Come Unto Christ

On November 1st, a member of our bishopric asked me to speak on November 14th in Sacrament meeting.  I agreed, knowing that it had been over 4 years since I had been given that assignment and knowing the Dash is now old enough to sit in the pew with my husband and be perfectly content without me.

The only thing that scares me more than speaking in Sacrament meeting is giving a Relief Society lesson.

The topic I was assigned was "Come Unto Christ". My heart jumped in my chest because it's a subject I hold near and dear, especially after the events of the last few years, but an added emphasis after some policies were changed in the church that caused quite a disruption. 

I sat down this last week and put my talk together. Each time I tried to pull quotes and stories from here and here, my mind would go blank.  The following talk is what was presented, with a few minor moments of ad libbing in part because I was having a hard time seeing some of the words on the page.

You know those Sundays where you sit down there on a bench or a seat in the back and think, “wow, she’s a really good speaker”?

That won’t be what you’re thinking today. If my assignment had been to teach the congregation how to use the Law of Cosines to solve a triangle or how to find the roots of a 5^th degree polynomial function, then I’d have felt as calm as a cucumber and you would have been well-taught, walking out the doors having feasted on the awesomeness of my mad math teaching skills.

But Sacrament meeting isn’t designed for math lectures, so I’m going to do my best with the topic I have been given. Just hold tight and keep me in your prayers because I may not make it through this.

Every once in awhile, when I have something that is weighing heavily on my mind, I compose letters in my head addressed to whatever or whoever is bothering me. I have never written any of these “letters” out for mailing, but have on a few occasions added them to my journal. Over the last few years, I’ve written more letters than I care to admit; some of them have been to my mother, who passed away a few years ago, a lot have been to other family members, and some have been to the doctors who were responsible for the death of our son 19 months ago.

These letters don‘t remove my burdens by any means, but they do allow me to see a clearer path towards forgiving others, forgiving myself, and understanding the role the Savior has in my life. Sometimes as I write these letters in my mind, I can feel the Spirit guiding me, bringing specific thoughts to the forefront of my mind. And when I do this, when I allow him to carry these burdens, I am learning how I can come unto Christ.

Coming unto Christ is an extremely personal journey for each of us. It’s not like taking the Sacrament, being baptized, or making temple covenants, where others are there as witnesses in one form or another. It’s also not something that you can do once and then never do again.

It took me several days to decide which direction I wanted this talk to go and I’m not entirely certain I picked the right direction. I knew I could rely heavily on several talks that Elder Holland and Elder Oaks have given but I decided that I wanted to talk a little more about some key moments on my journey towards coming unto Christ and staying with him, even though Elders Holland and Oaks are far more eloquent than I will ever be.

The music video to go with the theme song last year is beautiful. If you haven’t had a chance to watch it yet, it’s worth the 5 minutes. Part of the lyrics go like this:

He’s the One who healed the leper, and who brought the dead to life. He’s the One, who fed the hungry, and who gave the blind their sight. He’s the One who walked on water, then He brought them safe to shore, and whenever you may need Him, He’s the One you’re looking for. So let Him in, and He will take away your pain. When you feel His love you’ll never be the same. Come unto Christ. Come unto Him, and by His grace be made holy again. He’s calling your name. He’s waiting for you with arms open wide. Come unto Christ.

I love the simple imagery in that first verse as well as knowing that Christ didn’t just heal those who were physically blind, or hungry, or the leper but He has always done these in a Spiritual sense, too.

Dallin H Oaks taught that “His Atonement reaches and is powerful enough not only to pay the price for sin but also to heal every mortal affliction. The Book of Mormon teaches that “He shall go forth, suffering pains and afflictions and temptations of every kind; and this that the word might be fulfilled which saith he will take upon him the pains and the sicknesses of his people” (Alma 7:11; see also 2 Nephi 9:21).”

This is where things get a little personal. During my sophomore year in college I experienced a significant amount of depression and with it, entertained the notion of suicide, although I knew that ending my life was something I could never actually do. After several months, I recognized that I needed help and asked to speak to my bishop. I was fortunate enough to have a bishop who had converted to the church after having completed his training as a Presbyterian minister as well as having received a doctorate degree in psychology and marriage and family therapy. He had sought those degrees with every intention helping his congregation emotionally as well as spiritually. I met with him a few times a week at first, then once a week, then once a month until I moved out of that ward. It was this bishop who reminded me that the pains Christ had suffered weren’t just physical, but emotional as well and that the Atonement allows all who are hurting to seek comfort and healing from him.  

I grew up with music in my home, so during this time in my life, one particular hymn was on my mind.

                Master, with anguish of spirit

            I bow in my grief today.

            The depths of my sad heart are troubled.

            Oh, waken and save, I pray!

            Torrents of sin and of anguish

            Sweep o’er my sinking soul,

            And I perish! I perish! dear Master.

            Oh, hasten and take control!

