I think we all have subconscious beliefs, some more deeply held than others.  One of mine has always been that as two reasonably smart, hard working, well educated people, we would always be able to provide well for our children.  The last few years has proved that this is not always the case.  It has been difficult, and at times, downright depressing.  However, as so much of life is perspective, I've decided to change mine!  There's not a lot I can do to change our economic situation, but I can learn, grow and teach from it.

I have always been weary of raising entitled children.  Sometimes I have done better than others at curbing this.  However, nothing quite knocks out entitlement like poverty!  I suppose we could max out every line of credit possible to provide our children with more, but the damage to both them and us would be long-lasting.  Lately my children having been complaining that we need a bigger house.  This is true, I don't disagree.  But my inability to change the situation has led us to some interesting conversations.  Recently, we had a discussion about entitlement.  It went something like this:

Kid: "You need to buy a bigger house! I shouldn't have to share a room with them!  None of my friends share rooms with little brothers.  I DESERVE my own room! I need it!"

This was perfect!  It opened a discussion about entitlement.  I explained to my children that they are entitled to certain things from parents: adequate amounts of nutritious food, a few changes of clean clothes, shelter and a bed, affection, love, nurturing, medical and dental care, educational needs met.  Which of these needs were not met?  Where, on the list, did it say OWN BEDROOM?  We had this discussion a week later about newer, trendier clothing... where was that on the list?  This particular child has a cache of personal spending money.  Why not spend that on the clothes?  Apparently, according to the child, buying clothes is MY responsibility as a parent.  Again, I don't disagree - but that is limited to necessity.  I think under a normal situation I would have taken the child shopping for a few new things, not realizing I was feeding the entitlement monster.  Our scarce funds are keeping things in check!

I hope, during these difficult times, that my children are learning to work for what they want.  My boys have been taking karate lessons for the last year.  When our contract expired in May, I tearfully told the instructor that we could not afford to return.  I was shocked when he said that he didn't want to lose good students, and to continue to come anyway.  Poverty has shown us the good in others at every turn!  I am thankful to have my children see this, and to want to think about ways to give back. 

This week, Jared starts a new job... not a career job, but an hourly wage job to pay the rent.  I am thankful for his example to our children - that although he has a good education and skills for a great career, he is not too proud to do what's necessary to provide for our family.  I want the children to learn the value of work, and that when something is given to you, it's a blessing to be treasured, not a right.  As Jared is now working, we have signed a contract at karate once again.  However, the full monthly payment for three boys is hefty, and we volunteered to clean the karate studio in exchange for a monthly discount.  All three boys now go and scrub and mop the studio.   How wonderful to realize that they're not entitled to lessons!  How wonderful that they're learning to problem solve, and figure out ways to work for what they want!

During this time, we've had to go on Food Stamps.  This was a hard decision to make, and somewhat humiliating.  At first, I was tempted to hide it from the world, my private badge of shame.  Then I realized we were given a wonderful blessing!  I realized that, after doing all we could do, we were getting help, and I needed to acknowledge the blessing.  We told the children all about it, explaining how richly blessed we've been in the face of trial.  We told the children that in all the pre-poverty years, we faithfully and ungrudgingly paid taxes and gave to charity, never expecting to be on the receiving end of welfare service.  We told them how lucky we are, how blessed, to live in a time and place where we can get help.  We explained that, once Daddy has that great job, we will have to remember others in our current situation with love and sympathy, that we can't judge, and that we can have compassion and understanding.

We have been so, so lucky to be surrounded by loving and giving people.  We are thankful for grandparents who take kids shoe shopping and give generous birthday gifts.  We are thankful for friends who take our kids out to dinner, give them rides, love and acceptance.  We are thankful for neighbors who find ways to funnel money our way - babysitting, dog walking, etc.  We are thankful for teachers who overlook the fact that our name is missing from the list of class funds and extra school supplies contributors.  We are thankful to point out these gifts to our children, to help them really SEE.

