Is There a Word for That?

My Dad recommended a talk by Sharon Eubank, the Director of LDS Charities, that was given a week ago at a FAIR conference.  ("This is a Woman's Church", by Sharon Eubank, August 12, 2014)  FAIR is a group of Mormon apologists, or folks on a mission to defend our LDS-ness and our doctrine to the world.  They asked Sister Eubank, a smart, powerful, successful, mid-50's, single, impressive woman, to address some recent Mormon news-- the Ordain Women movement.  The talk was beautiful.  I have read it many times and listened to it, too.  The ideas have been rolling around in my head since last Friday.

There is material in the talk for several posts here on this blog, so this just might be a series, but the first I want to discuss is this story and an idea from Sister Eubank:

"..As I want to talk about these kinds of things (women and their role in the Church), I find that I don’t have the vocabulary. There are no terms to talk about the things I want to talk about. I had a friend. She was an elderly woman. She was from Estonia. She was translating the Book of Mormon into the Estonian language, even while it was still behind the Iron Curtain. And she had dictionaries, and she had grown up under Communist rule and she was struggling with how to talk about certain terms in there because they had been stripped out of the Estonian language by the Communists. They had taken those words and removed them from practice and speech and from books and there were no terms anymore to talk about priesthood, for example. The words didn’t exist for that and she really struggled with “how do I translate the Book of Mormon without these concepts?” And if you don’t have language, you don’t have an understanding of the roles.  I think a really good example of this is: we don’t know what to call a mission president’s wife. And we don’t know how to describe the role that she plays. We know in our gut that there is a role, and that it is indispensable and that nobody else is filling it if she isn’t there, but we don’t even know what to call that...so much of our language is missing because we don’t know what to call things."

I am fascinated by the idea that our LDS lexicon does not have all the words we need to describe what a woman does. Julie B Beck gave us "Motherheart", which is a wonderful word to describe the feelings bumping around in our chests that provoke us to minister to God's children.  Sister Eubank mentioned "Temple Matron" as a good one, too.  But still, it isn't quite comprehensive.  I mean, we all understand "Bishop", but what word describes "The Bishop's Wife".  We know what it means to be a Stake President, but how do you capture in a concept the gal he is married to.

I agree with Sister Eubank that our vocabulary as a Church does not perfectly include words that can describe very well the marvelous roles of women.  And it's not because women don't have roles.  I feel like this Church uses me and challenges me to grow through the things I am asked to do. (We'll talk about that more in the next posts.)  It also develops me by the things Greg, because we are a "Divine Pair", is asked to do.  I believe that it is all fair and it is all the way that God is working on both halves of the whole in Supreme brilliance.

And truly, most of the time it doesn't really matter about that word-thing. I mean, I know what I do and I know what is expected of me and I want to give that freely without title.  But if you (or me) were struggling to know who you were and what value you brought to the equation, then a word just might help.  And Sister Eubank offering this as one reason why the Ordain Women movement exists, is just really interesting to me.  In summary, it's not because women don't have key roles in God's Plan and in our Church, it is because there are not words in our Mormon dictionary for what we do.

So I have given it some thought.  OK, a lot of thought.  And I am not quite there yet, but I am going to share my initial "words" for the women of this Church and probably women everywhere--

* Patriot of Kith and Kin
Because "Patriot" means:  "...a person who loves, supports, and defends his or her (little, personal, homemade) country and its interests with devotion."  And I think that this describes the altruistic reason why we do things and it captures my feelings of allegiance and fervor.

* Director of the DEMA
(which stands for Domestic Emergency Management Agency, which is like our national FEMA.  Ha.)
This title is because I do the pre-work and am the pre-arranger of life-saving preparations for impending storms. I am in charge of buttoning down the hatches to keep us all safe.  And I am the rescue arm when there's a man down or when one is stranded on his roof surrounded in flood.  There I am with my motor boat and ladder.  I work prevention.  I work clean up.

