From the Embers

Embers.

Have you ever watched a campfire burn down?  There is a beauty that comes with the end of the flames.  The embers, charred and rough on the outside, hide the fire that burns within.  You may get a peek at the flame as the fire settles and shifts.  What had been an inferno, painful to the logs, has died down, turning the once stout and strong wood to ash and embers. 

Embers.

They have the power to start a new fire if fanned correctly. 

Embers.

That is what I have found in my life. 

Last September, at the Relief Society session of General Conference, a talk was given by Linda S. Reeves, the second counselor in the Relief Society Presidency.  It was entitled, “Claim the Blessings of Your Covenants,” and you can read it (or watch) here.  This message resonated in my life.  I was going through a divorce after more than 11 years of marriage.  My life had changed drastically from the plan I had seen for myself.  There I sat, a single mom, struggling to make sense of where I had gone wrong. 

Sister Reeves talked of the old Tabernacle in Provo, Utah where fire had gutted the interior in 2010, but only 10 months later was announced by President Monson to be built into a new temple.  Because I cannot say it as well as she, here is an excerpt:

“Its loss was deemed a great tragedy by both the community and Church members. Many wondered, “Why did the Lord let this happen? Surely He could have prevented the fire or stopped its destruction.”

Ten months later, during the October 2011 general conference, there was an audible gasp when President Thomas S. Monson announced that the nearly destroyed tabernacle was to become a holy temple—a house of the Lord! Suddenly we could see what the Lord had always known! He didn’t cause the fire, but He allowed the fire to strip away the interior. He saw the tabernacle as a magnificent temple—a permanent home for making sacred, eternal covenants.

My dear sisters, the Lord allows us to be tried and tested, sometimes to our maximum capacity. We have seen the lives of loved ones—and maybe our own—figuratively burned to the ground and have wondered why a loving and caring Heavenly Father would allow such things to happen. But He does not leave us in the ashes; He stands with open arms, eagerly inviting us to come to Him. He is building our lives into magnificent temples where His Spirit can dwell eternally.

In Doctrine and Covenants 58:3-4, the Lord tells us:

“Ye cannot behold with your natural eyes, for the present time, the design of your God concerning those things which shall come hereafter, and the glory which shall follow after much tribulation.

“For after much tribulation come the blessings. Wherefore the day cometh that ye shall be crowned with much glory.”

Sisters, I testify that the Lord has a plan for each of our lives. Nothing that happens is a shock or a surprise to Him. He is all-knowing and all-loving. He is eager to help us, to comfort us, and to ease our pain as we rely on the power of the Atonement and honor our covenants. The trials and tribulation that we experience may be the very things that guide us to come unto Him and cling to our covenants so that we might return to His presence and receive all that the Father hath.”

As I sat in tears, attempting to not become a soggy, mascara-streaked mess, I knew that the Lord had plans for me.  This painful gutting of my life that had left me questioning what lay in store, was not a punishment, but an opportunity for growth.  I have potential!  I had watched as my life burned to the ground, but I could not see the design of our loving Heavenly Father for my life.  This I know: the Lord knows me and He has a plan for me.  I truly do feel closer to our loving God than I did before my life went up in flames.  For this, especially, I am thankful.

I still don’t know the plans in store for me.  But from those embers, glowing and smoldering from the gutting of my old life, my Heavenly Father will turn my tabernacle into a glorious temple.  I will fan those embers to burn away what is unneeded or unnecessary in my life.  I will by no means be perfect!  At least, not on my own I won’t.  It’s a process, and some days are better than others.  But, for me, I will work to look past the rough and charred outward appearance of the life I knew.  The glowing within the embers will be my focus; the beauty after the pain.