Borrowed light (with respect to Sue – )

NOTICE:  I did not write this.  This was a talk given in our Sacrament Meeting on Mother’s Day.  It is the first and only Mother’s Day talk that didn’t leave me wanting to kick walls and  chew furniture.  So I begged Kathryn to let me post it.  And she let me.  And here it is:

My Scrapbook of Motherhood.

I have worried and wondered about what to speak about today. In this life there are few responsibilities greater than being the speaker on Mother’s Day.  The emotional state of ten’s of women hangs on your words.  So I hope you like My Scrapbook of Motherhood.

Page One:  I’m going to have a baby.  Well. Okay.  I was going to try to graduate from college first.  But.  Okay.

Page Five:  Jonathan is born.  We were going to call him Christopher, but I just started to call him Jonathan and so did his dad, so he must be a Jonathan.

Page Six:  Jonathan is one month old.  We are in the emergency room in Logan.  I tripped on some stairs and landed on my baby.  He’s going to be okay, in spite of a hairline fraction on his skull.  I call my parents and my dad gives me some very useful advice. He says, “Always remember, children’s main purpose in life is to destroy their parents, even if they have to destroy themselves in the process.”

Page Ten:  I’m going to have another baby.  A really, big baby.  I’ve just graduated from college, thankfully.  The baby is due in a week and a half. And suddenly the doctor is REALLY concerned about the size of the baby.  A test reveals two babies.  I cry.  My husband laughs. (Later, Jonathan says, “Don’t WANT two bebes.” )  The day after the test, my neighbor shows up on my door step. She had just finished helping me make a baby blanket. She has fabric for a second baby blanket.    “Is this fabric okay????” She asks. 

At a baby shower I get this advice:  “Don’t get mad – get the camera!”

Page Fifteen: I’m nursing the twins and grading papers at the same time.  I can hear Jonathan banging on cabinets in the kitchen – he wants some candy that is stashed on the highest shelf.  A few minutes later I hear him fall and start crying.  That’s normal.  I call for him to come to me and he doesn’t come.  That’s not normal.

Page Sixteen:  Jonathan has a cast on his leg.  We are at my mom’s house.  I’m feeding the twins.  Jon’s little cousin comes in (he’s kind of one of those tattling-all-the-time kids).   He says in his best 2 ½ year old voice:  “Jon’s in the water.”  “That’s fine, Tyler.”  “Jon’s in the water!”  “Okay.”  “Jon’s… UNDER the water!!!.”  Oh! The pool!  The twins are on the floor in an instant.  Jonathan almost has a grasp on the edge of the pool.  If it wasn’t for that cast —

Page Thirty:  I’m going to have another baby.  I tell my Heavenly Father that it had better be a girl.  He supported me on that request.  This little girl talks to angels, all the time.

Page Forty-Two:  I’m heading home from running errands to our house on Center Street. [a busy street]  The twins (about 2 or 3) want to go to “Aunt Nita’s” house (she’s their “other mother”).  I need to get home.  They fuss.  I insist we go home.  I park the car behind the house.  They won’t get out.  “I am not going to Anita’s house right now!  So, fine.  Just sit in the car then.”  I go in the house.  A few minutes later, there’s a knock on my door.  A very nice lady is returning my children to me.  She found them walking together up Center Street on their way to Anita’s house.

Page Fifty:  I’m going to have another baby.  Clearly I’m not the one in charge here. 

Page Seventy-five:  I’m having a VERY BAD mommy day.  I’ve locked myself in my room.  I can hear 1½-year old Cameron pretty much screaming.  The other kids are laughing.  They pound on my door.  “Mom!.  Mom!”  I holler from under my pillow,  “Just take care of him.”  “No, Mom!  Open the door.  You have to see this!!!”  I drag myself to the door and open it.  I see two beady little eyes peeking out from a head and face covered in peanut butter.  I know the other kids didn’t do this to him, because he’s been going through a phase of smearing shampoo all over his head – when he’s not taking a bath.  I’ve had to keep him OUT of the bathroom.  So now he’s found the peanut butter,  and he is a mess.  We are all laughing and Cameron just keeps screaming. I remember—get the camera.

Page 100:  I’m going to have another baby.  This one is a new adventure.  We get the PRIVILEDGE of spending a great amount of time at Primary Children’s Medical Center.

Page 125 Cameron has an “other mother.”  It is the 16 year old girl across the street who babysits the kids.  Every morning Cameron’s first word in the morning are “Go Shilo’s house.”  His last words at night: “Go Shilo’s house.”  And when he is in trouble or doesn’t get his way, “Go Shilo’s house.”

Page 150:  Michael is bossing me around.  He’s about three and I explain to him that I am not his slave. He says, “Oh yes you are!”  His nursery teacher tells me they had a lesson on what they were going to be when they grow up.  Michael said, “When I grow up, I’m going to be in charge.”

