Sabbath Devotional :: Because They Are Ours

Sunflowers are my favorite flower. This is the first sunflower I have ever planted, and it came up a few weeks ago in my curbside garden. It was supposed to be rust colored and fuller. It was not supposed to look like this is all, but it does not matter, I love it because it is mine.

About the time this sunflower came up, my husband and I became empty nesters for the first time in 27 years. Our adult children have bounced in and out of our upstairs apartment, together or separately, as they have dealt with the pandemic, finances, mental illness, difficult losses, and physical illness. Right now, they are spread across the country, one in the Northwest, one on the East Coast, and one living a few towns over — with plans to move out of state as soon as possible.

I could not help but think about this sunflower and compare it with my children. I had expectations for all of them. I had hoped the sunflower to be my favorite rusty hue, stouter and sturdier. My hopes for my children were many and varied, to serve missions, have temple marriages, stay firm in the gospel, live successful and full lives. None of that has happened, yet. My oldest is living a small life in an apartment, attending school, but is still not sure what they want to do. They are self-sufficient and use their e-bike to get everywhere. And just like that sunflower, I love them for that, because they are mine. Their life is not as full as I had once hoped, but they are content and thriving in their own way as they figure it out on their own. The next one is in DC, appears to be wildly successful, and as her mother I feel like she is wildly successful. But her depression haunts her and causes her to doubt every move, every success. Often she is ragged and beat down with her daily struggles. She is mine though, and I love her for being brave enough to try and often succeed. The last child has a full-time job at Huntsman Cancer Institute here in Salt Lake City, while going to school full time, and appears to be the most thriving of the bunch. She is now living with her boyfriend and is on the verge of getting engaged as she battles an autoimmune disease. I love her too, and her fiancé, because they are mine.

Much like the parable of the seed in Alma 32 v 37 I planted the seeds, my sunflowers and my children, “that (they) may get root, that (they) may grow up, and bring forth fruit.” I brought them up in faith and hope. My kids will tell you my favorite answer to any issue they posed while growing up was- “Did you drink enough water today?” and “Have you prayed about it?” We prayed often, we learned about the blessing of tithing together, attended church faithfully and not only talked about the gospel of Jesus Christ, but lived it. We fell short in many places too. I watered the sunflower faithfully and put it in a prime spot in my garden bed. And even with all that, none of them turned out how I expected. Yet, even with all that, they are mine and I love them as they are now. Their faith varies, the oldest is looking for a new faith community where they will feel accepted, the middle child is not engaging at all, and the youngest still prays over her problems and reaches out to her Heavenly Father. I still have hope, and while I respect their agency, I often, as I always have, share my experiences with faith when prompted and ask them about theirs. I always pray for them and about them to God and share my concerns. I talk with each of them almost daily. While I have hopes for them, I no longer have expectations. They are growing into what they will be and the best thing I can do is love them along the way, recognize them for who they are, and accept that we are not the same in many ways.

And I feel that can bind us and make us a stronger family. Not only do I love them because they are mine, but as we have grown together, I have realized some of my dreams do not fit who they are, and I love them for who they are.

Something that I have felt this year, repeatedly, as I sit in church, or a political debate, or dealt with other trying family dynamics, is that we are all different. It seems obvious, of course we are different, but I have gained a new understanding of our differences, that they should bind us and not divide us. A good friend and fellow MWEG-er recently shared a quote from Sister Okazaki in her Stake Conference talk, that “God loves diversity”. She stated that He is the creator of it. He created the fruit — but the apple, the orange, the pear, and the persimmon. We are all children of God, we are all His and the same in that way, yet we are all uniquely different — we have different heritages, skin colors, languages, cultures, faith journeys, and political views, among a few thousand other things. And instead of celebrating our differences, or working through them with each other, they often become a wedge of separation between us. Instead of allowing space for others to be different, sometimes we shun them because they are not like us, or do not meet our expectations. I encourage all of us to meet each other where they are, like our Savior does, with grace and kindness, and love others as you stay strong to your values. That love for them will sustain us as we grow together and move forward. I encourage us to love our neighbors, our children, our flowers, because they are ours.

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Patty Lingwall is the Salt Lake chapter coordinator at Mormon Women for Ethical Government.

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