Category Archives: Deep Thoughts

Sunday Scribblings #111 Soar/Sore

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I lift him above my head: his mouth opens wide in a baby-grin and he laughs loudly, soaring above me, arms outstretched. I smile too, my heart memorizing the sound, the sight, and the feeling of chubby childhood joy.

***

I turn away: in my mind I still see the tears on his pumpkin-covered face and in my ears I still hear his constant scream of baby indignation. I sigh and grab a towel to wipe away the blood on my finger, wishing someone would kiss my sore better.

This is motherhood: a daily dichotomy.

Quote: Keeping a Journal

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One of the most helpful tools a writer has is his journals. Whenever someone asks how to become an author, I suggest keeping a journal. A journal is not a diary, where you record the weather and the engagements of the day. A journal is a notebook in which one can, hopefully be ontological. [A journal is] a place where you can unload, dump, let go. A journal is also a place in which joy gets recorded, because joy is too bright a flame in me not to burn if it doesn’t get expressed in words.

Madeleine L’Engle, A Circle of Quiet, page 197

Quote: Writing Practices

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I like the name writing practices better than Creative Writing. Nobody can teach creative writing: run like made from anybody who thinks he can. But one can teach practices, like finger exercises on the piano; one can share the tools of the trade, and what one has gleaned from the great writers: it is the great writers themselves who do the teaching, rather than the leader of a seminar. It doesn’t take long for the gifted student to realize that there are certain things the great writers always do, and certain things they never do; it is from these that we learn.

Madeleine L’Engle, A Circle of Quiet, page 60-61

Procrastination

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  • “Let’s go to lunch next week instead of this week.” I say to my friend. “Or we could go the week after that if it’s better.”
  • Why don’t we invite our visiting teaching sisters for lunch next month? This month is so busy.”
  • “Oh, I’ll read that book later,” I tell myself. “I can always renew it.”
  • “I’ll do a major pantry clean out next month,” I tell myself.
  • “We’ll go to the temple next Saturday.”
  • “I’ll take my Sunday School class members treats next week.”
  • “We can always see New Zealand on the next family vacation. Let’s just take a short trip this time.”
  • “No, we’ll go see Tasmania next month. Let’s stay home this weekend.”

And then we get a call: We want you to come to a new assignment in three weeks. In New Jersey. Nothing for certain yet, but will you plan for it?

Obviously, three weeks is impossible for an international move. But all of a sudden, the next weeks are limited; the next months are gone.

Last June, we entered Australia on a three-year visa. The project’s paperwork said through “September 2008,” but we hoped for two full years. I figured I’d have a walking and talking little boy. I figured we’d have visited all of Victoria and parts of Tasmania and New Zealand and maybe Sydney and the Gold Coast and maybe Ayers Rock. I figured our savings account would have grown (although those two dreams don’t really follow, a girl can dream!). I figured the housing market wasn’t going to tank and that the dollar would be worth a little more when we transferred our money back. I figured I had more time before I had to move my home across the globe again. I figured I could enjoy being cozy in our new home.

Of course, I am excited to be near family again, within a four-hour flight of both sets of my baby’s grandparents and all of my baby’s aunts and uncles. I’m excited to be able to get more variety in terms of consumer goods. I’m excited that things will cost less (relatively). I’m excited to choose a new car for myself. I’m excited to re-enter summer. I’m excited I might be able to go to my friend’s wedding in August. I’m excited that my family might actually call me when my phone number isn’t international. I’m excited that I don’t have to wonder how long we’ll be here (things have been a question mark for a few months).

But now I realize I have to start all over again: the third home and the third ward and the third search for friends in two years of marriage.

I’m realizing now that I shouldn’t have procrastinated being a friend. I shouldn’t have procrastinated making home cozy for my family. The end can, and does, come at any time.

What are you procrastinating? What “end” do you dread (and/or hope for at the same time)?

Lesson 12: Repentance is a Blessing (A Study of Twelve-year-old Behavior)

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I realize the 12-year-olds in my class are not committing murder or smoking or doing anything really bad. They are good kids. I may not have prepared my lesson as best as I could, but they really took me off guard yesterday. Here’s a rundown of my class yesterday (it’s kind of long):

(I’ll call the class Mary, Sarah, Elizabeth, and John, just for privacy’s sake.)

We started by reading Alma 38:8. Mary had forgotten her scriptures. Our meeting house library only has spare scriptures in Chinese.

