Patience

Have you ever seen The Mummy? You know, that movie with Brendan Fraser? It is a late 90's movie that I liked as a young teenager. One of my favorite lines (totally cheesy now, by the way) occurs when they are being chased by some sort of mummy/undead guys. The main female is trying to find or interpret (I can't remember) something out of this ancient book of the dead/living (again, can't remember which) and Brendan Fraser's is urging her to hurry. She sings out "Patience is a virtue!" and he says "Not right now it isn't!" I thought that was so funny. But that isn't what this post is about. This post is about patience. And whenever I think about patience that line always comes to mind for some reason.

Nothing has taught me patience faster or more effectively than being a mother.

Patience with myself.

Patience with my son.

Patience with other people. Period.

I always knew I wasn't a super patient person. It was always something I admired about my mom. She has it in spades. It is always something I disliked about my dad. He didn't have much. And I have to say I was a little more like my dad than my mom in that way. Which is probably why I disliked the characteristic so much in him.

Being a mom has taught me to be patient with myself. I mess up. I make mistakes. I get angry. I yell. I huff off in anger. And then I take a deep breath and say "Self, that was wrong. Try again."

Being a mom has taught me to be patient with my son. He is only a baby. When he screams or cries he doesn't do it to bug me. He doesn't do it because he is being naughty or malicious. He does it because he is scared, or confused, or hungry, or cold, or something is happening that he doesn't like. He has two modes: happy because things are going the way he wants them to go and upset because they aren't. When he is happy he is all smiles. When he is upset he cries. That is all he knows. I have to be patient with him, teach him how to calm down, and give him more tools for expressing what he is really feeling. But that will take time.

Being a mom has taught me to be patient and more understanding of other people. When I was in the midst of my struggle with infertility and being a new teacher I posted once about a bad day I had had. And I stand by that post. It was a crappy day! People have bad days whether they have kids or not. And there was this woman who made a comment to the effect of "Well, your day couldn't have been that bad, or at least not as bad as mine. At least you get to go home and get a break. The hardest job in the world is being a mom and sometimes I regret having kids because it is just so hard. So actually you're lucky. But having kids is nice too."

That felt like a slap in the face because all I wanted at the time was kids! And you know what? I judged her. I thought to myself what a terrible mother she must be because she felt that way about her children and her position as a stay at home mom. I thought she just didn't know how good she had it and how hard infertility was and that she just didn't understand.

Well she didn't understand how hard infertility was. But guess what? I didn't understand how hard mothering young children was! And now I know. It is hard! It takes a great deal of patience. And I am tired. I have not had any sort of time away from my sweet Austin in over a week because he has been sick. All day and night I have been on call. I didn't see any of my friends. I didn't go to the gym and exercise. I stayed home. And I was lonely. And I am tired and I feel like I just need a break! And that poor woman who I mentioned earlier probably felt what I am feeling only 10 times worse. How could I have sat in judgement of her?! I feel pretty bad about it now.

But being a mother has taught me patience with others. I don't know what burdens they carry in their hearts. I don't know what it is like to walk a mile in their shoes. But until I do I will try to be patient with them. I will be patient with them even if I disagree or disapprove because who am I to say their struggle isn't valid just because I don't have the same struggles?

Patience really is a virtue. It is one I will have to spend my life cultivating and I can't say it is easy and I can't say I am thankful for all the experiences that are helping me to cultivate it in my life but I know from experience that one day I will be thankful. I just have to be patient and wait for that day to come :)

Tragedy

My heart breaks for the families of those slain in Connecticut. I have never shed tears at the breaking of news story, but I shed tears for this one. I have no words. But in my scripture study last night I read this:

Revelation 21:3-4

And I heard a great voice out of heaven saying, Behold, the tabernacle of God is with men, and he will ^adwell with them, and they shall be his people, and ^bGod himself shall be with them, and be their God. And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more ^adeath, neither ^bsorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more ^cpain: for the former things are passed away.

I can only imagine their pain, it must be great. I can only imagine their sorrow. But Christ knows their sorrow. And someday, he will wipe the tears from their eyes and give them understanding. I don't even know what to pray for. I guess I will pray that God will give them what they need right now.