Page 175:  Alex comes in the house with blood running out of the side of his head.  A neighbor kid threw a rock at him.  As I do triage on the wound, I’m trying to figure out what happened.  No harm intended.  This is a game the kids play.  It’s called Rock Wars and they throw rocks at each other.  Oh.

I wonder if the doctor will just send some of that super-glue home with me.

Page 200: Alex and Chris are about 10. They are doing the dishes together and they start talking about being missionaries.  One of them says, “Hey! Maybe we’ll get to be companions.”  The other says, “Yeah!  It’ll be like: ‘Elder Van Wagoner and….. Elder Van Wagoner????  Hey! Are you guys twins!!?!?!?’”

Page 300: Alex and Chris are doing dishes together.  They are about 13 or 14.  Alex just got off the phone; some girl called him. He says to Chris: “You know the girls would talk to you, too, if you would just talk to them.”  Chris replies:  “And just what IS there to talk about???”  Sixteen-year-old Jonathan pops in from the next room and says:  “Exactly!!!”

Page 400: I’m driving through Idaho late at night with my three youngest children ages 11, 8 and 6.  Michael is driving us all nuts, and Cameron isn’t much help either.  I’ve been reading Parenting with Love and Logic.  “Michael, if you can’t behave appropriately in the car, then you will lose the privilege of riding in the car.” He loses his privilege. So I pull over on the highway and make him get out and walk on the far right of the shoulder. I follow along behind him in the car.  I’m a little nervous about what I’m doing, but I’ve run out of options.  Cameron solves my problem by rolling down the window and yelling “Ha-Ha, Michael!” Cameron is now walking with Michael.  I feel much better.  After a few minutes, they get their privileges back and we continue along the highway, peacefully.

Page 600: President Hinckley has challenged all the members of the church to read the Book of Mormon.  All of my children are reading and report their progress every Sunday.  We met the challenge.

Page 700: I’m at the MTC.  I thought we would never get here. Jon is almost twenty.  I keep wondering when the devastation that I’ve heard so much about will hit me.  Out of respect for the other mothers, I refrain from throwing my hands in the air and yelling “Yes!” as I walk out the doors and leave my son behind.

Page 800: I’m at the MTC with my twins.  I’m sending them to foreign countries.  I’m looking at all the babies in the room, dressed in black suits and ties.  I want to stand up and yell, “What on earth are we thinking!!!!”

Page 900: I’m sitting in a chair in my bedroom in shock.  Seventeen-year-old Alisha is standing in front of me. She is saying something about borrowing a shirt to wear with a skirt to school the next day.  I’m staring at her in unbelief.  Alisha hasn’t worn a dress to school since picture day in first grade.  I gave up that battle on picture day in second grade – a long time ago.  All I can say is a dazed “Why?”  “I got a text message from Sarah.  We are all wearing Sunday clothes to school to honor President Hinckley.”

Page 1000: Jonathan will be home soon. It is so close it hurts. Miraculously, he is still in one piece.

Page 1100: My 13-year-old is working on his Duty to God requirements. He needs to bear his testimony in church.  He dutifully gets up and walks to the pulpit.  As he begins to speak, the spirit washes over him.  I can see him receive a witness of the truth.

Page 1200: My sixteen-year-old is saying a family prayer.  He speaks with the power and authority that he holds as a bearer of the Aaronic priesthood.  I am touched by his diligence in doing his duty in all things.

Page 1300: Alex and Chris will be home soon.  It is so close it hurts.

Page 1400: My house has a revolving front door.  There is always someone’s bedroom packed up in boxes in the basement.  They come and they go.  But eventually, they will stop coming back.

Page 1500:  I co-signed on a diamond ring.  Who knows what will go on the blank pages of my scrapbook.

I would like to share these words from Elder Jeffery R Holland, (April 1997).

Do the best you can through these years, but whatever else you do, cherish that role that is so uniquely yours and for which heaven itself sends angels to watch over you and your little ones. 

You can’t possibly do this alone, but you do have help. The Master of Heaven and Earth is there to bless you …  Yours is the work of salvation, and therefore you will be magnified, compensated, made more than you are and better than you have ever been as you try to make honest effort, however feeble you may sometimes feel that to be.

Remember, remember all the days of your motherhood: “Ye have not come thus far save it were by the word of Christ with unshaken faith in him, relying wholly upon the merits of him who is mighty to save.”

Rely on Him. Rely on Him heavily. Rely on Him forever. And “press forward with a steadfastness in Christ, having a perfect brightness of hope.”  You are doing God’s work. You are doing it wonderfully well. He is blessing you and He will bless you, even—no, especially—when your days and your nights may be the most challenging. Like the woman who anonymously, meekly, perhaps even with hesitation and some embarrassment, fought her way through the crowd just to touch the hem of the Master’s garment, so Christ will say to the women who worry and wonder and sometimes weep over their responsibility as mothers, “Daughter, be of good comfort; thy faith hath made thee whole.” 12 And it will make your children whole as well.

Written and delivered by Kathryn Van Wagoner, May of 2009