I discovered something about myself today: I am an idealist. My brother passed along a couple of personality tests he wanted to compare notes on. The results really weren't surprising, but they were profoundly insightful. I've thought about them throughout the day and certain things are beginning to make sense to me.
I have expectations of how I think things should be in my life and my imaginations of what could be are not my reality (at least at this stage in my life). Maybe they are some people's, but they are not mine.
We deal daily in virtual realities. Through various media outlets and publications and on-line we're bombarded with all these picture perfect representations of all that life could be (Thank you, Pinterest). Life is air brushed, photo-shopped, instagrammed and manipulated in every way imaginable to make a beautifully dreamy, perfectly perfect representation of reality. But that's just it. It's just a representation and not always an accurate one.
So, when I have visions of using natural dyes to create lovely Easter eggs from our free range chickens (that don't exist in my real world) with my perfectly behaved children who never argue or say a cross word or drip dye on the table or themselves, and with my doting husband taking the lead and joining in with the rest of us, I am just setting myself up for disappointment. But I do it anyway. Why? Because I am an idealist, I guess. And because virtual reality says this is what every good and worthy mother does. Bah.
|Our imperfect but still beautiful Easter eggs|
I had an epiphany after wearing my pajamas and moping around most of the day: I can only do so much and there is a time and a season for everything. The trick is to love life even when it isn't what I dreamed it would be.
I wore myself out yesterday and I paid for it today. I was really sad that I had procrastinated so long and wasn't going to be able to do my natural dyes project. Heck, I hadn't even bought any regular old Paaz Easter egg dye yet. I ended up calling my husband in tears and asking him if he could pick up some egg dye and dye eggs with the boys. I felt overwhelmed by that simple thing and saddened by the fact that my perfect ideal wasn't going to happen. I did not have the energy. It just seemed like it was one more thing and I couldn't do it.
When he got home we went to get a few groceries and pick up the dye together and do you know what? He fell asleep on the floor and I dyed eggs at 9:30 at night with my kids (their bedtime is 8:00) and it was fine and enjoyable. NOT perfect but good.
Easter eggs aside, I have thought about Jesus Christ a lot today. I have thought about all the many ways I fall short. I am not perfect. Jesus Christ is. He makes up for all our imperfections. He loves us unconditionally and He is merciful. His grace is sufficient for all men and women and He can make our weaknesses into strengths (Ether 12:27, emphasis added).
Isn't that amazing? I guess it really was a good Friday after all.
"To Any Who Have Watched for a Son's Returning" by Mary Lyman Henrie
He watched his son gather all the goods
that were his lot,
anxious to be gone from tending flocks,
the dullness of the fields.
He stood by the olive tree gate long
after the caravan disappeared
where the road climbs the hills
on the far side of the valley,
Through changing seasons he spent the light
in a great chair, facing the far country,
and that speck of road on the horizon.
Mocking friends: "He will not come."
Whispering servants: "The old man
has lost his senses."
A chiding son: "You should not have let him go."
A grieving wife: "You need rest and sleep."
She covered his drooping shoulders,
his callused knees, when east winds blew chill, until that day . . .
A form familiar, even at infinity,
in shreds, alone, stumbling over pebbles.
"When he was a great way off,
His father saw him,
and had compassion, and ran,
and fell on his neck, and kissed him."
P.S. I thought a lot about my grandpa today too. He was buried 18 years ago today. I still miss him a lot and I'm so grateful that I'll see him again someday. That is one of the wonderful things that Easter is about.