Tonight I had an epiphany. Recently I decided to write my son Christopher’s story. The first reason to do so is because his story is very different from most of his peers. Another reason is because he cannot do so for himself. Finally, I have considered it because people have told me I ought to write a book about him.

Lately I have been looking at some remarkable young adults whose accomplishments I have enjoyed greatly. They created a TV show featuring clean comedy and have been wildly successful. They also participated in a Face to Face event to inspire LDS youth to remain strong in testimony and faithful to the Lord. And then I did it. I discovered that three of the cast members were born the same year as Christopher. And I compared him to them. Then I decided I need to write his story, as if to explain to the world why my son hasn’t done anything like the things these remarkable young adults have done.

This is not the first time I was guilty of comparing Christopher to his peers. There is an incident that occurred one Sunday when Christopher was eight years old. I had taken him to church, and because his behavior was like a toddler, I went to class with him. A few minutes into the lesson Christopher became bored and stood up and began to play with the lights, which was problematic because the room had no windows, so it was cast into pitch darkness when the lights were turned off. I became depressed, looking at how Christopher acted in contrast to the other boys in the class who followed the lesson and answered questions. I think this is when it finally hit me that Christopher was never going to get better. He wasn’t going to eventually catch up with his peers and life wasn’t going to get back to normal. I cried.

I think one of my problems is the feeling that what my children do, at least for the first few years of their adult lives, is a reflection on how I did as a mother. By this standard, I feel like I really don’t measure up. Other parents must have done such a better job because their children are doing so many things mine are not.


Comparing is a natural reaction to most circumstances. “Taking the temperature” of how we are doing, for example. When we set goals, we make comparisons to see if we are making progress with them. But when we are comparing our circumstances to another, we are not allowing for the fact that we are not all alike, but are in fact unique individuals, with incomparable circumstances. In this setting, comparing ourselves to others can be a failure to accept God’s will for us as individuals. We also risk failing to value our own uniqueness and abilities. As President Deiter F. Uchtdorf said in his talk “Forget Me Not,”

we spend so much time and energy comparing ourselves to others—usually comparing our weaknesses to their strengths. This drives us to create expectations for ourselves that are impossible to meet. As a result, we never celebrate our good efforts because they seem to be less than what someone else does.

Not all comparison is necessarily detrimental. I often look at others, see their accomplishments, and set myself up a goal to try to do that too. I find inspiration by seeing what can be done, often when it is something I had not previously considered.I don’t think this is the same as the comparison that can prove detrimental to our growth; it is quite the contrary. We are meant to learn from each other. Some situations, however, aren’t meant to be compared, and should not be. Why my twenty-seven year old son is not a college graduate, holding a job and maybe even starting a family is not a question that will be beneficial to him or me. Such a future was lost, when 23 years ago he fell ill with spinal meningitis. Due to circumstances beyond our control, his life simply doesn’t compare to that of his peers. But there is much he can teach us.

A little under two years ago Christopher developed trouble with a shunt he has in his head to drain excess fluid and prevent excess pressure on his brain. It seemed routine enough at the time. We went through at least half a dozen shunt surgeries when he was a child. A Priesthood blessing promised Christopher he would live and be healed. It said that his life would be spared because he still had things he needed to teach us here on earth. At the time I wondered if his uncle Kamron, who was giving the blessing, was simply being reassured about concerns he carried. But the Lord is good. He knew, as we had yet to discover, that this surgery wasn’t going to end up routinely. Christopher developed a serious infection from the staph bacteria MRSA in his brain. The location of this infection is called ventriculitis, and sent him to the ICU for several weeks of aggressive medical treatment. It also carries a mortality rate of 60%. A blessing given days before prevented me from wondering if Christopher was going to live or die. It did, however, leave him very weak, which he still is trying to recover from to this day.

Instead of comparing, I need to focus on finding joy in the little everyday things in my life. I pick up Christopher every Wednesday evening and we have dinner. My sister Melody LeBaron has been kind enough to host most of these dinners in her own home. This makes it more exciting for Christopher because his Aunt and Uncle LeBaron have been important people in his life and he loves to see them. These visits are intended to get Christopher out and visiting, something he has little ability to do on his own. Every other Sunday I take Christopher to church. When the schedule permits, I attend his meetings with him, otherwise I take him to mine. My goal was to try to help him develop a testimony of his own. At the very least, I didn’t want him on judgement day to ask me why I never tried to teach him about his Heavenly Father. I knew this was working the day he stood up and bore his testimony. It was a sweet experience, even more so because it was his idea.

My goals to raise my children in righteousness are partially realized with my sons. Even though I see other parents who seem to be doing so much better than my 50/50 track record on raising a righteous generation, I feel truly blessed to have my two boys. As President Uchtdorf said:

The lesson here is that if we spend our days waiting for fabulous roses, we could miss the beauty and wonder of the tiny forget-me-nots that are all around us.

This is not to say that we should abandon hope or temper our goals. Never stop striving for the best that is within you. Never stop hoping for all of the righteous desires of your heart. But don’t close your eyes and hearts to the simple and elegant beauties of each day’s ordinary moments that make up a rich, well-lived life.

Much of the time I am pretty happy. As long as I don’t fall into the trap of comparing and measuring my success against people whose experiences really aren’t comparable. The Lord has truly blessed me with the life I have. Thanks to Christopher I have learned so much about patience. Christopher will never be one of the young adults I compared him to. But then again, they have never experienced and survived the things Christopher has. They have an impact on people around them for good. I have seen Christopher have an amazing and sometimes surprising impact on people around him too. Always, I must remember,

God loves me because I am His child. He loves me even though at times I may feel lonely or make mistakes.

The love of God and the power of the restored gospel are redemptive and saving. If I will only allow His divine love into my life, it can dress any wound, heal any hurt, and soften any sorrow. (Uchtdorf)