Leave it to the children- Sunday Epiphanies:Prayer. Thankfulness project, Day 6

Thankfulness Project Day 6

November 6th, 2011, Sunday

I'm so thankful that I am not a perfect parent. If I were a perfect parent, I daresay that my children would not be nearly as cool as they are- because THEY would be perfect. And nothing particularly hilarious would happen, because, being perfect, I would have perfect insight. Since most hilarity that happens around here is a direct result of something that went wrong. If I had perfect insight, I would have fixed imperfections before they went wrong in the first place. In addition to that, my children, being perfect children, would not have nearly as many misunderstandings - and misunderstandings are the direct cause of most of their precious Kid-isms Furthermore, if I were a perfect mother, whenever my kids biffed it, ate crayons, got stuck, or otherwise provided excellent slapstick comedy, I would not be able to laugh because perfect parents run to their child's side to dry tears and kiss owies. They don't giggle behind their hand as soon as they see the child isn't REALLY hurt, or run to grab the camera. As a result, I have independent, tough kids, and our family laughs a lot. I love to laugh. I'm thankful my kids love to laugh too.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Sometimes it can be difficult to keep things private when you belong to a church group that is particularly close.....or gossipy.

Difficult, yes. But surely impossible if you have children old enough to speak.

Last week at church, the topic in primary was "prayer"

Now, three of my 4 children are in primary now, and they're not shy about raising their hands to answer questions. Since my kids make up about 10% of the junior primary's build, you can imagine that every Sunday, they each get called on at least once. I also am in the primary as I teach the 7-8 year olds.

A few weeks ago, I came out HERE and told everyone what I've been trying to suffer silently through for the last 6 months: We're dirt poor, and Brandon was under employed. things are hard. We had no money. We were living on the church welfare system, along with half the Mormons in Utah- which comforts me a bit because I feel like I'm not the only one having issues, and you know, misery loves company- as well as harrows up my heart. It's a horrible thing to live through, and when I see moms of babies younger than mine, with kids towed along with them, knowing that they're suffering as bad if not worse, well, I wish I would show up and see an empty storehouse so that I could rest assured that no one needed it because they were all doing just fine.

Well, for 6 months, in our family prayers, we have prayed for Brandon to find a better job, or another job, or get a promotion, or SOMETHING, so that we could help others instead of being the ones who need help. Usually, those prayers spilled over into the kids' personal prayers too.

Last week at church, Lilly was called to say the opening prayer. Usually, she's really good at keeping her prayers in context- you know, at home she says certain things, at meals she blesses the food, and at church, she asks for the spirit to be with us or to bless those who couldn't be there. That day, though, her train of thought derailed, and she slipped in, "Heavenly Father, please help my daddy to find a better job so that he can support our family, and so that we can help other people..."

I bit my lip. Primary is full of kids, and around 8 adults at any given time. I hoped they hadn't been paying too much attention. As it so happens, I share a class with another woman in my ward. She's awesome, and I love her very much. She's become a dear friend of mine, but it also happens that she's my visiting teacher, so, per the ward line of communication, she knows, in full, our situation. She looked at me with a smirk on her face, and whispered "Don't-cha just love it when your kids just blab everything all over for everyone to know?" I shook my head and sighed.

And then, things really got going.

As I mentioned earlier, the topic of the day was prayer. When the primary president asked "What kinds of things can you pray for?" my little Mahone raised his hand, and, of course, was called on to answer.

"You can pray for money if you don't have any." His eyes were wide, and he nodded matter of factly. I mentally crossed my fingers, hoping that was all he'd say. After all, it was a true enough answer, but was not terribly incriminating....unless everyone had been listening to Lilly's prayer. Alas, he added "Lilly and I don't have any. Nope!" - the best part was, it was just as matter of fact as his first comment. No hint of despair, no smidgeon of "wo is me" or even feeling sorry for himself. It was just what it was.

My friend eyed me carefully.

Lilly then raised her hand, and I put my hand over my eyes as though I had a headache. "We can pray for our dads to get better jobs!" She said it cheerily with a bright smile across her face...and then she flipped her hair over her shoulder.

So, now, I'm pretty sure the whole ward knows what's up.

The lucky thing? I actually learned something. My kids have faith. I have been struggling with my faith (note: I said FAITH, not belief or religion) for 6 months now, crying out in the dark "Where are You?! Why are my prayers not being answered when I am doing all I can do?!" I struggle. I worry. I am impatient and imperfect. I am ashamed of the situation, and keep it hidden. But my children are faithful. They are long suffering. They have no secrets. They are patient and happy and that happiness doesn't rely one whit on money. I need to humble myself and become like a little child- meek and teachable. And steadfast.

