All That Is Unfair Can Be Made Right Through The Atonement of Jesus Christ
There are about 500 things on my "to-do" list right now, but I have got to take a little breather. The past 2 weeks have been emotionally wearing on me, but not because of anything I am personally going through. Besides having 5-day colds, we are doing really well at the Adams home. No, the reason I am feeling so drained is because of what other people are going through. Namely, my young women and the ladies I visit teach.
Right now, one of the ladies I visit teach has a lot on her plate. And I struggle to know how to help her. In fact, all 4 of the sweet ladies I visit have something they are struggling with and I often wish I knew how to do more for them.
Meanwhile, a few of my young women are at a crossroads. They are making some huge life decisions right now that will most certainly lead them far away from the gospel path. I lay awake at night, long after Burke is breathing deeply beside me and worry about them. With one of my girls in particular I feel such a weight of responsibility to help her, to lift her, to guide her. She does not have a single respectable adult role model to teach her right from wrong. She lives in a terrible environment surrounded by dark influences. Her poor choices are therefore tragically understandable. This little girl has been handed the worst deck of cards in her life and sometimes when I look at her, I just want to cry. How is she possibly expected to make it out of that trap? How can she survive? Why would a loving Heavenly Father place so many trials upon her in her short life while I have lived a life of such a relative ease?
When I find myself asking hard questions like this that I have no answers for, I have to stop and remind myself of the the answers I have gained in my life, the things I do know.
I know God loves us. I know he loves the ladies I visit teach and I know he loves this little girl.
I know that he sent us here to learn and grow and to do so we must be tried and tested. I know that he does not give us trials that we are incapable of overcoming. I know that.
I know that this little girl must have so much to offer the world if she is being tested in this way.
I know that the only way for her to survive the chaos of her life is to turn to Jesus Christ.
I know that it is only in and through His atonement, His love and His plan that we can be happy. That is why I have been so incredibly happy in my life - because I believe this - because I know it.
In the General Relief Society meeting in October of this past year, Linda Burton (the new General Relief Society President) used an expression that has stuck with me and that I frequently think of in these moments. She said, "All that is unfair about life can be made right through the Atonement of Jesus Christ." (Her beautiful words found HERE).
What does that mean exactly, "all that is unfair"?
My Dad sent a quote back in January in his weekly letter from Chieko N. Okazaki (former 1st Counselor of the General Relief Society) that seems to answer that question perfectly. It's a long quote, but well worth the read. She said:
"We know that Jesus experienced the totality of mortal existence in Gethsemane. It's our faith that he experienced everything- absolutely everything. Sometimes we don't think through the implications of that belief.
We talk in great generalities about the sins of all humankind, about the suffering of the entire human family. But we don't experience pain in generalities. We experience it individually. That means he knows what it felt like when your mother died of cancer- how it was for your mother, how it still is for you. He knows what it felt like to lose the student body election. He knows that moment when the brakes locked and the car started to skid. He experienced the slave ship sailing from Ghana toward Virginia. He experienced the gas chambers at Dachau.
He experienced Napalm in Vietnam. He knows about drug addiction and alcoholism. Let me go further. There is nothing you have experienced as a woman that he does not also know and recognize. On a profound level, he understands the hunger to hold your baby that sustains you through pregnancy. He understands both the physical pain of giving birth and the immense joy. He knows about PMS and cramps and menopause. He understands about rape and infertility and abortion. His last recorded words to his disciples were, 'And, lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the world.' (Matthew 28:20)
He understands your mother-pain when your five-year-old leaves for kindergarten, when a bully picks on your fifth-grader, when your daughter calls to say that the new baby has Down syndrome. He knows your mother-rage when a trusted babysitter sexually abuses your two-year-old, when someone gives your thirteen-year-old drugs, when someone seduces your seventeen-year-old.
He knows the pain you live with when you come home to a quiet apartment where the only children are visitors, when you hear that your former husband and his new wife were sealed in the temple last week, when your fiftieth wedding anniversary rolls around and your husband has been dead for two years. He knows all that. He's been there. He's been lower than all that. He's not waiting for us to be perfect. Perfect people don't need a Savior. He came to save his people in their imperfections.
He is the Lord of the living, and the living make mistakes. He's not embarrassed by us, angry at us, or shocked. He wants us in our brokenness, in our unhappiness, in our guilt and our grief. You know that people who live above a certain latitude and experience very long winter nights can become depressed and even suicidal, because something in our bodies requires whole spectrum light for a certain number of hours a day. Our spiritual requirement for light is just as desperate and as deep as our physical need for light. Jesus is the light of the world.
We know that this world is a dark place sometimes, but we need not walk in darkness. The people who sit in darkness have seen a great light, and the people who walk in darkness can have a bright companion. We need him, and He is ready to come to us, if we'll open the door and let him."
