an end.

I wanted to stay in Primary. I wanted to be there for the funny things my children say—and they say a lot. I wanted to be there to watch all the kids learn and grow, to see the new 3-year-olds discover the fun of Primary, to stanch the constant turnover in the 30+ positions under our purview. (Ha. This never happens. We did what we could to turn over a full staff.)

When I thought about it this week, I wanted to cry. I expected to on Sunday (yesterday). I didn’t even feel the relief until half an hour before church. When Ryan called my name to stand for my vote of thanks (the custom when releasing people from positions of responsibility in the church), he expected me to cry. (I held it together just fine.)

It wasn’t a long time, but it felt like the end an era to me. It won’t be the same to go to church and not get to see my older two participating in their lessons. And I will miss it. I will miss them—most of all, my own children.

What do you know? I did love Primary.

In this year’s General Relief Society Meeting, Elder Dieter F. Uchtdorf spoke about things that we need to remember, using the image of a forget-me-not flower as a symbol. One of the things we need to remember, he says, is to focus on the wonderful parts of our life:

The lesson here is that if we spend our days waiting for fabulous roses, we could miss the beauty and wonder of the tiny forget-me-nots that are all around us.

This is not to say that we should abandon hope or temper our goals. Never stop striving for the best that is within you. Never stop hoping for all of the righteous desires of your heart. But don’t close your eyes and hearts to the simple and elegant beauties of each day’s ordinary moments that make up a rich, well-lived life.

The happiest people I know are not those who find their golden ticket; they are those who, while in pursuit of worthy goals, discover and treasure the beauty and sweetness of the everyday moments. They are the ones who, thread by daily thread, weave a tapestry of gratitude and wonder throughout their lives. These are they who are truly happy.

What do you think? How do you forget not the beauty and sweetness of today?

Photo by KH1234567890

I know that when I focus on doing my job as a mom and enjoying my children and helping them to enjoy themselves, our lives go a lot easier. But I also know that taking time for myself is absolutely necessary for my sanity. Sometimes it seems like these two principles conflict. Sometimes it feels like the more of myself I give the kids, the more they demand, and the less I can take or save for myself.

But dwelling too much on myself only makes my job as a mother more difficult. The kids get more and more desperate for attention and act out, and I get more and more frustrated. So I’m constantly looking for something in the middle: immersing myself in my kids, then taking time to recoup and regenerate. With our schedules still settling after the start of school, it’ll take a while longer to find what works for us, because that balance is always moving and changing.

What do you think? How do you find a balance?

The sabbath was made for man, and not man for the sabbath. (Mark 2:27)

And sometimes I question whether the sabbath was made for Moms.

I’ve really struggled with hating Sundays. When I was about five, I had my mouth washed out with soap for screaming “I hate church!” After church, my mother felt so bad, she gave me a bowl of ice cream.

I think I need more ice cream.

I think my real trouble started last year while I was still pregnant with Rachel. There was a solid month, maybe longer, where for various reasons, I ended up in tears before church was over. And not happy-feel-the-Spirit-thank-you-for-your-talk! tears. More like, “How am I supposed to wrestle two small children all by my pregnant-with-a-third-lonesome and why the heck are you even giving me a third since anyway I’m clearly dying with the two I already have and I was obviously not made to be a mother and I’m an awful human being…” tears. You get the picture.

Hormones are not my friend. Thanks a lot, fallen world body.

Fastforward about eight months: Rachel is born, church is hard, but MAN am I in a better mood most of the time. No hiding in dark hallways while I spend the entire second hour of church bawling! And then I get slammed with a new calling: Primary president.

There are two kinds of people in this world: those who like working in the Primary (seriously, bless their wonderful hearts) and people on my team (no wonderful hearts on this side of the line). My husband is still in the bishopric (lay ministry of our ward). So our blessed Sabbath begins with meetings. Thankfully, this year our meetings only start at 8 AM (it’s been as early as 6–oy). Ryan goes to this meeting. I spend the hour getting dressed and often bathing or preparing to bathe the children.

At 9 AM, every other Sunday, I’m supposed to attend another meeting. Which Ryan is also supposed to attend. While our 5-, 3- and 1-year-old do what? We had a friend who would stay with them during that hour, but she moved. So what usually happens is that Ryan comes home after his meeting and I go back to the church (luckily only 3 minutes away) and arrive late to the next meeting and look like a slacker. Not that it makes a difference because 90% of the time I have nothing of value to add. The few times I do have something to say, it’s usually a joke. And—really, truly, Johnny Lion—less than a minute after I crack a joke to no response, someone else in the meeting will crack the exact same joke, using my exact same words, and everyone laughs. I don’t even get to make jokes? This is lame.

