There has been a lot of backlash about the Mormon message entitled "You Never Know." Mothers I know were touched or they were bothered. Some felt it was an over glorification of self-sacrifice and that the examples were not true to life; others wept in recognition and felt spirtually washed over by Pres. Hinkley's encouraging postscript. Right now the season of my life is no longer the season depicted in the video. I actually have segments of time and energy with which I must ponder how to best spend or consecrate (or how to best justify delaying the laundry) instead of living in the crisis to crisis / never a moment alone phase of a mother of small children -- how I miss those days!... but that's a posting for another time. Now, I still have my fair share of crazy afternoons and evenings after the children come home from school, but I think the time of my life which most mirrored the video may have been when I was a 30-something new bishop's wife with four little one's at home. Usually the hardest day of all for me was none other than the sabbath. I was wont to locking myself in my own bedroom for a little mommy time-out after church, until something changed and I proactively turned our sabbaths and my attitude around. The Lord helped me. Here is my journal entry from May 1, 2006.
Sometimes it's hard being the bishop's wife. Sometimes you feel like you're not always on the forefront of your husband's mind. He gets consumed. He feels for the people. Sometimes he calls them 'his people' sometimes 'our people.' It's not about ownership, it's about stewardship, but it's such a large stewardship that it kind of owns him.
He has worries and concerns, but he can't usually discuss them with me. So I support. I don't always know when he'll be home on Sundays -- so I should be actively patient and prepared at all times. If I don't bend -- if I never wait -- if I and the children always do our own thing without him --we won't seem like 'we' anymore -- and then the sacrifice will be too great.
I understand that Mormon women have a history of being strong and standing on their own feet -- whether it was because their husbands were on missions or in the case of my parents -- occupied by supporting the family and fulfilling leadership callings and all that comes with that.
I know I've got that kind of strength in me -- it's in my blood -- and there's some form of freedom to it even. However, to make it work,... I need to feel willing to work without resentment.
Yesterday I began to resent. I'd had a busy weekend of going on a camp-out with the girls for girl scouts, then going to the opera for our date,...consequently not a lot of cleaning or sleeping happened Friday or Saturday. Saturday night, I was told we were hosting a bishop's fireside the next day.
Sunday mornings are hard -- always have been, always will be as long as the adversary has anything to do with it -- kind of like temple trips...Anyway, after a particularly horrid Sunday morning where I screamed at my pre-teenager for spending 45 minutes in the bathroom, I went to church. After church, my 5 year old would not come with me to the car. Instead he was racing through the halls at clip speed. When a counselor in the Stake Presidency 'caught' him -- he still fought and squirmed. I got him and my boy kicked me all the way out the door. Needless to say, after a bite to eat, I needed a little nap. While trying to nap the girls were fighting over the computer, my 8 year old was freaking out about a spider, and her little brother wanted to play something. I finally just asked for 5 minutes of quiet.
During those 5 minutes I thought about the sacrifices our family was asked to make -- not having a husband/dad around on what used to be a family day (the most prominent in my mind) as well as my sacrifice of personal space as a mother and all that still had to happen to feed my family and make the house presentable before 7 o'clock.
Then I began to pray. I had asked for my daughter's forgiveness and tried to repent of losing my temper over the sacrament but it hadn't been the most spiritual day. It had been fraught with conflict. But as I pondered about Sabbaths and sacrifice during my begged-for few minutes of silence, I realized -- we're not giving it up -- we're not throwing it away -- we're giving it to a greater purpose than self-gratification. We're giving ourselves to our children, to the Lord -- we're not putting our time, personal space, comfort, and convenience in a garbage can or on a shelf to collect dust -- we're channeling it for God's purposes -- and if it's something to lay on an altar to be burned -- it's still an investment -- the Lord's glory is what grows -- and we don't diminish either. So why feel deprived of my lusts? My time and talents aren't being shipped off without a return address once I take on another name -- even if my roles always seem the supportive kind...The Lord wants me to be creative (God-like) in using my role to teach my children, to magnify my calling, to make the world a better place every day.
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