Since I was the oldest of 9
children, I had some experience with babies before I became a mother. I
had held babies and changed babies and smelled new-baby skin and kissed warm
baby cheeks. My mom's last child was born 3 months before my first child,
so I had cuddled my brother not too long before I cuddled my son. I felt
confident that there was little about motherhood that would surprise me. Well,
surprise. There were miles of surprises, not the least of which was the
amount of love I felt for the new life that I took home from the hospital.
It wasn't just great and strong and everlasting. It was fierce.
As life went on this love for "my child" became love for
"my children." It's not that I didn't see their
imperfections and weaknesses, it was that I clearly comprehended their
exquisite potential and my responsibility in opening their vision to that
potential.
Which brings me to the first lesson I learned about God. I
have always believed in God, but there was a time or two when I would throw a
tantrum and wonder why my life had to be hard, and sometimes I did what I
wanted instead of what I should, but I always believed and had hope for heaven.
When I became a mother, the game changed. The stakes became higher,
which shows how kind He was to bless me with children. When my children
occasionally did what they wanted instead of what they should, I felt myself
panic. It wasn't enough to believe in God. I had to know that redemption was real and that
there was power in the Savior's sacrifice and that my cherished offspring would
be forgiven and sanctified and made whole and reach their potential. It
was at this place I began to desperately search for this knowledge. I
studied the scriptures, prayed and waited... and the answer came. "I
would not have allowed my Son to suffer if his atonement and sacrifice
had no saving power." Because I had loved a child, I knew this to be
an absolute truth.
My children are delightful to be sure, but it's possible that
there has been a brief moment or moments where I was not happy with their
choices. Of course I felt very sorry for myself during those times.
After all, hadn't I told them and told them and showed them and showed
them and then they went and chose something else? I could have been
sitting on the couch eating bon bons the whole time instead killing myself with
goals and discipline and teaching. It was during one of these dramatic moments
that I realized suffering because of the choices of others is something Jesus
Christ did, but he did it with love and willingness to serve. And he had
done it for me and mine, and you and yours. So I needed to remember to give
gifts freely without any thought of return.
Another lesson I learned came during childbirth, not my first
childbirth or even my second. But after some of my children had been born
I realized some symbolism in the process. All things testify of Christ,
and I understood that just as it was through Jesus Christ's pain and suffering
that we can be born again and have eternal life. The pain and suffering
of a mother gives way to birth and mortal life. It was then that I felt
that I was a partner with God in the creation process. Truthfully, remembering
this made labor more meaningful and more tolerable.
Jesus Christ loves us and has made it possible to return to our
Father in Heaven because of the perfect life he lived and the precious
blood he spilt. This I know with an absolute hope for heaven for all who faithfully
and diligently repent and obey and love Him.
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