Life is Like an Overgrown Currant Bush

Recently, my husband and I faced a serious disappointment. We had been working toward something for several years, and had gotten so close to fulfilling our dream. And then, after all of the hours and days and months and years of hard work, we got our answer. "No."

Really? No?! After everything we put into this, we get a no? It was really hard to face that gut-wrenching outcome. But that was our new reality. There was some anger and bitterness, and a few tears. And then my husband told me a story he had heard many years before of an overgrown currant bush, told by Hugh B. Brown back in 1973. His story, "The Currant Bush" from LDS.org, follows:

I was living up in Canada. I had purchased a farm. It was run-down. I went out one morning and saw a currant bush. It had grown up over six feet high. It was going all to wood. There were no blossoms and no currants. I was raised on a fruit farm in Salt Lake before we went to Canada, and I knew what ought to happen to that currant bush. So I got some pruning shears and went after it, and I cut it down, and pruned it, and clipped it back until there was nothing left but a little clump of stumps. It was just coming daylight, and I thought I saw on top of each of these little stumps what appeared to be a tear, and I thought the currant bush was crying. I was kind of simpleminded (and I haven’t entirely gotten over it), and I looked at it, and smiled, and said, “What are you crying about?” You know, I thought I heard that currant bush talk. And I thought I heard it say this: “How could you do this to me? I was making such wonderful growth. I was almost as big as the shade tree and the fruit tree that are inside the fence, and now you have cut me down. Every plant in the garden will look down on me, because I didn’t make what I should have made. How could you do this to me? I thought you were the gardener here.” That’s what I thought I heard the currant bush say, and I thought it so much that I answered. I said, “Look, little currant bush, I am the gardener here, and I know what I want you to be. I didn’t intend you to be a fruit tree or a shade tree. I want you to be a currant bush, and some day, little currant bush, when you are laden with fruit, you are going to say, ‘Thank you, Mr. Gardener, for loving me enough to cut me down, for caring enough about me to hurt me. Thank you, Mr. Gardener.’”

(You can read the whole story here.)

Elder Brown goes on to talk about a time many years later when he was serving in the Canadian Army. He was eligible for a promotion to General, and had been working toward that rank for 10 years. When he went in for the interview, he was told that he was completely qualified for the promotion but would not be receiving it due to his being a Mormon. In his following moments of bitterness, he remembered the conversation he'd had with his overgrown currant bush. Only this time, he was the bush that had grown so tall, and the Master, the gardener.

I have no doubt that there's something for us to learn from all of this. That lofty goal that we had and almost achieved must not have been part of His plan. And although it is so heartbreaking right now, I have faith that there will come a time when we will thank our Gardener for cutting us down.

Stepping Up

Lately I've been feeling like I'm in survival mode (again. See my previous experience here). Though I guess when you have three kids under two, the only mode is survival mode. We're lucky if any of us are dressed before 10 AM. I finally gave the baby a bath today after a week and a half of baby grime started to smell. I have however nearly completed a 1000 piece puzzle and watched far too many episodes of MASH. Survival at it's finest.

So here I was going along thinking life was hard. And then I was looking through my journal and I came across a talk I had written for church 10+ years ago about my paternal grandparents. They were absolutely incredible people. And if I thought my life was hard - wow. My grandmother was absolutely stunning. Just gorgeous. I'm sure she had scores of boys chasing after her, but she fell for my grandpa, who was pretty good-looking himself. They married young, and at age 16 my grandmother was diagnosed with severe rheumatoid arthritis. I can't imagine getting that diagnoses at all, let alone at such a young age. Despite her crippled hands, she faithfully raised six children (5 of whom were boys, and after my brief experience raising a boy, I have some major respect for her). When my grandpa was 52, he broke his neck in a tragic accident and was paralyzed from the waist down. I hadn't been born yet, and so I never knew my grandpa without his wheelchair. Even so, he was the strongest man I have ever known. I vividly remember his hands. As worn and crippled as my grandmother's were, his were large and strong. When my grandma struggled to open cans or brush her hair, grandpa's hands were there to fill in the gaps.

Grandpa loved to garden. They planted their rows of fruits and vegetables far apart so that grandpa's wheelchair could fit in between. I remember going out with him and he'd let me pick fresh strawberries and eat them right there. That was heaven to little four-year-old me. Even as a very little girl, I was awed and amazed by my grandparents. There was never anything they couldn't do together. Grandpa was particularly fond of a story told by Elder Boyd K. Packer, titled "Equally Yoked Together." It's a story of two small, skinny looking oxen defeating a pair of much larger and much stronger oxen in a pulling contest. While the large, strong animals lacked coordination, the smaller team had great teamwork and pulled together at the same time. My grandparents' legacy has become being equally yoked and pulling together. When I think of their lives and trials, it is clear that it would have been much simpler for them to just survive. To forget going to church or gardening or hosting big family get-togethers. But they didn't just survive. Despite their incredible challenges, they thrived. And they were able to do it because they were equally yoked.

