Line upon Line

This Mother’s Day season I’ve decided to do something novel: celebrate the things I did right. Since I tend to be a behavioral perfectionist, I’ve been excellent at reminding myself of things I might have done better. I’ve learned, however, that humility is quite a different thing from self–flagellation, and that the Lord wants me to repent and rejoice, not hang my head and plod along feeling bad because I’ve had to learn “line upon line” like every other mortal mother. 

Caution Needed!

There is no other role that requires more caution in trumpeting our weaknesses than mothering. If your mother says to you, “I’m a failure as a mother” what are the implications? I fell into the trap of saying something like that a few years ago on a mother’s day that goes down in infamy as far as I’m concerned. All my sons were over grown but still single, and I was suffering from the silly practice of noticing that practically nothing in our family fit my idealistic little dream of how a family “should be.” I was depressed that day and had been all too aware of my own weaknesses. When everyone was sitting around the table I said, “I’ve been feeling lately that I never did anything right as a mother. I’d be so appreciative if anyone could remind me of something good.”  . . . Dead silence for at least two minutes–minutes that felt like an eternity to me . . . I wished mightily that I could disappear. I knew I’d made a mistake, but couldn’t just “erase” it. Finally the boys started a conversation on an entirely different subject, and nothing more was said about my plea. But you can imagine how heavy my heart felt. 

One of my sons e-mailed me a few days later and said something like, “I think I can tell you, Mom, why nobody said anything on Sunday. Guys hate to be forced into compliments, and we don’t like the inference that we turned out so bad that you feel like a failure as a mother. I wish you could accept us as we are and try to see the good.” I was stunned. The last thing I had meant to do was to insult my sons! I was so self-absorbed I hadn’t even thought about what my words might mean to them. 

I did some serious repenting and have been determined ever since to send more positive messages to these people I love so much. They are all fine young men, and just because they haven’t chosen to read off my script all the time doesn’t mean they aren’t making progress in their lives. I’m making progress in mine, too, and the better I learn to treat myself, the better I can treat them.  

The Atonement and Its Application to Parenting

In a booklet I co-authored for mothers of older children entitled To Be a Mother; the Agonies and the Ecstasies, I wrote:

 Giving Ourselves Credit

One of the best sermons I’ve ever come across for mothers is based on some Bible verses in Matthew 25. When the Lord says, “Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me” (vs. 40),  most mothers are famous for saying, “Lord, when saw we thee an hungered, and fed thee? Or thirsty, and gave thee drink? When saw we thee a stranger, and took thee in? Or naked, and clothed thee? Or when saw we thee sick,  . . . and came unto thee?’ (Matthew 25: 37-39) Yet who does all those things more consistently than mothers? They patiently give food to their hungry children–many times a day. They give them water when they are thirsty, and clothe them when they are naked–which is much more often than at bath-time for many little ones! They nurse their children through endless nights of illness, and come to them, “visit” them constantly to fill their every need. Yet mothers tend to say, “that doesn’t count” and feel they are not doing their part when they have little time left to serve outside the home.  All of us as mothers need to give ourselves more credit, allow ourselves to feel the Savior’s appreciation for our service to his little ones. 

There is so much to learn from the words, “Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these . . .Ye have done it unto me.” No mother can tenderly nurture her baby, or do her best to comfort an older child without meriting the Savior’s love for doing what He would do if He were present. When we care for our children to the very best of our ability, we are caring for Him. 

I, Too, Am “One of the Least of These”

There is another application of this scripture I want to talk about. I’ve often been much better at feeding, comforting, and caring for my children and others than I have myself. I’ve often been kinder, more forgiving, more understanding of others than I have myself.  I had to think long and hard about how I treated myself when I realized one day that I, too, am “one of the least of these.” Inasmuch as I do it to myself, I do it to the Savior. What a sobering thought–one that has motivated me to consider a wiser, more loving approach to myself. 

So, for this Mother’s Day, I’m honoring me, being kinder to me, remembering how much I have always loved my children and how much I enjoyed each one, treasuring each day when they were tiny. I’m reminding myself that all through the years of raising them I did the very best I could with what I knew and understood at the moment. Not one day did I ever get up in the morning and say, “I think I will be a terrible mother today and cause irreparable damage to my children’s psyches.” Not one time did I on purpose do anything to hurt one of my children. Any way I failed my children was certainly not intentional, and I would wager I’m in good company.  

A Gift for Myself

So, for Mother’s Day this year I bought myself a Thomas Kinkade book called “The Home You Made for Me: Celebrating a Mother’s Love.”  The book contains many of Kinkade’s beautiful light-filled pictures along with lovely quotes about childhood and mothers. I’m thinking of my own mother, and myself in my best moments, and reading every one of the thoughts with appreciation and love, not guilt and regret. The book includes pages meant for a grown child to write tributes to his or her mother. Pages such as One of my happiest memories of you is . . .  or You made our home special because . . .  or  Special memories of our times together . . . or These ares some of the things you taught me that I hope to pass on to my children . . .  I’m writing on these pages for myself.  I’m remembering the good parts of my mother’s example  (she passed away several years ago) and writing tributes to her, but I’m not forgetting to write tributes to me too.  When it comes right down to it, how I feel about myself is far more important to my well-being than how anyone else feels about me.  

Accentuating the Positive

I’m come to realize that every mother falls short of giving her children everything they need; after all, only the Savior even knows what that “everything”is! But we usually fall short only because we don’t know better, not because we didn’t put our whole hearts into trying. So I’m writing about the hours I read to my children and sang to them, about my desire to teach them the gospel, about the scripture story tapes and songs they heard as they drifted off to sleep night after night.  

Instead of lamenting my failure to accomplish regular family prayer I’m writing about the tradition I had of putting my arms around each child separately and praying for them before they went out the door in the morning.  Instead of remembering the vacations we couldn’t afford, I’m writing about the “special times” when I gave each child in turn an afternoon with Mom alone–cavorting in the park, going out for hamburgers, feeding the pigeons and the ducks, doing whatever they wanted to do.  Instead of worrying about all the noisy, disorderly years when the house was full of growing boys, I’m remembering that the kids felt free to bring their friends home, that they were the first in the neighborhood to have a computer, so all the kids “hung out” at our house and I always knew where my kids were. I’m thinking about the canyon outings I took them on,  and later, the campouts.  One time when I was the only adult camping with all five of my boys and two neighbor boys, the Scoutmaster said he was about to recruit me!  

Instead of worrying that I didn’t create the “perfect” home for my children and didn’t show them an example of a “perfect” marriage, I’m remembering how totally I’ve always loved them, how I would have (and still would) do anything in the world for their well-being, how I could look in any son’s eyes and say honestly, “I want you to know that I will always love you–no matter what!”  

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To Be a Mother, the Agonies and the Ecstasies,  is a unique 16-page booklet with full-color cover, written specifically to mothers with grown children. It contains not only the comforting piece Darla quoted from entitled “The Savior Makes Up the Difference for Mothers, Too,” but four poems and some fine prose by poet laureate Emma Lou Thayne. Now only $1.99.

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