An Easter Testimony

Confession time: I haven’t blogged in some time. But not because time, social or work conflicts or ‘life got in the way’. Because I got in the way. Me. Every January through March I struggle. I struggle because it is the anniversary of some traumas in my life. One in January that I will shed light on another day, another post. And the other mentioned previously. I am hindered by PTSD. Along with that, comes panic attacks, crippling depression, mood swings, you name it. And I try to do it alone. Every. Single. Time. I have improved over the years at seeking help and support from those close to me. I feel that even acknowledging the fact that I have these obstacles is a win. It allows for people to check up on me. But here is something I have noticed this year that I haven’t before. I come out of my funk right around Easter time. Right when the weather starts to get consistently warm, blossoms on trees, flowers in the ground, and it is quite refreshing. This year I had some thoughts that I wanted to share with you. Some ‘ah-ha’ moments if you will. I don’t think this was coincidence that I have these hurdles leading up to the celebration of a Resurrected Savior.

I would like to take the opportunity to bear testimony and express my gratitude for my Savior. He lives. He loves you. I am grateful for the knowledge the restored gospel provides. It not only testifies of Christ, his Atonement and his Resurrection, but expounds on those same truths. Yes, Christ suffered for our sins, he made it possible for us to be forgiven through repentance of those sins, but he also took upon himself all our infirmities of mortal life. For me, that means all the pain I have endured, both physical and emotional, the sadness, heartache, PTSD, depression, and anxiety.  He felt the terror that nightmares bring late at night followed by paranoia that keeps me awake. He endured all this in addition to feeling the heart wrenching guilt and sorrow that sin has brought into my life. All of this, for me. It wasn’t some blanket expression of each of those mentioned feelings. He didn’t work his way down an emotional checklist: “I am now going to feel what sadness feels like”. This approach wouldn’t work because we all experience these things differently. Individually. That means he felt my sadness. My grief. My pain. My sin.

Why? Because I knew him. I knew him before I came to this earth. We probably spent time walking together, discussing serious topics like life, love, and the plan of happiness, with the occasional goofing off, but we knew each other, intimately. I admired my older brother and we loved each other dearly. So, this year, right before Easter, I have spent time reflecting on my Savior and pondering the event in Gethsemane.  My Savior, experiencing what I had been struggling with, enduring then, exactly what I was feeling now. He probably thought about me. When it came to be my turn for him to undergo what I have. I wonder if he received strength from remembering me specifically and telling himself “I’m doing this for Sammi.” “This is what Sammi is going to go through.” “I am doing this for Sammi.” And it’s not just me. He did that for all of us. No wonder he started to bleed from every pore, repeating the process for every single person that has ever existed. And not even for glory for himself.

He did it because he wants to see me again. It is that important to him that I return to live with him. Because he probably misses me. And it probably broke his heart when I didn’t care to be a member of his fold, choices that I made driving me farther from him. It probably hurt him to complete his Atonement only for me to push it aside, not caring, or accepting his gift. But the joy, the joy he feels at my return is greater than any previous agony.

As if that wasn’t enough, he was then taken, beaten, spit on, humiliated publicly, and at no consequence of wrongdoing. Then, they crucified him. While on the cross is when he felt the very last thing, poignant and crucial: my Savior, who had literally walked with God present his entire life, at the very end, hanging on the cross, felt his Father in Heaven leave him. That is when a beaten and battered Savior cried “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?”.

Why did the Father leave His Only Begotten? Because it was imperative that Christ experience everything that I would experience. I have felt alone. Whether it be by my own choices, or am in the dark, foreboding clutches of depression, I know what it feels like to be far removed from God’s presence. To me, this fact is the most heartbreaking of all. That Christ, a perfect and worthy son, felt utterly and hopelessly alone.

And then he died. And three days later he was resurrected, triumphant. He went to battle against sin, against adversity, and every trial of a physical and spiritual nature, including death, and he WON. I would like to think that I watched these events before coming to Earth and rejoiced when, seeing after everything had been completed, he rose victorious. I knew that from that point forward that evil couldn’t win unless I let it. I won’t let Satan win. Not anymore. Because I have Christ on my side. Because He was successful, so I will be. Over sin, over pain, over all mortal strife. And that’s what I discovered this Easter. Which is the most significant thing that could have ever happened, and it didn’t even occur during my lifetime. I love Him. With all my heart. And am eternally grateful. Even if that is the only thing I ever know, at the end of the day, that’s enough.  

Thanks for stopping by.

Know you are loved.