In The Mean Time

One piece of advice I often received while waiting to become a mother was to make the most of the freedom and extra time that I wouldn't get back for many years after we had children.  If you know me, you know I always bristled at this comment because as Tom Petty said, "The way-ya-ting is the hardest part."  Didn't they understand it is difficult to see the forest through the trees when you are in the thick of it?  It came across as just one more insensitive comment from those who "didn't get it."  Tonight, though, I had a conversation with a friend I go to church with after which I feel I finally "got it." 

I'll start off with a little background on my friend whom I will call, Dee.  Dee and I both have "callings" (volunteer positions) serving the young women of our congregation in Sunday School classes and midweek youth activities.  Dee and I are both the same age with only 10 days separating our date of births.  Dee and I are also both infertle myrtles in a Mormon sea of bellies swollen with life and stereotypically large families.  She is not yet a mother, however, so she really "gets it." Tonight, during our discussion on how much such lot in life sucks, she reminded me about one of the talks given by a member of the general authority of our church.  Because she "gets it", though, her telling me this story really made me think.  Here is the story:

Don't worry, it isn't all churchy... instead something I think we can all relate to.

“One woman wanted more than anything else to marry... and be a mother and a wife. She had dreamed about this all her life, and oh, what a wonderful mother and loving wife she would be. Her home would be filled with loving-kindness. Never a bitter word would be spoken. The food would never burn. And her children, instead of hanging out with their friends, would prefer to spend their evenings and weekends with Mom and Dad.

“This was her golden ticket. It was the one thing upon which she felt her whole existence depended. It was the one thing in all the world for which she most desperately yearned.

“But it never happened. And, as the years went on, she became more and more withdrawn, bitter, and even angry. She could not understand why God would not grant her this righteous desire."

“She worked as an elementary school teacher, and being around children all day long simply reminded her that her golden ticket had never appeared. As the years passed she became more disappointed and withdrawn. People didn’t like being around her and avoided her whenever they could. She even took her frustration out on the children at school.

Holy graham crackers, Batman! I want to give this woman a hug. I am just like her... bitter, withdrawn and angry.

“The tragedy of this story is that this dear woman, in all her disappointment about her golden ticket, failed to notice the blessings she did have. She did not have children in her home, but she was surrounded by them in her classroom. She was not blessed with a family, but the Lord had given her an opportunity few people have—the chance to influence for good the lives of hundreds of children and families as a teacher.

“The lesson here is that if we spend our days waiting for fabulous roses, we could miss the beauty and wonder of the tiny forget-me-nots that are all around us.”  

~ Dieter F. Uchtdorf

Having Dee remind me of this story made me realize that there is actually great wisdom in those that have encouraged me to make the most of my time.  I don't want to waste all of my time and effort grieving in the mean time waiting for my prayers to be answered for more children.  My "in the mean time" may mean that never in this mortal existance will I experience a full term pregnancy or the joy of bringing life into this world.  That doesn't mean that my "in the mean time" will be any less productive or legacy producing than any one else.  I've just got to recognize the damn forest in the trees so that I don't waste my opportunities while I still have them.  I want to make the most of my "in the mean time."

"Sending you forget me nots
To help me to remember
Baby please forget me not
I want you to remember"

~ Patrice Rushen, Forget Me Nots