The Swamp’s Full of Gators

*Someone asked me about this the other day. Here's "The Swamp."

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Part of the difficulty with our modern lives has to do with alligators.

I was reminded of this once when our oldest daughter called from her home in Seattle to tell me what a frustrating day she’d had with her oldest daughter, then around "terrible two" years old.

“Ma,” she whined, "This morning I had six bags of groceries hanging from both arms, about to drop them while trying to get into the car. I was wrestling them, the baby, and Kenzie at the same time. Kenzie’s shoe came off and she had a screaming fit when I stopped to put it back on her foot. She wanted to do it herself! She wants to do everything herself but she’s too little! She sat down right in the middle of the parking lot and wouldn’t let me help. Finally I had to pick her up and haul her off to her car seat while she was kicking and screaming like she was being kidnapped. The ruckus started the baby crying and then screaming. People all around me stopped to stare as if they were trying to decide if I was a kidnapper or just an incompetent mother. One lady looked like she was ready to call the cops!
I finally got everything loaded and sped off like we were in a getaway car.
I can’t stand days like this!” she wailed.

I thought about this for a minute and then told her I knew what her problem was.

“What's my problem, Ma?" she asked wearily.

“Alligators," I replied.

“Alligators?" she asked. "Ma, what are you talking about?”

“Well," I replied calmly. "You’re trying to drain the swamp and alligators are snapping all around you. Oh and by the way, your alligators’ names have changed.”

“Alligators? Ma, are you crazy?" she said.

“Not yet," I went on. "Let me explain."
"It’s the old........ You’re having trouble remembering that the main objective was to drain the swamp when you’re up to your knees in alligators thing. Because you have those pesky alligators snapping all around you it makes it harder to think.”

“Ma," Kim said, "Are you crazy?”

“Not yet. Let me explain," I replied calmly.
"What you do everyday is of great importance. You’re trying to build an eternal family and help them and yourself get back to Heavenly Father and the Celestial Kingdom. That’s a big, important job with lots of endless hard work. Screaming kids who sit down in parking lots while you struggle with groceries and a new baby make you forget what you’re really doing. Those are alligators.
Cranky husbands, messy houses, too little money, too much to do…..all alligators.
You spend so much time fighting off gators each day that it’s hard to remember why you got in the swamp in the first place.
Well, you got in there for the most important reason there is. It helps a lot if you remember.
For example, you’re not being patient with an hysterical two year old……..you’re nurturing a child of God and building an eternal family.
Your husband has gators too, you know. Tell him he’s not dealing with an overtime work week, frustrating co-workers, mindless paperwork, and rush hour traffic. No, he’s providing for an eternal family’s temporal needs. Tell him you appreciate that. Everybody has to deal with their own gators no matter who they are or what their situation in life. See?"

“I guess, Kim sighed. "But Ma, I can hardly wait for the day when I get this swamp all cleared out. What a relief that’ll be!”

“Kim, I have bad news for you," I explained patiently. "You never will. The alligators names just change.
Everybody’s swamp is crawling with gators and there's a new fight every day.”

“What? she cried. "Are you crazy, Ma?”

“Not yet.  Let me explain,” I calmly responded.
“Do you remember when you used to call your father and me every week from Seattle to cry about how you were getting old and had no husband and your biological clock was ticking and you still had no kids. Woe is me…..boo hoo boo hoo?
When your father came home from work he used to ask if “Whining in Seattle” had called today. Remember that?
Well, those were alligators in your swamp.  Different names….same alligators. Now instead of “29 and no kids” your gators are named “two kids in two years.” Instead of “No husband,” the gator’s now called “Husband-always-leaves-a-mess-in-the-bathroom.”
I, myself, have had many a fight with gators of my own, I can tell you.  In fact I used to have some of the same ones you’re dealing with. Now my alligators’ names have changed to “Bad Back,” “Wrinkles and Sags,” and “Too-Little-Time-Left-to-Get-Perfect-Here.” See how it works?”

“Oh no, I think I’m starting to understand you,” Kim replied in a dejected tone.

“Good. And don’t forget that it’s got a lot to do with farming too,” I reminded.

“Farming? Ma, what are you talking about?” Kim asked.

“Plowing straight rows, of course.” I explained.

“Ma, are you crazy?”

“Not yet.  Let me explain.
Some General Authority once told a story I’ll never forget. He said that in the old days before GPS tractors and such when a farmer wanted to plow straight furrows in his fields at planting time he’d always be sure to pick a spot far across the field, clear on the other side, like a tree or a big rock. Then he'd look right at it and head his plow straight for it. If he didn’t take his eyes off the spot…didn’t look around at the ground or rows in front or next to him…just kept heading right to that exact spot….the furrows would be straight as an arrow. If he got distracted, looked down and tried to plow straight by what was happening all around him, the rows would be all curvy and crooked. Good story. Head straight for the mark. Don’t get distracted by all the stuff happening right around you. Keep your eye on the Celestial Kingdom up ahead and just plow straight toward it. Work steadily, every day, line upon line, precept upon precept, every chance you get.
Or something like that.”

“Right. I see it now,” Kim remarked ever more wearily.

“If you remember that it’s all about alligators and plowing straight rows you’ll be alright.” I reminded.
“Then, of course, you can’t forget to hold the doors. Holding doors is a very important part of it too.”

“Doors, Ma?” Kim said in the strangest tone.

“Yes," I went on, "A wife of one of the prophets... I think it might have been Sister Hinckley.... or maybe it was sombody else....once said an important thing. She said,“Hold the door for everyone you meet. All carry a heavy load whether you can see it or not."
She knew that we’re all fighting off alligators while trying to plow a straight row and that we should try to help each other out when we can. A very wise woman that Sister Hinckley.  She was somebody’s mother.
People should always listen to their mothers, you know.”

“Ma," Kim said. "You really are crazy.”

“Not yet.” I told her.