Once they release me, we have about half an hour to get the children all dressed and out the door to church. Except that Rachel is almost always asleep during this time. The one day a week I could really use her to wake up on the early side, she sleeps in, which makes finishing a nap before 11:00 church a joke of its own. And this time it’s okay if no one laughs. I’m not.

So sometimes if she’s really grumpy and still asleep, I just let her sleep and I miss the first hour of church. If not, I get to spend 70 minutes of church and in the pews with my three kids by myself (okay, I have gotten a lot of help over the months), trying to keep them quiet/friendly/from killing one another. In a whisper. Add to that Rebecca’s major potty training trials lately and over the last six months, I’ve spent probably more of sacrament meeting in my house than I have in my pew, listening to even a complete phrase. Ryan’s biggest struggle is not to fall asleep during Sacrament meeting. Mine is not to apostatize.

After wrestling enjoying the deep spiritual talks of my beloved brothers and sisters Sacrament meeting, I go to two hours of meetings with the children. We aren’t supposed to drink coffee, but I think some of the parents have been slipping their kids chocolate covered espresso beans in the back of the chapel. The concept of reverence is beyond foreign. It’s freakin extraterrestrial.

Every third month, I get to teach the kids a 15-minute lesson: one for the younger kids, one for the older kids. The following month, I conduct the meeting. (I think that might be a joke?) The third month, I either visit individual classes or, you know, I sit and breathe. (I’m grateful to Ryan for taking Rachel during these hours—it could be worse.)

Once church is finally over, I load up the kids in the car (usually with Ryan’s help, but I swear it only recently began occurring to him that I might like some help with this, you know, every week). I get them home, get the big kids a snack and in front of a movie, and rush Rachel into a nap. Or babbling/screaming/kicking in her crib for an hour. Whatever she feels like.

Twice a month (if I’m lucky, these Sundays alternate with my morning meeting Sundays, but obviously I’m not lucky), I then have to prepare for a meeting of my counselors & secretary in my house. Which means I spend the 90 or so minutes between putting Rachel down and the presidency’s arrival picking up all the Goldfish the kids have ground into the carpet, making out a meeting agenda, and bowing to their every! little! whim! for the kids. Then I have my meeting, with children sporadically joining us to monopolize the conversation/climb on me. Then I often get to make dinner. And dessert.

Sunday is supposed to be a day of rest, not wrestling.

Blah blah blah seasons of our life. I know. I know that this is the season of my life, and this too shall pass. There are times to teach and times to learn, as a very wise sister said to one of my friends. I get it. What I’m struggling with is 1.) getting that rest that we’re supposed to (and I so desperately need) to refuel and prepare for the week, and 2.) not hating the season I’m in.

So, any suggestions?

This week I was reading All These Things Shall Give Thee Experience by Neal A. Maxwell (man, I miss him!), and I came across an interesting concept. “Time is clearly not our natural dimension,” he says. “Thus it is that we are never really at home in time. Alternately, we find ourselves wishing to hasten the passage of time or to hold back the dawn. . . . [W]e are clearly not at home in time—because we belong to eternity” (11). I’m glad to hear that problem isn’t unique to me, from wanderlust or mommybrain or what have you. Although this life is a tiny piece of eternity, the experiences we gain here should not be rushed through. They are invaluable to our eternal progress—especially in our families.

This brought to mind a quotation, source long since lost, that a good friend’s mother shared with her:

Wise is the woman who cherishes each season
and cheerfully anticipates the next.

My friend shared this quotation during a lesson in church on having patience. Most of us in the room were mothers, many with young children—and I think we all recognized the very common human tendency to want to rush or move on through the difficult times of parenting.

Focusing solely on the future, the next season of our lives, robs many of us of the joy of today. We dwell on the difficulties that bedevil us now: lack of sleep, kids’ eating problems, overwhelming amounts of housework, lack of time with our children and/or spouse, kids’ tantrums, and on and on. We could all likely spend hours listing the things about motherhood that leave us dissatisfied. For me, at least, after I’ve done that, all I’m left with is dissatisfaction.

When I stop brooding over the “bad” parts of motherhood, however, suddenly my charge is less of a chore. When I look at the cute and sweet things that my son already does, when I marvel at the ways he’s grown and continues to grow every day, I don’t think about the drudgery that it was.

