Download Print-Friendly Version

She was the first baby the stork brought.

Her delivery was induced by a phone call. Underweight but healthy, they told me. Two days old. Meth exposure. 

I frantically prepared the nest. I pulled out a box of clothes, most of which would be too big. I put a clean sheet on the cradle mattress. Then the case manager was at the door.

Our stork was a large woman with an aura of authority and, at that moment, annoyance. The directions I gave to our house had not been very good. The baby had become fussy during the long drive from the hospital. 

Baby had big brown eyes and wispy hair, perfect tiny fingers, and bitty feet shorter than my index finger. I already had four daughters, but she weighed several ounces less than the lightest of them at birth. She fussed with tight fists as I unfastened her from her car seat, her small body full of need.

It hurt to love her so instantly and completely. It was two weeks of midnights walking the hallway—shh, shh, shhhhh—and sloppy, sleepy 3 a.m. feedings before there was a scheduled visitation with her mother. I knew what we had signed up for. I knew I wasn’t her mother, not really. But Baby’s need eclipsed any resolve I’d had to hold some distance. I unapologetically fell. “Shouldn’t we love them recklessly?” I asked myself. What’s the alternative? An infant in a home where care is mechanical or half-hearted? I couldn’t sever just a piece of my heart to give her. It had to be all of it—beating like a hummingbird’s, maybe—but completely surrendered to loving her.

There is science to all of this, though I was just beginning to learn it as I lived it. Early attachments are fundamental for healthy brain development. We were created to crave connection. It’s a fundamental biological need. Dr. Bruce Perry, an expert on attachment theory, has written that “childhood experiences literally impact the biology of the brain.” Baby needed me and my family to be responsive, available, and nurturing. Nothing could be closed off. Nothing could be protected. A heart with no armor. Love on a tightrope, no net. 

I left feeling so conflicted. I wanted this young mom to be successful. I wanted the baby I already adored to stay with me. I didn’t know what was proper to want. I took my girls to the park to play while we waited out the visit. I snapped pictures while they climbed rock structures and dug in the sand. Time crawled. Finally, I rounded them up and returned to the library. Mom was holding her baby, and familiar adoration was palpable between them. For her, the time had passed too quickly. Another foster mom had advised me to ask for a photo at the first visit: I could keep it if the baby left our home or preserve it for the baby if her mother was no longer in her life. She told me you never know how rapidly things will change or how.

It’s the only picture we have of her mother. We never saw her again.

This wasn’t the end of the roller coaster ride. Although the rights of the biological mother were terminated quickly, establishing paternity took more time. More than 18 months passed before anything became clear. The case moved at the sluggish speed of the overtaxed courts. 

Those months were so vulnerable. Would she stay? Who would she go to if she left? There was potentially an interested grandmother. Shouldn’t she be with her family? After a year, though, weren’t we essentially her family? Dr. James Kenny, a psychologist with more than 50 years of clinical experience, has written that for foster children, bonding is possible after three months, probable after six months, and almost certain after a year. The stronger this bond becomes, the more damaging its severance is, causing potentially lasting harm. 

Had we reached the point where time spent with our family trumped real kinship? We knew she liked squash, but not green beans. We knew which diaper cream she had an allergy to. She held my index finger tight in her fists as she tottered around the room, and I cheered her first unassisted step.

Latter-day Saints have a powerful doctrine about the importance of families. Families are ordained of God and are central to His plan. In an ideal world where everyone chooses correctly, there would be no broken families. But we live in a fallen world where the chasm between the ideal and the real holds broken homes and shattered relationships. 

When we do this, we can’t expect the armor of God to keep us invulnerable to the pain we wade into. After all, what words describe the healing act of our Savior in Gethsemane and on the cross? “Which suffering caused myself, even God, the greatest of all, to tremble because of pain, and to bleed at every pore, and to suffer both body and spirit—and would that I might not drink the bitter cup, and shrink.”

If we are truly embarking on spreading the peace of Christ, we can anticipate that doing His work will require us to be exposed to at least a modicum of His agony. Being a foster parent was oftentimes agony. Beautiful, raw suffering. It taught me more about the deep complexity and power of God’s love for us and the lengths to which He will go to help us heal.

Those poignant first weeks as foster parents were merely an opening salvo for the wide range of pain and triumph, heartache and comfort that we would experience over the next 10 tumultuous years until we finally felt released from that calling, even as we were neck deep in the complexity of raising adopted children with post-traumatic stress disorder, disorganized attachments, and valuable, vulnerable hearts.

“Don’t fall in love,” the stork had cautioned. But isn’t that exactly what the Savior asks us to do? 

The post The Beautiful Agony of Foster Care appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

Download Print-Friendly Version

“The Family: A Proclamation to the World” contains only one direct quote from scripture:  “Children are an heritage of the Lord.” 

The word “heritage” stands out as somewhat unusual in current usage. Some translations use “gift,” while others use “inheritance.” The children themselves are the gift. Although the opportunity and responsibility of parenthood can feel daunting, the understanding of children as gifts from the Lord emphasizes both their divine origin and the blessings of bearing and raising them. 

As I have written previously, our society often emphasizes the challenges of rearing children. I can hardly consider myself an exception, since I am the author of an article on the challenges of raising a child with special needs. However, even as I acknowledge the challenges of parenthood, I believe that faith in the Lord and His teachings about the family calls us to recognize its blessings. I hope that such a focus can help change the narrative about raising children, giving those considering parenthood a fuller understanding of its rewards and demands. 

Not every interaction with children is pleasant. At times, children disobey, demand a great deal just when parents have no energy, and make it clear, both visibly and vocally, that they have not yet mastered basic manners and etiquette. It seems that whenever I start an in-depth or important conversation with my wife, at least two other voices immediately begin begging for our attention. These instances are trying, but they also provide important teaching opportunities. Finding the most effective way to teach my children is a rewarding challenge, like finishing an elaborate puzzle, but more satisfying. 

I recently read Psalm 127 to my sons, and I was struck by the final verses: “As arrows are in the hand of a mighty man; so are children of the youth. Happy is the man that hath his quiver full of them: they shall not be ashamed, but they shall speak with the enemies in the gate.” The language here is figurative. The image of arrows speaking with enemies could mean driving enemies away by force or threat—or, as my son said, “Speaking with them in ways they understand.” But I also see the enemies at the gate as more than rivals or thieves: they can represent the struggles of mortality. They include the perceived meaninglessness of life and frailty of human efforts that lead the writer of Ecclesiastes to remark that “all is vanity.” Children help us defeat these enemies because they are an eternal legacy. Our work with them extends beyond our lifetimes into the lives of our children and their descendants, and into eternity. The gospel gives us the promise of an eternal family, meaning that when we treasure our children, we are choosing “treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal” (Matthew 6:20). 

Another indirect blessing of raising children is an increased ability to prioritize. This clearer sense of priorities stems partly from the fact that raising children requires significant time. There simply isn’t as much time for other things. Although having less free time can be inconvenient, it also brings the compensatory blessing of a change in perspective that makes minutes and hours more valuable. 

Furthermore, raising children has led me to reflect on what is most meaningful. These reflections have given me the clarity I need to live deliberately. The changes I have made have been so meaningful that I ended a poem about my oldest son’s birth with the line “I have to wonder who gave life to whom.” At the same conference, I heard similar comments about prioritizing from my colleagues with children. They said that raising children has helped them eliminate less important things that previously used up their time. They expressed gratitude for the increased focus that comes with parenthood. 

One of the most important lessons I have learned from raising children is how much my spiritual growth depends on relationships. The growth, attributes, and strength that I seek spiritually do not come solely through personal effort or even solitary communion with God. It is in growing together that we follow the Savior. When challenges have pushed me to my limits, I have often found sustaining strength in family members. And increasingly, I find it in my children. Sometimes simply knowing that they trust in and depend on me is enough to sustain me. At other times, their pure faith and willingness to learn inspire me. 

The blessings of parenthood deserve more airtime. For me, paying attention to those blessings is not merely a matter of optimism but of faith in God, whose children we are raising. When we speak honestly about what raising children has given us, we offer those considering parenthood a fuller picture of the life they might choose. These blessings deserve a place in our public conversation as well as our private gratitude. 

The post What Children Give Us appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

But before the demands of the day began, Jesus started His day this way: “And in the morning, rising up a great while before day, he went out, and departed into a solitary place, and there prayed.” 

Our days may not include healing lepers or casting out devils. But like Jesus, we, as parents, face the challenge of having many people depend on us. Our daily demands may make us feel that our lives are impossibly full. 

Prayer helped the Savior meet the demands of His days. Jesus “went about doing good” because His Father was with Him. This connection helped Jesus with the challenges He faced. Our prayers connect us to God and help us meet our parenting challenges. The Savior’s example of turning to His Father in prayer is a pattern we can follow. 

Here are three things Jesus teaches us about prayer. 

Praying to Align with God’s Will

First, prayer can change us when we stop treating it as a means of controlling outcomes and begin to view it as a way to draw nearer to God.

It is easy to wish that Heavenly Father would grant our wishes for smooth parenting on demand. But while that doesn’t usually happen, He does listen, soften our hearts, ease our burdens, give us comfort, help us learn, and inspire us to find solutions. 

