From the Mission Field
Choosing Faith While Still in Darkness Was My Only Way Out
For months on my mission, depression made it hard for me to feel God’s presence. Then a glimmer of light led me to a prayer I never thought I’d say.
The color gray was all I saw when I woke up. I’d been serving the Lord for 18 months in the United Kingdom, and all I felt—instead of the joy I was promised—was a gnawing emptiness.
I forced myself out of bed, knelt on the ground, and called out to the Lord, begging for relief from the pit of despair I found myself in. But for me, the depression I felt blocked spiritual impressions almost as well as the double-glazed windows blocked the snow from getting in the room.
After completing our morning studies, my companion and I gathered at the door to go out into the cold, sometimes hostile environment of the British city we were serving in.
“Pray,” my companion encouraged me firmly.
“I don’t want to,” I whispered back.
“Pray,” he said again. The determined look in his eye was stronger than the darkness I felt inside, so I bowed my head and stuttered out the words.
With my companion satisfied, we headed out. He was full of the fire of God, and I was tired, forcing one leg in front of the other.
This pattern went on for weeks, until a message from heaven finally broke through the darkness I was feeling and sparked a light that led me to safety.
Holding On to a Spark of Light
The message that ran through my mind was a simple one: “What is the meaning of faith?”
In response, I immediately thought of words from my mission president. They were as clear in my mind as the day he’d said them to me: “Elder Human, faith isn’t walking in the light, but walking to the edge of it and leaping, hoping that Jesus will catch you.”
Prompted by that thought, I fell to my knees and prayed in a way I never had before. Humbly, I told Heavenly Father that I couldn’t hear Him, but that I knew He was still there. I promised that I would take the leap of faith by continuing to work hard on my mission, even in the darkness. I expressed my confidence that I would feel the light of His love again one day.
Then, true to my word, I stood up to go to work. A spark of light from the Lord was beginning to smolder in my chest, like a small candle against the turbulent gray around me—not much light, but enough to take the first few steps of faith (see Alma 32:35).
That day was the same as any other. My companion and I faced more rejection than acceptance in our proselyting, at a ratio that felt like a million to one. But there was one striking difference: instead of sinking further into despair with each rejection, I whispered to myself, “I choose to have faith.”
Then I would step forward to teach another person.
Stepping into Faith
“I choose to have faith” became my mantra, my motto, my lifeline in the storm. I began to experience what Elder Neil L. Andersen of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles once described: “Faith emits a spiritual light, and that light is discernible. Faith in Jesus Christ is a gift from heaven that comes as we choose to believe and as we seek it and hold on to it.”1
Slowly, one glimmer at a time, the light returned, the shadows lifted, the clouds parted, and I saw the dawn.
When I’m tempted to give in to despair, I whisper those words and carry on. I’m not always filled with miraculous strength—I still feel tired at times—but my resolve is fortified, and I find myself able to push forward. And the smallest particle of faith was all it took to start (see Alma 32:27).
Now I can testify that these words from Elder Andersen are true: “Although your beginning fire of faith may be small, righteous choices bring greater confidence in God, and your faith grows. The difficulties of mortality blow against you, and evil forces lurk in the darkness, hoping to extinguish your faith. But as you continue to make good choices, trust in God, and follow His Son, the Lord sends increased light and knowledge, and your faith becomes settled and unwavering.”2
I know that the Lord is aware of the struggles that His missionaries—and each of us—face. As we keep moving forward, our deepest darkness can disperse, and His light will flow in even brighter than before (see Alma 19:6).