Wrestling

My life, for the past eight years (since I quit my job to stay at home with my children) has consisted of many mundane, monotonous tasks - more than I ever remember in my previous life. I can't say that I felt prepared at all for this shift and sometimes I am jealous of my previous life where I had more freedoms, more recognition, and more money. Basically, my previous life allowed for more selfishness. And sometimes I yearn to have some of those things back. But I've heard that you can't have your cake and eat it too. So if I'm choosing between cakes, I choose the cake I have now because its icing is prettier and it tastes better, even if it's a little tougher to chew sometimes.

Since Meg has come into our lives, one of the more mundane tasks of each day consists of changing her clothes and her diapers. I like to dress her in clean clothes, I don't mind the poop and I'm even okay with being urinated on once in a while. It's the wrestling match I dread. In all of her ten months on this earth, I've not known her to ever allow a clothing or diaper change to take place without an all-out physical effort on my part. I've been known to let her sit in a poopy diaper while eating lunch just so I can put off the struggle a while longer. Other times, however, I feel up to the challenge only to find the limits of my self-control tested as I fight to get her to bend her knees just so I can get that last bit of poop out of the final "crevice", if you know what I mean. I feel so victorious as I stand and tower over her, dirty diaper in hand. She's not so quick to acknowledge my victory. She's completely indifferent to the situation as she inches past me to quickly claim those crumbs on the kitchen floor before they get swept up. I try to hold my head high as I dump the diaper in the pail just outside the garage door. I purse my lips, clasp my raised hands together and let out a little celebratory cheer for myself. Recognition received.

On a different note, I picked up the Ensign last week and loved reading Elder Neal A. Maxwell's conference address from a few years ago regarding consecration. He talked about us allowing our wills to become the Father's will. He said, "So many of us cling tenaciously to a particular 'part,'...whatever else we may have already given, the last portion is the hardest to yield." For the past several days I have wondered what that "last portion" is for me. I think it changes as we become more refined. So I wonder what that last portion is for me today in my journey.

Then I thought about wrestling. I wrestle with Meg every day and it's just not an option to walk away from those matches. I wrestle with my older girls in the battle of wills. I wrestle with myself frequently and sometimes give into the natural man more than my spirit wants to, but I give in anyway. I thought about how Enos wrestled before God. Then I wondered how many of my wrestlings I take before God. I wondered why I don't wrestle before God more often, allowing Him to help me. Allowing Him to increase my spiritual capabilities, which will help me overcome my natural tendencies. I bet if I wrestle before God as I try to identify and give that last portion, He'll help me do it.

Then I wondered how many wrestling matches I've started and walked away from, not really wanting to endure the pain, training or discomfort long enough to witness the outcome. Then I realized that when I wrestle righteously before God, as long as I endure and finish the match, He will let me win. Not in a freebie kind of way. In a deserved kind of way. In a more bless-ed kind of way. If I trust Him enough to find and give that "last portion", then one day I can tower over those weaknesses that I cling to today and stand victorious. Recognition not required. Not required for me anyway.