(This talk was just too good. I needed to post it. It's by Jeffrey R. Holland April 1997).
There are some lines attributed to Victor Hugo which read:
“She
broke the bread into two fragments and gave them to her children, who
ate with eagerness. ‘She hath kept none for herself,’ grumbled the
sergeant.
“‘Because she is not hungry,’ said a soldier.
“‘No,’ said the sergeant, ‘because she is a mother.’”
In
a year when we are celebrating the faith and valor of those who made
that exacting trek across Iowa, Nebraska, and Wyoming, I wish to pay
tribute to the modern counterparts of those pioneer mothers who watched
after, prayed for, and far too often buried their babies on that long
trail. To the women within the sound of my voice who dearly want to be
mothers and are not, I say through your tears and ours on that subject,
God will yet, in days that lie somewhere ahead, bring “hope to [the]
desolate heart.”
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As prophets have repeatedly taught from this pulpit, ultimately
“no blessing shall be withheld” from the faithful, even if those
blessings do not come immediately.
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In the meantime we rejoice that the call to nurture is not limited to our own flesh and blood.
In
speaking of mothers I do not neglect the crucial, urgent role of
fathers, particularly as fatherlessness in contemporary homes is
considered by some to be “the central social problem of our time.”
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Indeed, fatherlessness can be a problem even in a home where the
father is present—eating and sleeping, so to speak, “by remote.” But
that is a priesthood message for another day. Today I wish to praise
those motherly hands that have rocked the infant’s cradle and, through
the righteousness taught to their children there, are at the very center
of the Lord’s purposes for us in mortality.
In
so speaking I echo Paul, who wrote in praise of Timothy’s “unfeigned
faith … , which dwelt first,” he said, “in thy grandmother Lois, and
[in] thy mother Eunice.”
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“From [the days when thou wert] a child,” Paul said, “thou hast known the holy scriptures.”
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We give thanks for all the mothers and grandmothers from whom such truths have been learned at such early ages.
In speaking of mothers generally, I especially wish to praise and encourage young
mothers. The work of a mother is hard, too often unheralded work. The
young years are often those when either husband or wife—or both—may
still be in school or in those earliest and leanest stages of developing
the husband’s breadwinning capacities. Finances fluctuate daily between
low and nonexistent. The apartment is usually decorated in one of two
smart designs—Deseret Industries provincial or early Mother Hubbard. The
car, if there is one, runs on smooth tires and an empty tank. But with
night feedings and night teethings, often the greatest challenge of all
for a young mother is simply fatigue. Through these years, mothers go
longer on less sleep and give more to others with less personal renewal
for themselves than any other group I know at any other time in life. It
is not surprising when the shadows under their eyes sometimes vaguely
resemble the state of Rhode Island.
Of
course the irony is that this is often the sister we want to call—or
need to call—to service in the ward and stake auxiliaries. That’s
understandable. Who wouldn’t want the exemplary influence of these young
Loises- and Eunices-in-the-making? Everyone, be wise. Remember that
families are the highest priority of all, especially in those formative
years. Even so, young mothers will still find magnificent ways to serve
faithfully in the Church, even as others serve and strengthen them and
their families in like manner.
Do
the best you can through these years, but whatever else you do, cherish
that role that is so uniquely yours and for which heaven itself sends
angels to watch over you and your little ones. Husbands—especially
husbands—as well as Church leaders and friends in every direction, be
helpful and sensitive and wise. Remember, “To every thing there is a
season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven.”
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Mothers,
we acknowledge and esteem your faith in every footstep. Please know
that it is worth it then, now, and forever. And if, for whatever reason,
you are making this courageous effort alone, without your husband at
your side, then our prayers will be all the greater for you, and our
determination to lend a helping hand even more resolute.
One
young mother wrote to me recently that her anxiety tended to come on
three fronts. One was that whenever she heard talks on LDS motherhood,
she worried because she felt she didn’t measure up or somehow wasn’t
going to be equal to the task. Secondly, she felt like the world
expected her to teach her children reading, writing, interior design,
Latin, calculus, and the Internet—all before the baby said something
terribly ordinary, like “goo goo.” Thirdly, she often felt people were
sometimes patronizing, almost always without meaning to be, because the
advice she got or even the compliments she received seemed to reflect
nothing of the mental investment, the spiritual and emotional exertion,
the long-night, long-day, stretched-to-the-limit demands that sometimes
are required in trying to be and wanting to be the mother God hopes she
will be.
