The Sacrament That Spoke To Me

This may be the only Easter post that I find the time for this year.

I have just been so swamped.

I guess I am really playing catch up for blogging way too much for the past month or so.

Tonight, while deciding which post to do first,

I decided to start with the one that meant the most to me.

I hope that is o.k. with the rest of you.

On this Easter Sunday, as I took the Sacrament at church, I was reminded of a special experience I had a while back. This experience deepened my love for my Savior, Jesus Christ, and I hope it will do the same for the rest of you, even if you're not a mother.

It was one of those moments in life; it was so minuscule, and especially so if compared to the vast eternities. Without the presence of the Holy Spirit it was a moment that could never be recalled. I was a new mother desperate for some quiet time in my life. I desired nothing more than a period of 5 minutes where I could just be close to God. This Sunday, during the Sacrament, I wanted my participation in the Lord's Supper to find meaning again. For months, if not years, it had just seemed to be a jumble of trying to quiet my three small daughters. I needed to feel closer to my Savior, so that I could somehow find the strength to overcome my own weaknesses, particularly my impatience with my young children.

So, I sat with my children and tried my hardest to focus on Jesus Christ and all that He means to me. During the Sacrament prayer, I listened intently and as the words were uttered, "that they always do remember Him, that they may have His Spirit to be with them", I was somehow filled with the Spirit. On that day, I succeeded at finding God's realm. Reflecting back, I realize that nothing feels better than feeling the Spirit of the Lord. Nothing. In God's realm, everything is peaceful, everything is right, and everything is love.

I prayed a fervent prayer that I would always remember Him, and that I could even do so during the week to come, especially when I was the least patient. I thought of my daily challenges and how sometimes it seemed as if a spilled glass of milk could just make me want to run away from home. Oh yes, my challenges were constant; there was the absence of my law student husband, the money that was always stretched to the limit, the never-ending needs of the children, the piles upon piles of laundry, and the mess made by a child and cleaned by their mom, only to be followed by another one which always seemed more extensive. How could I always remember Him?

With the presence of the Spirit, the physical messes somehow turned into the spiritual messes. In this minuscule moment, I felt that Christ was mending my spiritually broken heart. He was fixing the messes that I had in my heart. The Spirit whispered that it wasn't about my children and their messes, it was about me and my mess. I wasn't taking the time to realize who these children really were: they were God's daughters and I was the mother privileged enough to clean up after them for a time. The wisdom was imparted: when I learned to be a mother with a cheerful heart, I would find the patience and the quiet that I desperately needed in my life. If I would mother with God's wisdom I could be blessed with the Spirit always.

I prayed. What was God's wisdom that I needed? I sat and I listened to the still small voice. The little noises from around me started gaining a volume in my ears. But instead of being annoyed by the noise I was being blessed with some reminders. Each child's cry echoing from chapel was suddenly not annoying at all. Jesus Christ became even more sacred to me and loved by me as I remembered that he loved each of these children. God's wisdom was that He loved them just as He loved me.

And then when the moment was almost over, I was blessed with a very special last reminder. I heard something that I had never noticed before. It was the sound of sacrament cups being dropped into the trays. Every plunk seemed to get louder and louder, and every other noise from the room became more and more faint. I closed my eyes to listen more intently. Those plunks seemed to be so frequent. It was as if I could hear them resonating from around the world, and throughout time. I could not contain the emotion, the tears began to flow. Jesus Christ suffered the infinite atonement for all of these people. And, I was just one of the fortunate. He died for me so that I could be forgiven as I participated in the sacrament for my impatience and whatever else I wanted to change in my life. I was a mother who wanted to be better. And, Jesus Christ would bless me with my pure desire. Jesus Christ loved us all, children and adults, and somehow that fact would give me the patience I needed.