Of course, the children still want to be involved in activities like every other kid.  This year Claire is in 6th grade, the first year of band.  She really wanted to join and play the clarinet.  Instruments are expensive!  Joshua plays the trumpet, because thankfully, we own a trumpet.  However, we don't have a clarinet.... so Claire and I had to have a discussion.  I told her that the school has a few instruments for the most needy children, and that we would try to borrow a clarinet.  However, if they couldn't give her one, we would figure out a way to get her a clarinet.  We're learning to be scrappy!  Claire understood the sacrifice we were willing to make on her behalf, and was grateful! How different is this from pre-poverty, where the clarinet would have magically appeared without preamble?  How much more willing is she to practice, knowing the sacrifice?  Thankfully, the school was able to provide her with a clarinet.  Still, I hope she understands that her receiving the clarinet kept it from going to another needy student.  I hope that she plays it with gratitude in her heart, with understanding, and with more desire to take advantage of the blessing.

I still can't say that I love poverty, of laying in bed and staring at the ceiling.  However, when the sun rises and prosperity dawns, I hope we can take these lessons with us.  I hope that James still saves his birthday money until May, when he spends the bulk on a gift for Claire, and then the rest until September, when Claire gives him enough money to combine with his for a nice gift for Joshua.  I hope that they look at their schools supplies with wonder and appreciation, and tell me that I can return the box of pencils because they have old pencils from last year.  I hope they still ask for the right glue for shoe repair.  I hope that when they see a child struggling, they will look deep to find what they can give.  And most of all, I hope that when their lives give them dark and desperate times, that they will find resilience and gratitude, scrappiness and happiness.

First day of school

It's past midnight and I can't sleep.  Maybe it's anxiety.  Maybe it's because I have a new baby and have been sleeping weird hours.  Maybe it's the 20 oz of Mountain Dew I consumed tonight.  Whatever the reason, I've given up lying in bed and have decided to celebrate the first day of school by writing about it

Today was the first day of school for four of my five children.  I've always loved the first day of school.  I love the newness of pencil erasers and notebooks.  I love new school clothes.  I love the beginning of the fall season.  However, the school year has a progression that, in spite of my best efforts, continues every year.

I'll start with the evening before the first day, when we lay out carefully selected outfits.  The children all shower before bed.  We trim hair and nails.  We make sure bedrooms are straightened up, in order to ease the morning chaos.  Backpacks and lunches are carefully packed.  This kind of super organization will last a few weeks into the school year, and then it will slowly erode.  One kid will miss a shower one night.  Two nights later, the laundry will still be in the dryer and we won't be able to lay out clothes.  Someone will need to finish homework in the morning, so a backpack won't get packed.  By thanksgiving, the whole system will have imploded.  Kids will be showering when I have the energy to nag for twenty minutes.  The next morning, they'll pick clothes from the mixture of dirty and clean laundry on the floor.  Backpacks will be stuffed as they walk out the door to the bus, and will consist of a mixture of wadded up old assignments, notes from teachers I never received, and current homework. At various points throughout the school year, I will make valiant efforts to get back on track.  After Christmas, everything will be better.  I'll stay on top of it all.

Breakfast is another landslide waiting to happen.  This morning we sat down, as a family, to hot, fresh cinnamon rolls (thank you Jared).  Tomorrow, scrambled eggs.  Friday, oatmeal.  Next week, we will still have family breakfast, although once or twice we'll give in to the temptation of cold cereal.  In two weeks, the children will help themselves to cold cereal as they wake up.  In a few months, we'll be handing them granola bars as they walk out the door.  Eventually, they'll have to scavenge for stale popcorn for breakfast. 

Tomorrow, I will spend the first half hour after school totally devoted to my children.  We will go through backpacks.  I will admire the work they accomplished that day.  Together, we will lovingly hang their artwork.  I will know all about little Johnny getting sick in the bathroom, and the hilarious thing Suzie said on the bus.  In March, there will be heaps of paper scattered about.  I will spend precious time deciphering whether homework has been turned in and returned, or still a work-in-progress.  The teacher emails will be rolling in, saying "Child X is missing assignments A, B, C and D" and "Child Y STILL hasn't turned in a book report from last month."

