A close friend was disappointed in my for focusing on my imaginary future family rather than myself. I made a fumbling attempt to explain myself - to convince him that it would help me prepare to raise my children. I said that they would be my revolution. That love and service and family could change the world.
He didn't believe me. But I was right.
You see, there are three gifts that August gives me everyday.
1. After he wakes up from his first nap, I carry August into the living room to play with his toys. I set him down and then sit indian style, facing him. He puts his little hands on my knees to pull himself into a kneeling position. Then he grabs the neck of my shirt and pulls himself up to stand. He is wobbly, so he throws his arm around my neck. Once he is stable, he rests his cheek on my right shoulder. Every morning he hugs me like this for 15 minutes or so. Then he plays.
2. Later in the day, he gives me a different kind of hug. Usually when I carry him he likes to have both arms free to grab things. But sometimes he will wrap his left hand around my right arm, holding on tight. And then he'll lean into me and gently play with my hair. He does it almost absentmindedly. Like affection and intimacy are the most natural thing in the world to him.
3. During the first week of March, around my birthday, August started giving me very aggressive kisses. He grabs onto my face with one fist, my hair with the other, and clamps down on my cheekbone with his (thankfully toothless) little mouth. I kiss his chubby cheeks all the time, and sometimes munch on them, so I imagine that he is mimicking me. It's interesting to note that he doesn't ever kiss me when we're alone, only around other people. I imagine that he is claiming me as his own, his safe place, his mama.
Loving August has humbled me. It can be a terrifying and paralyzing thing to love someone so much. There is an agony to motherhood that has nothing to do with labor or night feedings.
And at the exact same time, occupying the exact same space - there is immense power in loving a child. Power that I can't comprehend, but I know I can access whenever I may need to. That power, the strength and certainty and confidence and joy and every other good and fierce weapon I have in my quiver - is magnified when August gives me his gifts. A chubby hand wrapped around my arm is all the motivation I need to combat the forces of evil that tempt and taint this world.
And it's just love.
Love. Changes. Everything.
At Christmas, our family stayed with Cole's aunt and uncle for a night before going to spend the week with my family. They have several children and we were pleased to be thrown into their routine. They had committed to helping out several Rwandan refugees the morning after we arrived. So we all loaded up in cars, picked them up and headed to the mall. Cole's uncle bought them socks, shoes and watches.
The next morning we went to church. A couple minutes into the service, the men came in and set behind us. I smiled when I saw them all wearing their new shoes and watches. I was distracted from the Christmas-themed service as I thought about the suffering they had witnessed. The genocide in Rwanda has been brutal, horrific and relentless - it is impossible for me to comprehend. They witnessed most of their family members die and left others not knowing if they would ever see them again.
A thought entered my mind, "They need to hold August. Holding a baby will help to heal their pain." I can comfortably and boldly say that that thought was not my own. It came from the Spirit.
August was sleeping, but after Sacrament I carried him in his carseat to where the men (boys, really) were standing. I pointed to them and then made the motion of cradling a baby. They didn't speak English but they understood my question and broke into huge smiles. I scooped August up and they each held him, gazed at him, and smiled.
We couldn't communicate. But I felt confirmation that in a small way, it helped.
I really believe that love can heal. That families and children can change the world. I believe that what I do, day in and day out, is powerful. And that with the Atonement of Jesus Christ smoothing over my mistakes, I can help create a better future.
What is more important, more revolutionary than that?