I love this classic poem by Rudyard Kipling!


If
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or, being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;
If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with triumph and disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with wornout tools;
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on";
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch;
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run -
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man my son!

WHO IS CARRYING YOUR PACK?    

"Here.  Hold this," my husband said handing me a bulging back pack taller than my nine-year-old son.

The back pack carried sleeping bags, fishing poles, and mess kits, along with everything else he and our kids needed for a weekend hiking trip. I tried to put the pack on my back but it was so heavy it nearly knocked me over.

"Why is it so heavy?" I asked, jokingly and dropped it to the ground. He just smiled at me and then said,

"Because I love my children."

It is tradition in our family for my husband to take my kids on a back tripping up to Joan and Gem Lakes at the end of the summer. He has been doing this hike with his father since he was boy and now he shares it with our kids. This trip is quite an undertaking. Each back pack has to be methodically packed with just the right weight so the kids can carry as much as they can on their own. If our children's packs are too heavy, though, they won't make it up the steep incline leading up to the lakes. Thus, the reason for my husband's heavy pack. He has to carry what they can't.

I must admit that there is no way I could have carried that pack on my back for any period of time. But when my husband put it on his back, he made it look easy, not because it wasn't heavy. But because, well, remember what he said?

Because I love my children.  
  
I had never picked my husband's pack before. For the past five years, I've stayed at home with our youngest child while he hiked more than a mile and a half with the older kids up a steep and rocky mountainside carrying almost 60 pounds of weight on his back. Two sleeping bags, two tents, food for four, blankets, pillows, rain gear, clothing and that was only some of it. What did the kids carry? The soft stuff. Basically, their clothes. My oldest did carry a lot more in her pack this year and each year the other kids will be able to carry a little more as they get taller and get stronger. But for now, my husband willingly carries the heaviest pack.

Because he loves his children.

So this morning I awoke to this thought:  Let me carry your pack. It's heavy and I want you to be able to make it up that steep incline.

Who says that? Who pleads with us to let him help carry our heavy loads. Isn't that what Christ pleads with us every day? He packs on extra weight so our burdens may be light. And he does it willingly.

Heavenly Father wants his children to experience the thrill of mortality just like my husband wants our kids to experience the thrill of the Uintas. But as any good father knows, little ones can't always carry their pack by themselves and sometimes all they can carry is soft stuff.  

God gave us his only begotten son to carry the heavy stuff  because he loves his children.

Right now, my pack feels pretty light. It's almost as if I can't feel it. And it's because I know who is carrying it.

How grateful we should be that Heavenly Father knew we would need help carrying our packs. But Christ can't carry our packs unless we let him. So think about what is worrying you? What is overwhelming you? Is there anything that feels hard? If so, pack it up. Put it in the Savior's pack. He's willing to carry it. And He will go the distance, all the way up that steep incline, over those rocks, and through the trees until you reach your destination. And why? Why would our Savior do such a thing? Because Jesus Christ knows how much his father loves his children.

Because he loves our children, my husband carries a heavy pack. And I'm so grateful that he does.

Are you ready for wings?

Rip off the band aid! Just rip it off!



Not exactly the words I wanted to hear but they needed to be said. This morning, I brought my youngest daughter to her first day of kindergarten and "rip off the band aid" is what the teacher told ME to do.


"It will hurt for just a minute," she told me. "She'll be fine. You'll be fine."

At first it seemed cruel. To wave goodbye and walk away just moments after we arrived at the coat rack inside the kindergarten door. As the teacher showed her where to put her backpack, my daughter looked worried. Her uneasiness made me want to rip off my fake smile and say, "Forget this. We'll just do home preschool again." But I didn't. I couldn't. I knew she was ready for more.  So, I put on a confident smile knowing she would follow suit. And she did. It took her barely a minute to find a friend she knew and claim a spot at the cutting table. She was going to be fine. But was I?


I didn't think I could do it.  I'm very attached to this little one who clung to my leg like peanut butter on jelly. (Part of me wanted to cling to her leg!)  Secretly, I've been dreading this separation for weeks because I'm losing my little side-kick who’s been with me for five years while the other kids have been at school. Besides, turning over your child to a teacher you've barely met for 30 minutes at a meet and greet the day before begs a mother's trust. Was I ready? No. And Mrs. Scott could tell. She was a great coach, though. Rip it off, she said to me. It will hurt for just a second. I hated that thought and the anticipation almost killed me. But in the end it all turned out okay.

Once again things have changed at the Robinson household. Sometimes I wish we were like butterflies and had to spin our cocoon only once and be done with it. But instead, a mother's cocoon evolves and changes continuously and that's how God intended it.

As the mother of four children, change is what I do. My children are constantly changing and growing and because of that I seem to change a lot. I don't always like it. And sometimes it hurts when I feel the initial "rrrrrrip"! But it usually turns out to be the best thing that has ever happened.

The first day of kindergarten and I had three hours all to myself. At first, that sounded like heaven. But ouch! Ripping off that band aid hurt! I know my little caterpillar has a new pair of wings and that’s a good thing. In fact, it is a very good thing. But it will probably take me some time to embrace these new wings. It seems like just yesterday I was carrying my Zoebug in a shoulder pouch I referred to as "her house." I wanted to keep her as close to my heart as I could. And I still do. Before school, I gave her a little heart-shaped stone to put in her pocket while she was at school so when she missed me she could rub it and know that I was thinking of her. Funny thing is I had to buy two. One for her and one for me. (During those three hours, I had to rub mine three times.) I doubt she even thought about the heart in her pocket because she was so busy cutting, coloring, and singing on the blue rug. It's all good. Growing wings is good.

Rip off that band aid and you'll feel a little sting. But in the end you'll see the blessings of giving your child wings.