Cemented into My Heart

July 4, 2022

I’ve waited approximately 5 years and 7 months for it to happen. Patiently (and sometimes not so patiently), I’ve been waiting.

Desperate for it to happen. Desperate for my heart to let Him in.

I’ve read books. I’ve paid extra careful attention during seminary, Sunday school, and young women’s. I’ve listened and listened and listened as people expressed their love for Him, often saying that He is their “best friend.”

It frustrated me to hear that, but I think I was mostly jealous.

Why couldn’t He be my best friend? Why couldn’t I love Him? Why, when He has been knocking and knocking, could I not open the door and let Him in?

Actively, I tried and tried to love Him, to let Him in. I started books like, “Believing Christ” and “Let God Love You” and later (in college), “The Jesus We Missed”.

I’ll be honest and say that I never finished them (maybe that’s why nothing changed haha 😂).

I read the Book of Mormon and prayed.

And prayed.

And prayed.

And prayed some more.

But, this genuine love, this sincere gratitude, never came.

I would have moments where I had mini breakthroughs.

One of the breakthrough moments was in 2015, at EFY during one of Scott Anderson’s classes. He had a class called, “Our Savior’s Love.”

The class was the most powerful class I’ve ever had in my entire life.

I don’t even know how to begin to explain what that experience was like. It was simply incredible. And indescribable. I remember the spirit being tangible and alive in the room, and I don’t think there was one dry eye around. Not only did I cry, but my body wracked with sobs. There have only been a few instances in my life where I have cried so hard that my body was actually shaking, and this was one of them. It was so apparent that Jesus Christ knew me and loved me, and I’m sure everyone in that room felt it too.

Another one of the moments was when I watched “Where Justice, Love, and Mercy Meet” in seminary.

To summarize briefly, it is about two brothers who decide to climb this mountain wall. Towards the top, they realize they are stuck because the ledge protrudes outwards and is not something someone can easily climb.

The elder brother helped the younger brother climb up and then told him to go find a branch to possibly help the older brother get up. Knowing that his older brother was going to jump, the younger brother waited quietly, just waiting for his brother to make the leap.

And when he did, the younger brother grasped his arms with all his strength and lifted him up over the edge, saving his life.

This situation is then compared to the Savior. How we leap and hope to grasp onto anything to be able to pull ourselves up, only to be rescued by the matchless power of the Savior as he held onto us with all His heart.

I had seen the video before, but this time that I watched it, it was different. It struck a chord in me. It was a sweet spirit that touched my heart, and I felt very grateful for it.

I felt His love, and this was progress for me!

Then later, the progress fell to the ground and splattered on the floor. In my deepest darkest moments, I just looked at that video and wondered why He didn’t just drop me. Why He didn’t let me fall? In fact, I was angry that He didn’t just drop me. (If you don’t know the story, watch the video and it will make more sense.)

I wanted to jump. I didn’t want to be saved.

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Although the words and paragraphs above are vulnerable for me, this next part is probably the most vulnerable for me. In fact, sharing this with you terrifies me beyond belief.

But I’m being brave, I’m bearing my soul, in hopes that someone else relates to it and finds comfort that they aren’t alone in these controversial feelings and rare thoughts.

I’ve already made super deep connections with people by taking the plunge and sharing this part of my story, and because of that, I feel it could be beneficial to share more openly.

November 28, 2022

I avoided this for a long time because I was too scared to write this part. I’ve written everything around this part and just skipped this, holding off for another day.

Perhaps today I can be brave enough to take the step and open up. 

Perhaps today I can write one of the most vulnerable things about me…deep breath.

It starts at a young age, but specifically when I was 13 years old.

It was probably the darkest time of my entire life.

Almost no one knew it, however, because I was great at pretending. Straight A’s and nearly perfect attendance in school.

Dedication and hard work. Commitment. Effort. I gave school and life all I had, everyday.

I went to church even though my heart was absolutely broken.

Broken because I was taught that during the darkest of times (and brightest of times), Heavenly Father would be there for me.

But more specifically, the Savior would be there for me. And not only for me, but with me.

By my side, carrying me if needed.

It just didn’t feel that way.

In fact, I often wondered if God was up there in Heaven, looking down, enjoying the popcorn.

Enjoying the show.

Enjoying the mess that my life was. Enjoying my shattered heart and broken soul.

I never doubted that they weren’t real. I just didn’t want their help or support when I wasn’t getting it anyway. Or at least not feeling like I was.

One of the only things that comforted me at the time was pointing up to Heaven and saying, “Stay away from me. Leave me alone,” again and again.

If I pushed Him away, then I couldn’t be hurt even more by his absence in my life.

Now this is the part that really scares me to say, the part that I’m most vulnerable about…but maybe you’ve already come to this conclusion yourself.

I hated Him. I hated Jesus Christ. I was mad at Him. I was angry. I didn’t like that He atoned for my sins, I didn’t like that I was dependent on Him, I didn’t like that everyone loved Him, I didn’t like the emptiness I felt when I thought of Him. The feelings of betrayal.

In reality, these feelings of hatred only covered up the very deep emotional hurt. Hurt that He wasn’t there for me. Hurt that He had abandoned me.

Hurt that He had given up on me.

