Freed of Guilt: Love is Spoken Here

It is Father's Day. In church, the primary children sang Love is Spoken Here. I cried. I have always loved this song. It reminds me of the three most significant blessings in my life. A mother. A mother who loves me, who loves the Lord and who taught me how to love the Lord, my family and life. A father. A father who loves me, who loves the Lord and who taught me how to obey with exactness thru word and deed with a gentle, unrushed fervor. Thirdly, the knowledge that I am a daughter of God with heavenly parents who love me and want me to return to live with them. I cried because the lyrics remind of whence I have come and what I strive to be like. This week has been a rough one emotionally for me and I often feel a measure of guilt for not having perfected the art of speaking love despite stress and emotional triggers. Losing my temper with my children is probably the greatest source of regret and feeling guilt that I have.

In the past, I have spoken with MANY friends convincing them to let of their guilt over things that we, as mothers and women, think we should have better control and don't. We give ourselves a hard time and let that guilt fester and eat away at our heaven- gifted confidence and capacity. Therefore, as a general rule, I don't buy into guilt of this nature. I see it as a stumbling block that is best avoided.

However, this song had become a bit of a guilt teaser to me. As if that unseen but real and evil force was trying to convince me that I could never become sufficiently better at exemplifying the title of that song. I have the title of said song on the wall in our living room over our family name and birthdate. On bad days, I look at it and flog myself, "Tisha, Love is not spoken here. Tongue and temper control thyself!" I venture to guess that many a mother has felt a similar unsettling tug on her own respective heartstring.

Let us return to my sacrament meeting experience. My 3 oldest with the rest of cute kids are up these singing their sweet guts out. And while I hear the words, "I hear the words she whispers as she bows her head to pray. Her plea to the Father quiets all my fears and I am thankful love is spoken here." I was blessed with a peace and some needful knowledge. The love of which they were singing was not about me nor of how I speak (though it is a still a worthwhile goal). It is about the Savior. *Enter a peaceful, calming even redeeming swell of emotion* In 2 Nephi 25:26 it says, "And we talk of Christ, we rejoice in Christ, we preach of Christ, we prophecy of Christ, and we write according to our prophecies, that our children may know to what source they may look for a remission of their sins."

The power of the atonement is sweet. It is swift to act and quick to soothe and heal. I am not a perfect parent. In fact, this week I basically sucked rocks. But despite it all, I did not fail because while my temper may have surfaced all too often. I spoke of Love as we prayed and talked of Christ, our Master, Teacher and Friend. I am letting my guilt fall at the wayside on this. I will do my all to speak with the tongue of angels but I find comfort in knowing that as I focus on my Father in Heaven and Savior that Love will bring healing, growth and an improvement in behavior. We are trying to be like Jesus, walk in His paths and thru doing this our ways and actions will become more and more straight.

I am grateful for my amazing father. He is one of the top 4 best men I have ever known and been close to. He is the first on this small list. I couldn't ask for more because there is nothing more that I could ever want. He is a straight arrow, a true, gentle, humble and amazingly good man. He took me on daddy-daughter dates, made me clean the kitchen in the middle of the night if I wasn't true to my after dinner stewardships, made sure I always respected my mother and threw socks at my head to make me laugh. I LOVED it when he'd talk to me while I cleaned the kitchen as a teenager (I cleaned purposely slow on those nights) and even when he secretly put tabasco on my chicken to see how I'd react. He taught me what I wanted in a husband as he flirted with, kissed and slow danced with my mother in the kitchen. He makes me want to be good because he is good and I want to make him proud. He is the REAL deal. My cup runneth over in rushes of gallons when it comes to how I hit the jackpot in my own earthly father.

Second on the list is my maternal grandfather, Pa Pa, as we call him. Again, another straight arrow with a calm and gentle way. He was loved by others so much because he loved others so much. He seemed to always know how to make the individual feel loved. I loved going out on errands with him. He always stopped to visit people. He was never rushed--always kind. He always let me order the quarter pounder burger at Wendy's even though I was probably only 4 yrs old and it was bigger than my face. When I think of think of Cherry coke, the Detroit Pistons, French salad dressing, smell peanuts roasting in the oven, eat homemade vanilla ice cream and bbq on the the 4th of July or swallow a few watermelon seeds and feel a special comfort in knowing I won't grow a watermelon in my belly, I think of him. I can almost smell him and hear the grumbly way he'd clear his throat before he spoke in his own soothing way. I am almost certain I can feel the breeze against my skin like I did when we sat outside on the swing together. I miss him but I still feel him with me even though he is no longer physically accessible.

Third, my Sammy. Real deals #1 and #2 taught me what to look for in a husband and I was l.u.c.k.y to get this sweet and patient man to marry me and then deal with my mood swings and sassiness. He is the best father and a tender husband. He is our emotional stronghold here in this hormone filled house. I don't know how he has stayed so mellow all these years. We girls must be wild in a charming sort of way. He is half saint because he willingly takes all four of his precocious, and often busy, daughters on dates so yours truly can catch a break. He not only does their hair but isn't afraid of girly discussions or talks about "feelings", getting bows clipped in his hair and never squirms when we tell him we are watching "The Princess Protection Program" or "Anne of Green Gables" for family movie night. I prayed to marry a man who had the characteristics of a stripling warrior and I got one. Lucky duck, I am.

Number 4 on the list is my own father-in-law, I call him Dad too. I have only known him for 11 short years but he has taken me under his wing of love, concern, protection and sincerity. He teases me like his own and he regards me with the same kindness and seriousness as well. He is gracious enough to love me despite my weakness. I have a special gratitude to him for raising his son, my Sam, to know how to be true, firm and committed. He also has great taste in jewelry and the girly girl in me is touched with this thoughtfulness. He made sure Sam had a proper ring to propose to me with (which I still wear) and I still have and wear regularly the first pair of earrings he ever gave to me a little over 11 years ago. He doesn't squirt me with water as much any more but he shares his heart and testimony with me. We laugh together. He has taught me how to be patient, thoughtful, generous and that lovingly teasing your family is a pretty standard way that men nurture and bond with those they love.

Happy Father's Day to all the tremendous men in my life. Thank you for being true to who you are, for loving (and teasing) me (except when you poke in my armpit, Sam, I still don't like that *seriouslovingwink* ) and for not shying away from the weight and responsibility that comes with being the real deal.

Will there be cameras in heaven? I sure hope so. I would LOVE to get a picture of this Fatherly dreamteam all together. What a day this has been. All in one day I have been freed of guilt and able to reflect on how I am blessed by and bonded to good men. Life is good.