Is It Hard?

This morning I had the opportunity to press the snooze button a few too many times.  Sore and exhausted from a long car ride yesterday, I took advantage of the option to stare at my phone for a few minutes as I listened to the usual hums of morning life. The wind chimes were clanging an anthem outside, the local weather informing us that tornado weather was nearby. I remembered knocking on doors during a tornado warning, wearing a skirt that wasn’t too good for the wind. People told my companion and I to go home. We weren’t fazed by it, much like I wasn’t as I lied in bed.

Breakfast was had too late. My routine was entirely thrown off, as it happens frequently. A cloud hung over me; nothing heavy or light. It was just there. Even as I tried to put myself to work, it didn’t leave. I ran in place a few times as I went from room to room, picking up this and that. The dogs eyed me from afar, ears raised, tails twitching. They haven’t been sure what to do with me since I’ve come home. I’m not sure I’ve known quite what to do with myself either.

Transitions are hard. Transitions take time. Even if you haven’t served a mission, adjusting and transitioning is always hard. Any time we move to a new place, take a new step, even make a new friend, we want everything to be perfect the moment it begins. We want to be settled. We want to be comfortable. We want to know everything.

I’ve always had a hard time with newness. I’ve always had this mix of dread and excitement about new things, but that quickly turns to frustration as I realize how much I feel like a porcupine in a container of gerbils.

I had the opportunity to go to Washington D.C. with my Grandma. We’d set aside our Wednesday for a trip to the temple—the house of the Lord.

If you don’t know much about Latter-day Saint temples, click here.

I had never been to this temple before. I’d only ever seen it in pictures. I was used to taking trips to the infamous Salt Lake City temple, or travelling a couple of hours less to the weensy temple in Monticello, Utah. I didn’t know what to expect as we made our four-hour drive to Kensington; the only thoughts I had were those feelings I’d experienced while listening to inspired apostles and prophets over the weekend. With every message they gave, thoughts and feelings impressed to me that I needed to go to the temple.

We rounded corners through a large park, trees towering over us on either side. Bikers cycled down the road, couples walked their kids by a quiet creek, birds chirped gently underneath the sound of a somewhat distant highway. Peace was spoken there.

We made a turn uphill and found ourselves nearly nose-to-nose with a castle straight out of Sleeping Beauty. The building I’d underestimated in photos seemed impossible in front of me. The artfully stacked white granite topped with lancing golden spires were stark against the brimming blue sky. All attention was called to this magnificent structure, but the air of humility turned the attention to something that wasn’t quite about the building itself—but what went on inside of it.

There are 155 temples in operation today. No matter where I go, I know I will be able to find a temple. They are all beautiful, awe-inspiring creations. Never would I have imagined that such castles fit for a king were meant for me.

I remember sitting on a pristinely white chair in the temple. The room was still. No music played. No one whispered. The scriptures were spanned on my lap, fingers drawing across a few lines of a verse. I’d looked up at the sound of the crystals on the chandelier clinking together and caught a look of myself in a wall of mirrors.

The Spirit touched my heart then, and a very gentle thought came to mind: You are your Heavenly Father’s daughter. This is how He sees you.

In that moment, I learned a small fragment of my purpose. I was sent to where I was at this time, just like I was with my mission call, for a reason specific to me. I don’t know what it is. I probably won’t for a very long time. That’s okay. In that moment, I knew God loved me. I knew so specifically, and understood so sincerely that I was His daughter and what that meant. This feeling I had; the peace, the strength, the confidence I felt there is what I was supposed to have. This was home.

I am destined for greatness, and so are you. We are here to build God’s kingdom, but we are not meant to be peasants. We are here to follow the Prince of Peace, our Lord and our Savior, Jesus Christ. No matter what your religion or beliefs, I know that we are all looking for happiness. We ultimately just want to be satisfied and happy in our circumstances.

I have learned to find this in the gospel of Jesus Christ. This gospel is faith in Him, repentance, baptism by immersion for the remission of sins, receiving the gift of the Holy Ghost through the laying on of hands, and enduring to the end. Each step has a lot to it, but even so this path has been paved so clearly and distinctly. We wouldn’t be able to make it to the end without Jesus Christ.

In The Living Christ, we read: “[Jesus Christ] gave his life to atone for the sins of all mankind. He was a great vicarious gift in behalf of all who would ever live upon the earth.”

It is through Christ’s sacrifice that I am able to have everything. I have my home, my family, and my future thanks to Jesus Christ. I have the opportunity to be forgiven for my wrongs, the adventure of becoming a new person in Him, and the reassurance of a life beyond my comprehension. I also have the comfort that He is with me every step of the way. No struggle, no transition, no obstacle is too hard for Him. I might not know what it feels like to lose a spouse, or what it’s like to be frustrated over my children, or to experience whatever this new place you’re in chooses to throw at you. But by golly, Christ does. He has overcome the world for you (John 16:33).  

Pray. Read your scriptures. Go to church. Do yoga or something. Go hiking! Do something to bring yourself closer to God, and you will find your way back home. It might take talking to a friend or family member, writing in your journal, listening to some music. Do what you feel you need to do, or better yet do what God needs you to do. You'll find it.

I know that Christ lives. That love that I felt was made possible through Him. I am able to return to God’s presence because of the grace and merits of Jesus Christ.

And so are you.

Don’t deny your divine heritage. You are a child of God.

Have a good week.