Is it cheating if I borrow something I wrote earlier this week?
I hope not, because that is what you're getting today.
Especially since the crying in the crib just resumed and it is confirmed for a third time that Kevin is not going to take a nap this afternoon, which probably means her mom doesn't get one either. Side note: yes, I still "sleep when the baby is sleeping." Don't judge. I can't function without a power nap in the afternoon. So if you are one of these moms who also needs a little extra snooze during the middle of the day, please don't beat yourself up about it. We all need recharging. If you are one of those moms who "can't nap" then please don't take the joy out of napping for the rest of us.
As many of you know, my little brother is serving a mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. He is currently in the Provo Missionary Training Center (MTC), learning the Korean language and preparing to teach the Gospel of Jesus Christ to the people of South Korea. As of yesterday, he has been there for two weeks.
Now, let me tell you something.
The MTC is hard.
If you've ever had to live there, you know this. The MTC is a great place, a wonderful atmosphere, and can give you just the right start for your mission, but it will probably also be the hardest 3-6-9-12 weeks of your life (luckily, very very few have to stay for 12 weeks since the missionary age change). I only lived there for three weeks and my stay was about as idyllic as they come--it was early fall so it wasn't sweltering hot but we could still go outside for gym time every day. I had a wonderful group of missionaries as my district (the group you are assigned to eat and study with, usually missionaries headed to similar missions as you). We played hard and we worked hard and we got in trouble for laughing too loud more than once. It wasn't all roses, and we had our moments, but my MTC experience was a very positive one. My little brother hasn't had it quite so easy.
This week as I was writing to Elder Burningham I was reminded of an experience I had far later in my mission, and because I am lazy and don't want to relate the whole thing over again, I am simply going to cut and paste part of that letter here. Then we will get to how this relates to you and me right now.
"At one point on my mission I was serving in a little town called Copperas Cove with a companion I mostly got along with (she had her moments and drove me nuts at times, but she felt the same about me, I'm sure). We split the town with a set of Elders. Our District Leader, Elder Taulanga, was a good friend of mine. We'd served around each other before and he had a sister on a mission so he was especially kind to the sisters. His companion, Elder D, was a piece of work. Elder D was really hard to get along with, awkward, and disobedient at times.
"During our mission interviews that transfer President Thurston asked me how this particular Elder was doing. I was surprised because I didn't think that Elder was any of my business or responsibility. What President Thurston said to me during that interview changed the rest of my mission. He told me that he'd wanted Elder D to serve around me because I "elevated" the missionaries in my zones and districts. I don't share this to brag, but to share with you the lesson that his comment taught me, because after that conversation I was a little more aware of my actions towards my fellow missionaries. To "elevate" was not to preach at or push along, but to motivate them to WANT to serve better and work harder. You never know who you are going to elevate on your mission, so be kind to everybody you meet. The MTC is a unique experience because instead of serving Korean people, your responsibility is to serve the Elders and Sisters in your district and zone. The best way to elevate is to be a good example.
"Did you know that when Scott was in the MTC he had to come home for a while to have knee surgery? He was in the MTC for 10 and a half weeks total, and his first experience was very different than his second. His first district didn't really want to be there. They goofed off, complained, and didn't put a lot of effort into learning the language. His companion was the worst of the lot. Scott was picky about keeping the rules, but the other missionaries knew he wanted to be there, so it really shocked all of them when he had to go home. It changed their MTC stay. His absence elevated them because they thought, "the one person who actually wants to be here doesn't get to be." When he got back to the MTC a few months after his surgery, missionaries would come up to him and say, "Oh! You're Elder Fowler!" like he was famous or something. Then one of the missionaries took him to his old classroom and told him, "we were instructed to keep this sign up until you got back and then to give it to you." This was over two months later, which in the MTC is a long time! The missionary handed him the sign, which said, "What Would Fowler Do?" His first district had put the sign up to remind them to work hard like Elder Fowler. He made a difference, even after he was gone."
Since I wrote this letter on Monday, I have been thinking about the word "elevate" and how it relates to me and my life right now. Yesterday I read a chapter in a book (Here is Where--I finally got to check it out again so I could finish reading it) about the inventor of the elevators, Elisha Otis. Did you know that he didn't patent his design for an automatic safety elevator for seven years? That is a ridiculously long time in the world of innovation. The author, Andrew Carroll, briefly touched on his assumption that Otis himself didn't realize "how drastically his work would reshape the global landscape." The skylines of the world's greatest cities, and even many of the smallest ones, would be different without the elevator. There really isn't a good way to measure just how far Otis' influence is felt in our day.If there is one thing Elisha Otis succeeded at during his lifetime, it was elevating people to new heights. Quite literally.
This week there has been snow in some of the highest elevations in Utah, where we currently live. Every year when fall rolls around, we take as much advantage as we can because it is such a fleeting season. As the leaves fall to the ground, our gaze turns up to the mountains as we watch the white creep further and further down into the valleys until children are being dressed by their mothers as Christmas Carolers on Halloween because it is simply too cold to wear any other sort of costume.
The elevation in Utah is much higher than other parts of the world--though it cannot claim to be the absolute highest. Still, when you move from this elevation to a much lower one, there is a difference, and it is a noticeable one. When I left on my mission, I could barely run half a mile without wanting to die because I couldn't breathe well. When I got to Texas, however, I found I could run faster and longer because I didn't have to fight as hard for oxygen. In the lower elevation, all of the hard work I had put in (granted, not much, since I am not much of an exerciser/runner, but work with me here) showed greater results than I ever thought capable.
Sometimes I feel like right now I am working in a "higher elevation" climate of life. The littlest things take so much effort, more than I feel should be necessary. I often look around me and wonder why others seem to be able to do so much more, but then I realize, I am living my life, not theirs. I have my challenges, not theirs. Right now, even though I am *just* a stay at home mom of *only* one child without very many responsibilities on the side, I struggle more often than not. I don't struggle because I am not content with what I am doing. I struggle because being a mother is hard. I struggle because, although I am working hard to elevate myself, there is only so much I can do. I struggle because have you ever tried to elevate a toddler into a higher way of thinking and living? Yeah, it's like trying to run a marathon during a tsunami.
Regardless, I know that someday all of this work that I am putting in--teaching her how to share, how to work, how to help, how to be resilient, how to accept the answer "no" (still working on that one), how to recognize Heavenly Father and Jesus, how to show love to those who need it most--will be evident when she gets older and we experience a lower climate. There, she will be able to shine brighter, last longer, and work harder.
And I will be able to see that these early days of her life have elevated both of us into more than we ever thought we could be.
No comments:
Post a Comment