Moments of Despair That Become Moments of Light
There is a pattern throughout the scriptures and our lives of God delivering His people, even when some are on the brink of despair. And we are witnesses of that pattern once again.
The author lives in Utah, USA.
I’ve clocked more hours than usual these last few weeks on my couch. I’ve been frequenting that spot because it’s where we watch movies. A lot of them these days. And I’ve noticed if it’s an especially good movie, most of the time I am sitting on the edge of that couch. Anticipating. Holding my breath. Wrapped up in the wondering or worrying. Some script writers really know how to tell a story.
As dramatic and unexpected as recent days have been, it seems like life has always been a big story unfolding—full of moments that keep us anticipating what will happen next and sitting on the edge of our seats. I can crack open my memories or the scriptures and find something similar in nearly every chapter.
An Ongoing Pattern
I have been thinking a lot about Moses’s story—the part where he gathered together with the Israelites on the edge of the Red Sea. Perhaps they were thinking and hoping that they would get a chance to rest easy for a minute, when suddenly Pharaoh’s chariots came thundering over the desert horizon. There was sand to their left and sand to their right, a mighty army approaching fast from behind, and a sea in front of them. They were surrounded with no way out.
It seems like things had just started to get better for the Israelites and then came this blow. And then another. And then another. And they found themselves in a place of panic and uncertainty—some of them wishing for their old lives. In that moment, on the edge of disaster, all eyes turned to the prophet.
And Moses—He turned heavenward.
And these are the words he heard and then said: “Fear ye not, stand still, and see the salvation of the Lord” (Exodus 14:13).
Don’t you love that? Moses turned their eyes away from the trouble and pointed them to heaven. God hushed their fears like no one else could and turned a moment of great alarm into a beautiful victory. When we tell that story, we tell it as one of deliverance and hope. We almost forget the Egyptians were ever pursuing them. The Israelites thought they were on the edge of disaster, but they were actually on the edge of a miracle.
I’m glad someone wrote that story down. The pattern it teaches has come in handy again and again for God’s people in similar moments of worry, doubt, and discouragement. A pattern of gathering together in fearful times. Of looking to the prophet for guidance. Of him pointing us to heaven. And of God turning our moments of fear into memories of faith.
This was also the pattern that young Joseph learned as he read the epistle of James, in a story we have become reacquainted with this season. A pattern to look to heaven—to “ask of God” in times of uncertainty (James 1:5). And so he did. He was having his own Red Sea moment as he described, “Thick darkness gathered around me, and it seemed to me … as if I were doomed ... seized ... ready to sink into despair” (Joseph Smith—History 1:15, 16) (Words and feelings many of us are familiar with, especially right now.) But then, “just at [that] moment of great alarm,” with confusion and anxiety from every side closing in, “just at [that] moment of great alarm, [Joseph] saw a pillar of light” (Joseph Smith—History 1:16).
And in that light two Personages appeared who knew his name, had answers to his specific questions, and hushed his particular fears.
“This is my Beloved Son. Hear Him!” (Joseph Smith—History 1:17).
Oh how sweet the words. Those words and Their presence were so spectacular that when we tell the story, we hardly remember that the darkness and the adversary were ever there. Joseph also thought he was on the edge of disaster, but he was actually on the edge of a miracle.
Despair Can Become Light
I have been thinking about how the timing of this past bicentennial general conference and the following Holy Week were such a godsend. My heart was yearning to stand still, listen for His voice, and let heaven hush my fears. General conference weekend came at a moment of great alarm. And just as God did for Joseph and the Israelites, pillars of light came. Pillars of hope. Pillars of deliverance and peace. Pillars of His presence.
My memory of general conference will not be of pandemics or economic upheaval, it will be of solemn gatherings, hosanna shouts, prophetic proclamations and blessings, and sacred pillars of light.
God always has a way of entering into the ordinary and often broken places and making them beautiful. He did so in a pocket of trees, on the sandy banks of the sea, and perhaps even in our homes over conference weekend—and let’s not ever forget the day He turned a tomb into a place of celebration. Conference was not only spectacular by itself, but it also happened to land on Palm Sunday—the triumphal beginning of Holy Week. The celebration of Easter, another story—the story, in fact—of defeat, despair, and death being overcome and turned into victory.
In the spring of 1820, Joseph left the grove and went back to find the world just as confused and anxious as before. In ancient times, the Israelites crossed through the Red Sea and landed in the wilderness. And today, we are leaving general conference weekend and going back to the world as it was—but we are going back differently.
We are going forth with eyes and ears that have been turned away from trouble and fixed on Him. With promises and evidences of a God who is still restoring His people, who is mightier than we thought, and who is better than we ever imagined. And with hearts that are filled and fortified and overflowing with hope. We may have thought we were on the edge of a disaster, but as we trust in God and follow His prophets, we may realize that we are actually on the edge of a miracle.