Don't even get me started on reading logs!  This month, we will hang them in a prominent location.  We will read and mark the calendar EVERY DAY!  In two months, I will mark every day at the end of the month, sign it, and the child will turn it in.  Eventually (at parent teacher conference), the teacher will point out that we're missing the last two reading logs.  I will feel like a deer in the headlights.

So, I'm taking this moment to enjoy today.  Pencils have full erasers and sharp points. The bottoms of the backpacks aren't full of crayon papers and candy wrappers.  The principal and I haven't had any heart to hearts yet.  I am superwoman, organized and on top of it all.  This week.

I have given prayer a lot of thought lately.  Two years ago, Jared quit his job, we sold our house, said goodbye to our friends and family, and moved across the country.  Jared started the MBA program at BYU.  We prayed and felt peace and confidence in our decision.  We knew we were doing the right thing.  We had faith that BYU's excellent job placement would provide us with a dream job to meet the needs of our family.  Two years later, things have not worked out as planned.  Jared struggled to find an internship, finally taking an almost unpaid local offer, which greatly altered our financial plan.  Now, three weeks before graduation, we still have no job, and no plan for our future. We are expecting baby number 5, and our money runneth dry.

So, here lies the foundation of my thoughts on prayer: if we are doing what we are supposed to do, trying our hardest, have righteous desires, and are fasting and praying, why is God not answering our prayers?  I have given this a lot of thought, and want to record my feelings.

Firstly, I think sometimes we imagine God as a genie in a bottle.  If we ask nicely, we will receive the blessings we desire (or even think we've earned or deserve).  We expect God to give us what is due. We become disheartened, depressed, or hopeless when we don't feel our prayers are being adequately answered.  We try to have faith, but cannot understand God's timing or ways.  I have often seen, when looking back at previous trials, the hand of God and His blessings in answer to prayers. However, in the moment, it is hard to see that He is answering our prayers in other ways, with other blessings.  I have hope that, in five years, we will look back on this time and see that He did answer our prayers.  By being denied the immediate gratification of the answer we sought, we learned something or were in the right place at the right time for other blessings.  Eventually, the right job will come and maybe isn't ready yet.  Maybe we really haven't exercised enough faith.  Someday, I will understand.  For now, I just have to have a lot more faith and hope.

Additionally, I have to remind myself of the difference between temporal and eternal or spritual problems.  Spiritual problems will effect us for eternity.  Temporal problems can make our lives on Earth painful and difficult, but will only effect this life.  Joblessness is a temporal problem.  I need to remember an ETERNAL perspective, and not let the temporal problems destroy me.  Losing faith because I don't feel my prayers have been answered can MAKE a temporal problem an eternal problem.  I need to hold fast to what will matter longer, and use faith as an anchor to guide me through these difficult trials.

Finally, sometimes the answer to our problem lies in other people.  One of the beauties of the Earth is that God has given us agency, and He will never force anyone to do anything.  Therefore, if I am praying for Jared to get a job, ultimately job offers come from people.  I can pray that these people will hire Jared, BUT God is not going to force them to do so.  I suppose a better prayer would be to pray that Jared will be given clarity of speech, and the ability to interview to the best of his capabilities.  I may be able to pray that the recruiters will see his potential, but again, whether or not the person is able and capable of receiving that revelation is up to the agency of the recruiter.  I can't expect it both ways: we can pray that others will do exactly what we want, and yet have our own agency to make choices.

I am hoping that writing these thoughts will bring me some comfort.  I am writing here, as both our computers' hard drives fried in the last month, and we lost all our documents.  I now feel safer putting things where I can get to them from anywhere.  The loss of the computers is yet another trial to endure.  Someday it will all make sense.  In the meantime, I will look at this as an opportunity to ponder, learn and strengthen my faith.