Faith of a Child

There are some moments (ok, many moments) throughout mommyhood that are very humbling. As a mother, you often wonder how severely you're messing your kids up and whether or not you're having any positive influence on your kids. Kids scream, yell, hit, and generally disobey quite frequently; I yell, scream, and often am not as patient as I should be. As LDS mothers, I think we add an extra degree of "mom guilt" onto ourselves - wondering if we've taught our kids the gospel, and if we're doing what we need to to lay the foundations of their testimonies. When the kids are throwing cars while we're reading scriptures, taking blankies from each other during family prayer, and jumping off the couch during Family Home Evening, I often find myself wondering what I'm doing wrong. Yes, my kids are little. But if I were a really righteous mother, they'd be reverent, right?!?

So, with all the doubt, it's easy to beat yourself down. And then, something will happen to make you think, "Hey, maybe I'm not doing that bad after all." A couple of days ago around bedtime, Connor was "backed up". He had tried the potty a couple of times, and was in obvious distress because he was hurting, needed to poop, and couldn't. I tried everything I could think of, without success. He climbed into the bathtub crying, and I felt bad that I couldn't do more to ease my child's suffering. A few moments later, I looked over to see him with his eyes closed, head bowed, arms folded, and lips moving. I about started crying. When he was done, he told me, "Mom, I just said a prayer that Heavenly Father would help me to poop and feel better." We finished the bath, put a heating pad on his tummy during stories and prayers, and a little bit later he was finally able to go. I've caught him saying prayers a few other times on his own, usually about "not being scared of the dark when we shut the door at night."

He may not sit still sometimes, may get distracted. But he is getting something. At least he seems to be learning that he has a Heavenly Father who loves him very much and will help him when he's scared or hurting. I'm grateful for these little mercies- little moments that seem like my Heavenly Father is telling me, "Just keep going. You're doing just fine."

It makes all the couch jumping and struggles to say prayers worth it.