As a former school teacher, I firmly believe that not everyone is cut out for college. As his mother, I believe that my son, Devin, is among the group who isn’t. That’s why Devin getting an engineering degree from the University of Utah this past week is so huge. So momentous, in fact, that I want to take a slight detour from my usual postings to write about how parenting, and being Devin’s mom in particular, makes me love the gospel as it is taught by The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints even more.
Devin is has always been curious, hardworking and intelligent. He loves figuring out how things work, and repairing things that no longer work. He is exceptionally friendly and always eager to help friends, family and complete strangers. Mixed in with his gifts, is some pretty serious ADHD, which he calls, “The Ad-hood.”
I suspected he had ADHD even when he was a toddler, and I would often say that nothing about raising his three older brothers had prepared me for Devin. I would cringe a little when he couldn’t sit reverently in primary, thinking that everyone must be wondering, “Why doesn’t his mother do something with him?” He was into everything and frequently wore me out, but I couldn’t bring myself to have him diagnosed. I’d tell myself that energy was a good thing. I didn’t want to put that label on him, and I couldn’t bare the thought of medicating the Devin out of Devin.
He struggled some in school, failing to finish some assignments, or more frequently forgetting to turn in what he had done. His teachers never seemed overly concerned; after all, he was such a “nice young man.” While in high school, Devin approached me about going to see a psychiatrist because he felt depressed. After talking to Devin about his concerns—he was worried about, and trying to help, some friends with serious issues—the doctor told him that his feelings were understandable and he was coping well given the circumstances. He said, “You’re not depressed, but you do have ADHD.” Medication has helped Devin manage the symptoms. I wish we had sought a diagnosis sooner.
Despite the challenges, Devin wanted to be a mechanical engineer. In his first-year engineering class, his team—with Devin as a major contributor—won the contest for building the best spam-powered, ball launcher. Unfortunately, he failed the course due to some online assignments that he had been unaware existed.
Every semester has been a struggle, with most including one or more melt downs either because he failed or believed he was going to fail classes. During the first few years, I alternated between encouragement to keep going and reassurance that his parents and family would still be proud of him if he chose to do a technical program instead. While I am convinced that college isn’t for everyone, and the world needs skilled tradespeople, as Devin progressed through the program, my tone changed. At some point, he had come too far to turn back, and we all encouraged him to keep going, despite the difficulties.
One of my favorite LDS teachings concerns the nature of God and our relationship to him. I recently finished a beautiful book, The God Who Weeps, by Terryl and Fiona Givens and was reminded again of these marvelous concepts, which I sometimes take for granted, but which allow us to better understand God as we struggle through the different stages of parenthood.
The early lessons seem the easiest to me. I was blessed to be raised by loving, wise, concerned, kind, and just parents, so envisioning a Heavenly Father with these qualities seemed natural. At that age I didn’t understand how blessed I was, or how secure I felt because I could trust both my earthly and heavenly parents. When I became a mother for the first time, I was awed by my ability to love a child so deeply and unconditionally. My understanding of my Heavenly Father’s love grew. It grew again each time a new child entered our family, and I realized that I could love them as absolutely as I had the first.
In my experience, however, the later lessons taught me more about the nature of God. You see, eventually those adorable babies and toddlers grow into teenagers and adults. You still love them as much, but your role in their lives changes. Parenting young children is active; you are doing the work and making the rules. Parenting adults can be more about biting your tongue and holding your breath. You allow your children make choices you believe will turn out badly, often because you are no longer in a position to do anything about it. Your children move out or away, they become independent or busy, and you feel distant. You find yourself powerless to help as they experience the negative consequences of their own or others faults or mistakes. Parenting is particularly agonizing during those times when all you can do is love and pray for your children. These experiences are the ones that help me appreciate a God who shows compassion for the suffering of His children.
As I think about recent experiences with Devin two truths stand out. First, it is by struggling that we grow. Devin’s school work soon surpassed my ability to help. He had to learn the concepts himself, and no matter how difficult the work was, no one else could do it for him. This is because it wasn’t a matter of doing, it was a matter of becoming—in this case becoming an engineer with all the knowledge and skills needed. The purpose of our earthly existence is also becoming—becoming more like Christ who suffered all things. It makes sense to me that a loving God allows us to experience pain, grief, and all kinds of misery because He knows the eternal picture. We are also blessed to know that in the council in heaven, we understood what this life would involve—all the pain, evil, and calamity—and we chose to come and experience it.
While I believe it is right to ask for God to relieve our suffering and eliminate our problems, I think it is imperative not to be disheartened when He doesn’t. Better that we watch for the hand of the Lord in our lives and appreciate the tender mercies He sends to strengthen us. In Devin’s case, the school continued to be difficult, but the blessings certainly came. Chief among them was his wife, Rachel, who couldn’t have been more patient and supportive.
The second truth that stands out is that God understands our weaknesses and doesn’t judge us by comparing us to others. On graduation day, I couldn’t have been more proud of Devin. There were students who graduated with advanced degrees, honors and cords that he didn’t have, but they may not have had to overcome some of the same challenges. Devin had managed to do what at one time seemed nearly impossible. Far too often we compare ourselves unfavorably to others, when I think God is pleased if we are still trying.
The gospel gives meaning to our lives and gives us strength during our challenges. The love I have for my children, the concern I have for their struggles, and the joy I feel for their successes, makes me grateful for a God that is a far better parent than I am. While I do not know the meaning of all things, like Nephi, “I know that [God] loveth his children.”