  • Me: Alma had to recognize he’s sinned: he felt the pain of guilt. The first part of repentance is recognizing you did something wrong. Why do you think we need to recognize that?
  • Sarah: So you can repent. Duh! Ew! Stop–that is so gross.
  • [Mary has taken a pushpin from the bulletin board and is popping the blister on her toe with it. I decide to ignore her. Why? I don’t know.]
  • Me: Ok, let’s read Doctrine and Covenants 58:38. John, can you read that?
  • Sarah: Ew! Now I need to wash my foot! [She storms out of the room.]
  • Elizabeth: What happened? [That’s what I’m thinking too.]
  • Mary: I bumped her foot with mine! [I don’t blame Sarah at this point: Mary has been popping blisters on her toe. I would want to wash my foot too.]
  • Me: OK, so what those verses said: What do we need to do to repent?
  • Elizabeth: Confess and Forsake.
  • Me: Good!Can you write that on the board? [Elizabeth volunteered before class to be scribe.]
  • Mary: You dummy! Confess has two S‘s.
  • Me: Let’s not call names. It doesn’t matter how it’s spelled. What does forsake mean?
  • Mary: It means, well, like “For your sake.”
  • Me: Not quite. It means “to give up.” Why do you think we need to give up our sins?
  • John: So we don’t do it again. To show we’re sorry and won’t do it again.
  • Me, glad someone is focused: Right. To show we won’t do it again: we really mean it! Another thing we have to do is keep the commandments. (Can you write that on the board, too?)
  • [Elizabeth has by now drawn an elaborate design beside the list of steps of repentance. She’s also written CTR! CHOOSE TO REPENT!]
  • Elizabeth: Oh, what am I suppose to write?
  • [Great, has she heard any of this?]
  • John: Keep the commandments!
  • Sarah, storming back into the room: That was the grossest thing in the world!
  • Me: Anyway, as I was saying. We need to not do it again. So if we’re sorry we hit our sister and we’re repenting for doing that, we need to not do it again.
  • Sarah: Well, except, some things we will do again. Like, I know I’ll hit my brother again.
  • Me: Well, if we are sincere in wanting to repent, we need to stop doing it.
  • Elizabeth: But I have to hit my sisters!
  • Me: Remember how we talked about the premortal life where Satan wanted to let us return to Heavenly Father but he wouldn’t give us a choice? Instead, we came to earth under Heavenly Father’s plan with Christ as our Savior, so what did Heavenly Father give us?
  • Elizabeth: Our agency!
  • Me: Exactly! So you can choose not to hit your brother.
  • Elizabeth: No, I can’t.
  • Sarah: I have to hit my brothers.
  • Mary: There is no choice in the matter.
  • John: I don’t hit my brother.
  • Mary: You only have one brother.
  • Sarah: Yeah, I have six siblings. I have to defend myself.
  • [Sarah has five siblings. I correct her and she says, no, her dad counts as a sibling. Great.]
  • Elizabeth: I have to fight.
  • Sarah: Ew! Stop it! That’s gross. [Mary has renewed the pushpin technique. Now she’s pricking her fingers.]
  • Me: Mary, will you stop poking yourself with a pushpin?!
  • [Mary puts the pushpin back into the board and sits and sulks.]
  • Me, to Elizabeth: Well, if your brother is mean to you, what choices do you have?
  • Elizabeth: To defend myself.
  • Me: And what other choice?
  • Elizabeth: To defend myself.
  • Me: And…
  • Elizabeth: To fight.
  • Me: You can choose not to fight.
  • Elizabeth: No, they’ll all say “What’s wrong with you?”
  • Sarah: Right. I have to defend myself.
  • Me: Ok, so anyway, Heavenly Father’s plan is that we repent and that we actually feel sorry when we repent.

We also talked about making restitution (apologizing, making up for what was wrong) after we do something and we read some more scriptures, but I couldn’t get them to stop claiming they must fight with their siblings. They don’t believe me when I say they have a choice. I couldn’t get Mary to participate after I called her off of her disgusting pop-the-blister kick.

Now, I know I fought with my sister. But I know I chose to fight with her. I know when I still argue with people that I’m choosing to argue. It’s my fault just as much as anyone else’s. It takes two to fight. I also think family discipline has something to do with it. I know Sarah’s family — they are a bit violent to each other in church; I can’t imagine how they would be at home. Case in point: John, who claims he doesn’t fight with his older brother, is a perfect, focused class-participant (most Sundays).

