You do the hard thing

I just read a talk on self-reliance. Not the food storage or planting a garden type (okay the garden bit might have come up) but the important stuff like home and family and overcoming obstacles. It was a powerful and slightly terrifying reminder that I am, unfortunately, in charge of my life. No one is going to swoop in and do it for me; the good, the bad, the hard–all mine.

I have a friend who is struggling, to say the least.  She recently opened up to me about something that happened in her past that almost destroyed her family. The old Devil himself managed to slide into her life like a box of twinkies left over from a party and before she knew it, everything she held dear was hanging by a string.

She was at the bottom of her slope, brown and muddy, and she had to do the hard thing.

I know that the hard thing sucks. I know I’ve never been asked to do the really really hard thing. Heck, I hope and pray that I can stay out of the twinkie box and guard my life for the sake of my covenants and my family. The hard thing sounds terrifying.

She and her girlfriend went through the same hard thing simultaneously. But unlike her, the friend decided to walk away from her marriage and family. It’s amazing what a little perspective can do for a person. Watching the fallout–specifically her friend’s children–has been sobering.

Because all that bit about discovering who we really are? What we need to make us whole? Our right to happiness? It’s all a big fat fake. We are what we sacrifice. Finding yourself isn’t about the next hobby or relationship or accumulating the most “me time,” finding yourself is about taking that ugly thing that’s keeping you from the people you love and throwing it on the altars of Heaven, then dousing it with lighter fluid and watching it go up in flames.

Yes, life is hard. Yes, most of us experience routine disappointment and frustration with our jobs/relationships/homes/waistlines. But there’s nothing that makes me want to spit dirt more than seeing someone who’s willing to sacrifice their family instead of their habit. It sucks and I don’t care. You do the hard thing. Now. Like waiting is going to make it easier?

Because you can only put it off until tomorrow for so long. One day you’ll wake up and someone will have taken your tomorrow from you. Trust me, making the decision and following through might bring on a hail storm of pain, but pussy footing around until your sand runs out and the choice is lost will bring on a tsunami.

And frankly, I don’t know anyone who doesn’t end up being blessed for protecting and saving their children and home. People can grow and change, marriages can improve, and life has a way of mossing over even the ugliest castle ruins.

But you rip up your marriage and you will literally rend flesh. The flesh of my flesh bit you read about in the Bible? That’s children. They’re the ones who end up broken and torn and bleeding.

At the end of the day, if you’re an adult who’s brought babies into this world–whether you think you should have or not–it is your job protect them.

You do the hard thing.

I never want to be nine again

I’m glad to be on this side of third grade.

Our youngest, Johnny, is nine. Theoretically a kid’s tenth year should be full of pocket knives and puppy dog tails. It should include hours of bike riding and Popsicles, tree forts and video games. Who wouldn’t want to be nine?

But today’s nine-year-old is nothing like the ones I grew up with. Life is hard for kids right now and there’s not a whole lot we can do about it.

Take homework for instance. The poor boy comes home with at least 30 minutes of homework a night. Add to that 25 minutes at the piano, a few chores, scouts and whoops! There goes his childhood.

As much as I’d like to torch his homework sheets I recognize that whether we agree with them or not they must be done. He might be nine, but personal accountability has got to come into play sometime.

“But Mom,” he said to me in the car last week, “Who cares? Why do I have to do this stupid homework anyway?”

“Because,” I said, “People who don’t learn to do their homework in third grade grow up and you know what happens? They get fired because they never learned how to finish anything. Without a job they have no money, and if they don’t have money they don’t have a house or food. And you know where they end up living?”

He was pretty captivated at this point and gave me an open mouthed, “Where?”

“They live in a box. And it’s cold and it’s soggy and they’re hungry all the time. Do you want to live in a box?”

“No…”

“Then finish your spelling!”

As much as I’d like to knock something out of his schedule there’s no doubt that it’s all adding to his personal development. Lately tether ball has become somewhat of a staple in the life of this nine year old.  I've even found myself using it as leverage; fair or not, it is what it is.

The other evening I watched a particularly brutal match up and quietly approached Aaron afterwards.  "Honey, do you have to be so tough on him?  Can't you let him win once in a while?"

"No," he said, "Because the day he finally beats me is the day he'll remember for the rest of his life.  This is good for him, does it look like he's complaining?"  I looked over and watched Johnny setting up a rematch, shrugged and left it alone.

The two of them have been playing on and off for the past two weeks and Saturday, for the first time, Johnny won. When he realized it he practically cartwheeled his way through the house. “I won! Mom, I beat Dad!”

I guess being nine might be hard, but it isn’t without its rewards.

Jealousy and The End Of The World

You know how sometimes you’re sitting with a friend talking about how awesome General Conference was and she says how so many of the talks were on envy and wow that’s really a problem and you think meh I don’t really worry too much about that so you say it out loud and she snorts because she knows you so well?

I love April. Nothing like General Conference to reinforce gravity.

I’m happy enough with my lot. I don’t spend very much time reading about or filching details on what other people are doing/getting/spending because I’m pretty caught up in myself.

‘Cause obviously that’s so much better.

But talking to my girlfriend the other day, she made a really good point. “I didn’t think those talks really applied to me,” she said. “I love my life, it’s not like I spend time wishing I had something else. But then when I heard that message the second time it made me think. By the third time…well, let’s just say I’ve got stuff.”

I was listening to conference again and I got to thinking about what she said. Funny, all I had to do was apply a little brain power and I could think of two good handfuls of crap that I need to work on, just in that one area.

I know the Lord’s intention isn’t to bring all our ugly old sins to our remembrance with conference. Actually I take that back, I think He’s pretty eager for us to be aware of where we’re slacking or lacking so we can step up and be ready for the Big Day (since that day could potentially be eight months away–according to the Mayans and me–I take His pokes mostly seriously. My church doesn’t actually believe any of that date crap but I like to have my bases covered).

Listening to the Prophet and his apostles speak is my favorite security blanket. Remembering all over again that God has not forgotten us, that He’s still giving us commandments and revelations and solutions to our super unique and often terrifying spin here on Earth settles me. Soothes me. Gives me a really quick look at the eternal perspective and I like it.

With some of the challenges I’m seeing come up fast right now, I needed that extra lift.

I’m not dreading my trials this week, I’m embracing them. It feels really, really good.

Mostly.