One young mother named Kenna changed her prayers, and her prayers changed her. When Kenna’s third child was suffering from ear infections and allergies, he had difficulty sleeping through the night. On the rare occasions that he would sleep through the night, the older two kids would often awake.

Kenna was totally exhausted. She kept praying desperately for her children to simply sleep through the night. But that never happened. She wrote: 

I would just walk out of the room after rocking the baby back to sleep, lie down, and hear his cries start again. “Heavenly Father,” I cried out in my heart, “I know that you have the power to heal, to raise people from the dead, to cause sleep to come over a person or an entire city of Lamanites. Why can’t you make my one little baby sleep? I am trying to do Thy work, and it’s hard enough with a good night’s rest, let alone without! Can you please help me get some sleep?” 

Over time, Kenna’s prayers shifted from a “grant me my wish” kind of prayer to one of acceptance of God’s will. She shared:

After some time of these increasingly frantic and repetitive pleas, I realized that I needed to change my prayer. “Please help him sleep, but if not, help me figure out what he needs. Help me get a nap tomorrow, or help me have enough energy to take care of the kids and get my things done at work.”

Once I changed my prayers, I was certainly less disappointed. I could also see that the Lord was helping me with all the other things I was praying for. I learned that He doesn’t always take our trials away. But He will help us through them when we change our request from “please take this away” to “but if not, help me handle it.”               

How many of us have had desperate, agonizing, long nights like those she described? Kenna felt less disappointed with the outcome of her prayers when she recognized that her sleep challenge would likely continue, but God would help her in other ways. 

Kenna also demonstrated the importance of learning to pray “but if not.” Using this phrase—and meaning it—in our own prayers to Heavenly Father shows our willingness to submit to Him. Although He may not remove our parenting trials, He will help us through them in His wisdom. He looks at the potential for our overall growth, not just our short-term comfort. We can still ask for what we desire, but if He has something else in mind for us, we can humbly accept it and know that He hears and loves us still. Kenna’s prayers changed her, and our prayers can change us when we are humble enough to align our will to His. 

Praying for Children by Name

Jesus prayed often throughout His mortal ministry. The way He prayed can help us more effectively pray for help as parents.

We see glimpses of Jesus’ prayers in the scriptures. Jesus prayed for comfort and to give comfort to others. He prayed when He blessed and healed others. He expressed gratitude to His Father when His heart was full of joy and turned to Him when His heart was full of sorrow. We, too, can turn our hearts to God through prayer throughout our day, following Christ’s pattern.

A few years back, I relied on prayer to get over a hurt caused by my daughter. She said something unkind, and though I tried to act like it didn’t bother me, it hurt. It wasn’t until I took this hurt to the Lord in prayer that my feelings began to change. 

As I said her name while praying, I could feel my heart softening toward her. Involving God helped me see her efforts and stay kind. The Book of Mormon prophet Alma taught that we should “cry unto God for all thy support; yea, let all thy doings be unto the Lord, and whithersoever thou goest let it be in the Lord; yea, let all thy thoughts be directed unto the Lord; yea, let the affections of thy heart be placed upon the Lord forever.” Elder David A. Bednar has taught that when we have a prayer always in our hearts, we can experience the following: 

We notice during this particular day that there are occasions where normally we would have a tendency to speak harshly, and we do not; or we might be inclined to anger, but we are not. We discern heavenly help and strength and humbly recognize answers to our prayers. Even in that moment of recognition, we offer a silent prayer of gratitude. 

Praying Between a Stimulus and a Response 

Prayer can also help us respond better to the stressors of our day by creating space between when something happens and when we respond. Children fight over toys and cry when they don’t get their way, toast burns, socks are lost, and all before eight o’clock in the morning! With so many stimuli coming at us so fast, noticing the space between a trigger and our response can make a significant difference. 

A stimulus is what psychologists such as B. F. Skinner call an object or event that elicits a response. The scriptures might refer to these objects or events as “enticements,” and today, we often call them “triggers.” To me, a trigger is anything that irritates me and could cause me to respond in an angry, combative, or harsh way. Our reactions to triggers may feel instantaneous and out of our control, but in reality, we choose how we respond.

In his foreword to the book Prisoners of Our Thoughts by Alex Pattakos, Stephen R. Covey quotes an unidentified author: “Between stimulus and response there is a space, in that space lies our freedom and power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our happiness.” Prayer can be a part of that pause between stimulus and response. It doesn’t have to be a long prayer, and usually it won’t be. But the act of calling upon God for aid or picturing the Savior in that space can help us slow down to avoid reacting to stimuli without thought.

This can be hard! It is often more natural to react without thinking. Someone says or does something to us, and we reflexively respond. But we are still responsible for our actions, even if we don’t put thought into them. As Elder Lynn G. Robbins taught, Satan would like us to “believe that we are victims of an emotion that we cannot control.” When we say something like “You make me so mad,” it can sound as if we are not responsible for our actions. Our kids may make a huge mess, and our conditioned response may be to yell. But our children didn’t “make” us yell at them, and the mess didn’t “make” us yell about it. We chose to yell. This power to choose allows us to take control of our responses and find freedom from both external and internal forces that try to rob us of our agency. 

When the scribes and Pharisees brought a woman who had been caught in adultery to Jesus, He remained calm despite the harsh words they hurled. Jesus didn’t answer them right away. He wrote in the dirt and waited until they were quiet before He responded. 

The scriptures don’t tell us why Jesus wrote on the ground, but His pause before responding stands out. It may have been to give Him time to think about how He wanted to act. Jesus lengthened His response time. When He did respond, He was in control of His emotions. 

We can also lengthen our response time. When children are upset, and the tension in the air makes us feel like our response needs to be immediate, we can slow it down by taking a deep breath, saying a quick prayer, and then trusting that the Lord will help us respond in a calm, positive way. 

We can practice lengthening our response time in simple moments. A while back, I asked my teen daughter to wash the dishes. She was not happy and exclaimed, “I’m not washing the dishes!” 

I could have responded immediately with, “Oh, yes, you are!” Instead, I took a breath, prayed for patience, and said, “I’m glad you know what your job is.” 

She reminded me how busy she was and that she didn’t have time, and I said, “I know you’re busy. Thanks for washing the dishes.” 

She huffed, and I ignored it. I simply put rubber gloves by the sink and smiled sympathetically as I walked out. I could hear her noisily getting ready to wash the dishes, but she was washing the dishes. 

Later that night, I thanked her for getting the job done, and she said, “Sorry, I overreacted. It didn’t take me that long.” I smiled and hugged her. It felt good to lengthen the space before I responded by letting Jesus in with a quick prayer. 

Through simple experiences like these with my children, I have learned that it feels good to lengthen the space before responding by letting Jesus in with a quick prayer. It may take time for this to feel natural, but by being patient and prayerful, Christ will help us lengthen the time between a trigger and our response, so we respond as He would. 

Making Prayer Part of Our Parenting Solution

Jesus often took time to pray, reflect, and center Himself. He didn’t wait for a problem to arise before He decided to be calm. He had likely made that decision during the time He spent with His Father. He acted rather than reacted to His challenges. His example can help us change our response to difficult situations. 

I still make mistakes and occasionally yell when things catch me off guard, but I know that through Christ I am more in control of my emotions than I used to be. When we make prayer a bigger part of our parenting, we can receive help with our responses, feel peace, and align our will with the Father’s. Jesus loves us, knows our hearts, and wants us to counsel with our Heavenly Father about creating space to act. And perhaps, as we follow the Savior’s example, our typical days can become something extraordinary, filled with His peace and joy.

This article is adapted from the author’s book Christ-Centered, Intentional Parenting, published by Cedar Fort Publishing & Media.

The post Parenting with Prayer appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

Download Print-Friendly Version

Foster care, at its core, is meant to protect children. But it only comes into play after something has already started to fall apart.

In other words, foster care is an intervention, not a preventive measure, and the foster system steps in when families can no longer safely stay together. Understanding foster care this way changes the questions we should ask. Instead of considering only how we can improve the foster care system, we should also ask how families and communities can help ensure fewer children ever need it.

National data show that neglect is by far the top reason children enter foster care. In 2024, neglect accounted for 55% of U.S. child removals. While every family’s circumstances are different, this trend often reflects more than the failures of individual parents. In many cases, it also reveals the absence of the extended family, trusted neighbors, and community support that can help struggling families before crises escalate.

For members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, that absence isn’t just a social concern, but a spiritual one. It reveals a gap in the kind of covenant responsibility that calls people to notice and care for one another before a crisis begins. This gap can be an uncomfortable truth to face, especially when children are involved, but it is not a problem we should ignore.

Safety vs. Continuity

Removing a child from an unsafe home can save a life. But the act of removing a child can itself cause trauma. Children develop their sense of safety and identity through steady, consistent relationships. When even short separations occur, children’s emotional development and sense of security can suffer. For many foster youth, the loss of family means lost history and belonging too. Imagine a child who only knows a series of foster homes. No “hometown” and no consistent siblings around the dinner table. To this child, a new foster house is just another stop, which cannot truly feel like a home.  

Foster parents frequently provide extraordinary care, offering children patience, structure, and real stability—often more than the child has ever encountered. These efforts genuinely matter, and foster parents’ willingness to open their homes and create placements that make kids who land there feel safe should be celebrated.