It just didn’t make sense because I was trying so hard to be good enough for Him. I was trying so hard to please Him. I was trying so hard to do what was right, and not because I wanted to check the boxes on a list of “righteous actions” but because I truly wanted to be good.

I wanted to feel worthy of His sacrifice and of His love.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t really work that way.

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Then, when I was 14, I had a young women leader tell me that she was nervous I was going to grow up and become very bitter towards the church. Let’s just say I got out of her car pretty quickly after that. (We were sitting in front of my house talking.)

And although I had an abundance of pain in my heart (depression sucks man), I looked at that statement and said, “No.” Nope. I was not going to do that. She didn’t know me. She wasn’t allowed to say those things to me.

Because in my mind, if I hadn’t fallen away already, why the heck would I fall away now?! I took this comment with me to prove to myself that I was strong. I was brave. I was capable. I was faithful. I was determined.

I would not turn away bitter, no matter what.

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Okay sooooo…I know I’ve talked about FSY again and again and again, but it is hard not to when it completely changed me and brought so much light into my life.

It is hard not to when it accomplished the one thing I have wanted ALL MY LIFE.

It finally gave me the opportunity and ability to love Jesus Christ. Miracle upon miracle occurred, opening my heart and finally, finally, letting Him in.

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One of the miracles that took place was the love that I had for my youth. My kids. 

On July 6, 2022, I wrote this to them: (none of them have read it yet)

To my youth, to my kiddos: 

Thank you from the very bottom of my heart. Because of you, a miracle occurred. You have given me a miracle. You have given me a gift. You have done more for me than I could ever do for you. You have helped me find something that I was looking so desperately for. You have blessed my life.

When I think of the Savior, I think of you. I think of how much I love you. I think of His arms, open and ready to embrace you. I think of His atoning sacrifice, done for you. I think of how He made that infinite sacrifice for you and for me, and I feel so immensely grateful. Because of Him, we can see each other again.

I don’t know if you noticed, but I don’t think I ever said, “goodbye.” I almost always said, “see you next time.” I believe there will be a next time. I believe we will be able to reunite and rejoice together. I believe I will get the opportunity to embrace you again. 

I’m so excited for that day.

So my dear friends, stay strong and stay true. I hope you always remember how much you are loved and how cherished you are. I hope you remember that you have the power to change lives and alter eternities for the better. I hope you know that I will always love you and will always be grateful to you.

Please don’t give up. 

And If you feel your faith failing, remember it only takes a mustard seed. For a mustard seed of faith can move mountains.

Matthew 17:20 says, “…If ye have faith as a grain of mustard seed, ye shall say unto this mountain, Remove hence to yonder place; and it shall remove; and nothing shall be impossible unto you.”

Trust in the Lord, and He shall direct thy paths. I promise.

I want you to know that I love Him. I love Him so much it hurts. When I think of Him, I want to hug and rejoice with Him. I want to cry and express my genuine gratitude for His love and sacrifice. I want to thank Him for sacrificing Himself for you AND for me. I want to express to Him how hard I worked to love Him and tell Him that our relationship will always be special to me.

Although waiting and waiting for this love to come was the absolute worst, the love has finally arrived. It finally broke through the wall along my heart.

And nothing and NO ONE can take it away from me. Absolutely nothing.

Russell M. Nelson said, “No one can ever take away a witness borne to your heart and mind about what is true.”

I couldn’t have said it better myself.

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Another one of the miracles that occurred at FSY was when a session director shared the story of the woman with the blood disease.

You see, there are a plethora of stories in the scriptures that show Christ’s goodness, mercy, and love. But this story, at this time, at this place, told by this man is when a miracle commenced.

Why?

Because I was ready to hear it, and because the session director told it in a way that was hard to miss.

In the process of going to heal a sick young girl (the daughter of the man leading Jesus to His house), a woman touched His garments. She was hoping for a miracle. She was hoping to be healed of this terrible and horrific blood disease.

And when Jesus felt this touch, He took the time and the effort to stop, make sure she was okay, acknowledge her faith, and THEN go on to heal the man’s sick daughter. 

He felt a little bit of virtue leave Him, and He wanted to make sure that the woman didn’t spend the rest of her life feeling guilty for “stealing” some of the Savior’s power. He wanted to ensure that she knew that her faith had made her WHOLE. He said, “Daughter, be of good comfort; thy faith hath made thee whole” (Matthew 9:22).

When that session director shared that story with us, emphasizing that Jesus took the time to make sure she knew she was loved, it just about broke my heart. And then healed it. 

Mended it right there on the spot.

And from that moment on, my love, my gratitude, my appreciation, and my abounding joy for Him has grown. Multiplied. 

It became something beautiful. And continues to grow and develop.

And once again, my favorite part about all of this is that absolutely NO ONE can take it away from me.

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My little seven year-old sister said the prayer over breakfast one morning, and in the prayer, she said, “Please know that we all love you Jesus,” (isn’t she so cute?!) and I stood there after she said “amen” and agreed. I do love Jesus. I can sincerely and genuinely and honestly say that I agree.

I’ve never been able to say that before. I’ve never been able to agree to such a sweet and simple sentiment.

But I could that day.

Because now, my love for Him is inscribed into my soul.

My love for Him is cemented into my heart.

And it will be for forever more