The Desires of Our Hearts

All my life, I have wanted to be a good parent.  A better one than my parents were to me.  I wanted my children to always know that they were loved and wanted in my life.  I wanted them to have the chance to grow and make their own decisions.  I wanted them to be children.
Sometimes, I would get angry with them.  Sometimes I would forget that they were children, still learning, still growing, still becoming.  Nevertheless, I wanted to do all that I could to exemplify the Savior in my life and explain my testimony and my love.
I used to be a yeller.  My older children all grew up without me knowing that a quiet voice can accomplish so much more than a loud one.  I had to grow up too.  I had to learn that I did not have to parent the same way I was parented.  I had to learn to be more Christlike in my own life, before I could teach them those things in theirs.  I never wanted them to need to learn through my mistakes.
I have learned that I have taught them more than I ever realized.  They love, they trust, they care.  They have grown into amazing adults.  They are all I could wish them to be.  They have their own ideas, dreams and visions for the future, and that is alright.  I want them to find their own way in this world and to hopefully remember what they were taught when they were small.
Most of all, I want them to remember that I loved them first.  That I never forgot them, even if I wasn't perfect.  Especially because I wasn't perfect. I want them to remember the good that I had to teach them.  I want them to remember the Savior in my actions.  I want them to be just a little better than I have been.
With true desire, I so often have pled:

More holiness give me, …
More patience in suff’ring,
More faith in my Savior, …
More tears for his sorrows,
More pain at his grief,
More meekness in trial,

More praise for relief.

More sorrow for sin,

I am still working on all of it.  But I am learning and loving and needing and so very blessed.