(Chieko N. Okazaki, Lighten Up, Preface, p. 174)
When I read that I am reminded that, although I may not have all the answer, He does. He has experienced every hardship we will ever go through. He understands what my sweet little young woman is going through, so even when I don't know how to help her, He does.
It's nice to know someone else is in charge. :)
Right now, one of the ladies I visit teach has a lot on her plate. And I struggle to know how to help her. In fact, all 4 of the sweet ladies I visit have something they are struggling with and I often wish I knew how to do more for them.
Meanwhile, a few of my young women are at a crossroads. They are making some huge life decisions right now that will most certainly lead them far away from the gospel path. I lay awake at night, long after Burke is breathing deeply beside me and worry about them. With one of my girls in particular I feel such a weight of responsibility to help her, to lift her, to guide her. She does not have a single respectable adult role model to teach her right from wrong. She lives in a terrible environment surrounded by dark influences. Her poor choices are therefore tragically understandable. This little girl has been handed the worst deck of cards in her life and sometimes when I look at her, I just want to cry. How is she possibly expected to make it out of that trap? How can she survive? Why would a loving Heavenly Father place so many trials upon her in her short life while I have lived a life of such a relative ease?
When I find myself asking hard questions like this that I have no answers for, I have to stop and remind myself of the the answers I have gained in my life, the things I do know.
I know God loves us. I know he loves the ladies I visit teach and I know he loves this little girl.
I know that he sent us here to learn and grow and to do so we must be tried and tested. I know that he does not give us trials that we are incapable of overcoming. I know that.
I know that this little girl must have so much to offer the world if she is being tested in this way.
I know that the only way for her to survive the chaos of her life is to turn to Jesus Christ.
I know that it is only in and through His atonement, His love and His plan that we can be happy. That is why I have been so incredibly happy in my life - because I believe this - because I know it.
In the General Relief Society meeting in October of this past year, Linda Burton (the new General Relief Society President) used an expression that has stuck with me and that I frequently think of in these moments. She said, "All that is unfair about life can be made right through the Atonement of Jesus Christ." (Her beautiful words found HERE).
What does that mean exactly, "all that is unfair"?
My Dad sent a quote back in January in his weekly letter from Chieko N. Okazaki (former 1st Counselor of the General Relief Society) that seems to answer that question perfectly. It's a long quote, but well worth the read. She said:
"We know that Jesus experienced the totality of mortal existence in Gethsemane. It's our faith that he experienced everything- absolutely everything. Sometimes we don't think through the implications of that belief.
We talk in great generalities about the sins of all humankind, about the suffering of the entire human family. But we don't experience pain in generalities. We experience it individually. That means he knows what it felt like when your mother died of cancer- how it was for your mother, how it still is for you. He knows what it felt like to lose the student body election. He knows that moment when the brakes locked and the car started to skid. He experienced the slave ship sailing from Ghana toward Virginia. He experienced the gas chambers at Dachau.
He experienced Napalm in Vietnam. He knows about drug addiction and alcoholism. Let me go further. There is nothing you have experienced as a woman that he does not also know and recognize. On a profound level, he understands the hunger to hold your baby that sustains you through pregnancy. He understands both the physical pain of giving birth and the immense joy. He knows about PMS and cramps and menopause. He understands about rape and infertility and abortion. His last recorded words to his disciples were, 'And, lo, I am with you always, even unto the end of the world.' (Matthew 28:20)
He understands your mother-pain when your five-year-old leaves for kindergarten, when a bully picks on your fifth-grader, when your daughter calls to say that the new baby has Down syndrome. He knows your mother-rage when a trusted babysitter sexually abuses your two-year-old, when someone gives your thirteen-year-old drugs, when someone seduces your seventeen-year-old.
He knows the pain you live with when you come home to a quiet apartment where the only children are visitors, when you hear that your former husband and his new wife were sealed in the temple last week, when your fiftieth wedding anniversary rolls around and your husband has been dead for two years. He knows all that. He's been there. He's been lower than all that. He's not waiting for us to be perfect. Perfect people don't need a Savior. He came to save his people in their imperfections.
He is the Lord of the living, and the living make mistakes. He's not embarrassed by us, angry at us, or shocked. He wants us in our brokenness, in our unhappiness, in our guilt and our grief. You know that people who live above a certain latitude and experience very long winter nights can become depressed and even suicidal, because something in our bodies requires whole spectrum light for a certain number of hours a day. Our spiritual requirement for light is just as desperate and as deep as our physical need for light. Jesus is the light of the world.
We know that this world is a dark place sometimes, but we need not walk in darkness. The people who sit in darkness have seen a great light, and the people who walk in darkness can have a bright companion. We need him, and He is ready to come to us, if we'll open the door and let him."
(Chieko N. Okazaki, Lighten Up, Preface, p. 174)
When I read that I am reminded that, although I may not have all the answer, He does. He has experienced every hardship we will ever go through. He understands what my sweet little young woman is going through, so even when I don't know how to help her, He does.
It's nice to know someone else is in charge. :)
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