I Showed Up

As fun as yesterday was, today was a lot of work. Jeremy was on call, which meant I was on my own at church. Between it being in the middle of their naps now (from 1-4pm), it was 5 degrees outside, and I knew I'd be wrestling all three kids during the Sacrament Meeting, I was tempted to stay home. But I didn't. I can remember a teacher somewhere saying at least half of what we do to be faithful in the gospel is to just show up. Well, we showed up.

A friend who has mercifully come to our house usually twice a month to just talk with me or help with the girls came and sat with us only 5 minutes in. She helped with Katie while I tried to get the girls to realize they were OK to just SIT on my lap. My friend ended up taking Katie back to sit with her family and another friend sat by me to help with the girls. They didn't want anyone else to hold them but me. Not that they wanted to sit still by any means, they just had to be touching me or have me touching them. I was in much better humor this time around and laughed a lot. But the rest of the three hour block was still a bit ridiculous. Katie was brought to me twice so she could use the bathroom (I'm so proud of how well she's doing!) and both times I would leave two screaming babies in the arms of someone else while I took her to the bathroom. As I stood outside of Relief Society for the last part of church a friend talked to me about how it's hard to not just stay home when you have to do it alone.

I thought about that. There are so many women in our ward that regularly bring their kids to church alone. Whether it's an unsupportive spouse, health reasons, stake callings, or, as is the case with most of us, husbands working, we still come. Week after week I watch as we take turns helping each other or sympathetically - more like empathetically - staring in amazement and listening supportively as we all strive to remember why we do this, why we come. Then I also see those who come completely alone - no spouse or kids - and how much they need love and support and we all reach out to each other.

The truth is it would be easier to stay home than come to church every Sunday. It would be easier to not worry about what we listen to, watch, or wear. For me it would be easier to work and pay for a nanny than it is to stay home (fortunately, Jeremy's income and insurance are enough I don't have to). But I can't. I know what I believe. I know what's important to me. Easier doesn't mean happier. I choose the things I do because I have faith in a God who keeps his promises, who answers prayers, who can see the whole picture, who loves me eternally and wants me to have lasting happiness and peace. These little daily sacrifices are hard, but they are shaping me and helping me become a more compassionate, more patient, and better person. As hard as it is to have all three of them so dependent on me day in and day out, it's those moments that are shaping their lives, their faith and understanding, their picture of what love is and who they are. I cannot give that away, it will never come back. I go to church every Sunday because my girls need to know that when I make a commitment to our God I will stand by it and not change my mind because it's harder than it used to be. I see what those other awesome moms are also doing. They are modeling and teaching that there is more to them and their lives than their own personal comfort. They are willing to make those tiny sacrifices to show their faith and commitment. It's not to show anyone else than their God, their family, and themselves, but now that I strive to do it too, I see it.

I had no idea that my faith would be so tested as a mother. And there are so many other ways as well. But for today I am happy to say: I showed up.