I was reading in the John 6 the other day and came to verse 38. Jesus Christ says: For I came down from heaven, not to do mine own will, but the will of him that sent me.
Pretty basic concept, right? He came to do what His Father asked Him to.
I started to think about myself in this context. What am I doing? Am I doing what God sent me to do? That is a question that all of us will be held accountable for.
I'm not sure where to start in my story about becoming a mother. I'm not talking about giving birth and taking care of a baby. I am talking about "becoming" a mother; growing into this role; loving this role; valuing it above any other title that I could be given. This has been a process for me, as I'm sure it is for most people. I did't get married with the idea that I would love being a stay-at-home mother. I wasn't sure about this whole motherhood thing, but that is a topic for another day. My beginning is vastly different from where I am now. God has led me to the place of most value to my soul. He has taught me things that I didn't know about and hadn't considered. He has helped me to realize how much I have always wanted this, but didn't know that "this" was. I can tell you, now, that "this" is Motherhood. It is simple. It is beautiful. It is something that can never be counterfeited. There is no adequate substitute for motherhood. It is divine.
I think I have always wanted to be a mother, but it got a little lost and buried along the way until I met Katelyn. Those seeds of motherhood, that I believe were planted in me before this mortal life, began to grow. They grew and grew and grew. After we had Lincoln I felt that I had become much more mature in this idea and I reveled in the chance to have another baby. I finally felt comfortable with how God had made me. I didn't need approval from others. I finally understood that the way I mothered was a result of how God made me. It was acceptable to Him and I embraced that knowledge I had always felt deep inside me.
Some of these ideas are not popular in the "motherhood of the 21st century." Here a few examples, but I won't go on and on. Every time I have a baby, I can't be away from them; like at all. I don't want to leave them with anyone. I am ultra protective. I like to hold them constantly. I like to nurse them, for as long as they want as often as they want. I like to rock them and rock them and rock them. I don't like to hear them cry and usually go to great lengths to assure their comfort. I don't sleep a lot for many, many months, but I have learned that there are things that matter to me more than sleep. I realize that they are transitioning from a premortal life with our Heavenly parents to this life, where they don't know how to communicate or fend for themselves. I would imagine that getting used to their new mortal body can be challenging at times and this new idea of discomfort is probably scary in some ways. I know that not every parent feels this way. I'm sure that babies usually grow up fine even if they are allowed to cry and not held a ton. But, I also feel that my babies have helped me discover this about myself. They have helped me discover the mother God wanted me to be.
So as I thought about these ideas, I was really geared up for baby #4. I felt it would be our last and I wanted to enjoy this baby to the fullest. I knew that when the last one grew up it would be heartbreaking to have so many "lasts." I am not the mother who will cheer when my youngest goes to 1st grade. I will be sad, very sad.
The reason I am writing all about this is because I want you to understand, even vaguely, how much I value my role as a mother. It's really all I do. I used to work as a nurse, but didn't want to be tied to an employer. I only worked a few times a month, but I wanted to be available to be with my children and husband ALL the time. I have the blessing of being able to do that. I remember wondering if I would miss it. When people would ask where I worked, and I said the NICU, I would usually get a great response. People liked the idea and it made me sound very cool. I wondered if I would be sad to be stripped of that title. I wasn't. I realized how much I loved being a mother and that's all I needed. I can't even say I have any major hobbies that aren't somehow included in my physical health or homemaking responsibilities. I love being a mother. I love being at home. I feel incredibly fulfilled by this.
So, back to the scripture. When I think of doing my Father's will, I know that a big part of that is having and rearing children. I am incredible blessed to have that opportunity in this life. I believe that God wants us to WANT to be parents more than anything. That is His most prized title and He wants us to become like Him and our Heavenly Mother. There is no more worthy goal or aspiration, in my opinion.
So, all of the sudden I am faced with this idea. What do I want more? Do I want Eli here right now? Do I want to care for him and love him; hold him and nurture him? Would my heart be whole if he were here and I had that chance? YES! Yes. yes....
But what about "doing the will of Him that sent me?" What is His will? I know exactly what it is. I know this through priesthood blessings and personal revelation. I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Eli is not supposed to be here. He is supposed to be in the spirit world, right now, at this time.
So, the thing I wanted most, the opportunity to be his mother....does that trump me wanting to do what God has asked. It doesn't. I actually want what God wants more. I can't emphasize how much I want Eli here. Can I? Haven't I? Are you confused about it? But to want something more than that is surprising. I want God's will more than my own and I am tremendously reassured by this. I have never wanted for something the way I want for Eli. It's hard to understand unless you lose a child....I guess it would have to lose him for you to understand it.
I know that I have do more than just want God's will more than my own will. I have to live like I want God's will more and that it hard to do right now, because I want him so desperately.
Part of my thought process, in the past, went a little something like this: When we turn our will over to God, we are giving up something that isn't particularly righteous. Maybe we are giving over our vanity when we embrace our "mommy body" after having children. Maybe we are giving over our praise of men, when we decline a job promotion so we can spend more time with our family. Maybe we are giving up our greed when we choose to live within our means and buy a house we can actually afford.
But all of the sudden, I am supposed to give over a piece of my motherhood? The thing that I am actually supposed to want and desire above all else. The very thing you sent me here to gain....I am supposed to give you a chunk of that? Wait a second. That doesn't seem very nice.
But I smart enough to know that I am "giving" nothing over. First of all, Eli was never solely mine to give....even though it has felt like that. I know better. (That doesn't mean I feel better, but at least I know better). Motherhood and those feelings is not decreased when your child is gone. It is increased. You learn to want for something more than you ever have. I have never struggled with fertility, but I wonder if this is a common denominator in these struggles. The want. God wants us to want it. He wants us to value that role above all other titles and positions. I did value it before I had Eli, but I had never felt the want like I have now. I value it in a deeper and more sacred place than I did before. It is more complete and has more substance than it would if Eli were a healthy 6 month old right now and my life had gone according to my plan.
Motherhood has less to do with the number of children you have, but rather, your ability to develop and nurture the God given desire to mother. There are many women, with no children, that know more about motherhood than those with children. That kind of development is not stunted or stifled by not having the amount of children you want or even having any children at all. It is measured by a standard that only God understands. We see a woman with many children and assume that she values her role, which she probably does. But what about the woman who only has one. Is she less of a mother because her number (right now) is smaller. What about a woman who has no children? God is concerned about our development and not so much our table size.
So, doing the Father's will actually is helping me to value this precious role even more than I did before. My Father has given me what I want. He gave me Eli. He gave me a greater my motherhood and He carefully helping it develop into what it can be. I hurt more than I ever have because my want is so big, but I always remember that the pendulum swings both ways.