* Editor in Chief
Which means that I boil down the kids and the home into a palatable, concise reduction and serve it to Greg at the end of the day so that he has a taste of the doings the family.  This way he feels part of the unit even when away. I am a colander, or a sieve or a filter catching what is important.  I am also the "study it out" arm of our companionship on things pertaining to the family.  I dig and research, make the calls, gather the info and go to him with a presentation, of sorts.  Then, quickly, we can make a final decision together. I also dream up the story of our tribe, work it, then write down our family history.

* Grand Oversee-er
This one means that my world is a great, big umbrella.  I see what's in front of me, and I see what is away from me and I try to decipher it all, take care of it all, and keep it all collected under one eye.  I know where each member of the family is and where they need to be next.  I work Saturday activity spreadsheets and tricky calendaring.  I also work to see the kids' potential in a big picture, keep track of it, and teach to it.

* Family Foreman
This title means that my work is to create a home with a total environment of support, love, and order-- a house of prayer, fasting, faith, learning, glory, order, a house of God. I clean and organize. I orchestrate work. I charge a crew. My finger is on things inside and out.  Test me on where the red football is, the Nike jacket, the iPod charger.  I know.  And I just painted furniture, so I get bonus points on the literal this week.

* Matron of Teflon
Which title means that with mothers, things don't stick to you.  You can be hated and freaky and crazy.  You can be pulling out your hair and pounding your head, but you love anyway.  Because when you see that little person lying with closed eyes and tucked into a puffy bed of your making, all you remember is that they are your boy and you love them with every molecule of your existence.  You just can't resist pushing back the hair from their brow and kissing their little heads.  They push, and you love on.  They get rascal-y, and you love on.  You let things go.  You forgive quickly and generously.  You love no matter what because every one needs a mother who thinks that they are wonderful and God has endowed you with the ability to be that for them.

* Resident Rector
This word because I am a religionist who is in charge of a congregation that we call our family.  I iron shirts and keep Sunday clothes clean. I load the family mini-van for Sunday meetings, youth activities and Early Morning Seminary.  I lead my congregates in praying and studying. I try to have something spiritual brewing in my head so that I draw things back to the inspiring in conversation.  My greatest desire is to facilitate things so that faith can grow.  And sometimes I kneel at the bedside of reluctants with New Era stories and scriptures and words from the prophets, night after night.  And I pray over my little flock.  A lot.

So there is my first attempt to try to put caption on unnamed woman-ish concepts.  Thanks, Sister Eubank for inspiring me to look for "words". I feel empowered.

A Little Story about Tomato Plants....and Kids

About Tomato Plants--
I went to Matkins Nursery a couple of weeks ago and bought Creole tomatoes-- a Louisiana variety that is supposed to love the heat and humidity. I have been very excited and have big plans for them-- salsa and salads and BLT's and fresh slices. I picture a big yield.  I'm a little conflicted on where to plant them though.  My garden only gets morning sun so that means my harvest is always small.  That is not acceptable to me with these fancy plants, and I have been trying to get the courage to put them in a pot where they can gather optimal sun.

While I was thinking about where to plant them, the tomatoes were not happy in a paper box on the driveway.  They were hard to take care outside in their little plastic, root-bound home and they ended each day thirsty and hanging their heads droopy.  I brought them into my kitchen sick and they have been there for more than a week.  They seem to be happy-- all taut and upright.  It is a great, safe place where I can keep tabs on them and monitor them carefully. I have discovered that they are a lot easier to take care of captive under a faucet then they were outside in the elements.

I wish that I could just keep them in my kitchen sink, but I know that they will never produce me tomatoes there.  They will get tired of living in that little carton.  There is nowhere for the roots to go. They need a chance to spread out. And my plants will miss the sunshine.   I know that the best place for them will be sun-bathing in a pot on my deck, but, I can't get over the risks. There's lots of uncertainty in a planter pot, and it sure feels snug to have them under my watchful care.

About Kids--
I went visiting teaching the other day and we discussed an April 2014 Elder Eyring quote from General Conference, "Never force righteousness because righteousness must be chosen."  I think that there was consensus among the ladies that it is scary to watch our children make choices.  That sounds really silly because agency is at the heart of God's Plan for our probation, but it doesn't feel that simple.  It feels risky. What if they don't follow your example?  What is they don't heed your teaching and your urging?  What if they miss something because they opted out? What if they make a bad choice? Pride...will that make me look like a bad parent?  What if they fail? They could wreck their life! Shouldn't we be there to catch before a stumble, to divert trouble, and to save them from themselves?

