I Know I Don't Belong

Since the whole point of this post is to state some ways in which I don't relate to others very well, I don't expect that many people will see things the way I do. But it's part of who I am, so I'm going to post my thoughts while they're on my mind.
I've spent a good portion of my life feeling like I don't belong. But it's especially evident to me in certain situations. The example I'll use to illustrate is a baby shower, since I'm usually uncomfortable and "out of place" when I attend one.
Of course I can usually find someone to chat with, but the main conversations I'm overhearing are about all the adorable baby clothes, how to make the cutest hair ribbons, how boys aren't as fun to buy for as girls, epidurals, doctors, what the greatest new bottles are, what color/theme the nursery is or is going to be, etc...
I know all those things are fun and interesting to talk about, and I've had my share of these conversations. But I can't shut off the "deep thinking" part of me that wants so badly to sit down with the new-mom-to-be and talk about the amazing adventure she's about to embark on. I want her to know that she is about to be given the greatest privilege and responsibility that can ever be given a woman; that this new life is not just a plaything to dress up in cute frills and bows, it's a person whose very character will be shaped and molded by her daily decisions. I want to tell her to cuddle this sweet baby as much as she possibly can, that he's going to grow up faster than she can imagine. I want to tell her what a difference it makes to breastfeed, and to keep it going as long as she can. I want to tell her to have a library for this little one, to read to him everyday, and not to rush through the process--to stay on his favorite page and talk about it for 5 minutes if that's what he wants to do. I want to tell her not to overschedule him, to let him be a child and play like children should. He doesn't need to be in a bunch of structured activities; build a sandpile in the back yard for him and let him do what little boys do. Let him wear inexpensive clothes so you're not tempted to tell him not to get dirty; little boys (and girls) were meant to get dirty. Play marbles with him, play dolls with her. Make play dough. Most of all, I want to make sure she knows that she is the one who has been chosen by God to be this baby's mother--now and into eternity. I want to tell her not to be tempted to send this baby here and there while she enjoys some "me time." Teaching moments aren't often planned--they happen as parents spend time with their children; don't be deceived into thinking that "quality" time can replace quantity. I want to tell her something that President Benson said to mothers: "Mothers, you are your children's best teacher. Don't shift this precious responsibility to day-care centers or babysitters. A mother's love and prayerful concern for her children are her most important ingredients in teaching her own."

Now, I don't believe that dressing children in cute clothes or making hair bows are bad things to do--we all have fun with those kinds of things. But a mother who is constantly running to clothing sales and new boutiques, worrying that her baby's wardrobe is outdated or that the nursery needs a new paint color, may have lost her focus on what is truly important. When this life is over, ALL of us will be outdated, and we'll all come to the reality that we either focused on what was important or we didn't. Period.

Well, this is a small glimpse into the workings of my brain. Yes, it's terrifying. ;-) But the fact is, I've lived long enough to realize how quickly life really goes by, and how critical it is that we learn, early-on, what matters. And, knowing that, I can't spend a lot of time thinking about "fufu" stuff. I'm constantly analyzing life, sorting out the portions that are of an eternal nature, and trying my best to toss the rest aside. Sometimes I decide I'm too obsessive, but other times I'm reminded of Conference talks where words like "diligence," "perseverance," or "steadfast and immovable" are used, and I decide that maybe diligence in keeping an eternal perspective requires just a bit of OCD. =)

Sometimes it's not just at baby showers that I feel I don't belong. Sometimes it's just in this world in general. I thought I was the only person who ever felt that way, until I heard someone call those feelings, "Heavenly Homesickness." Tears came to my eyes as I realized that other people also had feelings of "not belonging" in this world. Sometimes I really do get homesick to return to my Heavenly Father, to be in a place where everything is important and no "fufu" exists; where everyone is in the business of teaching, of saving souls, of loving and improving.

I know right now I don't belong, but I also have faith that someday I will.