While foster care provides physical safety and opportunities for healing, it often cannot act as a complete substitute for the continuity of family, history, and community that children need to thrive. Even in the best placements, the child’s life is unavoidably interrupted in some way, which doesn’t always resolve when a child grows up.​

The Echoes Into Adulthood

Many adults who grew up in foster care carry effects of separation throughout their lives. While unique to each individual who experiences the foster system, questions about origin often remain years later—not all of which are about pain. Some are quieter than that, more about identity than injury, because understanding where we come from is part of understanding who we are. 

Who do I look like?

Why did this happen the way it did?

Do I have siblings somewhere who don’t know I exist?

​For some, these questions lead to years of searching for their biological family—trying to put together their story, just to confirm that they came from somewhere real, that there were people who knew them before the system did. And, with all they have faced, adults in this position may not know where to begin, nor have the tools or resources to go about a search like this.

There are entire organizations, networks, and services that help former foster youth reconnect with biological relatives: DNA testing kits, reunion registries, people-search databases, and even internet groups where adults search for siblings they were separated from in childhood.

That should tell us something about the lack of identity foster alumni face. They’re not only looking for information, but are trying to recover a perception of identity, find belonging, and looking for a bond that was never replaced, and often can’t be replaced—at least, not fully. But answers can help. 

Kinship Care

As of 2024, over 40% of foster children in the United States are placed with relatives or close family friends. These placements, referred to as kinship care, are no longer a marginal alternative. Kinship placements often preserve something the system itself cannot duplicate, as children placed with relatives experience greater placement stability, fewer school disruptions, and better educational results than those placed with non-relative foster families. They are also more likely to maintain connections to siblings, cultural heritage, and extended family networks.

These outcomes show that children benefit not simply from being cared for, but from remaining connected to people who already know them. 

Kinship care reveals both the strength and the limits of the system. When aspects of family networks remain, children are often buffered from some of the worst disruptions that accompany removal. And when those networks are unsupported, even kinship placements strain under pressure.

This shifts the conversation in an important direction. Improving foster care will always matter, but so will strengthening the relationships that make kinship care possible before families reach a breaking point.

Systems vs. Relationships

Unfortunately, any system large enough to make an impact must function at scale, which changes what care looks like in practice. Decisions must be documented, legal standards consistently applied, and thousands of cases managed across communities with very different circumstances, sometimes by people who have never met each other or the families they’re deciding about. Children can become part of a process, and families can become case files. That framework is necessary, but often it is too far removed to resolve all issues at hand.

The people within that system often do remarkable work. Caseworkers regularly carry overwhelming caseloads while navigating heartbreaking situations, and foster parents open their homes to children they have never met. Their compassion and sacrifice deserve recognition, and without the structure, the inconsistency would cause different harm.

Even so, caseworkers are still operating inside a framework that wasn’t designed to center relationships and personalize outcomes. It was designed to manage risk. Those aren’t the same goal, and the gap between them shows up in ways that are hard to measure but easier to feel.

No public institution can build the kind of lifelong relationships that children need to flourish. Systems, by design, cannot replace relationships, or create a sense of belonging that a human needs. This limitation is not a failure of foster care, but reflects the reality that the foster care system is designed to respond to broken relationships, not to replace them.

And that raises a more difficult question.

What is the Goal?

If relationships are what children ultimately need, why are they so often missing before the system has to intervene? When a family starts to fall apart, there are often few people close enough to notice. And fewer still who feel like it’s their place to say anything.

Perhaps that is the harder challenge foster care exposes. The child welfare system exists because some relationships have already broken down. 

The goal isn’t to get rid of foster care, or to diminish the extraordinary work of foster parents or caseworkers, who often step into unimaginably difficult circumstances with compassion and sacrifice. Rather, it recognizes that they are being asked to repair losses that began long before they arrived. The foster system is necessary, and when homes become unsafe, it can save children’s lives. But we can appreciate the foster system while still understanding its limits— foster care was never meant to bear the full weight of meaningful, personal family connection. That work belongs to families, neighbors, and communities willing to know one another well enough to notice hardship before it becomes tragedy. 

We are stewards of one another, called to notice and act in the ordinary moments of life. 

For Latter-day Saints, this idea should feel familiar: people are responsible for one another not just in principle, but through everyday care and paying attention to each other’s struggles. It starts with whether we’re willing to be the kind of families, neighbors, and communities that don’t disappear when things get hard.

Because once relationships get replaced by systems, you can manage the outcome. But you can’t recover what was lost. And the people who know that best are the ones still looking.

Ultimately, the goal isn’t to eliminate foster care but to create communities in which fewer children ever need it. Gospel teachings compel us to act early. This might include mentoring a child, noticing neighbors in need, supporting grandma raising grandkids, or becoming a licensed foster parent. By supporting at-risk youth, we can help ensure that the day a caseworker knocks on a door never comes. 

The post Foster Care and Community Failure appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

Download Print-Friendly Version

I couldn’t believe I yelled at my five-year-old for spilling milk. It happened so fast. The milk jug just slipped out of his hands. What a mess! 

Milk covered my son and the floor, and I felt frustrated. My daughter sensed the tension and rushed out of the room. My baby’s wails rang out. The milk spiller was in shock and scared of what I would do next. Everyone was upset because I was yelling—again. 

Before my husband and I had kids, I vowed never to be a yeller. But somehow I had become one. I wondered what would happen in the future if I hollered about insignificant, accidental things like this. Telling myself not to yell wasn’t enough, but what could I do?

This is parenthood, where showers and sleeping seem optional, and an overwhelmed parent sometimes serves tears for breakfast when milk spills. Realizing I wanted to change what I was serving, I began studying how the Savior’s example could help me with my parenting triggers. Each of our parenting journeys is different, but our source for comfort, peace, and direction can be the same. Jesus shows us the way in all things, especially in parenting. 

An Inspired Lesson

After the milk incident, I spent the next couple of days in a fog, discouraged by how I had handled things. I knew I could do better, but how was I going to “fix” this part of me that yelled when I felt stressed and overwhelmed?

The question “What would Jesus do?” came to mind, but my mind went blank. I thought of the loving Jesus who was kind and compassionate, but I wasn’t sure this version of Jesus could help me with my current dilemma. 

That Sunday, the incident still weighed on my heart during a Sunday School lesson about the Savior and the woman caught in adultery. I had always concentrated on the Savior’s compassionate response to the woman. But this time, the way He dealt with the judgmental scribes and Pharisees caught my attention. 

The difference between how the Savior responded and how the scribes and Pharisees handled this situation was notable. The scribes and Pharisees were ready to argue and came pointing their fingers at the woman to stir up trouble. (I have to admit, they reminded me of my kids when they accused their siblings of misbehavior!)

But Jesus didn’t let the actions of the scribes and Pharisees determine how He would respond. He decided to respond intentionally in positive, calm ways rather than react in anger. Jesus didn’t react. He acted.

Agency and Anger

We choose how we act when confronted, disappointed, frustrated, or caught off guard. As Elder Lynn G. Robbins, a General Authority in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, taught, one of Satan’s cunning lies is to “dissociate anger from agency, making us believe that we are victims of an emotion that we cannot control.” When we say, “I lost my temper,” it implies we were not responsible: someone else “made” us act out in anger. But although we may be strongly provoked, we choose whether to let anger escalate and dictate our behavior. 

Jesus understood this and gave us an example to follow. John wrote that “Jesus stooped down, and with his finger wrote on the ground, as though he heard them not.” The scribes and Pharisees were so busy shouting accusations about the woman that they could not listen. Jesus understood this and didn’t shout over them.  He waited for them to be quiet. When Jesus ignored their outburst, it seemed as though it did not affect Him. This was not the reaction they expected. And so in their stunned, quiet state, His simple words were enough to teach “He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone.”

Practical Preparation

Staying calm during the outbursts of others isn’t easy, but it can quickly dispel anger. Dr. Glenn Latham researched this Christlike approach. He wrote: “I have been astounded to find that if parents remain calm, empathetic, and direct even in the face of outrageous reviling, 97 out of 100 times, on the third directive, children will comply.” It amazes me how consistently my children’s anger disappears after their third attempt to engage me in an argument. If I stay calm, their anger fades.

Another thing I realized is that Jesus didn’t just decide to be calm when problems arose. He took time to pray, reflect, ponder, and center Himself often. This may have been why He went to the Mount of Olives before going to the temple. When Jesus woke in the morning, He may not have known that angry men would confront Him while He was teaching, but He was prepared to respond intentionally. 

I also discovered that our trouble spots often occurred at the same time and were about the same things. The Lord prompted me to make some intentional changes, like establishing a nightly routine that helped everyone know what to expect. A healthy afternoon snack reduced tears before dinner. When milk spilled at breakfast (again!), I learned to take a deep breath, say a quick prayer, and picture the Savior before responding. This helped me to stay calm and in control of my actions (most of the time). 

Leading with Love

From studying this Bible story, I realized I had developed the mistaken belief that yelling was necessary in parenting because it seemed to yield immediate results. I also recognized that, in the long run, my lack of self-control could provoke anger and resentment in my children. By not abusing my power, I could build a better relationship with them. 