Shouldn't we just keep them in our "kitchen sinks"?

We can't.

I don't mean that we stop teaching, urging and inspiring.  That we check out, become hands off, or that somehow this idea releases us from our familial disciplining duties.  But, what I am learning is that we need to trust that our children have their own conscience.  That not only do they have our love and our good advice, they have the light of Christ and the Holy Ghost's promptings. That God sends angels into their lives.  That He pricks their hearts with words, teachings, music, and experiences just like we know He does for us.  That even more than they tell us, they know much and are learning much.  That they have their own little thinkers and are their very own persons.  That they come to us at birth with character and spirit that is well developed. That there are some things that they will just have to learn by doing, or by not doing.

I admit to fretting sometimes....seeing disappointing choices as a hopeless slippery slope....not wanting children to choose anything that may look like the first step to indifference or worse...feeling, quite incorrectly, like you have partial ownership in a child's chance at life.

Walking in faith means setting aside these fears.  It is trusting that God's Plan comes with scary, temporary risks, but ends in mandatory personal growth and development.  It is in believing in a long view which includes a marvelous "harvest" because of beautiful, Divine redemption and salvation.

Today is the day I plant outside.

Calling Them Home

While Greg and I were on Prince Edward Island recently, we happened onto a little fishing village named, North Rustico. The city was right against the ferocious waves and winds of the Gulf of Saint Lawrence and the water pressed hard against the red sandstone shores. The tiny homes were beaten and bruised from sea breeze, but there was industry and pride in the village. Their lobster traps were neatly stacked. The buoys were nicely piled. It was a lovely, idyllic place.

It was getting dusky and dark, and thick fog was settling in when we walked out on a breezeway and looked back on North Rustico from the sea. Standing in the middle of those noisy, crashing, churning waves, one thing stood out-- in the center of the town at the ocean's edge was the North Rustico Lighthouse. It's turning head was bright and seemed to be searching.

Now, I had been admiring lighthouses for several days as Greg and I had driven north from Portland Maine, but this was the first time where it occurred to me that lighthouses do more than help folks avoid dangerous rocks and cliffs. This North Rustico beacon seemed to be calling. This light seemed to be beckoning folks to leave the ocean's indignation and return to safety. It’s bright light wouldn’t allow the searcher at sea to miss the village amidst the boundless dark water of an ocean's night sky. It was lighting the way through dark and fog and endless wave to loving hearth.

The world is churning like that ocean. There is a constant press and an exhausting flurry of ideas and pull. There are waves and winds that cause grief and fear. There are enticements that lead out into the roar of the ocean. For me, that North Rustico Village symbolizes the invaluable work of women. Heaven blessed with feminine qualities of love and compassion, with squishy hearts, and the ability to nurture, women create a refuge. A place of order from chaos. A homecoming of warmth and safe haven. Like that lighthouse, we call our families out of the waves and back to us where there is love, kindness, and still.

All we do has purpose-- clean sheets, puffy beds, folded clothes, warm dinners, homemade treats, and tidy surroundings coupled with smiles, acceptance, kindness, discipline, cheerleading, patience and love. It all beckons.

And beyond our families, mothering is extending this “safe place” to all whom we meet. In our gaze, our language, our interactions with friend and stranger, we can nurture, comfort and provide safe haven. In just moments, a woman can establish a “home” for anyone.

To All the Women in My Life-- I want you to know on this 2014 Mothering Day that, to me, YOU are North Rustico and that bright, searching lighthouse. I read your Facebook posts, your blogs and Christmas cards. I enjoy your emails and talking to you on the phone. I love seeing you on the soccer fields and in the grocery store. I remember conversations that we have had from yesterday and from long ago. I reminisce on things that we have done together. In it all, I see a champion. I admire you. I am inspired by you. I have been mothered by you. I think YOU are pure heroics. You are, individually, making heaven out of your little corner of earth, and as women collectively, this world is a nicer, kinder, sweeter, safer place. I love you.

