First of all, I love the gospel of Jesus Christ. I love this season of joy because it is when so many hearts are turned to God and serving others. I think I take this knowledge for granted all too often, and so I consistently make goals to share it with those who are not so lucky to know God as their loving Father in Heaven, and Jesus Christ as their Savior, Redeemer, & Friend.
During sacrament meeting I like to assess my life and the areas that I would like to improve. While taking inventory of my life 8 days ago, I felt very strongly that there was someone that needed me to share my knowledge of the restored gospel of Jesus Christ with him/her over the break. Someone that needed to know that not only was Christ's doctrine applicable in the ancient world, but also in our day--that His church is again on the Earth--exactly as it was when he ministered to the people in Jerusalem--that personal revelation and healing and guidance and the constant companionship of the Holy Ghost are as real and vital as ever before. I made note in my journal to take an extra copy of the Book of Mormon with me when I left for Colorado with Jason. Not 2 hours during the women's meeting at church (Relief Society) a woman stood and announced that she had 4 Book of Mormon's (Books of Mormon?!?) that she would like to challenge 4 of us to give out over the holiday... I asked for one, and chuckled how God invited me so quickly to take steps toward my goal to share His love with someone who He'd prepared for it.
Many things happened during those 8 days--as you can infer from previous posts--and I didn't even really know which way was up to be honest... But as Scott said when I was training for the Tri-state marathon... "it's just one foot in front of the other, Ash..." I could do that...just keep moving one step at a time. And, as Bishop Angelos (now Pres. Angelos) used to remind us--just show up and open your mouth--I could do that. Allow God to lead me and be willing to open my mouth when He did. At times I question how God could possibly work through me amid grief, loss, sadness, or even physical exhaustion... but then I remember the promise contained in Preach My Gospel about finding people ready to receive His love--that either God will lead me to them, or He will lead them to me--and He does. Over and over again!
On an hour of sleep, and before my mother and I left for the airport at 6 o'clock in the morning I asked if we could pray together, and remembering that God had someone ready for me to speak with, I prayed specifically for that experience and the courage to open my mouth and look beyond my own pain and see as God would have me see things.
Getting to the airport just in time to catch my flight, and exhausted of all my emotional and physical strength, I was asleep before our plane took off, and woke up as we touched down in St. Louis. We'd had a 110mph tail wind and arrived 30 min. before schedule--so my layover was 3 hours long--still so tired--I slept again--waking up just in time to switch gates as announced and board the plane. As I was getting on the plane, I felt that I was to sit in a certain seat and that someone would sit by me and that God had prepared her heart to hear more of his gospel. An off duty stewardess sat on the isle, and I in the window seat. The plane continued to fill, they announced it would be a full flight, and no one sat by us. The doors closed and they announced that as soon as our new pilot arrived we were ready to take off. Confused, I thought--ok--I'll sleep again. But I pulled out the Book of Mormon and decided that if God is going to work through me--he cannot draw from an empty well--and now more than ever I needed to fill the void. I need the light of Christ in my life, I need a greater understanding of his doctrine and I need greater faith. I studied in Alma about faith, and then in Mosiah about the power of the Resurrection and the Atonement. The door to the plane was opened, our pilot boarded, and so did another passenger--a man. I could have been wrong that there was a woman to share the gospel with on my flight I thought as he came to sit by us--and then after putting his suitcase in the overhead bin--he bid his wife (who'd since boarded) to sit by us.
Her name was Mary.
A passionate black woman from Detroit Michigan who wore a cross near her heart and the light of Christ in her eyes. Her faith radiated and penetrated my heart. I was immediately scared--afraid of my thoughts and feelings and testimony of God's love being rejected. Trying to wiggle out of the responsibility to share with her--I asked God for affirmation: "is this really who you want me to talk to..."
A solid yes. I knew before I even asked. Now I just prayed my little heart out for the opportunity to arise. Mary started talking to the stewardess and I felt rather relieved and studied quietly on my own--writing thoughts and impressions--kind of in my own little world. It has always been hard for me to talk to strangers about things that matter to me, I am constantly afraid of people seeing who I am and what matters to me and rejecting me--but I knew what God expected of me--and even if I fell flat on my face--I had shown up--and now it was time to open my mouth. I started with small talk about where she as from and if Orlando was home or if she was just going to enjoy sunny Florida for the holidays. She got a rather sad look on her face and said- no. She was from Michigan and that the holidays had always been there and would always be there--in her home with her family--filled with love and the spirit of God. And then she proceeded to tell me how her daughter died this year and she just couldn't celebrate the same way. That the family needed a change and it was too hard to face it as it had always been with her there.
