A beautiful, joyful, perfect wedding

My oldest daughter got married in May of 2010.  She was such a beautiful bride, and it was a wonderful day for our family. If I could of picked her husband for her (which she never in a million years would have allowed) I would surely have picked SIL. He is the most gentle, kind, patient and caring person I have ever met, but most of all, he loves my daughter (thank goodness) in spite of her flaws and her difficult personality. But he is not a member of the Mormon church. Because I always dreamed of, and expected, my daughter to marry a good Mormon boy in the temple (more about that later), I was a little bit sad that her choices had led her away from her faith.

When SIL decided he wanted to ask my daughter to marry him, he nervously came to our house to ask my husband for our daughter's hand. It was a sweet, old-fashioned gesture that my husband really appreciated, because he still believes in such things. My daughter knew this, and told her soon-to-be hubby that he needed to do it. I think SIL would have done it anyway without a push, because he is just that kind of a guy.

So, he shows up at our house. He was a bundle of nerves. For some reason, all of my kid's friends and the people they date are afraid of my hubby. He's a big guy, and he doesn't smile a lot, even though he has a wicked sense of humor. He can be a little intimidating. Above all, he is very protective of his daughters. VERY protective. He often mentions to their dates that he has a shotgun and a shovel, and I don't always think it's a joke. He loves to grill the guys who come to our house to take his daughters out. He loves to watch them squirm. SIL knew him well already, and knew he might be in for an uncomfortable discussion.

When he sat down to talk to my hubby, and asked him if he could marry our daughter, he was surprised to receive such a favorable response. My hubby already knew he was the only guy on earth who could love her and put up with her. He also knew he would treat her like the princess she had always thought she was, for the rest of her life.

After they were done with their man talk, I was invited to come out. I had a few things to say to future SIL. I asked him: "Are you sure? Do you know how difficult she is? Are you sure you know her well enough? Do you realize what you're getting yourself into?" He answered all the questions with the right answers. Later when I told my daughter that I practically tried to talk him out of it, she said, "I knew you would, mom." She knows me, and she knows her difficult self.

After she was engaged, it was almost a year before they actually got married. Because she wasn't (and still isn't) active in the church, she chose to live with SIL for about 2 years. She had lived with a previous boyfriend as well (thank goodness that one didn't work out). It hurt me to watch her make these choices. I knew she knew better. But, she always knew I loved her, even if I didn't love her choices. Sometimes we had words about it, but mostly I didn't talk about it much with her because I knew it wouldn't help, and would only hurt our relationship. My relationship with my kids is everything. I can't ever help them to come back to what they know is right, if I don't have a good relationship with them.

When the wedding day finally arrived, I was determined not to dwell on any negative thoughts. I didn't let myself think about the fact that SIL was not a member of the church. I didn't think about the dreams I had always had of seeing her married in the temple (we believe that in the temple, couples can be sealed together for Time and all Eternity). I wanted to be happy on my daughter's wedding day.

Once, years before, I went to my nephew's wedding. He was a return missionary, but he was marrying a girl who was not an active member. They were getting married in a little white, non-denominational,  chapel. Before the ceremony started, I went to the basement of the chapel to go to the bathroom, and found my sister-in-law, my nephew's mom, crying. When I asked her what was wrong, she said, through her tears, "It isn't supposed to be like this". I knew she was talking about her son marrying outside the temple, to a girl who wasn't a strong member of the church. On that day, I made a decision that I would never do that. I would be happy on my child's wedding day no matter what. I was determined not to cry in a basement.

My daughter's wedding was beautiful. She had it in a park that had a big gazebo. She chose 3 bright colors for her theme. We decorated the gazebo with lights and brightly colored scarves and colored tulle. She had bright bows on all the chairs, and bright, colorful tablecloths. I thought it was breathtaking. It made me so happy to look at it all when we finished decorating. The bishop married them right in front of the gazebo steps. I cried, but they were tears of joy.