Happy Mothering Day!

I am a Satisfied and Grateful Mormon Woman

I'm hearing in the news and reading on social media this morning that there are ripples flowing.  Discontents are throwing stones into the Church's lake.  Ordain Women wants to go to Priesthood Session and say it's discrimination not to be able to.  Their end game is for Church doctrine to change so that women can be ordained to the priesthood.  The Church is asking them to reconsider the protest.  Here is the Church's public response:
http://www.mormonnewsroom.org/article/church-asks-activist-group-to-reconsider-general-conference-protest-plans?fb_action_ids=10152287517758188&fb_action_types=og.likes  

This is nothing new, I guess, but it kind of bothers me today.  I know that I only have a little voice, but still want to say out loud that I am a satisfied and grateful Mormon woman.

Firstly (in an admission that I don't understand the background of these gals and also wanting to be kind), it reminds me that people truly think differently.  From one who's mind cranks tirelessly, I know that there are plenty of ideas in this world to process.  But, what bugs you, doesn't bug your friend.  Where you feel passionate, others feel neutral.  Because our journey through life is our very own Divinely-crafted adventure, we can't expect to understand exactly where another is coming from.

I'm thinking that we need to be patient with each other, which, I believe, is exactly what the Church's statement did.  We are all a work in process. But, with this caveat--  Be careful.  Patience does not require that we snuggle with another's ideas.

Secondly (and preaching to the squawkers a little), we are all stewards of our thoughts.  While we may not, personally, put them all up there, we can decide how to face ideas and opinions that creep into our minds or across our computer screens.  Because we have been gifted with such a brilliant collection of grey matter, we can figure out what to do with them once they are there. Will we embrace and explore?  Will we dismiss?  Will we place them on a virtual shelf in a closed box for a later time?  Will we open it up, roll it over and over again?  And will we do this in private or will be incite others to think about them with us?

I'm thinking that we need to be choosy.  We must be very careful about what we share and what we fight for.  Especially things that cause polarity, loss of faith, rebellion, despair, and blood pressure changes. We just can't mess with other people's faith.

Thirdly, I want to say for the record that I am an immovable Mormon Mrs. Cleaver.  The only way she could have been more perfect to me was if she was teaching a Primary class. I don't think that you could convert me to an any more liberal idea of what womanhood is.  You couldn't convince me that June was living below her potential or being cheated by donning a ruffled apron and caring for a home, a husband, a family, and a community.  I think that she was adorable, and smart, and measured, and happy, and needed, and fulfilled.  And so am I, fulfilled that is. I have a role in this world.  I have a mission. I want to be a mother.  I want to be a wife.  I want to serve the community. I want to belong to the nurturing, compassionate Relief Society.

And while this is not the portrait of every Latter-day Saint woman, there are endless ways for every single one of us to grow, develop, use our talents, and make an abundant difference.  The truth is that whatever good I do, or have done, ALL rolls out of what this Church has taught me, the experiences that it has given me, and what is expected of me as a Latter-day Saint woman.

I don't want a man's mission.  I believe in roles.  I believe that we can have different stewardships.  And I don't believe that having them diminishes us in any way.  On the contrary, it makes a more powerful outfit.  Men and women together in their uniqueness make 100%.  I want to be part of the Kingdom's team. I want to stand with the prophets and apostles.

There.

I must try to remember, even though it doesn't feel like it exactly: "What does it matter if a few barking dogs snap at the heels.... The caravan moves on."    ("The Caravan Moves On", Bruce R McConkie, Oct 1984)

For Your Pre-Schooler, YOU are Just What He Needs

I read an article online this morning quoting Canadian developmental psychologist Dr. Gordon Neufeld.  He taught of an opinion he holds concerning nurturing young children. (AUGUST 30, 2012 | by ANDREA MROZEK, Manager of Research and Communications, Institute of Marriage and Family Canada)

Mr Neufeld asserted that formal “early learning”, like pre-school, does not help children and that they should start attending school later, not earlier.  He said that, “Early learning programs (like letters and numbers) for young children have no benefits for kids", and that the focus instead needs to be strong attachment and security.  He said that "...the capacity for healthy relationships is meant to unfold in the first six years of life."  He continued, “By the fifth year of life, if everything (has been) continuous and safe (for the child), then healthy emotional intimacy begins. ...The first issue (in raising a child) is always to establish strong, deep emotional connections with those who are raising you. And that should be our emphasis in society.”