                 

So that’s exactly what I did. Through some good old fashioned therapy and hours in prayer and study, I let the Savior show me a glimpse of my divine worth. I let him take the rudder while the winds around me blew and when the storms started to calm, I stayed by His side.

Fast forward 16 years to June of 2014. As my daycare children all slept, I was swept away in an acute tidal wave of grief over the loss of our son. It had been less than 3 months since his stillbirth and I was already pregnant with Eliza. That day I was angry and frustrated and I felt very alone. I desperately wanted to know how my son’s existence would work as far as eternal families go. I had been feeling his life within me for over 3 months before his death and I knew he was gone because of the void left behind when his life, his presence, was no longer with me.

According to the law as well as church policy, children are only considered as having lived if they take a breath outside the womb and Jackson never had that chance.
Was that short time in my womb his only chance at life on earth?
Will he be born to a different family because he didn’t take a breath in the body we had provided for him?
Could he have another chance with our family if we ever had another boy?
I had so many questions and no answers.

As my grief overcame me that afternoon, I knelt near my bed, sobbing so hard I feared I would be sick all over the floor and I prayed.

 Hard and as silently as I could manage

 For comfort

 for peace

 for answers regarding the spirit of our stillborn son. I told my Heavenly Father that nobody around me understood what I was going through. I had lost my only son and I was hurting. And as clear as if it had been said out load I felt the words, “I know. I lost my Only Son, too”.

With those simple words, I no longer felt alone. I quickly saw the parallels between Jackson’s death and the Savior’s.
Without the loss of our son, I would never have found the doctor that helped me bring Eliza to our family. He died so that she could live.

I still didn’t have answers to any of my questions after that prayer (still don’t), but for now, that doesn’t hurt me anymore.

I had come unto Christ, on bended knee, and he healed me. I will bear the grief of losing him for as long as I can see, but like a scar, it no longer hurts the way it did before.

My scripture study and regular prayer have kept me on a path towards my Savior so that when the larger trials have come, He has been ready to help me carry my burdens.

Some time ago I came across a short cartoon narrated by a doctorate of social work. In the cartoon, she demonstrates the differences between sympathy and empathy.

Imagine you have fallen down a hole. It’s dark, you’re cold, you’re overwhelmed, and you don’t know the way out. Sympathy is someone standing at the top of the hole saying, “Whew, that’s tough. At least you have a sandwich.” Empathy, on the other hand, climbs down a ladder, listens, makes an emotional connection to something painful in her life, and says, “I’m sorry. I’m here. You’re not alone.”

Empathy from another helps you feel better, but it doesn’t get you out of the hole. Christ goes beyond empathy.  He doesn’t just come down the ladder to give you a hug and let you know you’re aren’t alone.  When our Savior says, “Come unto me” it is an invitation, an invitation for us to follow him because he knows the way out of that dark, cold hole and he knows the way up and into His light. But you have to trust him and then follow him, even when the way is long and rocky.

Earlier this week I asked my 9 year old daughter if she knew what it meant to “Come unto Christ.”

She said, “No?”

So in keeping with my tradition, I wrote a letter to her in my mind that night. It’s been 5 days and my memory is fuzzy, but it went something like this:

My Dear Kathryn,

When I asked you if you know what “Come Unto Christ” meant, you said you didn’t know and I felt like a failure as a mother.  It seems like such a simple thing to talk about, even if it sometimes feels hard to do.
To “Come unto Christ” is an invitation God has given to you. You have two choices: you can accept it or you can ignore it.

Unlike an invitation to a birthday party, this invitation never expires but if you ignore it, you may have a hard time finding it again.

“Come unto Christ” means sharing the things that cause you pain with him so that he can heal them.

“Come unto Christ” means following the example he set of loving those around you and forgiving others.

To “Come unto Christ” means taking a deep breath when you are overwhelmed and letting the Savior help you get through your problem.

To “Come unto Christ” means that you want to be like him.

If you feel lost, hungry, weary beyond understanding .  .  . If you simply don’t know what to do. Come unto Christ.

To do these things, you will need to continue to study your scriptures. Learn the stories while you are young so that as you grow up, you can study what they mean and find new guidance and comfort in the words you have become familiar with.

You will also need to pray. Don’t just try and get it over and done with, but spend time thinking about what you want to say and then listening and feeling the response. It is unlikely that you’ll hear an audible voice answering your prayers, but you’ll feel the words and they will change you.

To “Come unto Christ” means to live a life different from most of your friends as you follow the commandments.

To “Come unto Christ” means listening to the prophet and apostles and then praying to know if the counsel they are giving is true.

To “Come unto Christ” is to live a life full of joy as you make use of the atonement and lay your burdens at His feet.

I testify that I know my Savior lives. I know this is His church, and the only way to eternal salvation is through Him. So whether life is going well or trials are keeping you down, come unto Christ. He is the only way to eternal life, so I'm not going anywhere.

I say these things in the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.