Recently I attended a graduation where the speaker re-told a familiar story of a mule who falls into the well. The farmer, instead of trying to lift the mule out, decides to bury him inside of the well. The mule becomes determined to conquer his challenge by telling himself that with every shovel full of dirt that falls, he will shake it off and step up. Eventually, by moving the dirt underneath himself instead of letting it remain on top of him, he finds his way to freedom. What could have buried and killed him ended up liberating him instead, all because of his attitude and determination to keep going.

The story of the mule and my memories of my grandparents have made me determined to do more than just survive. Sure, life is hard. Sure I have three very young children that require a lot (ok, ALL) of my time and attention. But that doesn't mean I have to let the rest of my life fall to shambles. Life is what we make of it. It will never be perfect or easy or trial-free. I don't want to spend every single day waiting for it to end. Life is good and we have so much to LIVE for! Not just to survive for.

So my goal is no more survival mode. Living life to it's fullest every day. Laughing instead of crying, and finding joy in the journey.

How I Survive as a Stay at Home Mom

When we were going through infertility, I resented every single day that I had to go to work. Of course I was grateful that I had a job, but every time I walked out the door and drove to work I wished that I could stay home. Because going to work meant that I didn't have kids to stay home with. 

Now that I have children and I'm able to be home with them, I absolutely love it. It's wonderful and exciting and joyful. But it's also really hard. There are days that I feel stretched beyond what I thought possible (that's most days, actually). Some days I probably shed as many tears, if not more, than the babies. I often want to pull my hair out (particularly during meal times) and scream at the top of my lungs.

Every day is different. But now that the twins are getting a little older I feel like I've settled into a bit of a groove. They have their routine, and I have mine. One of my good friends refers to the things that get her through as her "Diet Coke." So the following are my Diet Cokes.

TV shows - It's not like I sit and spend all day in front of the television. And I have a personal rule that I don't turn on the TV/iPad etc. when the twins are awake. But when they nap, I almost always sit down on the couch with my breakfast/lunch and watch my shows. Some of my favorites are Psych, White Collar, Modern Family, Dancing with the Stars, Duck Dynasty, and Once Upon a TIme (I know.. I can't believe I actually like that show. It's so nerdy! But I love it). After hours of reading stories, rolling around on the ground with the babes, holding and feeding them, watching TV helps me unwind and relax a little.

Setting realistic goals - Right before the twins were born, Forrest and I were talking about his paternity leave (he took 6 weeks) and what he was going to do while he was off of work. He rattled off a lengthy list of all the things he planned to do each day. After Charlie and Caroline came we both quickly realized how unrealistic that was. Some days it just seems impossible to do anything but survive. I hated feeling like I didn't do a single thing all day long (even though I know that taking care of two babies is actually doing a lot), so I set a goal for myself to do one thing a day. Whether that one thing is laundry, cleaning the bathroom, taking out the trash, or vacuuming, I still try to stick to that. Some days I get a lot more than one thing done. Other days I struggle to even do that one thing. But setting a reasonable goal for myself everyday helps me to feel accomplished and boosts my self-esteem.

Getting dressed - I know this seems really silly. But there seriously are days (a lot more than I would like to admit) when I don't ever change out of my pajamas. And if I don't change out of my pajamas, I probably haven't brushed my hair or teeth either. Getting dressed and then going through my morning routine of doing my hair, brushing my teeth, and putting on makeup (even if I do all this quickly) makes me feel a lot better about myself. Then I don't go through a panic when someone unexpectedly knocks on the door, because I'm presentable. Much better that way.

Exercising - This one is really important for me, because exercise is something I really enjoy. It makes me feel like a normal person. It was really hard for a few months because Forrest would work so late that I couldn't exercise in the evenings, and I was too tired (I prefer not to think of it as lazy) to wake up and run before he left in the mornings. And it was far too cold to take the kids outside for a walk. But now I am able to go much more frequently. I get together with a few friends and go running on Wednesday evenings after the kids are in bed. I can't tell you how wonderful it is to get out of the house, have some girl time, and get some exercise.

Doing things - Like getting dressed, this seems silly too. But seriously. It is so easy to just stay home and do nothing, because it's far easier when the twins can nap in their beds, I don't have to pack up any food etc. But going out makes a huge difference in my sanity. Sometimes I take trips to the grocery store even if I don't really need anything just because I need to get out of the house. Now that it's warming up I try to take the kids on walks and outside to sit in the courtyard and play with the neighbor kids. Sometimes I even go out and sit in the sun when they're napping, just because I need to be outside! And going to family events, friends houses etc. is so helpful too. Even when it's not convenient, I try to make it work. I need to stay sane.

Serving others - Whether it's something simple like getting up early to make Forrest's lunch, or making dinner for a friend who just had a baby, forgetting myself and doing something for someone else is wonderful. It's easy to think that I'm too busy, that my hands are too full, that I don't have time to do service. But finding even small ways to serve makes a big difference in my happiness. 

Blogging - Seriously, it helps me so much just to be able to write down my thoughts and emotions. It helps me sort through what I'm feeling, and it makes me feel good when others enjoy reading what I write. 

I'm sure as time passes I will find other things to add to my list. But for now, these things really help me love my new job as a full time mom! I love the term "play at home mom." That's what I feel like I do, I play at home with my beautiful children. And it's wonderful!