Mr Neufeld debunks pre-school claims of the merits of socialization and diversity and detachment.  He says that the stress of timelines and deadlines and schedules are "crushing the spirit of childhood" and are asking our kids to adopt the stresses of adulthood from the cradle.  His professional opinion is that children should spend zero through the fifth year with the person who will raise them.  The focus should be on establishing a deep, personal, emotional connection-- a lovely bond of trust, with a little person's parents.  That is the most important development to forge during those years.

This news is not vogue and is so off-trend.  Still, I believe it is worth a think.

I did craft days and little mother co-ops a little bit, but I always called the program that my kids went to during those early years, "Mother's Pre-School."

That meant-- Going on grocery trips where they pushed little shopping carts of their own or put things from the shelves into my cart. Visiting museums and zoos without time constraint and with freedom to roam and explore.  Pushing them on the swings at the park and doing lots of "underdogs".  Swimming in the baby pool. Finding stop signs and fire hydrants on long stroller walks.  Playing in the sand box with dinosaurs and trucks. Taking a rest with Blues Clues while sitting on my hip.  Long baths with lots of bubbles and toys.  Cooking or crafting their own concoctions parallel to a project I was working on.  Clipping and pasting photos and cut-outs onto cardstock while I scrapbooked. Doing the dishes with me and pouring water from cup to cup. I used to tell Greg that the kids were "learning volume", with several towels on the floor to soak up the spills.  Decorating cookies they they helped roll out.  Bug catching at the baseball fields...that was Jaron, and for hours.  Frog explorations after dark in furry pajamas.  Snow suits, snowmen, and snow forts which meant putting mitten and hats on and taking them off many times a day in snowy Minnesota.  Puzzles and board games...lots of board games, and the kids always beat me.  Illustrating books of their own from paper we stapled. Paper airplanes and paper helicopters, that we had folded, and then launched off the balcony.  Chasing the garbage truck all through the neighborhood so that we could watch those marvelous arms do their thing over and over again. Hammering nails. Holding my hand.  Going to the library for story time and sitting in my lap, then watching the fish and those slimy eels in the aquarium for as long as we wanted to.  Planting seeds and plants, then harvesting vegetables.  Raking up the leaves and watching them toss them and roll in them.  Organizing Pokemon cards together by the numbers and by the "types".  Making exactly what they wanted for dinner.  Walking down to Mr Newman's farm and feeding the goats all of our spoiling vegetables.  Picking blueberries or black berries on a farm. Reading biographies of famous men and women and interesting historical times.  Laying in bed to read storybooks at nap time and nighttime.

I like these little memories and am pleased that I have them tucked into my history.  But wait a minute, kids in preschools and daycares also finger paint and read storybooks.  It's true. The curriculum in what I called "Mother's Preschool" was similar to formal preschools.  I think that Mr Neufeld would say that the difference is about the developmental needs of a child from 0-5 years old.  He/she is working at learning emotional intimacy and trust, and that is best developed at home with "the adult that will raise him/her".  If I understand Mr Neufeld right, the charm and importance in what I described above was the not about the activities, as much as it was about WHO the child was doing them with.  interesting.  A mother (and father) love the child, have interest in him long-term, are endowed with patience and love and loyalty that no provider can match, and have a divine commission to do so  It's about love.  It's the love and loyalty that develops "emotional intimacy", "safety", "continuity", and "deep connections" that Mr Neufeld is advocating.  All of those learning experiences have the most value when they are developing security and trust with someone who is in it for the long haul.   It is doing those things with a parent who will be along for the ride for years and years to come.

I think that it's ok to reject society's pull into pre-schooler learning programs as essential to a child's development.  God sent these kids to you and to me, and we, with His help, are enough.  In fact, better than enough, Dr Neufeld says that just a plain old mom, her time, and her love is exactly what the pre-schooler needs.