Since the day I was born, lying down without much control over my mind and at roughly the same size I am now, I have felt something much larger in my heart pulling me upward. It was an unmistakable yearning, an almost compelling force not my own pushing me to do, to be, and to reach the place...wherever that is, where my heart could be satisfied. I have always felt like I had a mission. And I think we have all felt and seen that-a tiny glimpse of our potential or destiny...not knowing where it came from or where exactly it was telling us to go.
So I did my best to figure out my individual purpose for being and to find the sweetness I longed for. A few times I thought I had. Basketball was my first love, and what I supposed I had been sent here for. I knew it...my best friend, whose booming voice spoke solace and reason to the quiet soul of someone not knowing what he was shooting for. People have given me tastes of who I can be. Trivial pursuits have offered confidence and created outlets to occupy my time here. But the thirst remained. Today, writing fills holes I myself have created somewhere along the line as I have tried and failed and tried again to dig for this internal treasure. But none of these things are my mission. Though they bring pure enjoyment and add character and dimensions to my life, all they have done is further motivate me to uncover this unknown, but existing identity. Who am I and what am I doing here?
It doesn't matter how hard you look if you "considerest not the beam that is in thine own eye." You see, I may have always felt that desire, but not knowing what it was for, I immediately resorted to attempts at mastering what was in front of me...the physical world. And although many of my attempts were "successful" and brought some substance to my emotional world, there was nothing in my world that could span the heavens...without combining my mission with someone else's. President Henry B. Eyring said "you have felt a tug, maybe many tugs, to be someone better. And what set those yearnings apart from all your daydreams is that they were not about being richer, or smarter, or more attractive, but about being better. That urge to rise above yourself is a recognition of your need for the Atonement to work in your life." President David O. McKay on the same matter, "Man is a spiritual being, a soul, and at some period of his life everyone is possessed with an irresistable desier to know his relationship to the Infinite...to master the body and all things physical and live in a higher and more beautiful world." I testify that as you learn of the Infinite, this yearning grows.
Jesus Christ of Nazareth knew His mission from the outset of his life, covered with grandeur and compassion. Graciously, His mission was not His own...as is the will of the Father, it was for me. It was for you. "For the Son of man is come to save that which was lost."(Matthew 18:11) Our mission, and the eternal joy that it produces when it's understood and lived, is found in Him. "Come unto me all ye ends of the earth, buy milk and honey, without money and without price."(2 Nephi 26:25) In my most earnest of endeavors, I still make mistakes and fall short of my dreams. But there is one who did precisely what He came to do, who fulfilled His mission and has commanded us to fulfill ours by coming and being perfected in Him. He not only offers His perfection, but takes upon Him our imperfections. "He is despised and rejected of men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief; and we hid as it were our faces from him; he was despised, and we esteemed him not. Surely he has borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows; yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted. But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities; the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed."(Mosiah 14:3-5) It's too good to be true. But it is. He lives. And, by virtue of Him, so too can we.
There was a man in a desert wandering, empty on all sides. Endless miles he had walked. What he sought he did not know, but he continued and as a friend walked alongside him he journeyed and searched for this elusive something. This friend was the man's only comfort and strength through the arduous sojourn. Together, they had survived the heat of summer days and the penetrating burn of this mental abyss. But still he wandered. Eventually, worn out and at the brink of despair, the man turned to the friend, there as ever, and pleaded for help. "It's not here, whatever it is. Do you have any idea how I can find it or where? What is it I need?" The friend smiled. "This long time you have walked with me, searching for what you think you need, not realizing it has been me, here all along, who has kept you going, me who has brought you joy in this dreary place, and me who will always be. My friend, you ask me what you need. Look up. I Am."
Joseph Smith's mission in the grove was to know the truth. The truth came to him. The Book of Mormon's mission is to bring all men unto Christ. When read and considered, it does just that. Jesus Christ's mission is for us to be happy as we walk with Him, far above sin's low valley. My mission is to proclaim His. My mission is to introduce others to my Savior, to my friend in the desert. And as my mission is swallowed up in His perfect love, He will lead me to where I can't go by myself. There my heart can leave the wilted desert of affliction and join His as I truly take upon His name and sing praises to it. Hallelujah, the Rose of Sharon. He rose.
Behold Him
The manger laid in straw for Him, whose throne sits on the earth
can't hold Him. Behold Him...
Whose virgin mother had a child, whose Father held Him first.
The Savior of us all from sin who died for cause of birth.
Please hold Him. Behold Him...
Who knew the worth of souls is great,
for whom the angels sang...
The babe in swaddling clothes was crowned with thorns in purple robes.
Behold, the Lamb of God...who held the bitter cup,
for whom the angel came...
Sin's Rainbow and the Son...Thy will, He drank it up.
The Master of the coulds came down... His face in oiled dust.
Behold Him, but how? "He is not here, for He is risen."
The temple filled with men and Him, a boy of only twelve.
They heard Him. Behold Him...
whose lips spoke ill of none who passed, whose hands said "sick, be well."
The men who killed He said forgive, and finished ageless hell.
Nails hold Him. Behold Him...
The garden empty but for Him...a cup He hadn't poured...
He held it. Behold Him...
Who, hated by the world He made, who loved the very same.
His heart was full, He drank our sin, and bled from ever pore.
The tomb can't hold Him. Behold Him...
Behold, the Lamb of God...who held the bitter cup,
for whom the angel came.
Sin's Rainbow and the Son...Thy will, He drank it up.
The Master of the clouds came down... His face in oiled dust.
Behold Him, but how? "He is not here, for He is risen."
