Sunday, March 12, 2006

Death & Healing

About a week and a half ago, a young man in my ward died of a drug overdose. He was 23, and had apparently been struggling with drugs for some time, although he'd been clean for the last 6 months or so. Before Wednesday.

I attended his funeral this past Tuesday morning--the bishop of my ward asked me to conduct the music, since I do that for church on Sundays--and, by the time the funeral was over, I was really grateful for the chance I had to listen in on what this young man's siblings & dad had to say about him, about his struggle, and about what the future holds for him.

Despite the difficult & painful circumstances surrounding his death, (surrounding any death, I suppose), I don't think I have ever heard more heartfelt & poignant testimony of the healing power of the atonement. The testimony of the young man's father was especially strong--he spoke for some time about the overall plan of salvation, addressing his grandchildren in the audience in simple yet powerful words. He expressed the knowledge that his son is now safe, free from the trials & temptations that he struggled with during his life.

I was profoundly moved, and changed, just a little bit by attending that funeral. And, even now, though my regular life has since intruded & erased all but a portion of the spirit of the meeting, still that portion remains, and I find that I myself can put just a little bit more trust in my Savior, and in the all-encompassing power of the atonement.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

This is unrelated, but I just wanted to let you know that I use your blog as my reward. I don't have much time to spend online (hence not many comments), and most of it's spent keeping track of finances or doing something similarly unpleasaant. I've formed the habit of going and reading your blog afterwards to make up for whatever blah experience I've just had. Please keep it coming!

Lizardbreath McGee said...

Cathy, I'm so thrilled to hear that! I think I've just come a step closer to becoming a well-beloved author whose books the parents of bibliophiles will insist their children leave alone until all their chores are done. (Hah! Chart THAT sentence, why doncha!)

Seriously. Thanks for the compliment. It has MADE MY DAY. :^)