They know that Heavenly Father will answer our prayers. Even if it takes awhile. All in God's time. Not mine.

I love them. They teach me daily.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Last thing! (I KNOW! It's like the post that never ends!)

This is what I did this weekend:

MY coat- I finally made one for ME!!!!

A GORGEOUS striped tube scarf- super bohemian, very colorful, absolutely unique, and toasty warm!

Girls earth tone liripipe stocking hat.

Darling pixie hood. Isn't my girl just Beautiful?!

Boys OR Girls liripipe stocking hat.

Children's maxi coat. DARLING!!!!

To purchase any of these things (except for MY coat!) or to order your own custom made creation, please visit me at http://www.viciousupcycle.etsy.com

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Like my blog? Please vote for me by clicking the button for Top Mommy Blogs! Thanks!

I hate it when I'm wrong

But obviously I'm human. So I'm wrong a lot. Especially lately.

Without going into detail about how my life has sucked lately, in every sense of the word- financially, emotionally, physically, etc- I have to admit that I have been completely blind.

I happen to be a very religious person, I'm LDS, and I don't believe in coincidences. I believe that God has everything in His control, and that our lives are like stories. He knows how it will end, He knows what choices we will make, and while he cannot interfere with our Free Agency, He has his hand in it all. It's a plot. Things are set up so far in advance so that the climax and denouement come together in sync and rhythm and meaning. And I, in no way, am implying that we are God's playthings.

(For a really excellent essay on this, please visit http://findingthemiddledistance.blogspot.com/2010/03/separating-from-suck.html I am pretty sure that this post is about me, as she was the first person that I called to unload my massive amounts of anger-at-God on. She always has the perfect thing to say, and always puts my life into perspective.)

I have never been very in control of my emotions. I have a hard time keeping my mouth shut, especially if I'm able to put it into written word (or type it, as it were.) and I know how I am supposed to behave, both socially and religiously.

You know how you always hear these great stories about men and women in the scriptures who obeyed God and didn't even complain when they were faced with trials and tribulation a thousand times worse than my own. The stories of Sarah, who waited 90 years to have a child, and Rachael, whose husband loved her best, and yet her sister was the one who gave him son after son after son. I have little right to feel sorry for myself. (Though, my bitterness is only in small part connected to my desire for a child. There are other things that just make the stress of it so much more intense.)

And yet, I have zero idea how to change the way I feel. I don't know how to not be jealous. I don't know how to feel peace, to calm my nerves. I can keep my mouth shut, and not complain about things. I'm sure I can do that. (It's very possible that my head might physically explode, but I'm sure i could do it.) I do not know, though, how to change the way I feel. How can I change my behavior, the way that I approach things, if I cannot change the way i feel? And I have wondered, sometimes out loud, lately, what exactly IS wrong with complaining? I feel crappy. Why can't i just throw it out there and say it like it is?

Today, I ranted on the phone to my husband, soooo infinitely more patient with me and my hopeless shortcomings than I am with his. And I really finally heard myself talking. I heard how i sounded. I heard how ungrateful I was being, and how I was overlooking every miracle, every tender mercy, and every answered prayer (and there has been no shortage in the last year and a half.) I was seeing all our problems and wondering why we weren't being blessed with the things we are promised because of our faith and obedience, so overwhelmed with what I WANTED that I didn't stop to notice that we WERE being blessed, more abundantly than we deserved, because we were always given what we needed to survive, and to thrive.

And I had to take a step back, and change my thoughts. I have to be calm, and I have to TRUST. Because everything will be okay in the end. If it's not okay, it's not the end.

So, I'm asking Him- "Help thou my unbelief."

So many things i have in my life. My beautiful, brilliant children. My home, my family. Every time we get some kind of financial windfall, something falls apart. And we spend the money on the broken thing instead of what I sometimes feel would be a much needed vacation, or to pay off debt. This is NOT supposed to be annoying, it is a tender mercy. It is protection. It's God's hand in my life, to make things fair. To set things up. To take care of me, and my children.

The part that still sucks, and will always suck, because I hate not knowing what is going on, is that I will never know what's coming. I will try to have faith and I will try to be fearless. But I don't know how my story ends. And that freaks me the heck out.