Emily Belle Freeman



Promise of healing

D&C 132:42-- D&C 133:61

This is meant to be a season of celebration, of giving, of gathering together.

A season of happiness.

But when I open up the site to see the news there is not happiness there.

Nor celebration.

There is sadness.  Great, deep, soul gripping sadness.

I am reminded in a stark way how dark the world can be sometimes.

And yet,

within the words of deep sadness I read of the giving and the gathering together.

Christ is there.

"In all their afflictions he was afflicted.  And the angel of his presence saved them; and in his love, and in his pity, he redeemed them, and bore them, and carried them..."  (D&C 133:53)

There, in the midst of the story that I want to block from my view, goodness springs up.  Beauty in the midst of darkness.

Growing forth from the abyss.

Last night my girls gathered around the couch, "Have you heard, Mom?"  They asked.  "Don't tell me," I replied, "It's too sad for my heart to know."

"But, Mom, there is good."  My oldest daughter, Meg, said gently.

She spoke of a teacher protecting her little ones.

Of forgiveness being extended.

Of generous people gathering together to make it possible for healing to begin.

"And in the barren deserts there shall come forth pools of living water; and the parched ground shall no longer be a thirsty land..."  (D&C 133:29)

In the place made recently barren, in the parched place that comes when no more tears can fall, there springs forth pools of living water.

Filled with promise of healing.

"For since the beginning of the world have not men heard nor perceived by the ear, neither hath any eye seen, O God, besides thee, how great things thou hast prepared for him that waiteth for thee."  (D&C 133:45)

And so we wait.

Knowing that He will come again.

Bringing with Him those that were lost.

Healing what was made barren.

Soothing the parched places.

Here in North America, December brings with it a lesson unique to this area of the world.

In December--the first of our winter months--we experience our darkest and coldest days.

But we also celebrate Christmas.

Early each evening, when the sun sets quickly beyond the horizon and darkness settles in, the streets shine brightly.

Reminiscent of the star of Bethlehem, the lights of Christmas beam.

In the darkest hours they are the most spectacular and easiest to see.

The chase away the blackness and fear and remind us that in this month--a month of dark and cold--we celebrate the coming of the Light.

The Light of the World.

A world that can sometimes be dark and cold.

A world that sometimes sees the sun set too quickly.

And during this world's darkest hours, His light shines brilliantly--bringing hope and healing and promise to all.


Emily Freeman