Long ago, before I got married and had kids, I had an image of who I wanted to be and would become. It was based a lot on my Patriarchal Blessing and the areas it said I would need to work on or would be blessed with. I felt that I was well on my way to becoming HER.
Then I got married and started having kids. I kind of forgot about HER in the survival mode of early motherhood. I stopped working on becoming what I wanted because it was just too hard during hormonal changes and exhaustion. I regret that I didn't put more time into it, because I know that my family has suffered for it.
We are truly at a good place now. The kids are all old enough to be self sufficient enough to not need me every second. Conversely, they are not old enough to have all of the teenage angst and their own burgeoning hormones to combat. The old mantra that it is better late than never, is helping me to want to refocus my energies on what it will take to become HER.
A couple of Sundays ago, the Primary lesson I taught was on the hymns. While I adore the hymns and singing them and have always felt inspired by them, I guess I didn't realize just how powerful they are. It shouldn't surprise me that hymns are portals for the Spirit. What does the Spirit do? He testifies of Christ, He guides us, He helps us to remember things that we knew before we came here, He teaches us, He protects us. The hymns are so important because they allow the Spirit in to our homes, lives, and church meetings. They intrinsically tie us to our Heavenly Father and our Savior as we learn about them, worship, and praise them.
My favorite story (the Church history Primary manual is so full of stories that are awesome!) is where the Saints travelling west would always end their nights singing and dancing, with the final song being "Come, Come Ye Saints". One particular night, unbeknownst to them, they were surrounded by a tribe of angry Indians. As the pioneers sang the hymn, the Spirit touched and softened the hearts of the Indians. Years later, some missionaries went to visit this particular tribe and were told the story. After he told the story, the chief pulled out an old violin and started to play the melody of "Come, Come Ye Saints". He said "This is your song, but it is also my song. I play it every night before I go to bed and it brings peace to me and to my people."
It's hard to tell the kids these stories without crying.
My goal for this week is to "Hum my Favorite Hymn", whatever it is for the moment. Instead of allowing myself to get angry, instead of allowing myself to judge, to yell, or to do any of the wrong things I do so often, I want to sing or hum a hymn. It's not working very well yet, I will freely admit that. This is something that will need lots of practice and patience. Changing a life after 40 years is probably supposed to be hard. I do, however, know that it is possible and quite frankly, I would rather the slow and steady method over a forced quick one resulting from a tragedy.
And now I have to go get the girls ready for school. Despite my best intentions every morning, this has been a time of frustration every school day. Nothing brings out the fighting like being told to get dressed, find shoes, put homework in backpacks, and eat breakfast and to do it all in a timely manner. Onward and upward. On, on to the victory!
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