I really don’t remember what was like being twelve. I asked my husband what I can do. His answer? Don’t teach twelve-year-olds.
Here are my questions for you:

  1. Are all twelve-year-olds determined to fight with their siblings?
  2. How do I emphasize repentance when they think they have no choice in the matter (other than using a better example)?
  3. Also, when a class member is being distracting and popping blisters or being gross, how do I ask her to stop without making her annoyed and sullen the rest of the class?

Lesson 12 of 45

Castles in the Air and Growing Up (A Little)

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It’s been a long time since I’ve read a young adult novel (other than Harry Potter, which doesn’t count), so when I picked up Louisa May Alcott’s Little Women this week, I was at first taken aback by the rosy, generic moral lessons within it. As I began, I didn’t think I’d have much to ponder, since it’s a reread for me. But I was wrong.

At first the moral lessons were a bit silly to me. For example, when the girls want a holiday week, without any chores, their mother agrees and lets them, knowing they will learn their lesson. Sure enough, by the end of the week, they are ready for chores again! If only lessons are really learned that way.

By the middle, though, I was finding myself relating to the teen angst as the girls began courting and dealing with each other and their life dreams. They plan their “castles in the air” for what they want to be doing in ten years, when they are — get this — between twenty-two and twenty-seven.

What’s your castle in the air for ten years from now? My castle in the air is a four-bedroom house with a fenced-in back yard, a few mature trees, and a few children swinging on a swing set and otherwise playing together. But I’ll go where ever Heavenly Father wants me to be and I’ll accept whatever little blessings he wants to send me (or not send me). I never envisioned Australia, and my life now is essentially my castle in the air. I don’t want my life changed too much. I am very happy.

As I was reading Little Women, I really found myself enjoying the story, as childish and “rosy” as it is. Then, during a scene when a character marries, I had a moment of bizarre realization: I’m not one of them. I’m already married. I have a baby. How am I relating to these girls?

It felt so weird to realize that I’m beyond that stage of life. My life has moved on.

Do you ever have moments when you look at your kid(s) or your job or your degree and wonder how you got there? I know I’ve lived each day to get here, but that moment just seemed out of chronological order. How did I get here already?

By the way, Nancy was the randomly selected winner for Buy Your Friend a Book week.

I Love General Conference

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I haven’t been reading many books or posting on my blog much this week. I’ve been distracted.

It began Sunday morning at 4:30 a.m.

As all of you were sitting down for 10 a.m. General Conference Saturday morning, I was asleep. It was 2 a.m. Sunday morning. My son awoke at 4:30 a.m., and after attending to his needs and putting him back in bed, I decided I couldn’t wait until next Saturday: I wanted to know who the newest Apostle was. I went online and found out.

D. Todd Christopherson, I read. How exciting! I thought.

I decided I wanted to hear how it was announced. Then I remembered that it was not even 5 a.m. I had to leave for church at 7:45 a.m., and I needed to stay awake during Sacrament meeting. So I went back to bed.

We went to church and came home. When we got home, I started to watch the first session. I am so grateful for the Internet! I could watch the solemn assembly Sunday afternoon in my living room. It was so special. I loved watching it, but I didn’t watch the whole session: there were other things to do.

Monday afternoon, what should appear in my feed reader but all of the mp3 files for the audio of four sessions of General Conference. I subscribed to the feed in December and promptly forgot about it, since, of course, it is only updated twice a year.

I couldn’t wait until Saturday. I listened to President Monson’s talks, then President Eyring’s and President Uchdorf’s talks. They were so excellent, and I was so inspired, so I listened to the rest of it, reverse alphabetically as it appeared in my feed reader. (I listened in reverse because President Thomas S. Monson was the last alphabetically and I wanted to start with him.) I did a lot as I listened’care for my son, work on photographs, etc. So I wasn’t just sitting around.

It has been great. I feel so uplifted and ready to be better. But I guess that’s the key: listening isn’t making me any better. I need to do what I’m learning! Listening doesn’t do any good for the world.

My favorites the first time around:

  • President Uchdorf’s talk (the faith of our Father, our Heavenly Father)
  • Elder Child’s talk on tithing
  • Elder Ballard’s talk to the young mothers
  • Elder Bednar’s talk on prayer
  • Elder Oaks’s talk on testimony
  • Elder Zwick’s talk on fortifying yourself

Which were your favorites?

I get to listen and watch all of them again Saturday and Sunday. (We need to be there this weekend.) What do I do for eight hours Saturday and Sunday as I watch them? I’m going to be sitting on an uncomfortable bench in the chapel.