Stunned.
I apologized for her loss and told her I could relate in a very small way. I know that I have never loved as a mother, or lost as a mother, and even if our experiences were the same, we are different people who cope very differently and that only one individual could know exactly how Mary felt--Jesus Christ himself. So many things running through my head--the scriptures I had just studied in Mosiah about the sting of death being swallowed up in the Resurrection of Christ. That through faith in Jesus Christ, all things are possible--even if we only have a desire to believe--God can work with that. I tried not to get choked up thinking that if Scott had not died 2 years ago--I wouldn't have had to ask those soul-wrenching questions. I wouldn't have just boarded a plane for Florida to escape the pain of sitting at Christmas dinner with his empty chair, or Christmas Eve when I'd make his favorite homemade pizza or play with his kids and watch the joy of the season fill their hearts. or think of the good holiday memories--like when Stockton knocked over the wise man in Mom's expensive nativity and then sweetly sang "the wise man built his house upon the rock." Or how he and I would spend hours making the Christmas village all over mom's house, or the year we weren't going tohve Christmas after the divorce and he came into some money and took care of it, or the woman he helped have Christmas for her Children when he and hi own family were struggling to make it, or the year he made me feel ok that we were eating out of unmarked cans--food that had been given to us--or how when he'd ask me what was wrong he'd force me to be authentic... My heart turned to his birthday that is just after Christmas and how I still can't eat mint chocolate chip ice cream cake from BR without bursting into tears, how almost everyday I think of what I would say to him if I had the chance, or how I can help someone else as a result of what I've learned, or to always express my love to people I care about because their life may be cut short and then I will learn to deal with regret and struggle to love myself because I wish I had done better.
Having all these thoughts hit me at once, I realized that some of the things in my life had enabled God to work through me. My heart had been made tender through loss and burned within my chest to help her find comfort through Christ. Still unsure of how exactly to bring in the Book of Mormon that I knew was for her, without being pushy or failing to acknowledge the great faith that she already had--she looked at the Book and asked if I was studying for school. I told her no, that I was reading about Christ & his teachings. She told me how lucky I was--that she had figured she'd read the one in the hotel because packing Christmas gifts for her children and Grand children--there was no way she'd be under the weight limit at he airport--and how she realized she'd be in a timeshare and not have one to read.
God is wonderful. I told her a little about the book, wrote my testimony in it, highlighted the passages I had told her about and included in it my number, or lds.org if she had any questions. She told me how wonderful it was to learn about God--how at 4 or 5 she asked her son what he wanted to be when he grew up--and how he answered that he'd like to teach people about God. When I gave her the book, she had hard time accepting it, but was so grateful and surprised I would give it to her, I told her that I knew that God loved her and wanted her to have it. The stewardess leaned over, and said--there was definitely a reason that we'd sat together today--and how that was her favorite part of her job was seeing things like that orchestrated each day and learning who people are and what is important to them.
Mary was so excited she showed her husband as soon as we got off the plane.
As I sat and waited for Christianne & Niki I pondered over the things that had just taken place. That feeling of God's love for Mary that had healed a hundred sorrows and calmed a great deal of turbulence in my soul. It was then that I again realized that God knows all things. He knew that my holiday plans would change and that I would be on that flight to Orlando. He knows me. He knows Mary. He Loves each one of us. He hears and answers prayers and it is through faith in Him that we learn and grow and become better. He understands our heartache and will consecrate it for good if we bring our broken heart to Him. I love God and this season that invites His love and light into so many homes.
Tonight as we lit luminaries for the FHE at Christianne's, and I watched as the missionaries and neighbors came to sing carols and rejoice--I thought of the symbolism of those lights--inviting others to come into the home and feel the joy that comes through Jesus Christ.
I want that joy and light to fill my heart and home now and always and will work to attain that goal. I want everyone to know the reason I have to hope, and the source of the light in my eyes.
God lives. He loves each one of us. He has a plan for each one us. He knew that we would not be perfect and so He provided a savior for us--His only beloved son--a sacrifice I cannot yet fathom--but that enables me to become better. It provides a perfect example for me to follow, agency to decide for myself and the strength to overcome my weaknesses, to feel joy and happiness and to attain eternal life with those I love and the many others God will place in my path.
May the light of Christ bring you the joy and happiness and answers you seek through this Christmas season and always--Merry Christmas!
