Lessons for 2023 from an Amaryllis

I’ve often said that I have a “black thumb” because plants given to me have usually died rather than thrived. Thus, when my sister gave me an amaryllis bulb kit that was intended to bloom at Christmastime, I was worried.

 

Little did I know, as I valiantly tried to strictly follow the directions on how to plant the bulb in the included soil and pot, that observing the growing cycle of this lovely gift over the coming days would help me see how I could make 2023 become a year of increased joy and satisfaction. 

A Simple Phrase that Changed My Life Forever

Fifty-five years ago this morning, I woke up, knelt by the side of my bed in my off-campus apartment at BYU, and prepared to utter the same prayer I had been offering for the previous nine days. 

Ever since I had met David Stone, I had been pleading with my Heavenly Father to tell me if David was indeed the person whom I should marry and be joined to for all eternity. On our first date, arranged over the telephone after a friend of David’s had spoken highly of me, we both sensed that we might have met our future spouse. 

A few days before, the two of us had fasted and prayed to know the Lord's will, and although David felt he had received a positive answer, I hadn't.  Before he left Provo the day before, we had agreed that we would keep in touch and see how our relationship developed.

The Envelope

It started with an envelope.

Yesterday, after we had played several board games, my Kindergartner granddaughter Paige was looking through the various kinds of paper in my craft box, intending to draw or write something during her after-school visit with me. She found a greeting card envelope, selected a piece of yellow card stock, and told me she wanted to make a card for “Grampa.”  

Grampa, aka my late husband, passed away when Paige was not yet three years old. I doubt she can really remember him, but on my kitchen counter are two digital photo frames that scroll through family photos including many of him, some even with her as a baby or toddler. When Paige is eating her after-school snack, she looks at those photos, and often either names some of the people in them, or asks me who they are. Some are of my parents and grandparents, and I have on occasion mentioned that they, like Grampa, have died, and are happily living in Heaven now. Whether seeing photos of Grampa keeps real memories of him fresh in her mind, or that she just continues to love her idea of him, I know not.

No Looking Back

A little over nine years ago, my oldest son and I exchanged good-bye waves and smiled at each other as he backed out of our driveway for the last time. My husband and I had sold our house, and were moving out of state to live nearer our grandchildren.

As he drove off, my son’s head was held high, and he didn’t look back.

He had recently been laid off from his job; but he was now excited about beginning a new career as a writer. Despite the known difficulties of breaking into the ranks of literary professionals, his success in getting several stories published during the last few years spurred him to consider the loss of his increasingly joyless job as an opportunity to jump wholeheartedly into that other field. With concerted effort, determination and a bit of luck, he was hopeful that he would soon be able to make his living doing what he truly loved to do.

As I watched his car disappear around a bend, the tears began to flow, and my mind went back to another farewell experience that had occurred when he was nineteen:

The Power of Example

I have a grandson who thinks he's a dog. An only child, he's almost a year old, and he has grown up in close association with a very friendly and protective family pet. Although he can walk several steps alone now, he prefers to crawl; and lately he has taken to carrying toys in his mouth as he scurries around on all fours--just like his older and bigger "brother" does.

Very soon, of course, he will realize that he is really not a dog, but a human like Mom and Dad. Once he is able to walk faster than he can crawl, he'll see that hands are better than his mouth for carrying toys. But meanwhile, he is a living example of how naturally little children learn by example.

I'm around little children a lot, and I need to remember that the things I do and say, the way I deal with everyday crises and triumphs, even the expressions on my face that show how I react to things--all these are examples that can help those little ones to grow into honest, compassionate, hard-working adults.

Just as my grandson will come to know that he is more like his earthly parents than like his dog, I pray he will come to realize he also has the divine potential to develop the attributes of his Heavenly Father.

The family dog can teach a boy a lot about having fun, loyalty, obedience, and affection. But it will be the good example of the humans around him that will truly help him see who he really is, and what he can become.

Plumbing the Depths without Languishing in the Dumps

(Note: I have never suffered from clinical depression, so in this post I am referring only to my experience with emotions. I recognize that my case may not be typical.)

Mulling & Musing has written a beautiful post on motherhood at her blog, entitled Digging Deep. It set me to thinking about how and why I had grown and changed for the better over the last 41 years since we had our first child.

My memories of being a stay-at-home-mother of six were sharpened earlier this summer, when I received a packet of about 40 letters I had written over a period several years to my sister-in-law, telling of our daily life when the children were growing up. As I read about some of the incredibly demanding times in my life, I recalled how much I had to learn to rely on the Lord to bring me through the tough times.

I could also remember how much I loved being a mother of my children at their different stages of life; and how much joy came into my life--and still comes into my life--because those six amazing spirits had been lent to my husband and me by the Lord. I can't imagine any other career that would have given me the breadth and depth of intellectual, emotional and spiritual experience that I have been privileged to have as a wife and mother.

Even though as LDS mothers we are bound to have feelings of inadequacy, and there are times when we aren't sure we can stand the pressure one more minute, we can know that if we are willing to have faith and trust in the Lord, there is a sure source of divine help that will never fail. Often, for me, the answers or solutions did not come immediately. But when I was willing to let go of my anger and/or anguish, the comfort and reassurance always came. The faith and trust part usually involved plumbing the depths of patience if I wanted to avoid remaining emotionally in the dumps.

My children are all grown now, and I try to treat them as equals--not demanding too much attention, and shying away from giving unasked-for advice. But I will always be their mother; and I continue to weep for their sorrows and rejoice at their happiness and success in life. My love for them only grows stronger, and I will always, always, care about how their lives are unfolding.

In her post, M & M quoted from Elder Jeffrey R. Holland’s talk “Because She Is a Mother” , given in the April 1997 General Conference. This is a favorite talk of mine, also, and I read that same quote to our Marriage and Family Relations Sunday School class recently because it is a key part of the lesson on the sacred role of mother.

I guess I must have cried a million tears over the years. But I have also laughed a lot more than I have cried. Fortunately, as time goes by, I find that I forget more and more of the sad times, and remember the happy times. As I have sorrowed over my mistakes as a wife and mother, I have tried to fully repent, and then allow the miracle of the Atonement to heal my broken heart. This is still an ongoing process for me, but I can see that I have made progress.

Whenever I am tempted to sink from sadness into despair because of my failures and shortcomings as a mother, I try to remember the sentiments expressed by Elder Holland in that same talk:

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." And it will make your children whole as well.

That ultimate hope--that my children can be healed of any harm due to my thoughtless or unwise words or actions--sustains me when I wonder if I have contributed to the cause of any of their present sufferings.

Once again, M & M found the way to beautifully express the thoughts of my heart about why I have been, and still am, immensely grateful to be a mother:

. . . I am doing this motherhood thing -- giving so much of my life and self and time and energy -- not just because the children need me (which they do, imperfect as I am), but because I need them. I need to be their mom, to learn to overcome my natural self. This role is teaching me new depths of faith and love and sacrifice and endurance, and helping me feel new depths of God's love and grace and refining power.