Ah well; I’ll be inspired all over again. I love general conference!

What I Learned from the CIA

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As I mentioned when I read Michael Ruhlman’s The Elements of Cooking, I’ve also been reading one of his other books about food, The Making of a Chef. This book is Ruhlman’s behind-the-scenes look at what a “culinary education” entails, particularly what it takes to earn a certificate or degree at the CIA (the Culinary Institute of America).

I have become very interested in cooking and what makes a “good” cook. What does it take to be a “chef?” About one-third of the way through this book, I began to realize that I never want to be a chef: it does not sound like fun.

However, as I read about what a chef must learn, how a chef must prepare each day before the restaurant doors open, and how to approach each day in the kitchen, I began to think differently about food and cooking. Here are some concepts that I appreciate better now (I listened to the audio book, so I can’t give page numbers):

Mise en place

Ruhlman defines this in The Elements of Cooking as “literally, put in place;  the kitchen term for your setup, the gathering and preparation of all the tools and food you need to complete the task at hand.” In The Making of a Chef, Ruhlman discusses his time in the Skills kitchen at the CIA, learning to cut and prepare food. He discusses the time he spent working in the restaurants of the CIA, where he spent hours preparing his mise en place before the restaurant opened its doors and he actually began cooking. While I certainly don’t care how I cut my carrots, I was impressed with the time that was always given to make sure everything was ready to go before starting the grill or turning on the stove. As Ruhlman pointed out, if you have everything together before you begin, and you are familiar with the cooking plan (or recipe), then everything will fall into place when you begin cooking. If you aren’t prepared, then things could fall apart and you’ll find yourself “in the weeds.” If you are prepared, ye shall not fear. (Even nonfiction cooking memoirs are inspirational!)

Cooking is a series of problems solved.

I loved this concept, and it really is true:

  • My chicken burned on the grill; what do I do differently next time? (I always burn chicken on the grill)
  • My ____ tastes boring; what do I add?
  • This sauce isnt thick enough; how do I thicken it?
  • I’m out of ____; what do I substitute?
  • My _______ is [insert problem]; what did I forget?

I find myself wanting to solve the problems before they are unsolvable. (One chef in the book suggested that any food is fixable unless it is burned. Then you’re out of luck. You can’t un-burn it.)

What does it take to be a good cook? Basic understanding, passion, and balance.

I loved how balance was an essential part of being a cook in one chef’s equation. The chef told Ruhlman that those chefs that worked too much and didn’t do anything else really were not the best cooks. In my case, I think being a “good cook” is realizing that “good” is not the same as “perfection” and “cook” is not the same as “chef.” My family doesn’t need perfection, and they don’t need a chef. They need a mom and a wife who happens to prepare dinner every night.

President Metz (president-chef of the Institute) never eats anything he cooks without a critical eye.

I like the concept of being critical of my own food; if cooking is a series of problems solved (as discussed above) then I need to recognize the problems in order to improve on them. However, I don’t think it’s necessary to always eat critically. I’m not a chef; I expect to take some days off!

When we put food on the table, we make a value statement. Your own values and your own standards: that is all.

I think this is the crux of my goal in cooking. I want to be able to put food on the table that I feel good about. I will cook to my standards, accepting the fact that I will take days off from caring and critiquing what I put in my belly.

My Conclusion

This memoir is very different from the last Ruhlman book I read. In some respects, I recommend this book over The Elements of Cooking. Elements is a reference book for the more-confident cook. It is above me in some ways. This memoir, on the other hand, is a delightful look into the world of professional cooking and what makes the difference between a good cook and a professional cook. It helps me think about cooking in a completely new way. I think any home cook, any waiter, and any semi-professional cook could benefit from this inside look at cooking for the food industry. I needed that, probably before I read Elements. Now that Ive read The Making of a Chef, I feel I should go back and reread the essays in the beginning of Elements.

There is a lot to being a cook! Understanding the elements behind it is just part of it.

Winds-day and Lesson 11: Faith in Jesus Christ

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Yesterday, I watched a wind storm.

Paul was napping. I sat at my desk, at my computer.

When I heard a strong wind whip through the trees, I looked out. Our house is on a hill so I see trees for miles.

The sky was cloudy and gray. And there was quite a wind. Autumn leaves fell out of the sky–yellow and orange–but so did bunches of green leaves. A branch whipped across the roof. The neighbors’ garbage cans across the highway toppled over, the “for sale” sign was uprooted, and trees seemed to bend. Our lights flickered. One tree bent close to our home, and I heard something banging against our roof.

