~by Heidi

It had been a bad day. I was dealing with disappointment over a hoped-for opportunity that had been withdrawn, and pain over a teacher’s unfair and damaging treatment of my young son. As I sat at my computer where so much of my life seems to happen these days, I was feeling lonely and discouraged. Just before I reached out to click the update button on my email, I bent over my keyboard and said a little prayer. “Oh, please, Heavenly Father, let some good news pop up for me!”

I clicked my mouse and emails flooded my inbox, many of them from friends I hadn’t heard from in a while. These emails brought a lot of love and comfort to my heart. One contained a link to a video and I was delighted to find that it was a clip entitled “Reflections of Christ,” featuring the work of an artist who uses live models to re-imagine scenes from well-known paintings. This particular clip featured scenes from the Book of Mormon, when Christ comes to the Americas after he was resurrected.

The first images started out a bit dark and gloomy, just like my mood, but as I watched, Christ appeared and the faces of the people curved with smiles, just my own was doing. As the people gathered, knelt, prayed, and worshiped, I could feel the pain and sorrow slip from my heart as the tears did from my face. When the images of Christ displaying his crucifixion wounds appeared, I was reminded that Christ died on the cross to bear the burden of sin for those who had wronged me as well as for my own sins. I was also reminded of this: there is no pain that is bigger than His love, bigger than His gospel, bigger than His truth. I watched eagerly as the beautiful images permeated my mind, the soaring music permeated my heart and the message permeated my soul. It was just what I needed to watch/see/hear/feel at that very moment.

As the clip came to a close, I was filled with gratitude for my Father in Heaven. What someone else might think is a mere want, He knows to be a true need. He answers prayers, even when murmured over the recumbent letters of the alphabet, the very same keys that brought this gift to me.

——-
For more Sharing Our Voices content, including First Person essays, see here.