Anthropologie and the Subject of Prayer
Summer is on its last breath and my children are off once again to carve their niches via academic pursuits with its own set of social demands and premiums. Ahhh...college life! Just a very small dot of time on life's uninterrupted timeline. I find it interesting that I still feel like that person in my twenties except decades have passed and I've accumulated many life experiences, wrinkles and lately, some aches and pains. I can see where my children are and I can clearly identify what challenges they need to anticipate, what they need to do to avoid them. Even more jarring is that I can see opportunities that they can't see and life treasures within their grasp that they sometimes can't see simply because youth makes them invisible. Could this be the wisdom of age?
I find myself obsessing over what to do and more importantly, what to give them. I seem to be frequenting shops that cater to their indulgence: baby and children's stores for my grandchildren, high-end stores like Anthropologie or Nordstroms, the Mac store (the computer Mac---not the make-up...although I go there too....) and little boutiques here and there...always looking for things to indulge them with. And I do. I want to.
In participating in the above exercises, I've rediscovered something that I've always known but didn't consider because of my exuberance in wanting to give. First, the more they get used to being showered with gifts and things, the more those things lose their value. It's a natural consequence. It's basic economics. You have more 'stuff' and they keep on coming regardless of what you do and all that 'stuff' becomes pointless and cheap. Hence, I find myself needing to hold back. It's imperative to do so because indulgence's end result is simply gratitude-made-obsolete and expectations slowly brewed into an over-seasoned soup of entitlement. And for me, separation from my children seems to unlock that Pandora's box of exuberant giving and gifting because I simply want them to NOT forget me. I simply want to remind them that I am still here. And because I can't be with them to love them, protect them and care for them, I have this urgent need to give them things so they will remember that I love them. It's just a human reaction. Or a mother's.
I've also discovered, with some measure of sorrow, that I cannot dispense advice , warning or insight to my children willy-nilly. It just pesters them no end. That's when the rolling eyes, awkward silences, annoyed glances or even vexations arise. It can be a relationship breaker. And it turns me, a loving mother, into a villainous, over-bearing, hovering entity. Not human. But an entity. They want to make their own mistakes. They want to discover hardship by themselves. And they don't want to be told that there's a better way or that you see in them more strength, more talent or more sense. They want those things to be invisible because if you can see their strengths, then they know you expect something from them they may be unprepared to see or deliver. So really, a mother's awesome task for the most part is to watch. Just watch. And pray.
On another note, though I've always known all these in principle, it's a different thing to know principles experientially. And it goes both ways. I understand both sides because I also have parents and I have been where they are now. And this understanding causes me also some measure of sorrow and regret because as children, we do not always think of our parents nor of their counsels nor of their generosity. But as loving parents, our children are constantly in our thoughts and hearts. In time our children become parents and the circle completes. Until then, we cannot see the broad strokes of the canvas.
On another level, I have a more profound appreciation and understanding of the power and imperative necessity of prayer---not just prayer but the relationship that ensues when we pray and look to God unceasingly. Wisdom and knowledge come only after we seek them and often as a result of our own experiences...mostly the ones that cause us to stumble or lose orientation. Because our Heavenly Father is a perfect being, He knows how to perfectly balance agency and the grace that bestows us all things we stand in need of regardless of what we do. He blesses us continually despite our lack of gratitude and if we but ponder these blessings more often, it would cause us great awe-- yes, even an awareness of our own 'nothingness'. An overwhelming surge of gratitude that threatens to even drown us ensues. Consider this:
And again I say unto you as I have said before, that as ye have come to the knowledge of the glory of God, or if ye have known of his goodness and have tasted of his love, and have received a remission of your sins, which causeth such exceedingly great joy in your souls, even so I would that ye should remember, and always retain in remembrance, the greatness of God, and your own nothingness, and his goodness and long-suffering towards you, unworthy creatures, and humble yourselves even in the depths of humility, calling on the name of the Lord daily, and standing steadfastly in the faith of that which is to come, which was spoken by the mouth of the angel.
I find myself obsessing over what to do and more importantly, what to give them. I seem to be frequenting shops that cater to their indulgence: baby and children's stores for my grandchildren, high-end stores like Anthropologie or Nordstroms, the Mac store (the computer Mac---not the make-up...although I go there too....) and little boutiques here and there...always looking for things to indulge them with. And I do. I want to.
In participating in the above exercises, I've rediscovered something that I've always known but didn't consider because of my exuberance in wanting to give. First, the more they get used to being showered with gifts and things, the more those things lose their value. It's a natural consequence. It's basic economics. You have more 'stuff' and they keep on coming regardless of what you do and all that 'stuff' becomes pointless and cheap. Hence, I find myself needing to hold back. It's imperative to do so because indulgence's end result is simply gratitude-made-obsolete and expectations slowly brewed into an over-seasoned soup of entitlement. And for me, separation from my children seems to unlock that Pandora's box of exuberant giving and gifting because I simply want them to NOT forget me. I simply want to remind them that I am still here. And because I can't be with them to love them, protect them and care for them, I have this urgent need to give them things so they will remember that I love them. It's just a human reaction. Or a mother's.
I've also discovered, with some measure of sorrow, that I cannot dispense advice , warning or insight to my children willy-nilly. It just pesters them no end. That's when the rolling eyes, awkward silences, annoyed glances or even vexations arise. It can be a relationship breaker. And it turns me, a loving mother, into a villainous, over-bearing, hovering entity. Not human. But an entity. They want to make their own mistakes. They want to discover hardship by themselves. And they don't want to be told that there's a better way or that you see in them more strength, more talent or more sense. They want those things to be invisible because if you can see their strengths, then they know you expect something from them they may be unprepared to see or deliver. So really, a mother's awesome task for the most part is to watch. Just watch. And pray.
