What a journey this week has been.
I want you to imagine for a minute that you are a young, 20-year-old, short, blond sister missionary who probably cares a little too much (if that is even possible) about the people that she visits and associates with. That is a strong point of mine, I feel. And I'm a little tiny bit proud of it.
And now, with that knowledge, please imagine that you go to a lesson prepared to listen and what you hear from your dear investigator is that she doesn't feel like you care. She feels disrespected and disregarded. By you, specifically. Not your companion, just you. And imagine, also, that the whole day you have been struggling to stay sane because you are under an incredible amount of stress caused primarily by the fact that you haven't slept a reasonable amount in a whole week. So then this criticism (which, though it was definitely deserved and valid, was not delivered with any tact or grace whatsoever) cuts you to the very center. You cry. Hard. Like, makeup running down your face, excuse-me-I-need-to-use-the-re
(I know, I know. It sounds silly that something so small could have so great an effect, and I know that, but Satan uses any weakness that he knows we have, and one of mine is anxiety, which gives me a fair bit of tunnel vision when it comes to hard experiences. I have never been great at taking criticism, let alone pretty insulting criticism, no matter how much I deserve it. It feels like the end of the world to me. It might be a pride issue, and I'm working on that. And, it really is affected by the way I take care of my body. If I'm not sleeping, my emotional responses get really irrational.)
Eventually the tears slow enough to clean off the mascara lines, and you stand up to face the future with a pretty much dead heart. Words are exchanged, things are said that help mend the relationship, but you are still broken and hurt. What is the purpose of me, you think, if I can't help the people around me to feel loved?
That night in your prayers you might be tempted to be angry. Given the incredibly transcendent and beautiful spiritual experiences of the week before, you might be wondering why, when you have thrown your heart and soul into this and your other relationships and the experiences of your mission, you are now experiencing so much pain and heartache.
Not this sister missionary.
Maybe for a split second, I did wonder why, but I quickly remembered the reason. Somewhere in the back of my mind, a concept I taught to that very investigator touched down. Satan tries in direct connection to the effort you put forth. If you are on the right track, there will always be opposition. It WILL be hard. And the closer you get, the more powerful the opposition will become. Satan does not want you to reach the heights God has prepared for you. So just hold on.
I still had pain in my heart. I don't want you to think that when I thought of that, all the sadness I felt just went away. There was still exhaustion; there was still a lot of self-doubt and maybe even just a little bit of anguish. I did not immediately find a solution to the pain. It's not reasonable to assume you always will.
But I did know something else. The next day was General Conference. "Ask, and ye shall receive," I thought, somewhat sarcastically, somewhat hopefully. And so I asked God that night to simply help me feel of His love as I watched.
The solemn assembly was the first instance in which I could feel the Lord touching my life. Standing as a woman of the Relief Society and offering my sustaining hand reminded me of my purpose - to serve. Even if that service is rejected, and even if I don't do it the way I should every time, and even when I mess up and make a muddle of things, if I focus on others and on the Lord, my focus is on the right thing. And then when I stood with the worldwide member of the Church to witness before God and my companion that I knew President Nelson to be a prophet, the Lord noticed me. I can't describe the feeling in any other way but that. I saw the Conference Center full of saints and felt a part of them. And it was almost like God was saying to me, "I see you. I see that you're trying. And I'm so proud."
And then the next talk was by Elder Taylor, who beautifully spoke about our divine identities. The clear message from the Lord was, "you belong to me. You may be imperfect, and others may judge you, but I know you, I created you, and I love you, even when you fall and especially when you get up and keep trying." The Lord reminded me who I was in a dark chapel and that feeling is a feeling I can never deny or forget.
And then Sunday? Forget about it. It was just the greatest. To have a prophet of the Lord speak to us on Easter Sunday, the day directly analogous to the day the Resurrected Lord appeared to Mary Magdalene and conquered all the consequences of the fall of Adam, was a huge blessing. I felt all day that the green of the earth was rejoicing with my heart, singing "He is risen! He is risen!" These sacred experiences are worth every trial, every heartache, every anxious moment, every sacrifice I have to make.
This life-changing Easter week has been so wonderful. The heavens were opened for me. I felt God's constant care and His strength supporting me. And the insane spurts of personal revelation were smattered with appearances from my DAD (singing in the Tabernacle Choir)!!! So that was really cool. I still flip out every time they show him. It's really fun.
So basically, even though I am a crazy person, and even though I experience irrational thoughts, and even though I am never as kind or as Christlike as I need to be, the Lord knows my heart. He sees how hard I try. He knows the things that I am weakest in, and He sent His Son to overcome those things for me so that I can access that strength and act.
I know that to be true. This is my absolute testimony to you: that God loves us all. That He so loved us that He sent His Son. And that by Him, we can be saved through the grace of Christ.
So if you are struggling for breath as you tread these troubled waters of life, please reach out to the Savior. Remember He can walk these oceans you're toiling over. Remember that He will never leave you comfortless, but as often as you call He will send strength to help you overcome. You may not immediately feel better, but you will make it. And you will be better because of it. This I know for certain.
I love you all.
Don't let those muggles get you down.
-Sister Pew
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