The Truth, the Whole Truth and Nothing But the Truth
Today in Relief Society, a sister whom I admire leaned over and whispered, "Did one of your kids come to church today with no shoes on?" Sheepishly, I laughed, shook my head no, but proceeded to admit, "No, he had on his brother's too-big Adidas slides." She laughed. I further whispered, "That's why I always tell people....if you want to feel better about yourself, come sit by me."
To put our conversation into a little bit of context, her and her husband were sitting next to our family in sacrament meeting when I walked in late holding a pair of shoes. Clearly she had watched me tap him on the shoulder, glare at him, and proceed to hand him the more appropriate attire for the occasion. She had also watched me stare in disbelief at the over-sized wrinkled shirt that he had chosen to wear, as well as notice that not only had he not bothered to comb his hair, but neither had his three other brothers who shared the pew with him. It wasn't until later that I noticed that another brother had on a pair of ratty old Chucks.
Oh, how I look forward to Sundays. Beautiful day of peace and rest. NOT.
These are the days that try mens' and Moms' souls.
I can't tell you what this dear sister was really thinking. Maybe she thought "what kind of parents let their children come to church looking like they had spent the night in a cardboard box." Maybe she thought, "Way to go mom, it's better to be here in wrinkles and slides than to not be here at all." Maybe she said a silent prayer that those children might be saved from the obvious imperfections of their mother. I can only hope.....
Today I couldn't even fake the Sunday face. I sat dejected and embarrassed and waiting for the floor to swallow me whole. I imagined people wondering if they could impeach the 2nd counselor in the Relief Society Presidency (oh, yeah, I don't think I've posted since that little tidbit) for gross negligence and incompetence. I wondered how 3 hours could seem like 6. I wondered how people would feel if they only knew the truth.
The truth that said that I slept in a tad too late after having a much needed (but later night) date night with my husband. The truth that had a husband wake up with swollen eyes and a runny nose as a gift from allergy season and a wife wake up with unwelcomed anxiety. The truth that said that my new skirt still didn't fit quite right even after I've lost a few pounds (after gaining way too many). The truth that saw a child come into our room minutes before we needed to leave and nervously share some things that was on their heart but which left us scrambling for the right words to say, but knowing that they probably seemed empty and hollow in the classic "you don't understand what I am going through" kind of way. And the absolute truth is, we don't. The truth that knows that even as we were trying to solve an insolvable problem, the time to leave was slipping away. The truth that said that our other kids were told to go get in the car without us verifying their appearance. The truth that saw a Dad trying to stay awake during Sacrament because he took allergy medicine. The truth that Mom arrived 30 minutes behind the family. Carrying a pair of shoes and realizing that she should have brought a comb and an iron, too. #thatsthegospeltruth
I was reminded earlier this week that the worth of souls is great in the sight of God. Today tried that belief. What is my worth if my children come to church looking like orphans? What is my worth if I have to stand by and watch my children struggle with things that I can't help them through? What is my worth if I've allowed myself to gain 20 lbs over the past year? What is my worth in the sight of others? What is my worth when I value myself? Is it far above rubies as the scriptures tell us or is it measured in the lint that I picked off of my jeans? Far too often, it is the latter.
I do not think that I am in the minority. That belief is largely why I choose to attempt to blog - to help others know they are not alone. To know that I am not alone. Sometimes I just have to write down the desperation and the emotion to help to honor the burden and then begin to release it. I am feeling lighter already.
Will I try harder next week to make sure that my kids are spit-shined for church? You betcha. Will I attempt to lose a couple more pounds this week to fit in my skirt the way I'd like to? Absolutely. I may not succeed, but the fact remains that I will never give up. On my children or myself or anyone else who shares their truth with me. Because I believe, that just like L'Oreal, we are all worth it. And that's the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.
To put our conversation into a little bit of context, her and her husband were sitting next to our family in sacrament meeting when I walked in late holding a pair of shoes. Clearly she had watched me tap him on the shoulder, glare at him, and proceed to hand him the more appropriate attire for the occasion. She had also watched me stare in disbelief at the over-sized wrinkled shirt that he had chosen to wear, as well as notice that not only had he not bothered to comb his hair, but neither had his three other brothers who shared the pew with him. It wasn't until later that I noticed that another brother had on a pair of ratty old Chucks.
Oh, how I look forward to Sundays. Beautiful day of peace and rest. NOT.
These are the days that try mens' and Moms' souls.
I can't tell you what this dear sister was really thinking. Maybe she thought "what kind of parents let their children come to church looking like they had spent the night in a cardboard box." Maybe she thought, "Way to go mom, it's better to be here in wrinkles and slides than to not be here at all." Maybe she said a silent prayer that those children might be saved from the obvious imperfections of their mother. I can only hope.....
Today I couldn't even fake the Sunday face. I sat dejected and embarrassed and waiting for the floor to swallow me whole. I imagined people wondering if they could impeach the 2nd counselor in the Relief Society Presidency (oh, yeah, I don't think I've posted since that little tidbit) for gross negligence and incompetence. I wondered how 3 hours could seem like 6. I wondered how people would feel if they only knew the truth.
The truth that said that I slept in a tad too late after having a much needed (but later night) date night with my husband. The truth that had a husband wake up with swollen eyes and a runny nose as a gift from allergy season and a wife wake up with unwelcomed anxiety. The truth that said that my new skirt still didn't fit quite right even after I've lost a few pounds (after gaining way too many). The truth that saw a child come into our room minutes before we needed to leave and nervously share some things that was on their heart but which left us scrambling for the right words to say, but knowing that they probably seemed empty and hollow in the classic "you don't understand what I am going through" kind of way. And the absolute truth is, we don't. The truth that knows that even as we were trying to solve an insolvable problem, the time to leave was slipping away. The truth that said that our other kids were told to go get in the car without us verifying their appearance. The truth that saw a Dad trying to stay awake during Sacrament because he took allergy medicine. The truth that Mom arrived 30 minutes behind the family. Carrying a pair of shoes and realizing that she should have brought a comb and an iron, too. #thatsthegospeltruth
I was reminded earlier this week that the worth of souls is great in the sight of God. Today tried that belief. What is my worth if my children come to church looking like orphans? What is my worth if I have to stand by and watch my children struggle with things that I can't help them through? What is my worth if I've allowed myself to gain 20 lbs over the past year? What is my worth in the sight of others? What is my worth when I value myself? Is it far above rubies as the scriptures tell us or is it measured in the lint that I picked off of my jeans? Far too often, it is the latter.
I do not think that I am in the minority. That belief is largely why I choose to attempt to blog - to help others know they are not alone. To know that I am not alone. Sometimes I just have to write down the desperation and the emotion to help to honor the burden and then begin to release it. I am feeling lighter already.
Will I try harder next week to make sure that my kids are spit-shined for church? You betcha. Will I attempt to lose a couple more pounds this week to fit in my skirt the way I'd like to? Absolutely. I may not succeed, but the fact remains that I will never give up. On my children or myself or anyone else who shares their truth with me. Because I believe, that just like L'Oreal, we are all worth it. And that's the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.
Jen, I freaking love you! Thanks for sharing your truth.
ReplyDeleteI love the way you write and share your honest thoughts. :)
ReplyDeleteThis to shall pass. All my children are grown and gone from home. Now I help my husband dress for church after his spinal stroke left him unable to bend to put on pants and shoes. It will always be something. Just the fact that you are in church is worth brownie points. It means we haven't given up hope that God will continue to bless us no matter how much we fail.
ReplyDelete