Love and compassion were key to the Savior staying calm. Just imagine how scared and embarrassed the woman caught in adultery must have been. Jesus understood this. When we are compassionate, we try to feel what others may be feeling and consider how we would want to be treated. This softens our hearts, allowing us to respond with empathy rather than anger. I thought this aspect of the Savior wouldn’t help me with my dilemma. I was so wrong. Our charity towards others helps us approach contention differently. 

Jesus loved the scribes and Pharisees. I had overlooked this. These contentious men were also God’s children. Jesus was patient and looked for the best way to reach them. 

Jesus’s questions and calmness helped these men consider their own actions. Jesus gave them time to reflect while He bent down and continued writing in the dirt. His question pricked their hearts. It was something the men couldn’t argue with, and they went away. 

Jesus also modeled a vital parenting principle: Jesus reproved in private and praised in public. After the accusers left, He knelt near the woman and asked her questions. He didn’t congratulate the accusers for finding a sinner; instead, He encouraged the woman to change: “Neither do I condemn thee: go, and sin no more.” Condemnation would not have helped this woman to change, but the Savior knew that love could. As the Joseph Smith Translation notes, “the woman glorified God from that hour, and believed on his name.” Love brought about lasting change.

A More Excellent Way

What can I do to bring about lasting change? Learning from Jesus’s example, I can ask my children better questions instead of just telling them what to do. Giving children the responsibility of thinking about their own actions can help them learn to choose good for themselves. 

The milk incident happened over twenty years ago, and I am still trying to master my actions. Once in a while, the “yeller” returns, but I have made progress. I now view the times I get upset as opportunities to grow instead of an excuse to feel bad.

Recently, one of my daughters was having a rough morning before a volleyball tournament. She yelled about the early hour. She yelled about not being able to find her “stupid” socks. And she yelled about having to go to her sister’s “stupid” tournament. 

I chose to stay calm and compassionate. I didn’t argue or try to fix her “stupid” words in the moment.

A few days later, she asked me, “Mom, why didn’t you yell back?”

I told her, “I’m trying to be more like Jesus. He frequently had people yelling at Him, but He didn’t yell back. He chose to be calm instead of reacting in anger.”

She smiled and said, “Mom, you did that the other morning. I think I can do that, too.”

The Savior’s example of staying calm inspires. When we respond as He did, we not only become more like Him, but we invite others to feel His love and follow Him. We feel the joy that only comes from following Him. I may still occasionally burn the toast and undercook the eggs, but thanks to the Great Tutor, the “tears for breakfast” are becoming a thing of the past.

The post Tears for Breakfast appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

Download Print-Friendly Version

“I feel so sorry for you.”

My relative’s words took me by surprise. We were enjoying an afternoon together at a big family gathering, immersed in a conversation completely unrelated to her abrupt and pitying sentence.

“Oh?”

“You must be so bored,” she said with compassion. “You’ve spent so many years on your education—reading the most difficult texts, solving complex legal problems. I can’t imagine how monotonous taking care of babies must feel compared to that. Do you ever miss the intellectual stimulation?”

Her tone was sincere. She genuinely worried I might not be enjoying my decision to put my legal career on hold—my decision to dedicate all my time and energy to my children. She wanted to make space for me to voice any frustrations or regrets.

But I had to tell her the truth: “Actually, parenting is the most intellectually stimulating thing I’ve ever done.”

And I meant it.

My relative’s words could have been my own five years earlier, when I assumed that life as a stay-at-home mother would be mundane, a waste of my potential, something I was too “smart” for.

At the conclusion of my bachelor’s degree, I dove headfirst into LSAT study, then entered law school, and then enrolled in every possible extracurricular. I set the stage for an illustrious legal career.

When my husband and I decided to welcome our first baby into our family halfway through law school, I didn’t expect much to change. Sure, I would have a child to take care of, but there was no way this little person would derail me from my ambitions.

Or so I thought.

Nothing could have prepared me for how wildly my first daughter would take over my heart and soul. As her birth approached, my legal career started to look less like the burning flame I thought it was and more like a meager candle—dim compared to the roaring sun of my daughter’s existence.

These feelings only escalated after Brea’s birth. The sacred trust of introducing another human into this world enveloped me. When I should have been studying for law school, I immersed myself in parenting books, striving to refine my personal parenting philosophy. The insights I gained lit up my mind and heart more than any legal text ever could.

I hung onto my career as long as I could. I graduated from law school, studied for and passed the bar exam, and worked part-time for a year. But from the moment Brea took her first breath, almost any time spent away from her was maddening. Listening to her cry for me while I worked—even though I knew she was safe with my husband—tore me to pieces.

When our second daughter, Scottie, was born, I quit my job as an attorney and changed my legal license to “inactive” status. And I haven’t looked back. Yes, legal work was incredibly intellectually challenging, but I haven’t lacked for intellectual stimulation one bit. If anything, stay-at-home motherhood feels more intellectually engaging than my career ever did.

In the months since my well-meaning relative suggested motherhood might bore me, I’ve reflected continually on why my answer was such an emphatic “not at all.” These reflections have turned into a list of all the ways motherhood fills my intellectual cup. I made this list for myself as a reminder of all the ways my mind can expand, even when my days might look outwardly mundane. But I’ve also felt compelled to share this list with other parents, especially parents wondering whether stepping away from paid work will mean stepping away from intellectual life.

My goal is not to tell any family what to do. I firmly believe that every family should pursue a life that aligns with their talents, interests, and values, in consultation with the Lord, regardless of societal or cultural norms. But I hope this list excites those who have chosen to parent full time: I hope it helps them revel in the opportunities that childrearing provides. And to anyone else, I hope it offers a different view of stay-at-home parenthood—the unveiling of a dimension beyond  dirty diapers and dino nuggets.

Motherhood Engages the Mind through Interpretation

Consider Your Child’s Perspective

“Therefore all things whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them.” Matthew 7:12

One of the most challenging yet rewarding intellectual opportunities parenting provides is the chance to grow in compassion.

It isn’t easy, especially when your child is acting in a way that you could never imagine yourself acting. But asking yourself the right questions can get the gears turning:

• If I were acting the way my child is, why would I be doing it?
• If I were the child in this situation, how would I want an adult to respond to my behavior?
• What might be the good intentions behind this behavior?
• What unmet need might be driving this behavior?

As I have asked myself these questions, even some of my toddler’s most confusing behaviors have become understandable. Perhaps hitting the baby is her attempt to get attention and connection. Sometimes “pushing my buttons” is really just her trying to find a way to play.

Compassion doesn’t make harmful behavior acceptable. But it does help me understand and address the root causes of that behavior. And often, it turns down the emotional volume of the situation. It puts me into a collaborative, solution-oriented mindset rather than a defensive one.

Get Curious About Your Own Behavior

“But let a man examine himself.” 1 Corinthians 11:28

As a parent, I’ve taken a page out of my toddler’s book and am constantly asking myself the age-old question:

Why?

I’ve come to question everything that I do, especially when it’s impulsive or reactive. I don’t do this in a condemning way, but rather with curiosity and compassion. Where did I learn this response to a child’s behavior? When did I learn that this is what a “good” parent does, says, or looks like? If I were to treat an adult this way, would that go over well? If I were treated this way, would I feel inclined to trust and cooperate—or to resist and shut down?

As Roslyn Ross, author of “A Theory of Objectivist Parenting,” put it well: “Raising children is an act of philosophy.” When we become conscious of why and how we do the things we do, childcare can become an intentional expression of our most deeply cherished values.

Motherhood Engages the Mind through Attention

Journal

“I will remember the deeds of the Lord.” Psalm 77:11

A journal has the power to romanticize the mundane. I use mine to catalog the moments that make each day sparkle: the hilarious things that Brea says, the way “mama” was Scottie’s first word, the memories of pen pal–ing, fort building, and flower picking—all collected into my own little whimsical volume.

A journal is also a tool for mental rehearsal. In mine, I reflect on my most challenging moments as a parent and write out how I intend to respond to similar moments in the future. Writing out a game plan makes it easier to act in a way that I’m proud of once I meet the heat of the moment.

Indulge in a Sense of Awe

“O how great the goodness of our God.” 2 Nephi 9:10

Albert Einstein said, “The most beautiful experience we can have is the mysterious.” Nothing is more mysterious or beautiful than a newborn baby. When my first daughter was born, I was constantly awestruck by the miracle of her existence and the mystery of who she was and who she would become. Even the tiniest developmental steps felt like magic.

As our kids get older and our families grow, it can be easy to lose this sense of awe. But the truth is that every child at every age is just as worthy of wonder. Our kids are constantly changing, each day unveiling another piece of their unique spirits. Reminding myself of this truth helps me see beyond whatever the stresses of the day are and instead bask in the blessing of watching my children unfold right in front of me.

And often it is my children’s examples that remind me how else I might indulge in the awe and wonder of life. Hearing my kids point out all the wonders they notice as we go on walks or drive through town reminds me how much I’ve been taking for granted, and how much I could be using my brain to celebrate beauty instead of lamenting inconvenience.

Practice Presence

“Take therefore no thought for the morrow: for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself.” Matthew 6:34

Amidst the modern world’s accelerating pace, parents have the opportunity to slow to the (literal) crawl of brand-new people. Our children show us the pace that humans are biologically wired for.

