I'm not sure what you know about trench warfare (I didn't know much), but it was pretty horrific. Basically, at the time of World War One we were way better at blowing people up than we were at moving safely amidst explosions, so the opposing sides would dig trenches to sit and defend. In fact, defending was easier than attacking. Between the people with guns pointed at you and the barbed wire, any attack resulted in almost certain death.
In the famous Battle of Verdun in 1916, almost 700,000 people died. Fighting in trenches has become almost synonymous with the concept of the futility of war. It was dirty, it was protracted, and the conditions were apalling.
I have no experience with trench warfare. I am a stay at home housewife, after all. A few days ago I hurt my back picking up the dog toys, for heaven's sake. What I am familiar with are my own difficulties, which do not compare to trench warfare at all. For instance, my husband was scheduled to work this entire weekend, so I would be taking care of our four children, aged 7, 5, 3, and 1, alone. My husband works in the ER, so this is a regular occurrence for me. My four children are my joys, my little loves, my inspiration.
They also cry a lot.
Today was stake conference, which for non-mormon readers, means the entire region of church members gets together and goes to a 2 hour meeting with wonderful speakers, beautiful music and uplifting themes. Today's theme was … hmm, I'm not sure. I actually went to Stake Conference today. I fed and dressed my kids. I did their hair. I packed a 30 pound (I am not exaggerating) bag with snacks, drinks, books, toys, coloring books, pens and paper, diapers, wipes, and on and on. I dressed and got myself ready. I loaded everything into the car and I went.
I honestly don't remember much of anything at all that was said. In fact, there was a five minute period where I wanted to sit down and bawl on the floor. Literally. I almost did.
It's kind of my own fault, really. I arrived too late to find a padded bench. Most weeks, it would be a minor issue. Most weeks, I would be fine on the metal folding chairs. But I hurt my back a few days ago, and sitting on those chairs was (pardon the pun) very hard. Add to that frustration, a one year old who insists she sit on my lap and a bag I need to manage. Plus my kids all kept dropping toys, so leaning over to pick them up (while holding a whiny one year old) hurt my back even more.
I also have a kid who's potty training. We had to run to the bathroom to poop on the potty. There was a LOT of crying. Stake conference time fell during the exact time of my one year old's nap. I could go on, and on.
If you have young children, you are nodding your head because you may not have experienced every element I just listed, but you have corresponding issues that are at least this hard and you know exactly what I mean when I say that several times the same thought popped into my head:
What in the world am I doing here? I'm a moron for putting myself through this. I should have stayed home and put the baby down for a nap, taken some ibuprofen for my back, and let the other kids play.
I mean, you've all thought it. Maybe you've even done it. After all, if I'd stayed home, I wouldn't have needed to do my makeup and hair, get dressed, get the little nuts dressed, pack this bag and struggle through this. I could have read a book, made dinner, taken a nap. Anything but THIS!!
I had a very, very difficult 45 minutes there, from about 10:15 until about 11:00, and then I had a horrible 15 minutes after that. In despair, I noticed that my kids, not a single one of them, were even paying attention. None of the five of us had heard a word that had been said. No one had derived a single thing from this entire debacle. Around 11:30, I returned from the toilet trip and my one year old was so tired she sort of passed out on my chest, awake but blessedly not crying. My three year old was sitting on the floor jabbering and playing with toys (very messily) and I never ever let them do that, but they kept falling off the chair and I was too tired to fight about it anymore.
Something strange happened: I heard part of one of the talks.
I couldn't tell you much about that very fine talk. I know he discussed a lot. I know it was funny, and moving, and obviously very well prepared. I am new in this Stake and I have no idea who the speaker was. His son wanted him to be a professional wrestler, but for me, I was just delighted he had been asked to speak because something happened to me. The Spirit lifted my flagging soul and filled me with light. That might sound melodramatic, but I swear it's God's honest truth. I realized something then. When we are wrangling our kids, when we are slogging through the day to day, hour to hour, and minute to minute of our time with young children, when we feel like we are banging our head against the wall and we think the crying will never stop, we are fighting a war. We are in the trenches.
It might seem futile. There will be a lot of casualties. So far I've lost lots and lots of time. I've lost my own selfish wants. I've lost my figure, and my hobbies and so many many other things. As this war goes on and I will lose more and more. Sometimes I feel like I've lost myself, everything that made me who I was before I had kids.
In the New Testament Jesus said, "For whosoever will save his life shall lose it: and whosoever will lose his life for my sake shall find it."
That verse in Matthew 16:25 explains what is at stake in this war, in this trench warfare. It feels futile. It feels like we are stuck, making no progress and losing and losing. But we can't forget who we are fighting--Satan--or what's at stake. Satan will do most anything he can to win this fight because the prize is monumental, and Jesus Christ has already made the ultimate sacrifice for the prize: our immortal souls. Our children's live's, and our lives, too. I forget that sometimes, that I am doing this for my babies and for myself. I am losing my life in this war, and it is because of that loss that I will become what He wants me to become.
I testify to you that the trenches seem pointless. They seem futile. In World War One, they really might have been. Maybe it was the worst kind of battle at that time, but today, in our ages, if you are in the trenches with me, please hold on. You don't need young children to be in the trenches. You could be suffering the loss of a loved one, you could be fighting addiction, you could be battling a disability or struggling to make ends meet. Whatever the fight, if you are struggling to survive, you are down here with me.
My message today is a simple one. It's the same message that Christ has given over and over and over again. You are not alone, and just when you realize you've lost your life, you will find it again. This is a battle worth fighting. So tonight, after I dose a baby who now has a fever, and I go to my bedroom to lay down, I will be praying for all of you. Every mother and father in the trenches. Every son or daughter, every friend. If you are struggling in the trenches, I will pray for you and I hope you will pray for me. It is my sincere prayer that each trench fighter will experience that flash of brilliance tonight, or tomorrow, or every day, that shows you that one day this battle will end and all the misery will truly be worth it.
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