A lesson in trust

It's been a long, glorious summer, stretched out with lots of park trips and berry-picking. Life at home with four children has both charmed and aggravated me, usually both within the space of an hour. I marveled this morning as my oldest son prattled on about his latest reading adventure, for what seemed like a year, that this is the only time in his life where he and I will spend this much time together. He turns 11 next month and I know the days are coming when I will be replaced by friends. Ok, right now I am really HOPING that will happen soon, but I know I will be wistful when it does. Baby Alexandra was born back on June 6th, under some pretty harrowing circumstances. She is starting to become aware of all the sights and noises around her - no signs of horror can be detected, yet. In time, she will blend into this chaos as surely as Christian did. I know that many of our family and friends have wondered - how did they come to have a 4th child? They seemed overwhelmed with 3. That's a good question. I only know from the experience so far, that she is supposed to be with us. As a social worker, I have cried and raged about why children are born to people who harm them. I still don't have an answer to that question and I probably never will. But, I know that this baby girl was meant for us. After Christian was born, Shawn pronounced himself content and suggested that we shut off the baby-making valves. Our two biological children had been difficult and expensive to conceive. Adopting hadn't proved to be a picnic, either. So, Shawn's feelings made sense, and I (mostly) agreed. Something about another daughter nagged at me. I told myself that Anna would always get to be our special princess, and that I was blessed to have had the privilege of experiencing pregnancy twice. I decided to worry about other things, of which there are always plenty to choose from. As Christian neared the age of 2 and Shawn turned 42, it seemed VERY logical that we proceed full-speed ahead with our family the way it was. It was about that time that I started consulting God about the issue. My prayers were usually accompanied by this feeling of openness...like it was a question that we would need to revisit in the future. Anyone that's experienced infertility can tell you that this is the worst possible answer. I wasn't having baby cravings. In fact, I felt pretty happy and smug when I held a baby, and then got to hand it back to the owner. I shed the extra weight, took up a couple new hobbies, got a promotion at work...and felt good to go. This next part is hard to describe, but it's absolutely true. As Shawn and I knelt by the bed each night for prayer (yes, we really do that), I had the impression, on several occasions, of a little girl with bouncy dark curls, running through our door. I didn't see or hear her, it was just a feeling. I didn't share this with Shawn, because I thought he would slip me some medication. Sometime in the summer of 2012, we attended the temple together and I again prayed about this issue, wanting some closure around it. I felt a strong impression that we should cease and desist all baby-making prohibitors, and just let the future unfold before us. Keep in mind that Shawn and I had been married for almost 15 years to this point and never experienced a spontaneous pregnancy. It might sound strange, but I really didn't consider it possible that I would become pregnant. Well, about 2 months went by and you know what happened somewhere in between... Now, as this newborn adjustment sometimes makes me want to scream/cry/eat/use a narcotic, I look back and rely on those experiences as a testament that this was no accident. I both feel and know that God has a plan for my family. These little people are in my care for a reason, heaven help them. Now, as for a fifth child? So far: not happening.

Are You Judging Me?

I had the opportunity this past weekend to attend a conference for my church. It was made up of several meetings, but the one I most enjoyed occurred on Saturday evening and was open only to adults. This is always one of my favorite meetings. A leader in our church spoke about a woman that he had been called to serve, and that had been a burden in his life. She was needy, discouraged, depressed, and lonely. He shared some of her struggles and the ways in which he had been directed by God to bless her. He said that she taught him an important lesson: that the people around her had been made better for having served her. The struggles of our brothers and sisters can become opportunities for us to grow if we can learn to see it that way.

I squirmed in my seat a little during this talk, mostly because I was feeling humbled and chastised. I would consider myself to be outwardly kind, interested in those around me, and eager to help. But, at my very core, I can sometimes (frequently) be stingy, selfish, and harsh in my opinion of others. You might think that someone who had chosen social work as a profession and practiced it for the past 13 years might be more immune to such feelings, but guess again. I realize this is a part of us all, but I think that the Lord really wants to change it in me. In fact, I have felt nudged and reminded about it quite a bit lately. What exactly do I need to change? A few thoughts –

1.      Helping others, when I can, without murmuring about the time it’s taking away from other pursuits.

2.      Being open to fully empathize with other’s joys and challenges, without immediately seeking some connection to myself.

3.      Giving and expressing love freely, without thought of how it will be received or whether the other person “deserves it.”

There you have it – some new, lofty goals. Next time we have a conversation, and you see my eyes get a little narrow or glazed, be sure to ask: “Are you judging me?” and help me get back on track.