Even though she had once stated that she didn't want her ceremony to be religious, or mention God (this was annoying to me) she finally decided to have our bishop perform the ceremony. A bishop is the leader of a congregation, but he is not paid to do his job. He is called for a few years (through inspiration from the spirit) to lead the congregation, then released and another bishop is called. She really liked our bishop, and I think she realized she'd rather have him do it than some strange justice of the peace or somebody like that. He made it clear that God would definitely be mentioned, and he would be saying lots of religious stuff, but she still decided to have him do it. He did a beautiful job in my opinion. God was definitely mentioned, and the words were inspiring and beautiful. I loved it.

It was a wonderful day, even though I doubt I've ever been that exhausted. I was exhausted, but happy. They have been married 3 years now, and SIL still treats her like she's made of gold, and they are so very happy and devoted to each other. I am glad I made the choice to enjoy the day, and be happy for my daughter and for our family, even though it wasn't all "perfect", it was beautiful and perfect for them, and for me.

Not-so-perfect choices

I'm going to go back a few years, almost 27 years, to when I was a new wife and new mom. I married my husband, the man I loved, and always will love, in the LDS temple. I knew we were supposed to be together forever way before he did, but it took some convincing to get him to see it (he's a little slow on things like this). Hubby was a returned missionary. This means that he served as a missionary for our church for 2 years of his life. This is the formula that every good Mormon girl is supposed follow: Find a Return Missionary, then marry him in the Temple (where couples are sealed together for Time and All Eternity). I was sure that by following this pattern, everything else would fall into place. My family would be exactly like the ones you see in church with the perfect children, all lined up on the bench sitting perfectly with bows in the girls hair, and white shirts and ties on the boys.

What I am about to admit is hard for me. I want to look like a perfect Mormon mom. I don't talk about my failures with very many people. I kid myself and think that other people look at me and think I fit the perfect Mormon mold, but I don't. My family doesn't. I know there are many families that don't. Maybe there isn't really a mold, but just people, doing their best.

I had always wanted to raise my kids with the values that I had been raised with, and all the beliefs I had, and still have. I know that in his heart, my husband also wanted these things. He decided just a few months into our marriage that he wasn't going to go to church anymore, until he felt like he was doing it for himself, and not anyone else. Not even me. He believed in the doctrines, but he had some resentment from his childhood and the way he was pushed to go to church, that caused him to dislike going to his meetings. Needless to say this upset me greatly. I wanted us to be united in our spiritual life, and now we weren't. My deep love and commitment to my husband has never wavered, but I felt a little cheated, like there had been some false advertising.

We had our first child, our oldest daughter, when we had been married a little over a year. We were both ecstatic to be parents. My hubby didn't have any sisters, so he really wanted a girl first, and so did I. I loved being a mom from the first moment I became one. Less than two years later, our son came along, then 18 months later, our second daughter (who likes to call herself the neglected middle child). We were very poor. My husband was in and out of work. I was a stay-at-home mom who tried to make a little money on the side by doing daycare in my home, selling tupperware, and I even had my own preschool in my home for a while.

I was taking my kids to church without their dad most of the time, and I have to admit I felt quite a lot of anger and resentment. I really wanted him to be the strong priesthood leader of our family. Besides going to church with his family, I wanted him to lead our family spiritually by calling us all together for family prayers, scripture study and Family Home Evening (FHE). These are the things that our church leaders tell us to do in raising our families. FHE is when Mormon families gather together, usually on Monday nights, to learn the gospel, play games, eat treats or go out to do wholesome family activities. When Hubby didn't take the lead on these things, I was stubborn and determined to wait for him to do it. After all, it was his job, right? I also didn't do it myself because I could rationalize that those things weren't all that important, because my own parents didn't do those things regularly when I was growing up, and we all turned out to be strong members of the church in our adulthood. I realize now that I didn't have a testimony of how important those things were in raising strong, spiritual children.  But, every time I heard my leaders talk about it, I knew that since he wasn't doing it, and I knew that I should. When I got to feeling guilty I tried for a while, got discouraged when it was difficult, then gave up. I was weak and I let Satan win. To make myself feel better, I told myself that taking my kids to church on Sunday and to other church activities was going to be enough. They were going to be fine. That's how I was raised, and look how great I turned out. 

