What if your life was...
perfect?
Exactly as it is.
Right now.
Stay with me!
It is so easy and natural to see the problems with our lives. To see what could, maybe even "should" be better.
And you? You’re trying your best—and still feeling like it’s not enough.
When you look in the mirror maybe you see someone who should be skinnier, happier, and getting a whole lot more done. Sometimes, on some days, you even look at her and think, 'I'm failing'.
And when all of that is what we see all the time, OF COURSE our lives aren't perfect. They are far from it.
Overwhelm, frustration, and fear are old friends, and our moments of joy and satisfaction are robbed by thoughts like 'what did I sign myself up for?!' 'I have to get this done...' 'I should've done that...' 'It's not working.'
We stay up late, scrolling our phones, dreading the next day where we have to do it all over again.
I'm hoping some of this is relatable for you. I know many women who also choose to see the good moments, to have hope, to enjoy aspects of their lives as well. But if you were to ask even those women if their lives are perfect?
Many would just laugh in surprise.
There is a quote I heard in the past few months that has really stuck with me:
"It's working for you or it's working on you. Either way, it's working."
What if the good moments were simply good moments, and the bad moments were growth moments? Times to learn, become more resilient, gain wisdom, earn confidence to know how to handle it next time, or to help someone else?
What if those sleepless nights help you be able to empathize with another mom down the road a bit? What if it leads you to find solutions that can help many other families someday?
What if all the "bad things" happening are shaping you into the person you were always supposed to become?
perfect?
Exactly as it is.
Right now.
Stay with me!
It is so easy and natural to see the problems with our lives. To see what could, maybe even "should" be better.
- A baby who doesn't sleep through the night.
- Breastfeeding is challenging, painful, frustrating.
- Toddler who doesn't understand mommy is trying to recover from birth.
- Husband who is tired and grumpy and passive aggressive.
- Well-meaning neighbor who gives advice that just stings.
And you? You’re trying your best—and still feeling like it’s not enough.
When you look in the mirror maybe you see someone who should be skinnier, happier, and getting a whole lot more done. Sometimes, on some days, you even look at her and think, 'I'm failing'.
- We see a house that's a "disaster".
- We see a bank account that looks too small.
- We see not enough hours in the day...
- and not enough energy for the hours we have.
And when all of that is what we see all the time, OF COURSE our lives aren't perfect. They are far from it.
Overwhelm, frustration, and fear are old friends, and our moments of joy and satisfaction are robbed by thoughts like 'what did I sign myself up for?!' 'I have to get this done...' 'I should've done that...' 'It's not working.'
We stay up late, scrolling our phones, dreading the next day where we have to do it all over again.
I'm hoping some of this is relatable for you. I know many women who also choose to see the good moments, to have hope, to enjoy aspects of their lives as well. But if you were to ask even those women if their lives are perfect?
Many would just laugh in surprise.
There is a quote I heard in the past few months that has really stuck with me:
"It's working for you or it's working on you. Either way, it's working."
What if the good moments were simply good moments, and the bad moments were growth moments? Times to learn, become more resilient, gain wisdom, earn confidence to know how to handle it next time, or to help someone else?
What if those sleepless nights help you be able to empathize with another mom down the road a bit? What if it leads you to find solutions that can help many other families someday?
What if all the "bad things" happening are shaping you into the person you were always supposed to become?
The Parable of the Currant Bush
There is a story of a currant bush which is so sad, but hits deep. [This was found HERE and was written by Hugh B Brown in 1973.]
"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 (two meters) 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 clipped it back until there was nothing left but 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 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 someday, 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. Thank you, Mr. Gardener.’”"
If you don't feel like you can feel grateful for the challenges you have in postpartum and motherhood, the parts of your life that feel heartbreaking and disappointing, the things that you feel jilted about, that's okay. You're human, after all.
But it is such a lovely thought, such a powerful belief to choose to see those things as opportunities to grow closer to God and become your very best self.
There is a story of a currant bush which is so sad, but hits deep. [This was found HERE and was written by Hugh B Brown in 1973.]
"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 (two meters) 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 clipped it back until there was nothing left but 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 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 someday, 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. Thank you, Mr. Gardener.’”"
