Easter 2015: Going Deep!

 

Going Deep!

My four-year-old granddaughter loves the water and when she is in the bathtub, she will say to me, “Mama, I’m going deep.” She grabs a big breath and dives in underwater as deep as the porcelain tub will let her. I, on the other hand, don’t like to put my head in the water. One week of swimming lessons when I was a child at the Burley municipal pool was not enough---I never made it across the deep end of the pool. But this Easter, I felt like my depth of understanding and love for my Savior became significantly greater.

In first grade, my Easter seemed to be about large bunnies.

On the Saturday night before Palm Sunday, I met with two of my daughters for cheese and chocolate fondue while we watched the Relief Society general meeting that precedes General Conference. Because our eldest was singing in her congregation the next day (in Mormon land we call that a ward), Glen and I stayed in her guest bedroom downstairs to attend church with her family the next morning.

About 11 p.m. I felt rather than saw someone looking at me. In the pitch black, our little granddaughter had slipped downstairs and stood at my bedside, silent, waiting for me to know she was there. I lifted her up, and she snuggled down between us. Around 6 a.m. she needed a drink, and in an effort to let her parents sleep longer, we showed her some Bible videos on Glen’s Iphone. I was surprised how she wanted to see the ones of the Savior over and over again.

On Palm Sunday, Christ entered Jerusalem on the back of a young donkey as prophesied and the jubilant crowd lined the path to the temple with palm leaves to carpet the way for the coming of the king.  On the anniversary of that day, our daughter sang her testimony of that king: “I stand all amazed at the love Jesus offers me; confused by the grace that so fully he proffers me.”

 

Due to eight years of fighting debilitating pain, I had not heard her sing for a long time. But that Palm Sunday she taught me about going deep as she sang, “I marvel that he would descend from a throne divine; to rescue a soul so rebellious and proud as mine.”  Christ descends---he comes down ---to rescue my proud soul.

When I am in the ocean, I know real fear because I know my swimming skills are inadequate to save myself or anyone else, so I am afraid of deep water. I can’t imagine the depth of Christ’s suffering to pay for the sins and pain of all humankind. But I’ve watched my daughter suffer and felt that pain. Knowing Christ knows her pain, helps me to go on. And that Sunday, I felt deep joy hearing her sing her testimony.

Her voice was beautiful and controlled, matched perfectly to the arrangement, and I felt an accompanying spirit crescendo with the chorus. In fact, the spirit became a welling of light and beauty that stayed with me throughout the day. Seeing her stand and sing after fighting through so much pain was a powerful reminder of Christ’s suffering for me: “I think of his hands pierced and bleeding to pay the debt, such mercy such love, such devotion, can I forget?

Recently I heard a friend say that she shied away from commitments. But I wonder: isn’t it through commitments, especially covenants, where true joy comes in? Doesn’t a real commitment to becoming a disciple of Christ involve the decision and desire to go deep?

That depth of spirit continued as I attended an Easter concert that night where the missionaries in our area taught of the Savior through music. To close the program, one elder from South Africa sang, “I know that Redeemer Lives.” When I was 17 years old, I sang that song as part of a regular closing hymn as a brand new college student, living away from home for the first time. And the spirit welled up inside of me, and I knew truth. My testimony of Christ and His gospel was new and untested, but I wanted to be a committed member at that point. I wanted to believe. Hearing this dedicated missionary---a young man who had paid for his  mission by singing at weddings---share this hymn reminded me of one of my first real stirrings of testimony. The spirit in that chapel permeated the room and let me feel deeply that testimony that started so many years ago with that hymn. Perhaps when we have sacrificed or suffered, we can really sing a testimony of the Savior.

To continue this marvelous Eastertime, we boarded a plane for Mesa, Arizona to see Daughter #2 and the Mesa Easter Pageant. Actually, we missed three standby flights before I was able to catch the last seat on a plane, and Glen would try three more flights before joining us in Mesa. While we waited for Glen, ShaLae and I went to the Botanical Gardens in Arizona. Due to the wet year Arizona had experienced, the cacti were flowering in fuschia and deep oranges. And for the first time, I saw purple prickly pear.

 
 


The magnificent Mesa Temple grounds feature deep reflection ponds, palm trees, and a cactus garden. I had wanted to see the Mesa Easter pageant for many years.

 

Each night for two weeks, over 10,000 people come to see the life of the Savior re-told. ShaLae had been volunteering at the pageant, so she knew to get us there three hours early for a good seat.

At the end of the pageant, the actor that portrays Christ rises above the angels in triumphant resurrection. In birth and in the Garden of Gethsemane He descends below all; in death He is raised on the cross and His resurrection signifies that all will be resurrected.

 

This Easter, perhaps my most memorable Easter, was feeling the depth and height of Christ's commitment to us. My little four-year-old granddaughter understands this feeling. Recently when walking in the hall of her meetinghouse, she saw a picture of the Savior. "I miss him," she said to her mother. Yes, I know that my Redeemer lives!