Lifted: Falling Into Grace (Part 3)

 The last time I wrote about my experiences within the Church, I'd recently recommitted myself to remaining an active member. I knew that leaving was not the right decision, but honestly, I didn't really know why, and I still struggled with my testimony. I've re-read that blog series constantly over the past two years anytime I need to remind myself why I'm still here, still trying, still constantly failing to live the gospel as perfectly as I did as a 17-year-old. 

And I have wondered, over and over and over again, in grief and at times in anger, why God had allowed me to have a faith crisis. I had been so strong, and so fervent in my testimony of the church, and I could have done great things for Him. I could have brought so many people into the fold of God if only I had been given the gift of faith like my mom. What was I possibly supposed to learn from this experience?

For this girls camp, I memorized the entire "Living Christ" document and recited it for the whole stake of girls.

I invited a non-member friend to a temple open house. Missionary work: check

WHY had God allowed me to fall from His grace?

The answer finally came, after five long silent years, on a simple Monday afternoon as I folded laundry in my bedroom. I was watching one of the first episodes of The Chosen. In this scene, Jesus came to Shabbat dinner, and a man turned to Him and asked who He was. And simply, quietly, the Savior answered, "I'm Jesus." 

I'm Jesus. 

I'm Jesus. 

In that moment, the Spirit filled my soul for what felt like the first time in years. I realized that Jesus was real, that He had actually lived on the earth, and that "believing in Jesus" didn't mean merely believing that He once existed, but believing that He was the Messiah, that He had come to save me. Because I couldn't save myself. 

It didn't matter how perfect I tried to be. I would never be enough on my own. I would never earn His love. That was something He freely gave to me, something He had always freely given, and I had proudly turned Him away, telling Him there were others more in need of it than I. But in that moment I knew that He was real and that I desperately, desperately needed Him. 

God gave me the answer I'd been searching for with those simple words, I'm Jesus. I suddenly understood that I could not have been allowed to remain as I was, because all I would have done was bring people to the Church, and maybe they would have found Jesus there, but maybe not. My faith had to be torn apart, piece by piece, until there was absolutely nothing left, so that it could be rebuilt on the chief cornerstone, and that cornerstone is Jesus Christ. 

I saw that the disintegration of my "rock solid" testimony had not been a fall from grace, but rather a fall into grace. Jesus's grace. 

Jesus, who had descended below all things, was waiting for me in the deepest recesses of my heart, waiting for me to need Him so He could lift me up. 

***

I think Jesus is the best-kept secret in the Church, and He shouldn't be a secret. We should talk of Christ, preach of Christ, rejoice in Christ, and prophesy of Christ, and write according to our prophecies, that our children may know to what source they may look for a remission of their sins. 

Jesus is the source. 

This focus on Jesus has changed a lot of things about the way I approach my worship in the Church. Jesus doesn't care about perfection; He cares about repentance. He cares more about the state of our hearts than the number of checks on our gospel to-do lists. 

I still don't read my scriptures daily, but I've read them more in the last few months than I have in the last few years. Now I do it, not because I feel like I have to in order to secure my seat in the Celestial Kingdom, but because I want to feel as close to Jesus as I did that moment in my bedroom all those months ago. 

I've become more aware of how judgmental I've been, always comparing others' attempts at living the gospel to my own. I'm making conscious attempts to see myself and other people as Jesus sees them, and of course I'm not perfect at it, but Jesus allows for imperfection. 

There is plenty of imperfection in our Church, but the good news is that we are led by Jesus, and He is perfect. His prophet and apostles are close to Him, and they speak for Him. I think we can do better to listen to their messages with our hearts, not only our hands ready to jot down more gospel to-dos. We can Hear Him. We can Let God Prevail. As Elder Packer said, "The study of the... gospel [the good news of Jesus Christ] will change behavior quicker than a study of behavior will change behavior." In other words, coming to Jesus will perfect us. Making lists of things to improve on our own will not. 

We want to be perfect disciples of course. That's a good thing. But perfection is a gradual process, and it will not come by trying harder, doing more, or berating ourselves for falling short. Perfection will come as we turn to Jesus. Let Him prevail. Hear His voice. Feel His love. Let Him change our hearts. 

When we try to perfect ourselves, the bar we are clinging to is set impossibly high. Letting go of it, embracing imperfections, recognizing our perpetual need for mercy, is difficult. But when you do you'll find yourself falling, not from Jesus's grace, but into it. 

He is already waiting to catch you, to heal you, to love you, and to lift you. 

I think you should let Him.