After the winter solstice, my friend wrote on Instagram, "The longest, darkest night is past." That phrase has been running through my head these last few days, and I want to hold onto it. I keep thinking about the motions of earth and heaven, the way that sunlight and summer are decreed and set in motion long before we actually feel their effects. There is something so comforting in the fact that the days, while they seem so short and weak, are marching, undeterred, toward brilliance and light! The process has already begun—events have already been set in motion—and now, all we have to do is keep going!
The other day I happened to be waiting in the temple chapel completely alone for a good amount of time. There is a large portrait of Jesus Christ at the front of the room, and as I looked at it, I whispered to myself the words of "
The Living Christ," which I have just finished memorizing.
(It took a great deal of prodding to get me to this point. I feel like I've spent a good part of my life
refusing to memorize "The Living Christ"—first I was called to be Young Women's president a month or so before the stake young women had been challenged to finish memorizing it, and there was no way I was going to deal with all the responsibilities of this scary new calling and learn "The Living Christ" TOO! Then a couple years later, our stake president asked all the youth and their families to memorize it, and we didn't have any "youth" in our home yet, so we didn't do that either. When we got asked
again to study it, by President Nelson in April 2017, I thought, "Fine! We'll do it." But even then, we didn't start till 2018, and we've been working on it most of the year. It seemed like we'd never finish!)
Anyway, as I sat there in the silence, looking at that picture and thinking of what Christ has done—who He is—and what He means—I felt such great gratitude for every effort I have made to get to know Him. Oh, I haven't done anything that impressive. I've reluctantly and belatedly taken that Living Christ challenge (not sure I could do it; not sure it would pay off), and in spite of my hesitancy I have grown to love and cherish every bit of it. My favorite part is the section that quotes the Prophet Joseph Smith's words, describing Jesus Christ:
“His eyes were as a flame of fire; the hair of his head was white like the pure snow; his countenance shone above the brightness of the sun; and his voice was as the sound of the rushing of great waters, even the voice of Jehovah, saying:
“I am the first and the last; I am he who liveth, I am he who was slain; I am your advocate with the Father.”
Of Him the Prophet also declared: “And now, after the many testimonies which have been given of him, this is the testimony, last of all, which we give of him: That he lives!
“For we saw him, even on the right hand of God; and we heard the voice bearing record that he is the Only Begotten of the Father—
“That by him, and through him, and of him, the worlds are and were created, and the inhabitants thereof are begotten sons and daughters unto God.”
Other than that, I have accepted President Nelson's invitation to read the Book of Mormon through before this year ends, and I have found Jesus Christ in practically every line and every page of that book. I'm about halfway through reading the
Topical Guide entries about Christ. And I've been trying to improve my relationship with Him through prayer for many years now. But I still don't feel like any sort of authority on what He is really like. Yet—I am gradually assembling scraps of surety about Him—my own interactions with Him, or secondhand testimony that goes down into my bones and becomes my own, like that of Joseph Smith's above. Yes, I am becoming more acquainted with Jesus Christ. Slowly.
But—sometimes I get impatient. I want to know Him better NOW. I do treasure the glimpses I have—but I wish they were more than glimpses. I wish I didn't have to so often stretch and wonder and guess at what I am meant to learn!
But as I sat looking at Jesus Christ's portrait, thinking back on this past year of growth, and full of these words I have been "treasuring up"—the beautiful
testimony of the Twelve Apostles, the powerful testimonies of the Book of Mormon prophets, Christ's own words to the Nephites and to us all—I was overwhelmed by the feeling that every hour, every
minute I spend seeking to know Him better is worth any cost, any frustration, any difficulty. And each of those moments of effort will,
without fail, take me further along the path back to Him—whether I can detect that motion or not.
President Hinckley bore his testimony of Christ way back when I was two years old. He spoke in words that have recently become familiar to me, words in which I recognize his voice in from "The Living Christ" as well. And the message hasn't changed:
The keystone of [our] doctrine is that God is our Eternal Father and Jesus is the Christ, our living Redeemer. We are sons and daughters of God. He loves us and invites us to love him.
This post will publish on Christmas Day, and it seems right to share my testimony of Jesus Christ on the day we celebrate His birth. But, "after the many testimonies which have been given of Him," mine seems so inadequate. Joseph Smith could follow up his testimony, "that He lives," with: "for we saw Him!" I can't say that, and what I can say seems small next to it. But though small, it is my own, hard-won, and still-growing: I know Christ lives, and I know He loves me. And I know that every tiny step toward Him is a step toward light and joy.
In the temple, as I sat and wished I could somehow reach deeper into heaven, these words
from Daniel entered my heart like God was speaking them straight to me:
Fear not…for from the first day that thou didst set thine heart to understand…thy words were heard, and I am come for thy words.
I know it's true. It was all set in motion long ago—before this life, before I can even remember. It started with our Father and His plan for us; it started when I chose as a spirit to follow Christ and when I shouted for joy at His goodness. The times and seasons of God's great love are already turning toward the springtime and the dawn, even while the night still seems darkest to me.
And, though my own progress is slow, Christ comes so quickly every time I reach for Him! So quickly that, in the very moment that I finally overcome my fears or laziness or pride, and ASK—I see that He had already started coming—indeed—He is already here.
Other posts in this series:
