Compassion

One of my goals has always been to have more patience.  I remember worrying that I would abuse my first child and I set up an appointment to talk with someone about it.  I remember clear as day being asked, “Have you ever prayed for more patience?”  Of course I had!  I prayed for it ALL THE TIME!  I said as much and with a little grin, he responded with, “Well how do you think you’re going to get it?”

I stopped praying for it.  Instead, my prayers became more, “Heavenly Father, I should really be more humble.  Could you please help me to be more humble? …. but without humbling me, k?”

After a couple of years (yes, years), I realized that I hadn’t been growing emotionally and spiritually without the intense trials.  I wasn’t as naive as President Eyring was when he asked for mountains to climb.   I was afraid to face what upcoming trials I worried were around the corner and it took me a few months to garner the courage to ask Heavenly Father to help me grow again.

A few kids later, I was still on a quest for greater patience.  I marveled when a sister in Relief Society said that she had been a yeller when she first had kids, but now nothing fazed her.  A few weeks later, I laid down on my pillow and a pungent poop odor reached my nose.  I looked around and realized that it was smeared all over my pillow.  I had been doing pretty good in the whole patience department until, however, I faced the excrement all over my pillow.  My four year old at the time was struggling in the bowel movement part, including the wiping part and would end up smearing it places… my pillow was the last straw.  I came unglued.  Then, I felt guilty about not being patient and was even more frustrated with myself.

I called the sister from Relief Society and asked her what she did to garner more patience.  She wasn’t helpful.  She said that it came because she’d had six kids.  By this time, I’d had more than six kids and didn’t want to wait until the end of raising them to have patience.  I told myself, “I need patience now.”

No the irony of my thoughts wasn’t lost on me.

I thought back to where I had been and where I was at that moment and realized that I had experienced growth.  I was more patient.  God wasn’t done with me.

Yes, this post is labeled as “compassion” and not “patience.”  We need to have compassion for ourselves (and patience).  We need to believe that we are a work in progress and that He is creating something great in us.  We need to stop beating ourselves up for our parenting errors and know that as we rely on our Father, he can make up the difference.

When I was taking an online parenting class, a peer responded to my worry and fear that I might be ruining my children.  I loved her thought and told her I would probably quote her again and again (and I have).  She said, “I don’t wrestle too much with asking myself if I’m screwing up with my kids.  During my husband’s first deployment, I decided that the Lord sent my kids to me because we will learn and grow best with each other.  I also decided that since the Lord knows all of us so intimately, He was aware of the things I would mess up, and ultimately, He is okay with those mistakes.  I truly believe He gave me kids that can handle my parenting–either they’ll just be fine, because they are resilient and hardy, or they’ll be able to afford the needed therapy to make peace with everything.”

Do I believe that Heavenly Father knows me personally?  YES.  Does he know my weaknesses?  Yes.  Then does he know the perfect way to pair me up with my children to give me the exact life lessons that I need (and maybe the perfect lessons my children need)? Of course.

I’m still not perfect in the patience department, but I’m still working on it.  We just need to keep on trying.

I love this little story that I read online last week:

One Sunday morning at a small Southern church, the new pastor called on one of his deacons to lead in the opening prayer. The deacon stood up, bowed his head and said, “Lord I hate buttermilk.”

The pastor opened one eye and wondered where this was going. The deacon continued, “Lord I hate lard.”Now the pastor was totally perplexed. The deacon continued, “Lord, I ain’t too crazy about plain flour. But after you mix ‘em all together and bake ‘em in a hot oven, I love biscuits.”

Lord, help us to realize when life gets hard, when things come up that we don’t like, whenever we don’t understand what you are doing, that we need to wait to see what you are making. After you get through the mixing and the baking, it’ll probably be better than biscuits.