We had stake conference today, which was actually a regional conference, as it was broadcast from Salt Lake City, and nine other states were watching.
Elder Oaks was the closing speaker, and he said some things that hit really close to my heart, things which spoke not only to my own situation, but the situation of some friends and family members I have been thinking a lot about.
The most influential story that he told (in my own words, I'll try to do it justice) was an analogy about a stargazing club. You join the stargazing club and when you get there, you realize that many people have a club jacket. Well, the night starts to get cold, and everyone is talking about how warm they are in their jackets. You are waiting to get your jacket, but it seems there aren't any to be had. As the night goes on, everyone is talking about the patches they have added to their jackets, or what detergent they use to clean it, or where they hang it up at home. You begin to feel sad and frustrated because while you are in the club, you don't have a jacket like everyone else, and you can't participate in the things they are conversing about. You begin to feel left out, and you wonder if you will ever get a jacket.
He ended the analogy by speaking to the LDS single adults. However, as I sat there, I felt the "realness" of those words as it applied to me, an LDS woman without children. Not having children can feel exactly like not having a club jacket--you feel sad and frustrated, you wonder if you will ever get a jacket, your faith in your initial happiness begins to waver.
It felt good to be understood for a moment--to hear something that spoke to how I was feeling. As Elder Oaks continued with words of comfort for the single adults, and also for LDS members who have non-member spouses, he said (and I'll paraphrase), "You can't plan everything in life. Sometimes you can't plan for the important things." He reminded us that faith is putting trust in the Lord's timing. He reminded us that the Lord can grow a beautiful tree from even just a twig of faith. I was reminded that I can't plan children. But the Lord has a plan, and I need to be humble enough to fit my life into it, instead of requiring Heavenly Father to change his plans!
Again, his words really spoke to me, as I am finally entering into what I believe to be the
final stage of grief. While I think these stages may actually be a little more cyclical than that particular model displays, I am getting to a point in my life where I can say to Heavenly Father (and MEAN it), "Thy will be done." I am accepting His will for my life, and I'm trying to understand myself in a light other than "potential mother." I am finding that I can possess the qualities of a good mother
without having children at all. I know I can be a happy, caring daughter of God who can move His work forward, and that not being a mother does not make me less of a latter-day saint, less of a woman, less of a wife, less of a daughter of my Heavenly Father. I am not beyond the irony that I was called to be the Primary President of our ward (over about 90 kids), without having children of my own. I think Heavenly Father's purpose may be to show me that the talents I have are not contingent on having children...I can have those qualities with or without having my own children.
There are so many other people out there, that in their own different ways are waiting and hoping for their "club" jacket. I hope that anyone reading this--and even myself!-- can be compassionate towards those whose lives have not taken on a "traditional" LDS role (if there was even one to begin with, which I contend there is not). I will forever be grateful for those people who didn't ask, "Why don't you have children?" I will always appreciate the friends who gently steered a conversation from dirty diapers to "What books has everyone read recently?" I will be grateful for a Bishop who had the faith to place me in a calling where I may be seen as unqualified (heaven knows I feel unqualified!). I am grateful for a husband who recognizes that sometimes, I will still need to cry, be angry, and be irritated (accepting a trial doesn't mean LIKING it!) Heavenly Father has given me this trial, along with the opportunity to recognize that tender mercies that come along because of it. I am so hopeful that this twig of faith I have exercised by trying to accept this trial will grow into a fruitful tree with Heavenly Father's help.