Two more daughters came along. Our household was filled with noise and laughter and fun. It's always been that way. Our kids are anything but quiet, calm and boring. Hubby attended church meetings with us sometimes. I did a lot of begging and trying to guilt him into changing his attitude about going to church, but I know it just pushed him farther from it. Even though I thought I was superior spiritually, I know now that I really wasn't. I was going to church more, but I wasn't living my life as close to my Heavenly Father as I should have been. I wasn't praying regularly, or having personal scripture study, or attending the temple. I was kidding myself into thinking I was doing fine. I see now that I wasn't a good example to my kids and didn't teach them the gospel at home, and I didn't give them opportunities to feel the spirit in our home. I wanted to blame my husband for not doing enough, but it wasn't all his fault. It was mine, too. He had his choices, but I had my choices too, and I made the choice to take the easier road, to not have to do things that were out of my comfort zone like trying to come up with FHE lessons every week, and trying to get my kids to participate in family prayer and scripture study. 

Fast forward to now. But, before I even start to talk about now, I have to say one thing. I realize that even if I would have done a perfect job in raising my kids strongly in the gospel, they still have their free agency. They can choose. Many families who are a lot better at the things I lacked, have children who choose different paths than what they are taught. I know that. But that knowledge didn't help much with the guilt I felt as I watched my 3 oldest children leave the church and make choices I hoped they never would. It hurt me so much. They are all 3 such wonderful people, with big hearts, and lots of talents and abilities, and really good character. I am so proud of them in so many countless ways. I love them with all my heart and soul, and because of that I so wanted for them to go on missions, to be married in the temple, to choose the life I always hoped they would. For the longest time guilt and pain almost consumed me. At times I could hardly function in my life.

Then one day, I finally decided to start living my own life the way I always should have, instead of just going through the motions. I started by going to the temple every week. Mormon temples are meeting houses that are more sacred than our church buildings. Mormons go there to be instructed, make promises or covenants, and feel closer to our Heavenly Father. I feel and felt so much love from my Heavenly Father there. I cried many tears as I asked him to forgive me for being so weak. I started praying daily, and then many times a day. I felt even closer to him. I read the Book of Mormon for only the second time in my life (the first time was only a few years prior). I felt his spirit and his love in those pages and in my heart. I finally started to do better at having scripture study, family prayer and FHE with my last 2 children. Slowly, I began to feel forgiven. He probably forgave me long before I ever started to forgive myself, but finally I felt it. I felt at peace. I feel that peace every day now. I can't go back in time and change anything, (I often wish I had a time machine for just that purpose) but I know that my Heavenly Father will make up for what I didn't do. He has already done it by sending his son to pay for my sins. For all of our sins. My Savior died to make up the difference that I can't make up. I know that somehow, everything is going to be okay, if I continue to keep my covenants and his commandments.

I love my family with all my heart. They are my favorite people to be around. I love when we're all together eating, and laughing, and talking too loudly. If you ever came to a family dinner at my house, you'll probably go away thinking we're the most obnoxious people ever. We probably are (and my people before you have thought so) . We don't care what anyone else thinks (except DD4 who is still a teenager hasn't outgrown her embarrassment that she even HAS a family). I love my husband and appreciate him for the good man, husband, and father that he is. He still makes me laugh after all these years. He still gives me advice that I don't want to admit is right, but later know that it is. He loves me and he loves our family. He has a testimony of the gospel that I have heard him express many times. I am so grateful and I feel so very blessed to have the wonderful life that I have, even if it's not always perfect.