On Wearing Pants

I still don't know if I will be wearing pants to church on Sunday. Maybe I will. Maybe I won't. But a wonderful woman I know wrote this on her blog. I couldn't have said it better and believe me-- I have been trying to think of what to say. So I hope she doesn't mind if I copy her words. You can read her original here. She adds a great personal experience at the beginning which I loved. But here is the part that is what I would like to say as well (in her words):

I don’t resonate with the general feminist stance on the role of women in the church. And that’s all I’ll say about that. But I will say this about the people who do agree. I’ve read and heard their words. I know them. I’ve befriended them.  

And you know something? They, on the whole, are more thoughtful, more understanding, more introspective, slower to anger, slower to judge, more loving, more Christ-like than most of the “conventional” Mormons I have met. What’s more, these odd-balls, who seem always to interrupt the flow of Mormon culture, have inspired me in a way that has, over the years, built this great sieve of compassion within my mind through which my experience of humanity passes through. I am more like Christ because of them. The ones we so often consider controversial, too-sensitive, too malcontent, spiritually offensive even, have been my spiritual guides toward eternal perspective.  

I know one thing for sure about these souls, and more specifically about women who face struggles with reconciling gender equality. They are authentic. They aren’t making it up. And you know who else knows this? Christ. He suffered their pains just as they face them now, so He knows. Will we then, simply because we haven’t walked in their shoes, claim that their struggle is ill-founded? Will you tell Christ that too? He who bore that pain for and with them? Who bore your own pain as well? 

It’s not about the pants. It is about the pants. To me, it doesn’t really matter what it’s about. These precious souls are suffering. I will wear pants for them because I love them. I will bear possible judgment for my actions because I love them. Maybe not a single sister in my current ward is struggling. But then again, maybe one is. And maybe she feels alone. She might even be too frightened to wear pants herself. Is my search for the one worth the likely possibility that people will draw the wrong conclusion about my participation in such a “protest”?  

I’ve seen a number of well-meaning but misguided responses to the pants movement. One, the argument that this “protest” is disrespectful to the sanctity of our Sunday meetings, sacrament specifically. My thoughts are that the Sacrament is about communing with Christ. What else can we bring to the sacrament table but those things with which we struggle? Yes, the intention may be two-fold. It is, for many, a call for attention to those things with which they struggle. And you know what? That’s okay. Because the Sacrament was instituted because of our imperfection. Do we not also call attention to ourselves when we don't take the sacrament because of our suffering that makes us feel too far removed from Chirst's mercy? Well, I can tell you that those who feel ostrasized for their sentiments on female equality in the church often do feel removed from His love, and especially from the love of others. I've seen their tears with my own eyes. And the bottom line is it's being brushed aside as "sinful" or "testimony damaging." Too many want to shut the conversation down because it threatens the fabric of their testimonies. The beauty inherent here is that we all, whether pants or skirt wearers, will be meeting at His table, petitioning whether quietly or openly to that same God. The right people will hear the real message. I hear. The humble and charitable will hear. But most importantly, He hears. 

There are going to be many who have looked, are looking, and will look at those with pants with pity or even anger. Probably their meditations will be interrupted. Perhaps even their ability to perceive the Spirit. But the walk for everyone is a solitary one. What we choose to look at on our path is up to us. The more critical players in this are the ones who are hurting. And their pain is very very real.  

Don’t you just want to put your arms around them and tell them that you love them and that you understand what it’s like to struggle?

I do. So I'm going, with my pants-clad legs, for them. An embrace. They that be whole need not a physician, but they that are sick. We, them, you, him, her, I. All are sick spiritually. Who is right concerning womens' roles in our church is not my concern, and I will not make an ultimate declaration about what is when it comes to gender and the Church.Ultimatums are dangerous. They stunt the growth of our souls and inhibit our journey toward becoming more like Him. 

So I’m here, sisters, brothers. I've heard you with an open heart. You are not alone. I want to help you bear your struggles, and if wearing pants can be a balm of Gilead for you, I will wear them. I love you.

I love you.

Time for Some Honesty

I need to recommit, reassess, think about some things in my life that are making me unhappy. I pinned this article on pinterest a while ago and right after I did I actually started practicing some of the principles it teaches. And I was happy.

Then I sort of let one thing slip (bed making). Then another (calling a friend or family member each day). Then another (setting an intention for each day). Then my sister died. And since then it has all gone up in smoke. Now all I do is have sentimental items displayed because they are part of my decoration and I have at least managed to keep reading my scriptures and saying my prayers at least 6 out of 7 nights in a week. Usually I am 7 for 7 but sometimes I slip. I think if I had let that go I might have spiraled into an even worse depression than I am already in.