I enjoy practicing the art of being present without preoccupation. Finding moments to be with my children without any ulterior motives—no desire to teach, distract, entertain, or manipulate. Just taking them in; learning their hearts.

Motherhood Engages the Mind through Growth

Make Talent Development a Family Affair

“Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven.” Matthew 5:16

As parents, we sometimes obsess over stuffing our kids with a toolbox of talents. We simultaneously enroll them in ceramics, violin, gymnastics, and lacrosse, hoping our children grow into prodigies or Olympians.

But what if talent development were more of a team effort? What if it were less about parents managing their children’s careers and more about spending quality time together—time that is genuinely enjoyable and talent-enhancing for both parent and child?

For me, this looks like letting Brea measure and stir, sharing my passion for cooking delicious, healthy food. It’s challenging myself to improve my own lackluster drawing skills while Brea hones her mastery of the crayon. It’s reading a novel while nursing Scottie, with Brea nearby, flipping through picture books. It’s my husband taking Brea to the skate park in the evenings, letting her zoom around on her scooter while he practices skateboard tricks.

Set Flexible Goals

“Wherefore, ye must press forward with a steadfastness in Christ, having a perfect brightness of hope.” 2 Nephi 31:20

In our efforts to help our children “become something,” it’s easy to forget that we, too, are still in the process of becoming. Setting personal goals has been integral to my own sense that I am still “myself” as a parent.

Yet parenting requires flexibility, and one of the biggest learning curves for me has been learning to pursue my goals and plans even when they inevitably get derailed. Sometimes, a dirty diaper demands to be changed before a podcast episode can be recorded or a 5K can be run. The good news is that flexibility is a hallmark of mental health. While goals can foster self-improvement, learning to navigate unpredictability also boosts self-efficacy.

Strengthen the Muscles of Your Character

“But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance.” Galatians 5:22–23

I have grown to enjoy practicing all the traits I want to embody—patience, kindness, confidence—especially when they are tested. I have come to see each tantrum, “power struggle,” and milk spill as a workout for my character: an opportunity to dig deep and be the person I want to be, even when resistance is high. Although none of us will be perfect when we do this, each challenge is an opportunity to get stronger.

And when we are not in the midst of a “character workout,” we can work to cultivate our internal dialogue. I am learning to speak to myself with compassion and empowerment—the exact same way you would want your kids to speak to themselves.

See Through the Savior’s Eyes

Most poignant to me is how parenthood has driven me to the Savior. I’ve gone beyond asking, “What would Jesus do?” and now contemplate, “How would Jesus see, think, and feel in this situation?” I can think of nothing more intellectually engaging than trying to mirror the mind and heart of Jesus Christ.

I am only two and a half years into my journey as a parent. I don’t have it all figured out.

But this is why parenting is so intellectually fulfilling for me. Each day meets me with an abundance of lessons to learn. I get to figure life out, all over again, alongside my children. Teaching my kids what it means to be human is cracking me open and forcing me to learn the same lessons. It is challenging, humbling, and more rewarding than I could have ever imagined.

And while I am confident I’ll one day return to the legal career that once filled my intellectual cup, I’m more than satisfied with the overflow God is pouring in during this crayon-filled season.

The post The Intellectual Life of A Stay-at-Home Mother appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

Download Print-Friendly Version

When did parenthood become just one lifestyle option among many—and what gets lost when it’s framed that way?

Such a shift certainly has its positives—allowing people to choose is not in itself a bad thing—but current narratives discourage having and raising children. Media and public discussions often emphasize the burdens of parenthood. For just one prominent example, in 2024, U.S. Surgeon General Vivek Murthy issued a warning that parenting can present a “public health concern” because of the stress and mental health challenges associated with it. 

Other commentators have pointed out that a generation learned to “dread motherhood.” These trials are very real. We bear broad responsibilities in our communities to help reduce the loneliness and stressors of parenting. 

But if we discuss only the problems, we are not creating a more accurate picture than if we only rhapsodize sentimentally about the pitter-patter of little feet. We shouldn’t ignore the deeper reality: parenting is both struggle and joy, and part of our covenantal relationship with God. Couples who are trying to decide whether or not to have children need an honest, balanced look at parenting that examines both its challenges and its abundant blessings, as well as God’s wishes for His children about their children. 

Parenthood as Burden vs. Parenthood as Commandment

The Family: A Proclamation to the World is unambiguous: God commands us to choose to bring children into the world in the proper order. The Proclamation affirms that the commandment “to multiply and replenish the earth remains in force.” If we are tempted to consider such teachings outdated or superseded by new conditions, recent prophetic teachings have also reinforced the doctrine. In October, President Dallin H. Oaks, then the President of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, taught, “The national declines in marriage and childbearing are understandable for historic reasons, but Latter-day Saint values and practices should improve—not follow—those trends.” The commandment remains relevant, and seeing the obligation to bear children as a commandment represents a fundamental reframing. 

A commandment is different from a social mandate or a biological imperative since commandments include personal accountability before God. Scripture teaches us that when God gives us commandments, He also makes it possible for us to obey them (see 1 Nephi 3:7). Therefore, parents do not face the challenges of bearing and rearing children alone. They are promised the assistance of the Almighty. Furthermore, commandments require honest effort rather than absolute success (see, for instance, Doctrine and Covenants 124:49). Those who for one reason or another are unable to have children in this life but who have tried can be comforted that they are under no condemnation. 

Choosing to have children is only the first step. Parents then have responsibilities throughout their children’s lives. These responsibilities can seem daunting, and some potential parents may feel reluctant to assume such a level of responsibility. However, The Proclamation, even while impressing on readers the seriousness of these responsibilities, also presents them as manageable tasks. A fascinating passage lays out basic parental responsibilities:”Children are entitled to birth within the bonds of matrimony, and to be reared by a father and a mother who honor marital vows with complete fidelity.”

The word “entitled” is typically used negatively. This is particularly the case in the public language of the Church. For example, Oaks has taught, “Entitlement is generally selfish. It demands much, and it gives little or nothing. Its very concept causes us to seek to elevate ourselves above those around us.”

The Family: A Proclamation to the World is an unusual case in which “entitled” is used not to criticize an attitude, but to instill one. While we should not generally feel a right to special privileges, an exception is made for children. They have a divinely appointed right to be born into a family welded together through mutual commitment between husband and wife. 

The stance on marital fidelity in The Family: A Proclamation to the World represents another important reframing of our perspectives. Marital fidelity is actually as much about children as it is about husband and wife. Therefore, personal fulfillment is not the foundation for a happy family. Rather, the foundation is the teachings of Jesus Christ. 

Such a view of the family implies the sacrifice of some personal desires, perhaps even needs. But the message of Christ’s Gospel is that sacrifice proves eternally more satisfying than seeking our own fulfillment, as Jesus taught:

“If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross⁠, and follow me⁠. For whosoever will save his life shall lose it: and whosoever will lose his life for my sake shall find it.” (Matthew 16:24–25). 

Choosing Parenthood with an Eternal Lens

While the demands of parenting can seem daunting and even all-consuming, the Proclamation helps us to see them as manageable. Its call for community support and individual adaptation provides the practical tools necessary for implementing its teachings in the life of every family. 

It presents mutual fidelity as the baseline for creating a happy family. We can start there knowing that God will help us accomplish the other responsibilities He has given us and that He will be merciful to us as we give our honest effort. Such a view of parenting can help us to see that it is not only possible, but also rewarding.

The post Choosing Parenthood, the Hard Joy appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

Download Print-Friendly Version

On a recent trip to Cuenca, Ecuador, volunteering with the Orphanage Support Services Organization, I spent a lot of time at an “hogar infantil” (children’s home) with some particularly adorable and naughty kids. For each shift, we packed a bag full of games, art projects, and activities to do with the children. Most of the time, the kids were well behaved, but at this specific orphanage, we had to keep a tight hold on zippers to prevent little fingers from stealing. We spent a lot of time playing, but we also unfortunately spent a lot of time breaking up fights. 

I was confused by the difference between this orphanage and the others where I had served. The tías (“aunts” or caretakers) were just as outnumbered, the nutrition was comparable, and they had better resources for play than many of the places I had visited. The homes that these children came from were not significantly different from those of other children.

I was able to identify a clear and increasingly obvious differentiation, along with some solutions supported by emerging research.

Screens Shape Behavior More Than We Think

The connection between behavior and screen exposure is an emerging field of research in family science, especially with the emergence of a generation in a media-saturated environment. Today’s parents are better equipped to prepare for and handle these additional challenges than any of the past generations, due to our life experiences growing up in the digital age. This, however, is dependent on our willingness to take responsibility for our children’s development—a responsibility affirmed in The Family: A Proclamation to the World. 

Studies have shown that there is a vital connection between disruptive behavior and screen exposure. A recent analysis of kindergarten students indicated that children who were given more than two hours of screen time daily experienced a lower ability to see things through to the end and an increase in atypical behaviors, such as being depressed or unhappy. Even aside from technology, it is no secret that attention span is on the decline. Additionally, I am sure we are all aware of today’s mental health crisis, in which approximately 18.5% and 19.1% of Americans have symptoms of depression and anxiety.

I have witnessed these trends among my peers and even in my own life. Ever since making my first social media account in high school, I have found it harder to concentrate and have struggled more with symptoms of anxiety. Many of my close friends and associates battle low self-esteem, pornography use, and mental health disorders. Although these concerns cannot be solely blamed on the influence of technology, we cannot deny that it has had major negative effects on the way we think, speak, and behave.

