Eli is being spotlighted in Primary on Sunday because she had her birthday this week, on the 2nd. They asked me to share one thing that our family loves and admires about Eli. That is a difficult task...do I pick something simple that the primary kids would understand, or even that Eli could understand? Naki is so much better at recognizing things within each of the girls that is identifying and unique to them than I am, and so I have felt the pressure of this assignment keenly. I know whatever I tell the Primary will be said in about 30 seconds and probably only 2 or 3 people will actually hear what was said! But still, it's important to me that I honor Eli by thinking seriously about our love for her and by contemplating what she teaches us. And so I have been mulling several different options around in my head this afternoon.
Through this process, I have discovered something that innately I already knew. As a parent the traits I most admire in my children are not the ones that always look the most rose tinted, are easily acquired, or don't require effort on their part. They are not the ones that seem sparkly and somewhat perfect and geometric, kind of like a beautiful gem. Instead I cherish the qualities of the girls that may appear rougher and are a bit dirty around the edges instead of rosy because of all the digging deep they had to do to acquire them. Instead of sparkling like a gem I envision these qualities looking like pieces of iron, welded together bit by bit, one uneven piece at a time, with the welding material having turned solid as it was dripping down the edges. There is a sheen to these qualities for sure, but you only can see it because of the polishing through all the different layers of grime it took to find it.
I knew immediately which quality of Eli's I wanted to share as the one our family loves and admires about her. Here is the statement I shared with the Primary.
"In our family we honor Eli for her ability to do things even when doing it makes her nervous or afraid. Eli is a very brave and courageous little girl, and her smile when she knows she's done something even though she was scared to do it makes us wish we were as brave as her."
Now. If I could just convince her that getting a new roll of paper towels from the garage (of which she's afraid to enter alone) doesn't warrant screaming usually heard by someone who is mortally wounded. Trust me when I say that little girl deserves every piece of iron that she's welding together. I wonder what it will all look like when she's done? I wonder what all of our's will look like when they're done.
