Typically in the Mormon faith, your congregation is based on geography, thus you meet with people who live near you, providing some diversity in who you attend church with. (Hah! it's only as diverse as your living space, so usually the diversity is age related.) While living in PA though, for some time my congregation was split demographically, and so my ward contained small children under the age of 7 and adults ranging from about 18 to 35, who were all either college students or married to college students. Most of those college students were pursuing advanced degrees, usually PhDs.
This meant that we had a lot more in common (other than just our beliefs) than the average group of worshipers. The commonalities that are pertinent to this story are that we were all poor, with the expectation that it would end about the same time school did. Also, we all either had children, or expected to have children soon. And we were all exposed to the Church counsel that women should, where possible, stay home to raise their children.
And each family went about making ends meet in their own way. Some women worked part-time to provide extra income for their families, some full-time becoming the primary breadwinner, some were on government assistance allowing the mothers to stay home. And there were surely other solutions that I have not imagined, but worked for them.
One Sunday we had a lesson on motherhood, and these choices that we had all made about working and staying home and day care and home care came up. Those who worked talked about the struggles they experienced. Those who stayed home talked about theirs. And as we tried to learn and grown with respect and patience for the choices made by others, a friend of mine shared some thoughts that have stayed with me all these years:
Whatever choice that's been made, it was made through prayer, and it's hard to live with it every day. It's hard to be out of the home, and it's hard to be in it.
Or in other words, we can't judge others for how they're choosing to care for their families, and we can hope that they aren't judging us.
Why am I writing this? Because I am plagued with self-doubt of how to best care for my children in my particular circumstances. Many of the opportunities that I thought would be available are not for one reason or another. But are these opportunities needful? helpful? important? wanted? And while I don't believe anyone is judging how I'm raising my children, I sure wish that I, too, could withhold judgment on myself.
