Why limitations help us learn what matters most

Middle of the night musings once again.

Yesterday morning, I began the day by listening to my "conference talk of the week," an idea I got from a friend at church.  As the talk I had selected finished, I was still working in the kitchen and my hands were busy so I went onto the next one,..and then the next one.

Elder Bednar's voice, that calm and powerful voice, began to speak about his brethren who had died, paying loving tribute to them.  He then brought up the concern of many that our Church is led by old men.  His response was thoughr-provoking:

President Hinckley [said], “Isn’t it wonderful to have a man of maturity at the head, a man of judgment who isn’t blown about by every wind of doctrine?” (broadcast on Apr. 7, 1996)...

Several years ago I spent a Sunday afternoon with Elder Hales in his home as he was recovering from a serious illness. We discussed our families, our quorum responsibilities, and important experiences. 

At one point I asked Elder Hales, “You have been a successful husband, father, athlete, pilot, business executive, and Church leader. What lessons have you learned as you have grown older and been constrained by decreased physical capacity?” 

Elder Hales paused for a moment and responded, “When you cannot do what you have always done, then you only do what matters most.” 

I was struck by the simplicity and comprehensiveness of his answer. My beloved apostolic associate shared with me a lesson of a lifetime—a lesson learned through the crucible of physical suffering and spiritual searching. 

The limitations that are the natural consequence of advancing age can in fact become remarkable sources of spiritual learning and insight. The very factors many may believe limit the effectiveness of these servants can become some of their greatest strengths. Physical restrictions can expand vision. Limited stamina can clarify priorities. Inability to do many things can direct focus to a few things of greatest importance. 

 Yesterday, I was faced with so many of the limitations that I face:
-many demands on my time and attention
-a idealistic vision of what I want to happen for my children and homeschooling and continuous inability to do it all, however well-meaning, inspired or necessary I feel it may be
-exhaustion from being up some of the night with a teething baby
-children who have dreams and visions of their own that don't always coincide with mine at the moment
...basically not enough time and energy to do "it all."  Yah.  Go figure.  Maybe this sounds familiar?

Bednar's words floated around in my head as I busily and earnestly went through my day, trying to stop and meet a need here and meet a need there in my quest to "get it done."

In the evening, Liliputian came up to me and cheerfully said, "Should we start packing for the Moores' house (our Thanksgiving destination)?"

"No!" I snapped abruptly.  "We are out of time.  I have spent all day trying to help and work and now we simply don't have enough time."  She walked away, crest-fallen.

Now my Lily is a treasure, one who takes care of others and (for the most part) works hard at her many stewardships.  She is soft in her answers, loving in her support of those who are hurt in our home, and one who continually reaches out to me to make my perceived burdens lighter.   My answer (and attitude!) were utterly unfair to her. But I didn't leave it at that!  I went into her later and continued to dump on her my grown-up frustrations with my limited time and ability, my intuitive guilty recognition that, somehow, I had missed the point of Bednar's message making me upset...and I was taking it out on her sensitive twelve-year old heart.

Seeing her tear-rimmed eyes at scriptures later that night touched me to the quick, and I strove to heal what I had hurt.  Loving soul that she is, she forgave me, but I could still see lingering doubts as to her self-worth and value in my eyes.

As I sat up nursing my baby in those precious, reflective nighttime hours later that night, my thoughts wandered back to Bednar's message.  What was truly important? Or, to rephrase Elder Hales poignant statement:

“When you cannot do what you [would like to get done], ...what matters most?” 

The Spirit gently whispered, "What matters most is to nurture your children. Not make pies.  Not make rolls.  Not rearrange and paint and clean the house.  You will always have something more to do.  I gave you endless possibility of what you could do with your time so that you could discover and practice at and learn what truly matters most. 

"You can use those activities as canvases to include your children in, to teach them and spend time with them and inspire them.  But they, your children are the reason why you are doing it.  And when you are doing it at their expense, you are not doing 'what matters most.' 

"They are what matters most."