As a younger mom it never crossed my mind, but as I got a little older, the thought occurred to me that maybe our family nights would be a little more successful if I put more thought into them. Years ago I decided to take it a step further and started to pray to know what topic we should discuss that night.
I can tell you that an answer that I could recognize has come to me no more than 3-5 times since. I pray nearly every week to know what our family needs and what we should talk about. And I get crickets. Blank, cloudless skies with a slight breeze. Nothing.
I’ve gone through the whole range of emotions: mostly frustration that we’re obviously not communicating, God and me. That our family is not worthy of such an answer. Families are important, so of all the things I ask Him for and about, shouldn’t this kind of thing top the list? I feel embarrassed that I can’t get an answer for such a simple request. I feel like I’m letting my family down. That if a mom can’t get answers for her family, then what good is she?
Over and over, week after week, this has been my dialogue and frustration. And it’s a lot like my prayers over everything else. I don’t get much of anything, so I get up and just do what I think is best.
But the past few months I’ve wondered if there’s another way to look at this.
What if it doesn’t matter what we teach? What if the topic, the lesson, the message, isn’t the point at all? What if all that matters is we came together? And then I remembered that someone I admire and revere so much said the same thing in a talk years ago.
“Now, I am sure what I am about to describe has never occurred in your home, but it did in ours. Sometimes Sister Bednar and I wondered if our efforts to do these spiritually essential things were worthwhile. Now and then verses of scripture were read amid outbursts such as “He’s touching me!” “Make him stop looking at me!” “Mom, he’s breathing my air!” Sincere prayers occasionally were interrupted with giggling and poking. And with active, rambunctious boys, family home evening lessons did not always produce high levels of edification. At times Sister Bednar and I were exasperated because the righteous habits we worked so hard to foster did not seem to yield immediately the spiritual results we wanted and expected.
Today if you could ask our adult sons what they remember about family prayer, scripture study, and family home evening, I believe I know how they would answer. They likely would not identify a particular prayer or a specific instance of scripture study or an especially meaningful family home evening lesson as the defining moment in their spiritual development. What they would say they remember is that as a family we were consistent.
Sister Bednar and I thought helping our sons understand the content of a particular lesson or a specific scripture was the ultimate outcome. But such a result does not occur each time we study or pray or learn together. The consistency of our intent and work was perhaps the greatest lesson—a lesson we did not fully appreciate at the time.
In my office is a beautiful painting of a wheat field. The painting is a vast collection of individual brushstrokes—none of which in isolation is very interesting or impressive. In fact, if you stand close to the canvas, all you can see is a mass of seemingly unrelated and unattractive streaks of yellow and gold and brown paint. However, as you gradually move away from the canvas, all of the individual brushstrokes combine together and produce a magnificent landscape of a wheat field. Many ordinary, individual brushstrokes work together to create a captivating and beautiful painting.
Each family prayer, each episode of family scripture study, and each family home evening is a brushstroke on the canvas of our souls. No one event may appear to be very impressive or memorable. But just as the yellow and gold and brown strokes of paint complement each other and produce an impressive masterpiece, so our consistency in doing seemingly small things can lead to significant spiritual results. “Wherefore, be not weary in well-doing, for ye are laying the foundation of a great work. And out of small things proceedeth that which is great” (D&C 64:33). Consistency is a key principle as we lay the foundation of a great work in our individual lives and as we become more diligent and concerned in our own homes” (Elder Bednar).
And as I thought about this at church today, I wondered if this principle of simply gathering, of doing things as a family, is what really matters and what or how we do it simply isn’t.
What about Christmas? Does it matter what traditions we have, what foods we make each year, what gifts we give, how it all looks? As much as we’re taught to believe they do, I’m beginning to see that none of it really matters at all. Our kids just want me to watch movies with them and to play games with them. They don’t care that we just have brownies and ice cream for dessert. Or Lucky Charms for breakfast. They just want us to be together.
What about dinner? I don’t think kids care one bit if we make pancakes and tacos every week. Or that we have pizza from a store. Even though they’d never say it, what they really crave is the security and stability having dinner together provides. At least looking back that’s how I felt. Even though both parents worked and evenings were rushed, we still had dinner together (think basic 80s fare: spaghetti, tostadas, macaroni and cheese and boiled hot dogs). And even though we almost always had the tv on during dinner, just this simple ritual provided structure and a sense of peace.
Service? I’ve always wanted to be the kind of family that sings to the old people on Sundays. Believe me, that will never, ever be the case. We’re more the kind to pick up trash on our walks. I’d love to be so much more involved in the community, to donate blood together, to make a real difference. We’re more quiet, no one’s lining up to donate blood, and we’re simply more the kind to have a new family over every so often. As families it doesn’t matter how we get to know people or how we try to make a difference; what matters is we’re all just trying to teach our kids to be more selfless, to think outside of themselves, to look around. That’s all that matters.
What about hobbies and vacations? Every family has its own culture, but it seems to matter less what the actual activities are and more that family members spend time together; the hobbies are just the vehicle to facilitate this. Some families are into motorbiking, skiing, surfing, camping, fishing, or hunting; others like music, hiking, shopping, swimming, games, movies, sight-seeing, or crafts. From what I’ve noticed, good families simply do things together, that’s it. Skiing is no better or worse than four-wheeling, and camping can unite families as well as cruises.
I don’t think it matters if we go to Disneyland, Hawaii, or on a road trip to see grandma. I don’t think kids care if they go to the Bahamas or the backyard. Growing up, we took one family trip each year, a 12 hour car ride through Death Valley to visit cousins. We spent a week swimming, shopping, and eating pizza; nothing fancy, but we looked forward to that trip all year. Todd had a similar childhood, and most of his vacations were also road trips to see cousins and grandparents, mostly camping with brought-from-home-food.
I remember hearing something similar from another talk, “A friend took his young family on a series of summer vacation trips, including visits to memorable historic sites. At the end of the summer he asked his teenage son which of these good summer activities he enjoyed most. The father learned from the reply, and so did those he told of it. ‘The thing I liked best this summer,’ the boy replied, ‘was the night you and I laid on the lawn and looked at the stars and talked.’ Super family activities may be good for children, but they are not always better than one-on-one time with a loving parent” (Elder Oaks).
I know this isn’t really new news to anyone, but I just wonder if it could help allay some of the stress we feel as parents if we re-think things a bit. Birthdays, holidays, meals, entertainment, lessons… what if instead of getting so hung up on the particulars, we focus our energy on simply making things happen? Rather than not have dinner because the new enchilada recipe was a bomb, order pizza or have dad make BLTs. Gather. Simply do what it takes to make dinner a priority. What if we can’t compete with the way birthdays are celebrated at school? Make your own family tradition of a home-cooked meal and special dessert and stick with that over the years. Instead of spending so much energy on a magazine-worthy Christmas, ask the kids what they really want, and just go with that. Instead of not having family home evening because you never got an answer about what to teach, just open the scriptures and pick a verse to talk about, ask them how it applies to jr. high and life today. Go for a walk and enjoy nature. Go get ice cream and remind the kids how everyone’s got different tastes or how great it is to be able to choose for themselves. They’ll most likely never remember any of the particulars about any of it. What they’ll remember is that we did things together as a family. That we prayed and tried to read the scriptures, that we mostly had dinner every night and that we had lots of desserts, that we took family vacations and we played games after our walk every Sunday. That we were consistent. What they’ll hopefully remember and recognize over time is what really mattered to us as a family. And what simply didn’t.