Perhaps hindsight is 20/20; perhaps memory is blind. But as I look back over Hayden’s brief life, my chief regret (aside, possibly, from mildly spoiling him ) is not enjoying him more, even during the difficult times.

So today, I’ll savor the season. Today, I will do the work of motherhood, and I will choose to be happy. Tomorrow I’ll be able to look back with fond memories of the time I spent today. And I’ll be ready for the challenges—and joys—that tomorrow will surely bring.

Who does God’s work will get God’s pay,
However long may seem the day,
However weary be the way.
No mortal hand, God’s hand can stay,
He may not pay as others pay,
In gold, or lands, or raiments gay,
In goods that perish and decay;
But God’s high wisdom knows a way,
And this is sure, let come what may—
Who does God’s work will get God’s pay.

I testify to you that God’s pay is the best pay that this world or any other world knows anything about.

The poem and the quote come from a talk about putting God first in our lives. So often when I hear about putting the Lord first, or doing the Lord’s work, I think of the noble pursuits in theology and evangelism and service—all things I really don’t have as much time and effort and me available for with the amount of those things motherhood requires. So, I wonder, am I not putting the Lord first? Am I not giving enough?

But as I read the full address this quote comes from, I came across a paragraph that supported a belief I’ve clung to for reassurance. (Having it set out as a doctrine of my faith makes me feel a little better too .) (Emphasis mine again, too.)

You mothers who are especially charged with the righteous rearing of the youth of Zion, are you not putting God first when you honor your divine calling by not leaving the homefront to follow the ways of the world? Our mothers put God first when they fill their highest mission within the walls of their own homes.

While there’s always more we can do for the Lord, knowing that the biggest, most me-consuming pursuit of my life is serving Him helps me not only feel better about the state of my life, but also remind me just how seriously I should take this calling.

What do you think? What helps you to remember how important motherhood is? What makes you feel better about the amount of time and effort you devote to Sisyphus childrearing?

Photo by Heidi & Matt

The Fifth Blogoversaryfestathon continues! WaterBrook Press sent me a review copy of God Gave Us You, and I’m going to pass it along to one lucky winner (even though I really don’t want to).

God Gave Us You is a really cute book to help teach a young child about where they come from. Obviously, it comes from a religious perspective, but it’s not wedded to any particular religion. (It does teach that children were with God before they came to Earth.)

It explains how the child in the story (Little Cub, a polar bear cub) grew in his mother’s tummy and was born in the hospital (no more details than that). It’s a sweet story and a good way to give a small child a simple explanation to the question “Where did I come from?”

I’ve heard they have a similar book to help explain a new sibling, called God Gave Us Two.

Would you like a copy of God Gave Us You? Comment below to enter!

For additional entries:

• Follow this blog (see the sidebar) and leave a comment saying you did.
• Tweet about this post and leave a comment saying you did with a link to the Tweet itself.
• Mention this contest on your blog or Facebook and leave a comment saying you did with a link to the FB or blog post.

Entries (aka comments) must be received by midnight on Friday, July 15, 2011. Winner to be announced Monday, July 18, 2011.

It’s also the last day to enter the Tom & Drew Boys giveaway!

In a move that would make my wife proud, I turned to the blogosphere to look for a consensus on the rewards and challenges of being a father.

The hardest things about being a father:

• Knowing your wife is a better parent than you.
• Finding the time to give everyone the attention they deserve.
• Being afraid you’re doing it “wrong.”
• Worrying about the temporal needs of the family.
• Worrying about the spiritual needs of the family.

The best things about being a father:

• That huge smile and laughter as I come in the door from a long day at work.
• The instant forgiveness from a child after sending him to his room.
• The funny things kids say (see here, here and here).
• Just spending time together, doing thins I love doing as a kid, like playing with Legos, but can’t really get away with as an adult.

But being a father isn’t all fun in games. In April General Conference in 2004, Elder L. Tom Perry outlined three roles for fathers, and they’re a tall order.

1. The father is the head in his family.

“Fatherhood is leadership, the most important kind of leadership. It has always been so; it always will be so. Father, with the assistance and counsel and encouragement of your eternal companion, you preside in the home. It is not a matter of whether you are most worthy or best qualified, but it is a matter of [divine] appointment.”

Your leadership in the home must include leading in family worship.

“You preside at the meal table, at family prayer. You preside at family home evening; and as guided by the Spirit of the Lord, you see that your children are taught correct principles. It is your place to give direction relating to all of family life.