Because I have to face the music. I am depressed and here is how I know:

• I eat. All day. Anything sweet. Anything fatty. Multiple times a day. And guess what? I am almost 15 pounds heavier than the top of the healthy weight range for someone my height. That isn't terrible. And I am not obsessed with my weight. But I have to be honest. I feel bad about myself. I feel embarrassed. My clothes don't fit. I don't want to go out and buy clothes that do fit because I have no money and because... well... I'm embarrassed by my weight. There I said it. I have a great desire to get it under control but that is all. And we all know where the road paved with good intentions leads. 

• I am spending money like I think I have it. And I don't. And it is going to get me into trouble if I can't get a handle on my emotions and feelings. It is like eating and shopping make me momentarily feel great and then the feeling fades and I feel terrible. So I want to do it some and then I feel great and then terrible and then great and then terrible. It is a vicious cycle. 

• I don't want to do anything. I don't want to clean. I don't want to cook. I don't want to quilt. I don't want to shower. I don't want to go to the gym. I don't want to go to church. I don't want to go out. I don't want to do anything at all. I am not so depressed that I don't do anything. But I have to force myself to do it. Some might say "Well if you can do it at all then you're not really depressed. Or at least not as depressed as me." But is it really a competition? I feel horrible. Isn't that enough? I have to force myself to do the dishes (which is why I only did them once this week.) I have to force myself to shower. I have to force myself to pick up my house. And when I don't I feel terrible when Mark comes home because I feel like I have done nothing all day and I find myself trying to think of what I did do all day to justify the house/myself/Austin all being in the state we are in.

• I am socially disinclined to do anything. Things that people say or ask about that normally wouldn't bother me drive me crazy or really hurt my feelings. So then I feel mean thoughts and then I feel bad and it is just a terrible, nasty feeling that continues to spiral downward.

My ray of light in all this anxiety and fear is Austin. Oh how I love my child. The one thing I do want to do is get down on the floor and play with him. I want to read to him. I want to rock him. I want to hold him. I want to kiss him. I want to love on him all day long. Because he doesn't say anything hurtful. He doesn't look at me and think "Geeze mom, why aren't the dishes done?" At this point all he does is love me and need me and want me to play with him too. And I love that. I LOVE THAT. 

Okay. That is it. That is enough. I said it all. I got it out. Now it is time to take it in hand and deal with it and get things done. 

But how? How am I going to do it? I'll make a list. I will make a list of my goals this week. A daily schedule if you will. I am going to set 5 goals for each day. 

Sunday: 

1. Be on time for church
2. Make the bed
3. Make dinner
4. Be on time for the Reidsville concert. 
5. Call my mom

Monday:

1. Go to the gym
2. Make the bed
3. 
   

It's not you, it's me. Really. It is.

Dear Friends,

As I am still grieving the loss of my sister I just want you to know how much I appreciate all your thoughtfulness and concern over me and my family. I appreciate so much your prayers and all the questions about my well-being and the well-being of my family.  Thank you. From the bottom of my heart.

However, at this point it is really difficult for me to talk about it at all. Even responding to the questions "How are you? How is your brother-in-law? How is your mom? How are the girls?" is difficult and very, very, very painful for me. I am just not at a place in my grieving cycle where I feel as though I can discuss it at all.

I appreciate so much our friendship and I do not want to push anyone away because really, it is me. Not you. And at some point in the future I will need you to ask. But for now can I ask, as a friend, that you wait for me to bring the subject up? It is just not a good time to ask me how I am doing or how my family is doing in regards to that. For me, right now at least, it hurts a great deal more than it helps. I know as a friend you wouldn't want that for me.

I am so glad to know that when I am ready to talk about it I will have so many friends ready to listen. I am so glad to know I have friends praying for me.

Thank you for understanding. Thank you for your love. When I am ready to talk about it I will let you know.

Much Love,

Amanda

What Would Jesus Do?

I think for one of the first times in my life I really asked myself: "What would Jesus do?" in regards to a situation that came up in my life. This is the situation:

There is a woman of my acquaintance who is expecting her second child. She was recently put on bed rest (bless her soul). She isn't due for another couple of months. She also