Imperfections

So I started this blog because lately I have been realizing just how imperfect I am.  I often get overwhelmed with everything I don't do right, or don't do well enough, or do just plain wrong.  Especially in the area of being a mom.  Lately, I mostly have felt that I just can't do it all, and I'm just not enough.  And I often want to complain, or vent, or just plain talk about how I feel - but I don't really read or hear anyone expressing that they feel like I do.  I really want to think that I'm not the only one who just can't get their act together and get on top of life - but maybe no one else wants to be the complainer either, or no one wants everyone else to know exactly how they just don't make the cut.  But sometimes I think we'd all feel a lot better if we knew we weren't alone in our imperfections.

I read a blog post somewhere about wearing signs, and how we might treat people differently if we knew what was really going on in their lives.  I recently had an experience where I was pretty judgmental.  I work as the nursery coordinator in my ward at church, making sure that all of the nurseries have enough teachers and supplies, as well as singing songs with the kids in each nursery.  There was a teacher who would frequently not show up to church and wouldn't get a substitute, so I would rush around last minute trying to find someone to fill in for her.  I thought to myself something like this, "Dang it, why can't you just be responsible and call a substitute.  Or at least call me and let me know you aren't going to be there?" And that thought was accompanied by a heavy dose of judgement and criticism.  And of course pride, because I, of course, was better than that and would never just skip out on a responsibility like that.  But one week she called and told me she had a migraine and wouldn't make it, and she was trying to find a substitute.  And a week or two later I found out that she has very recently gone through a divorce, and was raising her 3 kids by herself.  I realized, No wonder she's not being responsible, and not getting a substitute.  She's overwhelmed with life, getting migraine headaches, and probably going through a lot of hurt and heartache.  I thought, that I too, would drop the ball on quite a few of my own responsibilities if I was going through what she was going through. (And let's face it, I drop the ball on my own fair share of things and I'm not going through such difficulties.) I wished that she had been wearing a sign so that I might have known before hand what she was going through, and I could have been more loving in my thoughts towards her.

Another moment recently I looked at some of these little children that I get to work with in nursery and I wished that I knew each of them individually.  Some of them have a difficult time coming to nursery, and I wish I knew them well enough to know what would comfort them and make them feel better.  I wish that each of them were wearing signs about who they really were.

Unfortunately in life, we don'g get to go around wearing signs about what's really going on in our life and who we really are.  I'm sure some people like it that way, keeping their imperfections to themselves.  But I like to talk about mine, in the hopes that someone out there will make me feel like I'm not alone - but also because there are lots of people out there better than me - people who might be able to help me through my imperfections.  So I think I will start this blog, and share it.  This blog is my sign, everything out there for everyone to see.  But I share it not just so that someone can help me, but in hopes that someone else might be feeling the way I do, and that in reading about all of my imperfections, they can feel better in knowing that they aren't alone in theirs.

In the last several weeks I have had many moments of inspiration like the ones I shared above - moments where I have realized just how much God loves each one of us.  Moments where I watched a young man passing the sacrament in church.  This boy, on the outside, looks like just another boy his age.  But if you watch closely enough, you can see that he has a learning disability of some kind.  And just walking up and down the aisles, passing out bread and water, is difficult for him.  He needed constant reminders from the other boys about where to go, what to do, where to stand when he's done.  As I watched the other young men patiently helping this boy, directing him week after week on what to do, I was touched at their love and patience for him.  And I hoped they were really feeling that love and patience for him in their hearts, because when I see this boy, I think of how he is someone's baby boy, another mother's child, and he is the world to her, just like my children are to me.  And he is our Father in Heaven's child, and God sees him, with all of his imperfections, and loves him more than we can imagine.

I had another moment yesterday when I attended church in another language so I could watch a friend's baby get blessed.  I was filled with gratitude to be there, where I couldn't understand what was being said, because I knew my Heavenly Father loved each of these people as much as he loved me.  I was so grateful that they could go to church in their own language, even though they lived in a country where their language was not the one primarily spoken..  I was also grateful that they had a translator and headphones, so I could hear the words spoken in my own language.  I was able to attend two different sacrament services yesterday, to see two different babies be blessed. Since it was the first Sunday of the month, church members get to go up and speak, and share their testimonies and feelings if they choose to.  And with several babies being blessed, more than one person spoke about how precious these little babies are, both to us and Heavenly Father.  And I had another small moment where I realized that each of us, every single person on earth, was once a small baby, so precious to their parents and others around them.  And still, no matter what we say or do, no matter what someone else looks like or the choices they make, each and every person on earth is still that small, precious little baby, only bigger.  Everyone is still a child of God, and each and every person is as precious to him as a little tiny baby is to us. If you have children you know that each of your own children will always be that precious baby to you, no matter what they grow into and become.

I was talking to my husband, James, last night about not knowing why I was having these small moments - because each of them has made me think about how much God loves every one of us.  And this morning, writing this, I've come up with two reasons.  One is that we may not have signs around our necks about what each of us is going through, but no matter what, everyone is going through something.  It may be something small, like me, going through nothing more than daily life struggles.  It may be something bigger like the woman going through a painful divorce.  But everyone has something, and we probably don't know what it is.  But God sees the "signs" that we can't see.  He knows each and every person intimately, and he loves them.  And what I've come to realize, and I hope I can remember more regularly, is that I want to love each person as God does, and not judge them for their imperfections that I can see (or think that I see.)

The second reason I think I might have been having these moments is for myself.  This post may be all happy, full of spiritual insight, but most of the time, I feel like I just can't do it. And what I will probably write about a lot is what I just plain suck at.  So perhaps what I need to realize is that I, too, am a child of God, and He loves me more than I can imagine.  With all of my faults and imperfections, I am so infinitely precious to Him.  And just as I should and want to love every other person around me as God does, I should also love myself as He does - despite All My Imperfection.