“You give father’s blessings. You take an active part in establishing family rules and discipline. As a leader in your home you plan and sacrifice to achieve the blessing of a unified and happy family. To do all of this requires that you live a family-centered life.”

President Joseph F. Smith counseled brethren to lead their families in a weekly Family Home Evening. “If the Saints obey this counsel,” he said, “we promise that great blessings will result. Love at home and obedience to parents will increase. Faith will be developed in the hearts of the youth of Israel and they will gain power to combat the evil influences and temptations which beset them.”

Along with this role, I want to say just a little about discipline. President Harold B. Lee said, “A father may have to discipline his child, but he should never do it in anger. He must show forth an increase of love thereafter, lest that one so reproved were to esteem him to be an enemy (see D&C 121:43). The Lord forbid the feeling of a child that his mother or father is an enemy.”

This ties into Elder Perry’s next role for fathers:

2. The father is a teacher.

Elder Perry’s talk led me to a pamphlet first put out by the church in 1973 called “Father, Consider Your Ways.” Even though it’s almost 40 years old now, the advice still rings true today. On this role, the pamphlet said:

It must be emphasized that as a father, you are always teaching. For good or ill your family learns your ways, your beliefs, your heart, your ideas, your concerns. Your children may or may not choose to follow you, but the example you give is the greatest light you hold before your children, and you are accountable for that light.

At one time a young father acted somewhat unkindly to his wife. Three days later this same man saw his three-year-old daughter use his very words in acting unkindly to her mother. The man was sobered and came to ask himself this question, “Do I love my children and family enough to repent, to change my life for their welfare?”

We are also supposed to help children recognize promptings of the spirit. I found a good list of a few ways to do this (source missing, sorry!):

1. Help them learn to pray
2. Keep the peace
3. Teach the gospel at their level
4. Lead them in wholesome family activities
5. Talk to them at every opportunity
6. Listen for spiritual promptings yourself

Finally for Elder Perry’s roles:

3. The father is the temporal provider.

Elder Perry strongly cautioned against mothers working for a second income (i.e. one that wasn’t necessary to provide the basic needs in life):

President Ezra Taft Benson expressed it clearly: “The Lord has charged men with the responsibility to provide for their families in such a way that the wife is allowed to fulfill her role as mother in the home. … Sometimes the mother works outside of the home at the encouragement, or even insistence, of her husband … [for the] convenience[s] that the extra income can buy. Not only will the family suffer in such instances, brethren, but your own spiritual growth and progression will be hampered.”

If I can be so bold, there’s one more fatherly role I’d add to Elder Perry’s list:
4. The father is a husband.

“Father, Consider Your Ways” points out:

The obligations, the burdens, the responsibility of being a proper father may seem overwhelming. Fortunately, you are not required to preside and judge and act without counsel, without assistance. You have a wife—a companion, a counselor, a partner, a helpmeet, a friend.

Is she one with you? Do you thank the Lord daily for her? Do you keep the covenants you made with her and with the Lord in the temple? Do you always strive to keep your thoughts and words and actions pure? Do you realize that when you offend her in any way it is like offending yourself, since you are one?

Does she know of your love for her? Is your relationship one of continual courtship? Do you regularly spend time together—alone, where your expression and actions reassure her of your appreciation and reliance on her companionship? Do you exercise righteous leadership with her?

Do you always keep sight of your marriage goal, the creation of an eternal unit bound together by love and by the power and ordinances of the priesthood?

President Gordon B. Hinckley taught, “A good marriage requires time. It requires effort. You have to work at it. You have to cultivate it. You have to forgive and forget. You have to be absolutely loyal to one another.”

Finally, President Howard W. Hunger said, “Indeed, one of the greatest things a father can do for his children is to love their mother.”

And here are my other thoughts from today:

Children in today’s world need all the help they can get. Studies have shown that one family factor is strongly correlated with:

• Not getting straight A’s
• Repeating a grade
• Dropping out of school
• Obesity
• higher delinquency and aggression test scores
• Abuse or neglect, emotional or physical
• poverty
• Drinking alcohol and smoking tobacco
• significantly more illicit drug use
• Teen pregnancy

What was the one factor correlated with all of these circumstances? Not having a father in the home. (Statistics http://www.fatherhood.org)

It’s no wonder that Heavenly Father intended families to have two parents—because that’s how they function best. In the Proclamation to the World on the Family, we read:

By divine design, fathers are to preside over their families in love and righteousness and are responsible to provide the necessities of life and protection for their families. Mothers are primarily responsible for the nurture of their children. In these sacred responsibilities, fathers and mothers are obligated to help one another as equal partners. Disability, death, or other circumstances may necessitate individual adaptation.

