I'd Rather be a Mother

I'd rather be a mother than anyone on ­earth

Bringing up a child or two of unpretentious ­birth. . . .

I'd rather tuck a little child all safe and sound in ­bed

Than twine a chain of diamonds about my [carefree] ­head.

I'd rather wash a smudgy face with round, bright, baby ­eyes

Than paint the pageantry of fame or walk among the ­wise.
--Meredith Gray, from The Beauty of Motherhood

My very good friend Chantelle sent the following to me, and I wanted to share it with all of you.
This is an excerpt from the book "Mothers" by Jane Clayson Johnson:

A couple of years ago, my husband and I attended a dinner meeting outside Washington, D.C. It was a wonderful gather­ing of about ­seventy-­five mostly LDS couples from a variety of ­­professions, including law, business, education, and ­communications. After dinner, each of us was asked to introduce him- or herself.
The men in the room confidently and appropriately stated their professional achievements, which were impressive. They had degrees; they served on boards; they tended to patients and served clients; they had accomplished sons and ­daughters.
Then their wives stood ­up--­beautiful, intelligent, spiritual women. Many of them had served on boards, held degrees, and were seasoned in their respective fields. Each of them was also a ­mother.
But this is how many of the women described ­themselves:
"Oh, I'm just a mom."
"I don't have any credentials; I'm just raising our six ­children."
"My life's not very exciting right now; I'm just a ­stay-­at-­home mom."
"I don't have much to offer here. I'm just a mother."
We heard some variation of the phrase "I'm just a mother" repeated, almost apologetically, over and over ­again.
Their words surprised me. I had recently given birth to my first child, and I was on top of the world. My baby was a blessing that had come to me a little later in life than usual, and I was excited and honored to finally accept the mantle of motherhood. I felt an extraordinary sense of responsibility. And power. Not as the world defines the word, but from entering a sacred partnership with the Creator himself. What a remarkable gift! I wanted to shout from the rooftops, "I am a mother! I am a mother!"
So when I heard these women say, "I'm just a mother," I was taken aback. Was I missing something? Did these lovely ­women--­these experienced ­mothers--­know something I didn't? Was it simply a matter of time before I'd figure it out? Before I, too, would understand that motherhood was somehow of lesser ­importance?
I was so bewildered by their comments that questions began to gnaw at ­me--­What have I done? What have I ­done?
When I left my television career in New York City to get married and to have a family, many of my colleagues told me I was crazy, that I was out of my mind. I had turned down a lucrative, ­four-­year network contract, working on exciting, ­high-­profile, ­prime-­time ­projects.
Some people were incredibly supportive. One producer in particular came into my office, looked me straight in the eye, and said, "Good for you!" He wasn't endorsing my decision to be a mother per se, but he did congratulate me for having the courage to follow my heart, to act on my convictions. He noted that there were so very many others with the impulse to leave; but they wouldn't. They just couldn't walk away from the prestige, the money, or whatever it was that seemed more important than ­following their ­hearts.
By way of contrast, when I explained to another rather influential colleague that I would not be taking that contract offer, he told me I was making a terrible decision that I would regret for years to come. "What will you be without your job?" he asked. "If you leave television now, you're done." He quoted an old CBS newsman as saying, "Without work, there is no meaning to life." And finally, knowing of my faith, he asked, "What are you going to do . . . move up there and teach Sunday School?" Well, as it turned out, the first Sunday in my new ward, I was called to ­teach--­the Gospel Doctrine ­class.
I found that the reaction from my female colleagues was largely, and disappointingly, less than supportive. I shared my decision with one woman who smugly joked, "Why don't you just get a nanny?" Another network executive asked me what I was going to do once I got to Boston. I told her I was going to have a family, I was going to be a mother. "No, I understand that," she said, puzzled, "but what are you going to do?"
All of this was still fresh on my mind during that evening spent near Washington, D.C. A chorus of "I'm just a mother," juxtaposed with "What will you be without your job?" and "You're making a terrible mistake" made me wonder, Could they be ­right?
Is it possible that motherhood is an insignificant, ­second-­rate ­occupation?
Had I made a bad decision? I thought I'd done everything right. I'd fasted and prayed. I'd felt such a powerful, spiritual confirmation that this was the right choice, for me. Could it be that Heavenly Father would plan for me to walk away from something I loved for the "misery" of being "just a mother"?
What I have since learned is that God's definition of motherhood and the world's definition are vastly different. And ­sometimes--­probably all too ­often--­the challenges, daily physical and emotional exhaustion, and occasional ­self-­doubt that come along with being a mother cause many of us to buy into an inaccurate and destructive understanding of our role. There just doesn't seem to be a lot of ­joy--­or ­fulfillment--­associated with the world's interpretation of ­motherhood.
But when we trust in the arm of the Lord rather than the voices of the world, everything changes. Elder Neal A. Maxwell observed, "When the real history of mankind is fully disclosed, will it feature the echoes of gunfire or the shaping sound of lullabies? The great armistices made by military men or the peacemaking of women in homes and in neighborhoods? Will what happened in cradles and kitchens prove to be more controlling than what happened in congresses?" ("The Women of God," 10-11).
I see no "justs" when I read those words. Instead, I feel something: Honor. Responsibility. Awe. Hope. I begin to understand what the First Presidency of The Church of Jesus Christ of ­Latter-­day Saints has been quietly reminding mothers for years, that "motherhood is near to divinity," the "highest, holiest service to be assumed by mankind" (J. Reuben Clark Jr., Improvement Era, 761).
At times, there may be few immediate rewards for those of us who are mothers. There are no Christmas bonuses, no promotions, no paid vacations. But there is love, there is laughter, there is joy. And there are assurances. For, as the Apostle Paul taught, "Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that love him" (1 Corinthians 2:9). A mother who loves the Lord and teaches her children to do the ­same--­above all ­else--­cannot be denied this ­blessing.
President Gordon B. Hinckley has said, "God planted within women something divine" (Teachings of Gordon B. Hinckley, 387). It is that divinity that makes women nurturers, that encourages a woman to pursue ­motherhood--­even when that means sacrificing her own comforts for those of her children . . . and loving those children with a fierceness and loyalty that is ­incomparable.
What power we would possess if every mother would turn off the voices of the world and instead truly believe what President Hinckley and all the prophets have ­taught--­and the Lord has promised!