Photo by Anna Evans on Unsplash
If you don't feel like you can feel grateful for the challenges you have in postpartum and motherhood, the parts of your life that feel heartbreaking and disappointing, the things that you feel jilted about, that's okay. You're human, after all.
But it is such a lovely thought, such a powerful belief to choose to see those things as opportunities to grow closer to God and become your very best self.
My "Failed" Mission
I served a mission for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints when I was 21 years old. I had a lot of expectations - a whole lifetime of what I thought a mission would be and the kind of "good missionary" I would be. I had examples from siblings and lots of church culture telling me how important and worthwhile it all was.
I served for 6 months and mostly loved it. I put myself out there and helped, served, and tried with enthusiasm and joy.
The person who came out of that heartbreak?
She’s the one writing this today.
I served a mission for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints when I was 21 years old. I had a lot of expectations - a whole lifetime of what I thought a mission would be and the kind of "good missionary" I would be. I had examples from siblings and lots of church culture telling me how important and worthwhile it all was.
I served for 6 months and mostly loved it. I put myself out there and helped, served, and tried with enthusiasm and joy.
And then when I was transferred, everything began to fall apart. Eventually I became severely depressed, though I didn't know depression is what it was.
Still smiled at times when things were super hard...
I suffered despair, suicidal thoughts, and humiliation as I navigated the rest of my mission in a very messy way. I became almost completely opposite of what I thought a "good missionary" was.
I served for 10 months instead of the expected 18, and it felt like I had failed. It took years to feel "healed" again. I did not see any benefit of going through that at the time. I hated what my life had become. I just wanted to start it all over. I felt extreme shame and disappointment.
I served for 10 months instead of the expected 18, and it felt like I had failed. It took years to feel "healed" again. I did not see any benefit of going through that at the time. I hated what my life had become. I just wanted to start it all over. I felt extreme shame and disappointment.
Who are You Becoming THROUGH It All?
My "failed" mission changed me. Forever.
My "failed" mission changed me. Forever.
The person who came out of that heartbreak?
She’s the one writing this today.
The woman who emerged from that experience was one who was more wise. More gentle. More empathetic.
I can't even tell you how much that empathy is worth to me. That I can genuinely understand another person who is IN IT. Who is dealing with depression. Who feels intense shame and disappointment. Who has a life that is NOT going according to plan.
I can't even tell you how much that empathy is worth to me. That I can genuinely understand another person who is IN IT. Who is dealing with depression. Who feels intense shame and disappointment. Who has a life that is NOT going according to plan.
Years after that when I went through postpartum depression, I was much quicker to get help. My mission experience had prepared me to be able to reach out and find healing sooner.
God knows me. He knows what challenges, even deep ones that I need. He knows you too, my friend.
It can be hard to be grateful for it, especially when and soon after it's happening. So while you wrestle with all the feelings that come up, lean on someone who loves you and who has been there, who has made an old friend with disappointment.
But someday, I believe you'll know just what to say when that young mom has a colicky baby or has terrifying intrusive thoughts. You'll be able to reach out and help the mom who is in the darkness of postpartum depression. You'll know how to look her in the eye and help her feel seen and deeply loved.
That's why we go through these things.
It's hard to be pruned. But it's for our growth. And oh the beauty that you are becoming- the wise beauty- through all of this.
And a final word from Mr. Brown: "Many of you are going to have very difficult experiences: disappointment, heartbreak, bereavement, defeat. You are going to be tested and tried. I just want you to know that if you don’t get what you think you ought to get, remember, God is the gardener here. He knows what He wants you to be. Submit yourselves to His will. Be worthy of His blessings, and you will get His blessings."God knows me. He knows what challenges, even deep ones that I need. He knows you too, my friend.
It can be hard to be grateful for it, especially when and soon after it's happening. So while you wrestle with all the feelings that come up, lean on someone who loves you and who has been there, who has made an old friend with disappointment.
But someday, I believe you'll know just what to say when that young mom has a colicky baby or has terrifying intrusive thoughts. You'll be able to reach out and help the mom who is in the darkness of postpartum depression. You'll know how to look her in the eye and help her feel seen and deeply loved.
That's why we go through these things.
It's hard to be pruned. But it's for our growth. And oh the beauty that you are becoming- the wise beauty- through all of this.
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