This last week it was Fast Sunday for our church congregation, (since General Conference is coming up, it was moved up one week earlier than the usual first Sunday of the month), and we were fasting for this family in our church congregation who’s 12-year-old is fighting to get movement back to her legs after a strange spinal stroke. She has been in the hospital fighting for over a month. The mom was at church and stood up to share her testimony and I just lost it. Oh my mother’s heart has been aching to strengthen her “feeble knees” but she’s been strengthening mine instead. I was so glad to have my mask to mop up my tears.
Then Lucy stood up there (anyone can stand and share their own personal convictions/feelings, what we call a testimony, and Lucy tends to do this as much as she can), so composed, speaking so clearly and beautifully. I’m going to try to write down what I remember because I want to keep it forever:
“Thank you for that beautiful testimony [she was speaking right after the mother of this sweet 12-year-old did]….I am so happy we get to celebrate Holy Week this week. My sister is serving as a missionary, and she was telling me her thoughts about Good Friday when she was going through a really hard time. She said that there are dark Fridays but it’s ok, because Sunday will always come. I think it’s important to remember that because we all have different trials. Some we can see and some we can’t, but Sunday will come for all of us.”
If I wasn’t emotional enough already by this point, now I was literally sobbing. I don’t know why I get to have this incredible girl as my daughter. I don’t know why sometimes it does seem like those “dark” Fridays are plentiful for her. But perhaps it is so that she will “feel” the darkness of other peoples’ Fridays, and she will somehow be able to lift them.
I join Lucy in gratitude that Sunday will come.
Even after that Good Friday all those years ago that we commemorate today, Sunday came.
The tomb was empty.
“He is not here: for he is risen.” (Matthew 28:6)
I love love love this quote:
“Each of us will have our own Fridays—those days when the universe itself seems shattered and the shards of our world lie littered about us in pieces. We all will experience those broken times when it seems we can never be put together again. We will all have our Fridays. But I testify to you in the name of the One who conquered death—Sunday will come. In the darkness of our sorrow, Sunday will come. No matter our desperation, no matter our grief, Sunday will come. In this life or the next, Sunday will come.” –Joseph B. Wirthlin
I talked about it last year and just feel like I really want to post the whole thing once again:
Yesterday that sweet 12-year-old got to come home from the hospital.
We stood along the street and welcomed her home.
Someone had tied pink bows on all the white fenceposts leading up to her house:
…and her yard was filled up to the brim with love, “welcome home Macie” yard sign, posters and hearts plastered all over the house, so much love.
We clapped and loved as she and her mom drove in and I was trying to hold back all the tears behind my sunglasses.
After her “Friday,” a “Sunday” has come. But I hope she’ll get a lot more “Sundays.”
“Sundays” with walking and jumping and running once again.
And I hope we will recognize our own “Sundays” as they come.
Speaking of Sundays, everyone is invited to join in to watch General Conference this weekend. That’s when all our church leaders are broadcast spilling out so much love and beauty and wisdom. I’m so excited to watch and celebrate Easter and let all that goodness wash over me.
Click HERE for more details and how to watch.