But one thing, she said, keeps her going: “Through the thick and the thin of this, and through the occasional tears of it all, I know deep down inside I am doing God’s work.
I know that in my motherhood I am in an eternal partnership with Him. I
am deeply moved that God finds His ultimate purpose and meaning in
being a parent, even if some of His children make Him weep.
“It
is this realization,” she says, “that I try to recall on those
inevitably difficult days when all of this can be a bit overwhelming.
Maybe it is precisely our inability and anxiousness that urge us to
reach out to Him and enhance His ability to reach back to us. Maybe He
secretly hopes we will be anxious,” she said, “and will
plead for His help. Then, I believe, He can teach these children
directly, through us, but with no resistance offered. I like that idea,”
she concludes. “It gives me hope. If I can be right before my Father in
Heaven, perhaps His guidance to our children can be unimpeded. Maybe
then it can be His work and His glory in a very literal sense.”
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In
light of that kind of expression, it is clear that some of those Rhode
Island–sized shadows come not just from diapers and carpooling but from
at least a few sleepless nights spent searching the soul, seeking
earnestly for the capacity to raise these children to be what God wants
them to be. Moved by that kind of devotion and determination, may I say
to mothers collectively, in the name of the Lord, you are magnificent.
You are doing terrifically well. The very fact that you have been given
such a responsibility is everlasting evidence of the trust your Father
in Heaven has in you. He knows that your giving birth to a child does
not immediately propel you into the circle of the omniscient. If you and
your husband will strive to love God and live the gospel yourselves; if
you will plead for that guidance and comfort of the Holy Spirit
promised to the faithful; if you will go to the temple to both make and
claim the promises of the most sacred covenants a woman or man can make
in this world; if you will show others, including your children, the
same caring, compassionate, forgiving heart you want heaven to show you;
if you try your best to be the best parent you can be, you will have
done all that a human being can do and all that God expects you to do.
Sometimes
the decision of a child or a grandchild will break your heart.
Sometimes expectations won’t immediately be met. Every mother and father
worries about that. Even that beloved and wonderfully successful parent
President Joseph F. Smith pled, “Oh! God, let me not lose my own.”
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That is every parent’s cry, and in it is something of every
parent’s fear. But no one has failed who keeps trying and keeps praying.
You have every right to receive encouragement and to know in the end
your children will call your name blessed, just like those generations
of foremothers before you who hoped your same hopes and felt your same
fears.
Yours is the grand tradition of Eve, the mother of all the human family, the one who understood that she and Adam had to fall in order that “men [and women] might be”
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and that there would be joy. Yours is the grand tradition of
Sarah and Rebekah and Rachel, without whom there could not have been
those magnificent patriarchal promises to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob
which bless us all. Yours is the grand tradition of Lois and Eunice and
the mothers of the 2,000 stripling warriors. Yours is the grand
tradition of Mary, chosen and foreordained from before this world was,
to conceive, carry, and bear the Son of God Himself. We thank all of
you, including our own mothers, and tell you there is nothing more
important in this world than participating so directly in the work and
glory of God, in bringing to pass the mortality and earthly life of His
daughters and sons, so that immortality and eternal life can come in those celestial realms on high.
When
you have come to the Lord in meekness and lowliness of heart and, as
one mother said, “pounded on the doors of heaven to ask for, to plead
for, to demand guidance and wisdom and help for this wondrous task,”
that door is thrown open to provide you the influence and the help of
all eternity. Claim the promises of the Savior of the world. Ask for the
healing balm of the Atonement for whatever may be troubling you or your
children. Know that in faith things will be made right in spite of you,
or more correctly, because of you.
You can’t possibly do this alone, but you do
have help. The Master of Heaven and Earth is there to bless you—He who
resolutely goes after the lost sheep, sweeps thoroughly to find the lost
coin, waits everlastingly for the return of the prodigal son. Yours is
the work of salvation, and therefore you will be magnified, compensated,
made more than you are and better than you have ever been as you try to
make honest effort, however feeble you may sometimes feel that to be.
Remember, remember all the days of your motherhood: “Ye have not come thus far save it were by the word of Christ with unshaken faith in him, relying wholly upon the merits of him who is mighty to save.”
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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.”
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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.”
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And it will make your children whole as well.
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