It's My Privilege

I tried to find pictures where all three boys are doing the same pose. Rae is on top, Joe on the left, Caleb on the right. 

Three little boys. 

A little while after Rae was born, I got my first "memento mori", my first gray hair. Fitting, considering that he is my hundred-mile-an-hour child. A little while after Joe was born, I was diagnosed with clinical depression and post traumatic stress. I was a hot mess. 

Moral of the story: Having babies = lots of stress. 

Yet, when I found out that I was expecting an unexpected baby, I felt peace. And when I first held Caleb, I felt healed of the trauma around Joe's birth. I also felt healed of my new mom anxiety with Rae---to quote Rae, "I got this." Fewer things make me nervous. 

Here's what I've learned: as much as parenting is stressful and at times wholly painful, it is my privilege. I get the opportunity to participate. And participating is what brings the blessings. It's working in the vineyard that is a privilege. It's being a mother and doing the work of motherhood that's a privilege.

One of my favorite lessons from Church History comes from Doctrine and Covenants Section 81, in the heading. In 1832, Jesse Gause was called to the the first counselor to Joseph Smith. He "failed to continue in a manner consistent with this appointment" and Frederick G. Williams was called to replace him. In the original revelation which outlines the blessings and responsibilities of Jesse's calling, you can see Jesse Gause's name crossed out and Frederick G. William's name written over it. 

In other words, Jesse was replaced, and the exact same blessings and responsibilities of his call were given to another. The kingdom of God rolls on, whether you are willing to participate or not. It is your privilege to participate. It is your privilege to receive those blessings and responsibilities. Somebody else could do it.  

The same thing is true for my children. They are my blessing and responsibility, just like being a first counselor was Jesse's blessing and responsibility. But somebody else could do it. Frederick G. Williams fulfilled that calling, somebody else could be Rae, Joe, and Caleb's mother. It's a calling, and I can be replaced. 

Does that sound harsh? 

It's not. 

The Church rolled on without Jesse Gause; my children would roll on without me, but it is my privilege to raise them. I get the opportunity to participate in raising them. And as long as I "continue in a manner consistent with this appointment" I get the responsibility and the blessings. 

I still feel like a hot mess. 
But I also feel hope---that I can change for the better. 
And that brings peace.