I worried: I rushed to Paul’s room.

Paul slept soundly. His eyes remained closed, and he sighed in his sleep. He brought his hand nearer his mouth and bumped his pacifier, which rested on the mattress now. He sighed again and turned his head to look at the wall. I heard the wind, but it was distant. All was calm.

I watched him sleep for a few minutes. Then I left his room, closed the door, and sat at my desk again. I don’t know why I panicked and raced to him during the wind. We were safe inside our home. The wind wasn’t going to knock down our walls: they are strong. We were safe.

But as I watched him sleep, I felt this sudden out-of-control feeling: He’s going to grow up. He’s going to go outside, into the world, away from me. Will he be strong enough against the winds, or will they topple him?

And now, my [son], remember, remember that it is upon the rock of our Redeemer, who is Christ, the Son of God, that ye must build your foundation; that when the devil shall send forth his mighty winds, yea, his shafts in the whirlwind, yea, when all his hail and his mighty storm shall beat upon you, it shall have no power over you to drag you down to the gulf of misery and endless wo, because of the rock upon which ye are built, which is a sure foundation, a foundation whereon if men build they cannot fall.

— Helaman 5:12

After a little while, the winds calmed, with only an occasional burst. The clouds didn’t retreat, but the sky lightened a bit.

And then there was a burst of wind, and a full-grown tree toppled over, right through our neighbor’s yard and our neighbor’s fence and our fence and into our backyard.

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As I’ve thought about the tree (and watch it sitting rudely on our lawn), I realized it was only after the worst of the storm was over that the tree succumbed. It had been weakened. In a very real way, the tree it wasn’t strong enough against the winds.

I had thought that the lesson for Sunday school this week was about faith; most of the manual discusses what faith is and examples of faith from the scriptures. But then I looked at the title: Faith in Jesus Christ. It’s not just faith; the first principle of the gospel is “faith in the Lord Jesus Christ.” Believing, a general faith, is not enough to sustain us through the “mighty winds” that the adversary will send our way.

We can have faith that the sun will rise tomorrow; we can have faith that a seed will grow. But we must have faith that Jesus Christ truly did atone for our sins. That is how we return to our Heavenly Father. It is only in and through Christ that we can return to Him.

Joseph Smith called faith “a moving cause of action” and “a principle of power.” It is not a passive concept. The power of faith is incredible: the walls of Jericho came down, Enoch moved mountains, Jared beheld the finger of the Lord. I think of what those people had to do to exercise such faith. Then I think of the power I can receive by exercising faith in Jesus Christ: the ability to return to my Heavenly Father, despite my shortcomings. Wow! That’s more than moving a mountain in my mind.

I must actively build my foundation in Christ, and I must teach my son to build such a foundation. I can only do that if I rely on my own foundation: I am imperfect, but through Christ, I can be perfect.

I must teach my son that he belongs to God, for he is a child of God first. God has entrusted his spirit to me. What a responsibility!

I suspect I’ll always want to check on him when the winds come, even when the day comes that I must let him go outside, into the world. How will his foundation fare against the “mighty winds?”

Lesson 11 of 45

Reading

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Here are some inspiring quotes I found when I was preparing for my enrichment night presentation.

D&C 88:118 “And as all have not faith, seek ye diligently and teach one another words of wisdom; yea, seek ye out of the best books words of wisdom; seek learning, even by study and also by faith.”

I love this commandment! But I realize it says seek, not read. We should be learning, not just page-turning, as I like to do.

“[Quotes D&C 88:118] Surely, such books must first include the scriptures. Next must be the words of prophets, seers, and revelators.”
–President Ezra Taft Benson, Ensign, Sept 1988

I found myself reading some of the Mormon blogs a few months ago — you know, the forums where individuals analyze general conference talks and discuss how they can personally apply them to their lives. As I began to spend my time doing that, I realized that I should be spending my time actually reading the words of the prophets. That is where the spirit is to be found, not in others’ analyses: I need to come to my own understanding, with the spirit to guide me. I should spend more of my time studying the scriptures and the words of the prophets, not necessarily what other people say the scriptures and the prophets say. There is a difference.

