Sometimes I wonder how my parenting struggles measure up to those around me. Do other kids act like mine? Do they yell and scream at their parents, at least sometimes? Not that I want other kids to scream at their parents, but am I alone in this? What about those families that seem SO happy; the ones that I can tell are sincerely, patiently doing their best in this parenting challenge? Do they ever feel like it's the end of the world when their kid does 'x'? Are they ever shocked by the words that come out of their child's mouth? I am forever asking myself if everything will be okay.
I want SO much for my children. I want so badly for these little people of mine to grow up happy and full of love. I want so much for them to gain testimonies of their own that they are children of God and that He loves them. I want to be with them for eternity. I want to see them make the choices that will bring happiness.
We have this family goal that we talk about. It give us vision and direction for our daily lives. We plan to have a big reunion 24 years from now, and as part of that reunion go to the temple together. The temple reminds us that we can be an eternal family; that is our bigger goal. We talk about this as we face the daily challenges of life. We remind each other that what we REALLY want is to be together.
At times, however, I feel completely defeated. I struggle with having faith enough that my family will make it; that I will make it. Recently when my oldest, who is only eight years old, told me about something he's been doing wrong I was shocked. I firmly believe that my own bad example is where he'd learned this behavior in the first place and he'd magnified it to an incredible degree. My own failing in this thing was something that was very rare, and he'd told me it was something he was doing with amazing frequency. I felt so responsible. I felt like it was the end of the world. I was discouraged in my ability to be a mother and fearful of the future. That whisperer of lies told me to believe that this was only the beginning of much worse things to come and that there was no hope.
I've felt this way at other times with my children. I've often wished I could actually see into other families so I could know if they were going through the same thing. I've especially wondered about those families that seem so happy to me. It's not about comparison; it's not about being better or worse than someone else. For me, it's about hope. It's the thought that if those other happy families can get through this, so can we.
The crazy thing is that I know there's always hope and nothing is really the end. I know that we can make it through anything. I know that we have a loving Heavenly Father who is mindful of our every need, and a Savior who has felt all of our pains and who knows EXACTLY how to help us. I know that there is nothing that can't be overcome through the power of His Atonement.
Yet, I do feel this way at times.
While I know this path requires a lot of faith, I'm grateful for those tender mercies that strengthen my faith, for those times that He sees fit to let me SEE that there is hope. Last night I had such an experience. After a wonderful women's conference that was all about families (and during which I shed some tears), I went with some other women to grab dessert and socialize. I am so blessed to know these women. These are women who are positive and who lift me in ways they don't realize. They've strengthened me in so many ways since we've lived here, and their love has helped me through struggles that none of them know about. These are the mothers of those happy families I keep referencing.
Anyway, as we visited we talked about our children, and amazingly some of the things I've been worrying about came out. I listened as they shared some of the things they've gone through as parents, some of the disappointing moments with their children. The conversation touched on the exact issue I'd just gone through with my son, and it strengthened my feeling that there is hope.
That conversation reminded me of something I've been wondering for some time, so I turned to the friend beside me and asked her if her oldest son ever yells (because mine DOES). If anyone's child doesn't yell, it would be hers. She's that awesome and patient and gentle, and so is her husband. This particular son of hers is VERY soft spoken and well mannered. We absolutely love this kid and are thrilled that our son gets to be his friend. She responded with a laugh and the comment that it had been a difficult week in that arena. In some ways it seems ridiculous, but this really made me feel better.
After each discouraging moment with my kids, I pick myself up and find hope. I exercise faith. I try harder to teach them and set a good example. I search for peace and refocus on becoming an eternal family. But sometimes a little encouragement seems to fill the final gap, and for that I am grateful.
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