Strategy 1: Collaborative Restrictions

Unfortunately, it seems that the negative effects of social media and other forms of technology are unavoidable. As early as elementary school, many assignments have been converted to online platforms, and even the strongest parental protection filters cannot prevent negative influences from surfacing in online searches. So, what can we, as current or future parents of young children, do to protect, prepare, and enable our children to succeed? How can we use technology as a developmental tool rather than merely accept it as a necessary evil? I propose an interactive approach to digital parenting involving active mediation strategies, specifically restrictive methods and co-use mediation.

Restrictive methods include tools such as filters, time limits, electronic tracking software, or even limitations on where in the house devices are permitted (for example, bedrooms and bathrooms). Although the idea often brings up feelings of constraint or authoritarianism, parental restrictions can actually be effective when executed correctly. One recommended strategy is to hold age-appropriate discussions between parents and children concerning the purposes and dangers of technology and the personality and developmental status of the child, allowing the child a certain level of autonomy over what restrictions are appropriate.

For example, a conversation might look like this:

Parent: *Explains that technology is necessary for the child’s schoolwork and might be used to communicate with friends, but that it can also become a distraction in both academic and social progress. Also chooses to explain or review the dangers and prevalence of pornography.*

Child: *May ask clarifying questions or add observations about their needs and uses for technology as guided by the parent.*

Parent: *Gives suggestions of what restrictive methods may be used and explains their benefits and pitfalls. Asks the child what he/she thinks is appropriate for his/her circumstances*

Child: *Adds his/her input and comes to a conclusion which can either be approved by or further discussed with the parent.*

Research shows an associated improvement in parent-child relationship satisfaction, an increase in socioemotional orientation, higher-quality parent-child communication, and even a decrease in time spent watching TV or using electronic devices with the application of this approach when addressing technology use and other issues facing youth and children.

From personal experience, I suggest a word of caution when using restrictive methods. Adolescents are brilliant detectors of hypocrisy. If parents choose to apply generalized restrictions to the family, they should also be willing to follow these restrictions. Failing to do so could create resentment on the part of the children or adolescents, who may perceive such an action as unjust and refuse to comply.

Strategy 2: Co-Use Mediation

Another research-supported suggestion for encouraging child development through technology is sometimes called co-use mediation or guidance. Some studies even suggest that parental co-use is the most effective protective measure to avoid or minimize the negative effects of media. Co-use mediation, as the name suggests, involves the use of technology alongside children or adolescents.

I experienced this method first-hand as a missionary for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. The standards we were invited to follow included Safeguards for Using Technology, found in Preach My Gospel chapter 2, which discusses being accountable to each other as a companionship and only using devices when the screen is visible to both companions (with the exception of personal matters such as communicating with family). Although extreme, I learned from experience the benefits of this program, which changed my habits for the better.

The application of active co-use mediation is associated with lower levels of aggression, risky sexual behavior, and substance use, as well as increases in parent-child relationship quality and social-emotional connections. Evidently, parental mediation strategies have the potential to benefit both children and parents.

Co-use is also a doorway to redemptive uses of media. Digital tools can amplify positive messages. 

Parental co-use admittedly requires much more work and time commitment on the part of parents. I acknowledge that for some families, applying this approach may be infeasible due to the demands of careers and other activities. As a result, these principles may be adapted to fit the needs and circumstances of individual families.

As previously discussed, technology is associated with many negative outcomes, including poor behavior, mental health challenges, and a lower attention span. When considering parenthood, these obstacles can feel overwhelming and impossible to prevent or overcome. However, as we engage proactively with the rapidly developing research on the subject and practice improving our own habits, I believe we have the potential to positively shape child development and create better outcomes, strengthening our families and communities.

The post Parenting in the Glow: Reckoning with “Screen Time” Childhood appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

Download Print-Friendly Version

One of the most significant aspects of parenting, and most daunting, is the role we take in shaping who our children grow up to be. We model beliefs and behavior. The associations they build from what they observe and what they experience alongside their parents necessarily leave a lasting impact. In a culture where religious identity is in decline, it’s important, then, for parents to understand that the faith story they live is the one their children will one day tell. Our faith tradition offers rich opportunities for parents to transmit religious identity regardless of what our own faith journey has been.

As the son of a convert, my father’s faith journey has often been something I’ve considered while I reflect on my own. This has been especially true as I recently entered fatherhood myself.

My father attended church when he was a child, until his parents divorced. No reason was given for their sudden non-attendance; it was just another outcome of their shifting lives. When he started dating my mother in college, and observed her family ending the day together with scripture study and prayer, it stood out to him as a “good practice.” 

By the time I came along, the third of five children, the gospel as taught by our church had saturated my father so completely that even today I cannot imagine one without the other. 

Growing up, I knew the gospel because I knew my parents. This mirrored relationship between my parents and the gospel they raised me in extended into my teenage years. I wrestled with my faith like any adolescent wrestles with their parents. Was I too sheltered? Was I confined by circumstance into being religious? Was my devotion to the Church just about finding comfort in familiarity? Like any teenager, what I really longed for was personal identity.

It’s been a decade since I returned from my mission. Today, my faith is deeply personal. It has evolved in ways I could not have expected. Because of this, I’m sensitive about respecting others in their own expressions and observances. If I’m being honest, the personal nature of my own testimony has made it hard for me to know how to teach the gospel as a matter of principle, the way I had as a missionary.

While my son will be a third-generation member on my side, his mother is “pioneer stock.” He will have more cultural and generational support than anyone in my family. Neither of my parents served missions. Both of his did. He has two sets of grandparents who have entire lifetimes marked by gospel living. While I’ve always reflected on the way my father’s conversion inevitably led to my own, I wonder what about my conversion will impact him. 

I worry how, within the context of my shortcomings, I will raise him to understand the gospel, so that he can truly choose it for himself. I don’t want him to merely grow up grounded in a denomination or steeped in a theology of my making. I want him to grow into a relationship with his Savior, trusting everything else will flow from there. I know that is the only way it will become something that is truly his. Just as my father’s faith is his, and mine my own.

But more important than that is the living testimony that believing parents pass on to their children on where they can turn to grow a relationship with Christ.

When we read of Lehi’s own account of his dream, we read that the first thing that happens to him after being filled with joy by the fruit of the Savior’s love is that he “began to be desirous that [his] family should partake of it also; for [he] knew that it was desirable above all other fruit.” I don’t know how successful I will be as a parent. But I am grateful to have examples, in the scriptures and in life, who show me that the measure of a successful parent is the Savior’s love we reflect back to our children. If we show them, and invite them, then as Lehi’s son Jacob later taught—they too can be free to choose.

The post The Faith of Our Fathers: More Than Tradition appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

 Meeting David’s needs has become a challenging priority for us as his parents. There are two types of challenges associated with David’s special needs. The first is logistical and deals with the “what” and the “how” of taking care of him. He has a number of appointments to arrange and attend; he has sensory aversions and desires that are as difficult to understand and predict as they are to satisfy. These challenges bring secondary ones: while there is no end to the resources and tools that professionals recommend, our budget is not similarly infinite.

The second type of challenge is existential and deals with the “why” of our experiences. We have felt a sense of loss during the process of discovering David’s disabilities. It stems partly from the fact that he used to be more verbal and interactive with us. As he retreated into himself, we felt like we had lost the son we originally had. Extensive behavioral and occupational therapy have helped him to be more present and interactive, but still not to the degree that we remember from the first two years of his life, let alone that of a neurotypical child of his age. The loss that we feel is also related to our own expectations. There are many stages of life and experiences that he will simply not have. That is a difficult prospect for parents to face. 

We want our son to have a full life and, more selfishly, we want to be able to go through it with him. While the future is unpredictable—especially where David is concerned—it is not out of the question that his care will occupy us for the rest of our lives. Even now, his care shapes all of our plans, determining what jobs we can take and where we can live. It will probably also influence our retirement plans and even factor into our estate planning. In addition to the daunting logistical problems of how to make all of this happen, there are gnawing questions of “why” in all of this. Why can’t we communicate with our son? Why does it have to be this way? 

In both our logistical and existential challenges, we have been helped by caring professionals, loving family and friends, and not the least by The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Church attendance presents logistical problems of its own, but the Church has helped make it possible and worthwhile. David’s regression and diagnosis coincided with the 2020 pandemic. Therefore, we were learning how to care for him at a time when church attendance was impossible. When we returned to church after pandemic restrictions were eased, it became clear that we wouldn’t be able to just drop him off with teachers as before. During Primary class on his first day back, David became visibly upset and one of his teachers attempted to comfort him. David responded by biting her on the cheek. We were embarrassed and felt bad for the teacher, but she not only handled the situation with dignity and compassion but also met with us to discuss methods of how to care for David. We spoke with his therapists for additional advice. Once we made sure to send David with the right supplies, such as toys that meet his sensory needs, it became much easier for him to sit through class. His teacher continued to take good care of him, and was not (to my knowledge) bitten again.