On another note, though I've always known all these in principle, it's a different thing to know principles experientially. And it goes both ways. I understand both sides because I also have parents and I have been where they are now. And this understanding causes me also some measure of sorrow and regret because as children, we do not always think of our parents nor of their counsels nor of their generosity. But as loving parents, our children are constantly in our thoughts and hearts. In time our children become parents and the circle completes. Until then, we cannot see the broad strokes of the canvas.
On another level, I have a more profound appreciation and understanding of the power and imperative necessity of prayer---not just prayer but the relationship that ensues when we pray and look to God unceasingly. Wisdom and knowledge come only after we seek them and often as a result of our own experiences...mostly the ones that cause us to stumble or lose orientation. Because our Heavenly Father is a perfect being, He knows how to perfectly balance agency and the grace that bestows us all things we stand in need of regardless of what we do. He blesses us continually despite our lack of gratitude and if we but ponder these blessings more often, it would cause us great awe-- yes, even an awareness of our own 'nothingness'. An overwhelming surge of gratitude that threatens to even drown us ensues. Consider this:
And again I say unto you as I have said before, that as ye have come to the knowledge of the glory of God, or if ye have known of his goodness and have tasted of his love, and have received a remission of your sins, which causeth such exceedingly great joy in your souls, even so I would that ye should remember, and always retain in remembrance, the greatness of God, and your own nothingness, and his goodness and long-suffering towards you, unworthy creatures, and humble yourselves even in the depths of humility, calling on the name of the Lord daily, and standing steadfastly in the faith of that which is to come, which was spoken by the mouth of the angel.
And behold, I say unto you that if ye do this ye shall always rejoice, and be filled with the love of God, and always retain a remission of your sins; and ye shall grow in the knowledge of the glory of him that created you, or in the knowledge of that which is just and true. (Mosiah 4:11-12)
When we pray to our Heavenly Father he rejoices. He loves it when we talk to him, share with him our thoughts even our fears. He loves it when we express gratitude. His kindness defies description when we confess our sins to him. And he longs to bless us with those blessings that he has reserved for us---the ones that he holds back--- until we ask for them. As we pray more often, we find favour in his sight and he quickly blesses us more abundantly such that we cannot possibly be grateful enough. And when we stumble or fall and seek him, he immediately lifts us according to our faith. There is no condemnation when we seek him after a long absence...only rejoicing that we, like the prodigal son, have come back. Such is merely this mortal mother's understanding of a perfect father's love--that of a Heavenly Father who longs to bless us and to keep us in his loving arms.
Now, if we look around us, there are an endless number of gifts--yes, even indulgences that God has bestowed us. That the sun gives us its warmth and life-giving rays is an obvious gift and remembrance that there is a higher being who loves us. Everything on this earth are to the typifying of the Saviour. We are endowed with endless possibilities through priesthood ordinances both inside and outside the temple. Even the commandments and principles we learn are reminders of our Heavenly Father's love for us. If we but open our eyes and hearts, He is everywhere. He gives because he wants us to remember Him.
So, as I separate from my children mostly in a geographical sense, I cannot just pick up the phone every second that I long to hear their voices. I have to wait until they call or until I can find a viable reason to call. And though I feel that I need to warn them, I have to sometimes allow them to fail. Though it will break my heart to pieces when they hurt or stumble, I must hold my heart together in my hands and allow them to discover for themselves the strength that lies within them. I also need to understand that I cannot just gift them my insights or wisdom drawn from my own stumblings unless they ask. Life already is packaged with enough challenges and when we seek to minimize these challenges by desiring and seeking wisdom from our parents, both are edified and joy springs because our spirits are enhanced from the interchange of knowledge. There is safety and security when we heed and look for warnings and cues.
As far as Anthropologie...well, I just ordered some shoes again. And some cute headbands. But I am going to keep them until someone asks to have them. Then I will quickly and happily put them in a nice bag and let them have it.
Now, if we look around us, there are an endless number of gifts--yes, even indulgences that God has bestowed us. That the sun gives us its warmth and life-giving rays is an obvious gift and remembrance that there is a higher being who loves us. Everything on this earth are to the typifying of the Saviour. We are endowed with endless possibilities through priesthood ordinances both inside and outside the temple. Even the commandments and principles we learn are reminders of our Heavenly Father's love for us. If we but open our eyes and hearts, He is everywhere. He gives because he wants us to remember Him.
So, as I separate from my children mostly in a geographical sense, I cannot just pick up the phone every second that I long to hear their voices. I have to wait until they call or until I can find a viable reason to call. And though I feel that I need to warn them, I have to sometimes allow them to fail. Though it will break my heart to pieces when they hurt or stumble, I must hold my heart together in my hands and allow them to discover for themselves the strength that lies within them. I also need to understand that I cannot just gift them my insights or wisdom drawn from my own stumblings unless they ask. Life already is packaged with enough challenges and when we seek to minimize these challenges by desiring and seeking wisdom from our parents, both are edified and joy springs because our spirits are enhanced from the interchange of knowledge. There is safety and security when we heed and look for warnings and cues.
As far as Anthropologie...well, I just ordered some shoes again. And some cute headbands. But I am going to keep them until someone asks to have them. Then I will quickly and happily put them in a nice bag and let them have it.