With the abundance of books available today, it is a mark of a truly educated man to know what not to read. Of the making of books there is no end. In our reading, we would do well to follow the counsel of John Wesley’s mother: “Avoid whatever weakens your reason, impairs the tenderness of your conscience, obscures your sense of God, takes off your relish for spiritual things, increases the authority of the body over the mind. The fact that a book or publication is popular does not necessarily make it of value. The fact that an author wrote one good work does not necessarily mean that all his books are worthy of our reading. Many novels and modern publications are corrupters of morals or distorters of truth.
–President Benson, Ensign, Sept 1988 (emphasis added)

There is a lot of trash out there. I’s disappointing when that is what wins the awards and praise, but sometimes it happens. I guess that’s the difference between things of the world and things of God. Just because I like one novel by a Nobel prize-winning author does not mean I should read others of theirs: some of them are just bad!

I read a book for a book club and I dismayed that it had a lot of “bad” scenes in it. I felt like I should finish it because the book club was going to discuss it. But I’ve decided I’m not going to do that again: it it’s bad, I won’t read it, even if it is popular or on an award-winning list or on the book club list.

Often when we hear about the evils of pornography, we think of pornographic magazines, movies, and Web sites. Because men are more visually oriented, such material seems to appeal primarily to them. Yet the sexually explicit literature targeted at women, who are more verbally oriented, can be damaging as well. Like visual pornography, such literature presents a warped view of sexuality and is arousing and addictive. It dulls our spiritual senses, which distances us from God, and it can impair our ability to have healthy, lasting relationships.
“Addicted to Romance Novels”, Ensign, July 2003

We walk out of movie theaters if they are bad. Why not walk away from a book? If a book is dulling our spiritual sensitivity, we shouldn’t be reading it — just like movies.

The following quotes are inspiring to me — and a challenge to make better choices in my reading and other time-consuming activities. There are many choices we can make between good and better and better and best.

“As an evidence of increased spirituality we become more selective in what we read. J. Reuben Clark said, ‘My rule now is, never read anything that is not worth remembering.’ Thomas Jefferson always read something ennobling just before he retired, ‘whereon to ruminate in the intervals of sleep.'”
–Elder Douglas L. Callister, Ensign, Nov 2000 (emphasis added)

“We should begin by recognizing the reality that just because something is good is not a sufficient reason for [reading] it. The number of good things we can [read] far exceeds the time available to [read] them. Some things are better than good, and these are the things that should command priority attention in our lives.”
–Elder Dallin H. Oaks, Ensign, Nov 2007 (paraphrased; emphasis added)

“Some people learn to read but don’t read. At some point in our lives, we learned to read. But are we reading? Are we growing in wisdom?”
–Elder Joe. J. Christensen, Ensign, Nov 2000

The only way that we may overcome the world is by coming unto Christ. And coming unto Christ means walking away from the world. It means placing Christ and Christ only at the center of our lives so that the vanities and philosophies of men lose their addictive appeal.

We no longer have the luxury of spending our energy on anything that does not lead us and our families to Christ. That is the litmus test for Relief Society, as well as for our lives. We are not women of the world. We are women of God.

—Sister Sheri L. Dew, Ensign, Nov 1999 (italic emphasis in original; bold emphasis added)

The following quote doesn’t have a lot to do with reading, but I love it because I feel it describes what I want to be. I think reading and learning is a way we can further develop our mother heart: that is why I make time to read, whether it be reading as I eat breakfast, reading as I feed my baby, or listening to an audio book as I make dinner.

What is a mother heart and how is one acquired? A woman with a mother heart has a testimony of the restored gospel, and she teaches the principles of the gospel without equivocation. She is keeping sacred covenants made in holy temples. Her talents and skills are shared unselfishly. She gains as much education as her circumstances will allow, improving her mind and spirit with the desire to teach what she learns to the generations who follow her.

If she has children, she is a “goodly parent” (1 Nephi 1:1) who lives and teaches standards of behavior exactly in line with the teachings of living prophets. She teaches her “children to pray, and to walk uprightly before the Lord” (D&C 68:28). Rather than listening to the voices and partial truths of the world, she knows that gospel standards are based on eternal, unchangeable truths. She believes that to be “primarily responsible for the nurture of [her] children” is a vital, dignified, and “sacred responsibilit[y]” (“The Family: A Proclamation to the World,” Liahona, Oct. 1998, 24; Ensign, Nov. 1995, 102). To nurture and feed them physically is as much an honor as to nurture and feed them spiritually. She is “not weary in well-doing” and delights to serve her family, because she knows that “out of small things proceedeth that which is great” (D&C 64:33).

–Sister Julie B. Beck, Ensign, May 2004 (emphasis added)