Members of the Church have also helped David without being formally assigned to do so. Outside of Sundays, church members have volunteered to watch our children so my wife and I could take care of important responsibilities or go on hard-to-arrange dates. They have also been vigilant during times David has gotten away from us. David has a tendency to elope or run away, and he has a talent for finding the right moment to do so, even when we think we are watching him closely. On one such occasion, he escaped from us during Sunday church services. Word spread quickly that David was missing, and members of the Church mobilized to find him. I left the church building to see if he had tried to walk home, and immediately over the hill came a man from the congregation carrying David. 

There are many more such examples of logistical help, but perhaps most importantly, church members have been loving and accepting of our boy. I can’t count the number of times David has gotten away from us and run to the front of the chapel during a song, sermon, or prayer. It is embarrassing to chase after him through the pews, but the congregation has responded to this and other such behaviors only with encouragement, support, and understanding. 

Beyond the acceptance and love of ward members, the specific teachings of the Church have helped us with the existential aspects of our challenges. There is a natural and irrational tendency for parents to blame themselves for their children’s challenges. As David was withdrawing into himself, my wife worried that he was doing so because of resentment for the attention she was giving to his younger brother. Having a formal diagnosis provided clarity in this matter, but we have found true comfort in Jesus’ words to his disciples about the man born blind: 

His disciples asked him, saying, Master, who did sin, this man, or his parents, that he was born blind? Jesus answered, Neither hath this man sinned, nor his parents: but that the works of God should be made manifest in him.

We are watching the works of God be made manifest in our son as we receive answers to our prayers for him.

Some of our prayers have been answered differently than we hoped they would be. We feel blessed that David is receiving the best available treatment, and we have been helped by many people. Even with these interventions, however, the challenges remain. While David’s ability to communicate has somewhat improved, we still celebrate if he says a complete sentence. He spends most of his time withdrawn and he still likes to run away. Unlike the man born blind, David has not been healed miraculously. The teachings of the Church help us, however, to put those challenges in perspective. 

A prophet in the Book of Mormon shared words that I often think about in terms of David: “I am like as yourselves, subject to all manner of infirmities in body and mind.” This prophet, a king, was trying to show his people rhetorically that he wasn’t better than them, that they were all on the same level. In doing so he defined human experience as partly consisting of all manner of infirmities in body and mind. Therefore, while specific details of David’s situation are unique, they also reflect the universal lot of humankind. We have found comfort in the fact that we are not alone in our challenges.

Most importantly, the teachings of the Church provide a framework for understanding who our son is. We believe that every human being is eternal, that we all have spirits that existed before we were born and will continue to exist after death. We believe that everyone born on earth chose previously to follow the plan of God in spite of obstacles. Our David’s challenges, therefore, are not merely the result of a genetic accident but are part of the design of our all-wise and loving Heavenly Father. One of the leaders of the Church, Elder Jeffrey R. Holland, highlighted this principle in a touchstone sermon on mental health entitled, “Like a Broken Vessel.” 

It is crucial to remember that we are living—and chose to live —in a fallen world where for divine purposes, our pursuit of godliness will be tested and tried again and again. Of greatest assurance in God’s plan is that a Savior was promised, a Redeemer, who through our faith in Him would lift us triumphantly over those tests and trials, even though the cost to do so would be unfathomable for both the Father who sent Him and the Son who came. It is only an appreciation of this divine love that will make our own lesser suffering first bearable, then understandable, and finally redemptive.

We don’t understand everything about the designs of God, including those related to David. But we trust in Him because we know He is our loving Heavenly Father. And we take comfort in the knowledge that David’s disabilities are not part of his eternal essence, only part of one stage of his eternal progression.

I bear witness of that day when loved ones whom we knew to have disabilities in mortality will stand before us glorified and grand, breathtakingly perfect in body and mind. What a thrilling moment that will be! I do not know whether we will be happier for ourselves that we have witnessed such a miracle or happier for them that they are fully perfect and finally ‘free at last.’

This promise makes parenthood not only possible but also ennobling for us. 

One day I took David out of the house because he felt overwhelmed by the number of relatives visiting our house. The place we usually go on Saturdays for horseback riding (his favorite form of therapy) was closed due to the weather, so I took him to the aquarium.   While there, I chased him to keep him from running away, helped him to stand in line at one of the exhibits, stood and appreciated the penguins with him, and tried (unsuccessfully) to stop him from biting himself when he was upset. After I finish writing this, I will sweep up the Goldfish crackers he threw on the floor and, by trial and error, find something more substantial for him to eat. The logistical and existential challenges continue. However, because of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, threads of meaning and faith run through all of the challenges, and we have both human and Divine sources to turn to for help. Tomorrow I’ll sit next to David in church. If he gets upset, I’ll probably leave the chapel and take him for a walk through the halls. When I see other parents with children doing the same thing, if they have a free hand, I think I’ll give them a high-five.

The post The Struggles and Grace of Raising a Special Needs Child with the Help of Faith appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

The Eternal Covenant Family 

“The family is central to the Creator’s plan for the eternal destiny of His children.” Home-centered, Church-supported gospel ministry is not a latter-day vision or recent initiative but a determined re-invigoration of family centrality. A long litany of scripture and prophetic teaching centers the covenant responsibilities of the family. “Children are an heritage of the Lord,” and parents have always held responsibility for both teaching their children and counseling them for repentance (D&C 68:25-27, 93:40; 1 Nephi 1:1, 8:37; Mosiah 4:15; Alma 39:11-13). Adam and Eve taught their children all things God had made known unto them. Anciently, the Lord commanded the children of Israel to teach their children the Lord’s laws and covenants (Deuteronomy 6:5-7, 11:19, 32:46; Psalms 78:5-7; Proverbs 22:6, 23:13; Isaiah 54:13). In the New Testament, parents are primarily tasked to bring up their children “in the nurture and admonition of the Lord.” The Book of Mormon is replete with examples of parents—e.g., Lehi (1 Nephi 2), Jacob (Enos 1:1), Alma the Younger (Alma 36-42)—counseling and teaching their children for repentance. The Family Proclamation states that “parents have a sacred duty to rear their children in love and righteousness … and teach them to … observe the commandments of God” and that mothers and fathers “will be held accountable before God for the discharge of these obligations.” 

Thus, we are not charting new ground here but rather illuminating and elaborating a doctrinal reality that has always existed and been respected by the Lord’s prophets and apostles, but which parents may need to more fully shoulder again in these last days if our aspirations for eternal family are to survive.

Some thus abdicate to the Church the fullness of their covenant responsibility and opportunity. Perhaps a few local leaders have reluctantly or willingly been complicit in this, taking over or stepping in for parents when they really needed to help parents to step up, not step aside. 

Shoring Family Ministry

Parents can be strengthened tremendously as they unite with bishops or other church leaders and work together to ‘learn the ropes.’ Bishops can center the family in their ecclesiastical ministry, inviting, enlisting, mentoring, and supporting parents in more fully rising to their covenant role, which has been central to the Church of Jesus Christ from the beginning. Bishops can view their ministry and every interview through the broader, encompassing lens of the family with the question, how can the family be a part of this, and how can I support the family through this? Centering the family in the Church can include using ecclesiastical interviews and ministry to re-envision and reinvigorate the family as the central and fundamental unit of the Church (as well as of society)—through an ecclesiastical–family council orientation to ministry.

For bishops and other church leaders, centering the family begins with a spiritual conviction and testimony concerning family that flows into a determined mindset, putting the family in the foreground of every thought, process, and action—not de-centering the Church in its sphere, but seeing ecclesiastical ministry as a profoundly supportive adjunct to the family while priesthood leaders remain primary in terms of their priesthood keys. Centering also includes valuing and honoring parents’ place in counseling, supporting, and assisting their children, including in repentance.

Parents have long been encouraged to be fully engaged in their children’s and teens’ goal-setting and goal-striving, from Primary on through Young Men’s and Young Women’s activity. An informal bishop–youth–parents council is another logical component of family-centered, Church-supported ministry for repentance and spiritual growth. We seek to envision simple steps to put into practical action the doctrinal centering of the family in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Centering the family finds expression in as simple a thing as bishops and other ecclesiastical leaders consistently encouraging and facilitating youth in being open with their parents about their struggles, striving, and successes.

Only a few priesthood holders will be called as bishops. For all, the family is our primary tutorial for the love that God has and the life that God lives. Our covenant relationships are our stretching and exalting opportunity, given by God. Our conclusion? We can perhaps do a better job of centering the family in ecclesiastical ministry. 

An Informal Bishop–Youth–Parents Council

The late Elder M. Russell Ballard urged priesthood leaders to seek “strength in counsel,” calling upon them to continuously invite and prayerfully consider the counsel of their councils. He expressed his confidence that more inspired leadership would result. He related an occasion where a leading church council was wrestling with a problem: “President Elaine Jack (then-General President of the Relief Society) said, ‘You know, Elder Ballard, the sisters of the Church may have some good suggestions on how to better prepare the youth for missions if they were just asked. After all, you know, we are their mothers!’”