Dads belong in the family. It’s the ideal situation, and even if not all of us can enjoy the ideal, it’s important to recognize and honor fathers, especially today. It’s easy to find fault with fathers—and the media is a big help there. But for all the negative attention that dads get, I know that there are lots of fathers out there stepping up and doing a great job.

How can we honor the fathers in our lives?

• We can pray for them.
• We can get to know them.
• We can honor them, obeying and listening to them.
• We can forgive them.
• We can love them.

Fathers may not realize their influence. But at least in my house, I can see it every day. This week alone, two of my sisters and I have talked about how things as little as phrases our father uses stay with us. Last week, Rachel heard the door open and she couldn’t see who had come in. “Da!” she shouted “Da! Da!” She does the same when she sees her father on the stand during Sacrament Meeting.

Rebecca’s favorite role to play is Buzz Lightyear. We were assigning roles to the rest of the family, and I asked if Daddy should be Zurg (sorry if I just spoiled the twist in Toy Story 2 for you). No, Rebecca reasoned, Daddy should be Andy because he’s nice.

But my favorite story is from Hayden: you ask him what he wants to be when he grows up, and his first (and often only) answer is “A father.” (And yes, “father,” not “dad or “daddy.”)

In the April 1999 General Conference [of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints], Elder Jeffrey R. Holland gave a talk called “The Hands of the Fathers,” where he relayed several stories of real fathers doing their best to fulfill that divine appointment, and the impact that they had in the eyes and lives of their children.

Three such stories:

A young Laurel I met on a conference assignment not long ago wrote to me after our visit and said, “I wish my dad knew how much I need him spiritually and emotionally. I crave any kind comment, any warm personal gesture. I don’t think he knows how much it would mean to me to have him take an active interest in what is going on in my life, to offer to give me a blessing, or just spend some time together. I know he worries that he won’t do the right thing or won’t say the words well. But just to have him try would mean more than he could ever know. I don’t want to sound ungrateful because I know he loves me. He sent me a note once and signed it ‘Love, Dad.’ I treasure that note. I hold it among my dearest possessions.”

“Much in my chaotic childhood was uncertain, but one thing I knew for sure: that my dad loved me. That certainty was the anchor of my young life. I came to know and love the Lord because my father loved him. I have never called anyone a fool or taken the Lord’s name in vain because he told me the Bible said I shouldn’t. I have always paid my tithing because he taught me it was a privilege to do so. I have always tried to take responsibility for my mistakes because my father did. Even though he was estranged from the Church for a [time], at the end of his life he served a mission and worked faithfully in the temple. In his will he said that any money left over from taking care of his [family] should go to the Church. He loved the Church with all of his heart. And because of him, so do I.”

“Often as I watch my son watch me, I am taken back to moments with my own dad, remembering how vividly I wanted to be just like him. I remember having a plastic razor and my own can of foaming cream, and each morning I would shave when he shaved. I remember following his footsteps back and forth across the grass as he mowed the lawn in summer.

“Now I want my son to follow my lead, and yet it terrifies me to know he probably will. Holding this little boy in my arms, I feel a ‘heavenly homesickness,’ a longing to love the way God loves, to comfort the way He comforts, to protect the way He protects. The answer to all the fears of my youth was always ‘What would Dad do?’ Now that I have a child to raise I am counting on a Heavenly Father to tell me exactly that.”

The responsibilities of fatherhood can be heavy. The Proclamation later states: “Husbands and wives—mothers and fathers—will be held accountable before God for the discharge of [our family] obligations.”

Just like mothers, fathers may feel inadequate to these responsibilities at times, but as Elder L. Tom Perry has pointed out, “It is not a matter of whether you are most worthy or best qualified, but it is a matter of [divine] appointment.”

I conclude with one more thought from Elder Holland’s talk:

And, brethren, even when we are not “the best of men,” even in our limitations and inadequacy, we can keep making our way in the right direction because of the encouraging teachings set forth by a Divine Father and demonstrated by a Divine Son. With a Heavenly Father’s help we can leave more of a parental legacy than we suppose.

I testify that when we do all that we can as parents, trusting in and relying on the Lord for guidance and sustenance, Jesus Christ will justify and sanctify our efforts. He can make us more than we are as fathers, mothers and people, and He can make our children and our families whole. Fathers matter. Temple covenants can bind our families together forever. The priesthood is real. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.