Once upon a time, on a Sunday quite a few years ago, I was visiting my family instead of living near them, because I still lived in Taylorsville. My dad had told me many times that afternoon, “If you’re going home, you should leave now, because it’s going to snow.”
I was having far too much fun with my family to do that. And besides, looking outside, the weather was beautiful! The skies were clear. So I thought to myself, “Oh dad, you worry too much!” And it was two hours later before I finally left.
By this time the sun was nearly gone. The world was nestling comfortably in darkness and the skies remained clear of storms… until I met the most dangerous part of the canyon on Highway 89 and hit a wall of snow.
There was so much snow that I literally couldn’t see anything in front me. I pulled over, turning on my hazard lights as I tried to build up my courage to keep going, telling myself that as long as I could see the yellow lines in the road, I could make it through okay.
Well, those yellow lines didn’t last very long. They disappeared under inches of snow, and after hitting the rumble strips a couple of times, I realized that I might as well be driving with my eyes closed, because they were useless to me. When I passed a sign that signaled a sharp turn ahead, I pulled back over with my hazard lights on and cried. I couldn’t see the sharp turn to make it! How could I possibly keep going?
I began to pray, thinking of my kids in the back seat and how desperately we needed to make it safely through the canyon in this blizzard. I needed something, anything, to help me get us through.
I soon looked up and saw flashing red and blue lights in my rearview mirror. I never imagined, ever, in my life—EVER—that I could be so happy to see those lights in my rearview mirror.
The officer got out of his car and came up to my window. He asked me, “Is everything alright? Or are you just sick of driving in this?”
Barely able to speak because I was crying so hard, I gestured to the snow and managed to squeak out, “I can’t see!”
“Alright, alright,” he told me. “You’re almost Spanish Fork. Just follow me, I’ll guide you out.”
I don’t remember what I said because I was a blubbering mess, but I sure hope I told him “Thank you.” He went on ahead of me. I followed his tail lights and he led me safely through the blizzard and out of the canyon.
I think of this experience pretty regularly nowadays. It’ll just creep up into my head, whispering, “Remember, remember.”
I don’t know about you, but for me, there are these moments in life where it feels like I’m driving through a storm. I try to remain optimistic, telling myself, “As long as I can see the lines in the road, I’ll be okay.” As long as I can make it through this month, this week, this day, this hour…
But then the lines disappear.
It happens sometimes, you know? Where a moment feels so dark, your heart so heavy and so broken, that you can’t see how you’re going to make it through another second, let alone an hour or day or week.
But we need not be alone in these times.
There is One who knows exactly what you are going through, because He has walked the very path you are taking now. Our Savior, Jesus Christ, has felt that darkness. He has carried your pain. As Alma says in Alma 7:11-12:
“And he shall go forth, suffering pains and afflictions and temptations of every kind…And he will take upon him death, that he may loose the bands of death which bind his people; and he will take upon him their infirmities, that his bowels may be filled with mercy…that he may know according to the flesh how to succor [to help and bring relief to] his people according to their infirmities.”
What He suffered and felt for you caused Him, on the eve of His Atonement, to turn to His disciples and say, “My soul is exceeding sorrowful, even unto death.” (Matthew 26:38) And this was only the beginning.
You have Someone in your corner. Someone who hears the weeping of the broken heart. Our Savior is Someone who literally knows your sorrows, your fears, your crushing heartbreak. Someone who loves you perfectly. Someone who wasn’t only willing to die for you, but actually did. He is Someone you can turn to. Someone willing to brave the most treacherous blizzard in order to bring you light and guide you through it. He is The Good Samaritan, who, when He sees us reaching out to Him, broken and lost by the wayside, has compassion on us and rushes to our rescue. He isn’t looking for excuses not to help us—not ever. You are never too far gone, too broken, nor can you ever cry out to Him for help too many times—I promise, otherwise I’d be in big trouble.
His love for us is always there, and He will rush to our rescue. Always, always.
I know this is true. I have been the broken person on the road to Jericho, and have experienced the Savior’s perfect love, compassion, understanding and healing light. I have had to put in the work, trusting in His light and following Him through the storm, and the answers to my prayers haven’t always been what I wanted to hear, or happened when I wanted them to happen, but they have always been exactly what I needed. I know He’s there, and you are not lost to Him. Not ever. And if you reach out to Him will all of your heart, He will rush to your rescue.