Surely, one potential yet underutilized “council” per se in the Church is a Bishop–Youth–Parents council. Though not formally mentioned, it is a natural council. Surely bishops’ inspired leadership could be magnified as they invite mothers and fathers to offer their insight concerning their children. Parental insight includes developmental awareness, understanding regarding how their teens will likely respond to counsel and consequences, and the kind of support that can best encourage and sustain their youth. An informal bishop–youth–parent council is challenging and daunting—and boundaries of stewardship must be carefully delineated, understood, and honored—yet we believe the benefits can make the mutually prayerful effort worthwhile. As parents offer insight that only they may have—from their enduring relationship and intimate knowledge of their sons and daughters—they can also respect and sustain their bishop in his calling and stewardship. It is also important and valuable to listen to our youth, who also have valuable insights into the problems they are facing and approaches that might more effectively help them. We believe youth, parents, and bishops can be blessed, inspired, and magnified as they counsel together. Such an informal council can invite the perfect love and inspiration of our Heavenly Father and Savior, Jesus Christ. 

Shared, collaborative ministry holds forth the promise of both magnifying and refining each respective ministry as bishops, parents, and youth counsel together, benefiting from their combined wealth of knowledge and experience with their youth. Recent changes acknowledging parents’ right to be present in bishop–youth interviews and respecting parental involvement further nudge toward a bishop–youth–parents collaborative approach.

Still, it sounds like a lot of work! Yet, while the time investment of such collaboration is undoubtedly heavily front-loaded, in the long run, bishops may find that their load is lightened as parents are enabled more and more to take up their charge and successfully help and counsel their children and youth. Thus, while it is certainly understandable for the bishop or parents to feel that the time demands are simply too great and instead opt to fly solo, there are risks there, too. Further, opportunities may be forfeited to strengthen an entire family and their church ties as well. Rather than neglect or ignore both the challenge and the opportunity, we invite an experiment upon the possibilities.

Along the way, roles and boundaries may need to be clarified. Yet ultimately, a unity of purpose and action can develop that magnifies ministry all around. Telephone-game experiences leading to misunderstanding, confusion, hurt, and sometimes loss of unity can also be better avoided through an informal bishop–youth–parents collaborative council. To spark imagination and inspiration, we present several stories about some of our dear youth and invite everyone to consider how bishops, youth, and parents can work together without crossing authority lines while also giving our youth all the support that can be mustered by both parents and priesthood leaders. These vignettes are amalgamations of real-life experiences but unattached to any individual bishop–youth–parent relationships, and names and specific dialog have been altered. We have no intention of being exhaustive in the stories we present, only representative of a few possibilities.

Similarly, and importantly, our intent is not to be prescriptive toward church leaders, parents, or youth but to highlight possibilities of action. We are following the brethren, not getting out ahead of the brethren. We are not innovating but rather illuminating a doctrinal and covenant reality of God’s eternal plan and family responsibility, which has always been central to the teaching of the apostles and prophets and which has received renewed and invigorated emphasis and urgency by President Russell M. Nelson.

Bishops, youth, and their parents working together can decide what will be best for each child. None should (nor do we) seek to “steady the ark” of the covenant stewardship and calling held by another. Our aim is simply to invite us all to create and capitalize on opportunities for leaders to support and sustain parents, youth, and families and for youth and parents to support and sustain those who preside over them in the Church.

A Little Bit on the Context of Youth Counseling

As we contemplate an informal bishop–youth–parents council, it is important to symbolically prefigure those relationships. As depicted in this picture taken at the Orem Temple, bishops and parents are both needed to provide essential support to youth during their developmental years. 

A significant literature on neurobiological development suggests that teenagers’ brains will not be fully developed until around the age of 25. Additionally, teens are encountering powerful temptations for the first time, often right alongside intense personal spiritual awakening—which for quite a few includes a very real burden of toxic perfectionism and shame, a characteristic feature of the teen brain. Because of this, teenagers are often susceptible to hiding their shame in secrecy, and they may feel unworthy of help from outside sources, which can lead to isolating themselves spiritually. Teens’ emotional reasoning leads them to see their spiritual struggles out of all proportion. What may not seem like a cause for emotional upheaval or a spiritual crisis for parents, leaders, and mentors may, in fact, be so for our youth and can become a spiritually catastrophic spiral of toxic shame. 

The emotional and spiritual support of everyday-available parents and bishops is vital to our youth’s will and ability to stay on the covenant path. The opportunity for unified, mutual support on all sides of a bishop–youth–parents triangle begins with negotiating, establishing, and sustaining open lines of communication. We discuss these efforts in Part 2 of this series.

The post When Bishops and Parents Unite: A Family Church and Ministry appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

Maternal leadership is critical for reducing maternal and neonatal mortality rates, promoting maternal and child health, and empowering mothers and families. According to the World Health Organization, approximately 300,000 women die from pregnancy-related causes each year. Many of these deaths could have been prevented through better access to vaccines, health education, and skilled birth attendants. Latter-day Saints understand deeply just how important motherhood is, so we are in a unique position to lead out in maternal activism. 

Many Latter-day Saint mothers have heeded this call. Catherine, a mother of six from Chad, became a volunteer vaccinator to protect mothers and babies from maternal and neonatal tetanus (MNT), a deadly disease that kills thousands of newborns every year. She was motivated by her faith and her love for her children to join the MNT elimination movement led by UNICEF and the World Health Organization. She helped vaccinate more than 3,000 women in her community and inspired other mothers to join her cause.

The Relief Society sisters in Nepal received training on how to prevent and treat common pregnancy complications and emergencies. They learned skills such as measuring blood pressure, checking fetal heart rate, identifying signs of infection, managing bleeding, and more. They also shared their knowledge with other women in their communities. Their training helped save lives when people in their community needed timely care.

Latter-day Saint Charities, the humanitarian arm of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, has played a significant role in promoting maternal advocacy and activism around the world. Since its founding in 1985, Latter-day Saint Charities has provided aid and support to people in more than 195 countries, with a focus on helping those in need regardless of their religion, race, or nationality.

One recent example of Latter-day Saint Charities’ maternal advocacy is their partnership with UNICEF to improve maternal and neonatal health in South Sudan. The project aims to train more than 1,000 midwives and health workers on life-saving maternal and neonatal care practices, provide essential medicines and equipment, and support the establishment of community-based sustainable health care programs.

These examples illustrate the diversity and impact of Latter-day Saint women’s maternal activism and advocacy. They demonstrate their courage, compassion, wisdom, faith, and leadership in serving others and fulfilling their divine roles as mothers and disciples of Christ. Maternal advocacy and activism are essential for promoting the health, education, and well-being of mothers and children around the world and reversing the trend of fewer and fewer individuals choosing motherhood.

The success of the women of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in this area serves as a valuable model for how to create lasting improvement on these issues worldwide. 

Perhaps most notably, Latter-day Saint women are empowered and lead out on these issues. While the popular perception is often that Latter-day Saint women are disempowered, these examples (and hundreds of others) suggest that the reality on the ground is substantially different. The three most recent General Presidents of the Relief Society have all included emphases on maternal health. President Linda K. Burton advocated for assembling newborn kits.  President Jean B. Bingham led the Church’s collaboration with UNICEF. Current General Relief Society President Camille Johnson has continued this work while focusing on disadvantaged groups who are disproportionately affected by poor maternal care. Today Latter-day Saint Charities has a woman as its director, Sharon Eubanks.

The experience of Latter-day Saint women benefitting from the organization and collective action of the Relief Society has inspired many of them to start their own advocacy and relief groups. Many of those organizations focus on maternal advocacy. Big Ocean Women, for example, describes itself as an organization focused on “maternal feminism” and was founded by a member of the Church of Jesus Christ. Similarly, Jennifer Brinkerhoff Platt founded Maternal Instincts Consulting to help address postpartum depression while advocating for improved water sanitation around the world because of its benefit to maternal and newborn health. 

Both the Church and these other organizations explicitly work with other groups rather than try and reinvent models. They find the groups that know how to make a difference and then put resources, both financial and labor, into those groups.

Latter-day Saints also have a long history of advocating for the education of women. Not only does this empower Latter-day Saint women to help solve any problem they set their eyes on, but there is a long history of research showing that education for girls and women results in reduced child and maternal deaths. The Church’s teachings were incredibly progressive on this issue, encouraging education at a time when it was not only counter-cultural but in a time and place where they were significantly exposed to maternal health risks—despite very little being known at the time about the connection. Today, Dr. Eva Witesman, a mother of four and a professor at Brigham Young University, is a leading advocate for women’s education and empowerment in various forums and publications.

This is a model that Kathy Headlee, another Latter-day Saint woman, followed in the organization she founded called Mothers Without Borders. Their organization, which focuses its work in Zambia, explains in its mission that it “empowers women and youth through education … to enable them to be change agents for themselves and their communities.”

But perhaps more than any other lesson, these Latter-day Saint women can teach the world the power of faith. With religion on the decline through much of the western world, their examples demonstrate that faith in Jesus Christ can motivate us to build Zion and improve the lives of many of those around us. 

The rise of maternal activism and advocacy by Latter-day Saint women in politics and society is making a positive impact on the world. The Church and culture they come from can model how to develop this strength and service in a way that can work over the long term. These women are using their voices, knowledge, skills, and faith to promote the health, education, and empowerment of mothers and their children, as well as to contribute to society and humanitarian efforts. They are inspiring others to follow the teachings of Jesus Christ and to serve others with love, compassion, and generosity. As we recognize and support the efforts of these women, we can work together to create a brighter future for all.

The post Changing the World One Birth at a Time appeared first on Public Square Magazine.