Full Hands, Full Hearts

This past fall, our family spent several days exploring Bryce Canyon. Traipsing about the various hiking trails with four small children in tow, we soon discovered that to many people we were quite the spectacle-- not the majestic scenery around us.

With Taylor and Reilly blazing the way, Dani on Bryson's chest, and Logan on my back, we caught many fellow tourists do a double take as we meandered on by.

Many people struck up little conversations with us as our paths crossed, usually beginning with either, "You two look like you have your hands full!" or "Wow, you guys sure are brave!"

Several times, groups would pass by us and then-- thinking we were out of earshot-- remark, "Now that is a lot of kids!"  Sometimes it was said with bemusement, sometimes a bit snarkily. 

My initial reaction to the fuss we were making was somewhere along the lines of, "Seriously?  There's only four!"  I do realize that here in Utah the average family size is much larger than the rest of the United States-- and other Western countries for that matter, but still... four?  Growing up with two siblings of my own in the Midwest didn't seem to raise any eyebrows, why would the addition of one more make such a difference today?

Was it because we seemed a bit young to have so many children?

At 34, I certainly don't feel that young.

Was it because they were so close in age, with our oldest only six?

Given the fertility struggles we had in getting our family started, and nearly four-year-gap between Reilly and the twins, it didn't feel as though we had been especially prolific.
 
Clearly the experience had an impact on me, because here it is six months since our trip and I am still ruminating over the whole thing.

I am bothered by the disparity between how society views children and parenthood, and how I believe God views them.  I see each of my children as a direct blessing from heaven.  The trust placed in me by my Father in Heaven to care for, teach, and raise His children is a stewardship I do not take lightly.  I don't choose to be a mother because I am repressed by a domineering patriarchal faith into staying in the home and not "doing something better with my life."  I choose to be a mother because my faith reminds me of the divine, ennobling calling that it is.  Molding the rising generation and helping them gain knowledge and life experiences that will assist them in ultimately returning to their heavenly home is my career choice.  It is my chosen profession.  It is my life's calling.

President Thomas S. Monson has said:

Let us earnestly follow [the Savior's] direction: "Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not: for such is the kingdom of God." (see Mark 10:14)

A popular song includes the words, "There are angels among us."  These angels are quite frequently the precious little ones God, our Father, has entrusted to our earthly care. To them we may teach prayer, inspire faith, live truth, and honor God.  Then we shall have heavenly homes and forever families.  For what higher gift could we wish?  For what greater blessing could we pray?  None!"
("Teach the Children," October 1997 Conference Report)

Our hands might be full, yes.
But our hearts?
Even more so.