It's summer around here. No school. . . For my kids anyway. If I'm being completely honest, I was terrified for this summer to come. I was not excited for my kids to be home. They were already fighting and they were only spending a couple hours together each day. What was it going to be like when they were together ALL DAY?! Not to mention, I have so much work right now including lots of reading and writing. Have you ever tried to write an essay or read while world war three happens over the railing behind you? Not easy. And as long as I'm complaining, I have one quickly nearing teenage years and even more quickly developing a teenage attitude. How was I going to deal with that mouth all day everyday? I was already feeling like a failure a couple hours a day when they were around. Summer was bound to highlight every one of my motherly imperfections.
Last week, about 14 days in to this dreaded vacation, a miracle happened. We were finishing up breakfast. There was milk splattered and cereal smashed on the floor. I looked at the three of them and my heart swelled with love for each of them. A couple days later, they reluctantly, with a bit of grumbling, worked through their list of jobs before pulling out the electronics. I felt a surge of gratitude to be able to spend these moments with them and teach them and love them. I noticed little moments like these here and there. I wondered in awe what was different because certainly their attitudes weren't. I thought that someone must be praying for me. Maybe my mom, and I made a mental note to ask her next time I talked to her.
The other day, in the middle of an argument between someone, I took a deep breath, uttered a quick prayer for wisdom to deal with the situation in a Christlike way. A memory washed over me quick and powerful and filled me with emotion. No one had been praying for me. It was the priesthood blessing. I had asked Aaron to give me a blessing after a mini panic attack the night before the last day of school. I knew I needed extra help surviving the summer. I didn't just want to survive. I wanted to enjoy it and make beautiful memories. In the blessing, he said a lot of wonderful and hope-filled words. I remember him speaking of eternal perspective and enjoying the limited summers we have with them in our home.
As I remembered that blessing, I recognized immediately where the blessings were coming from. It brought a new sense of gratitude for a worthy husband and the priesthood power he holds. My testimony of priesthood blessings has grown. There is great power in these blessings given to us by our Heavenly Father through His worthy servants. I don't ask for them enough, and this experience will help me to remember to ask for them more. I need that power promised from our Heavenly Father. Sometimes motherhood can be such a lonely job, but it doesn't need to be.
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