Ya Feel Me?

     I went on a walk with a friend of mine a week or so ago, and we got talking about what had been taught in our sunday school lesson that week.  It was about spiritual experiences, and how we should write them down, and if appropriate then share them with others.  I was telling her about a cool experience I had recently had, and now I'm gonna sit here and write it down so I don't forget it.

    Growing up in the LDS church I was taught about the atonement.  I knew that Jesus had died for me and for my sins.  I knew that he loved me. I knew that I am a child of God and that Jesus as the Son of God, is my brother.  I remember learning that Jesus was my brother when I was very young, and that made me think of my own brothers. My oldest brother Adam was my hero!  I KNEW he loved me.  That was the closest thing I could relate my Savior's love to.  I remember thinking about Jesus dying for my sake and trying to understand it all.  I compared him to my hero, Adam, (this still makes me cry every time I think about it) and I remember wondering, "Would Adam die for me to save me?" ..... Yes.  Yes, my big brother Adam loved me that much, I was sure of it.  At that young age, with very little understanding of the fullness of the gospel, that was what it came down to.  Jesus must love me as much as Adam does.  That was where I left it.

    I know that he paid for my sins in the Garden of Gethsemane, but I have never really "felt" it.  I have repented for my mistakes in the past, and I truly feel like I've been forgiven for the things I've repented of.  I get that.  When there have been lessons about the atonement, or testimonies born about the Savior's sacrifice I have seen others get emotional, but I haven't really 'felt it'. And I know many people have a very strong testimony of the atonement.  But, that has honestly never been a strong point of my testimony.  

    A couple of weeks ago my mom called me up and invited my family to go to the BYU art exhibit, The Sacred Gifts.  A couple of my kids had already been there with their youth groups, but I had yet to see it.  Now, if you know me, I'm not a real Artsy-fartsy type person.  I can be kind of lazy,and sometimes going to things like this is hard for me to get excited about.  I had heard of Carl Bloch, but I hadn't heard of Heinrich Hofmann, or Frans Schwartz.  Nor do I think I really cared.  I was a little interested, but truly, I went because my mom invited us.  She does a good job of motivating me to provide my kids with a little culture here and there.

    We got dressed up almost to church level, and headed off to the museum.  There was a short little movie first that set the tone, and explained where the paintings had come from.  Then we got to go in and check out the religious pieces that had been loaned out for this exhibit.  I walked down the little hall and the very first painting 'Agony in the Garden' by Frans Schwartz just glowed!  I stared at it, and at Christ's eyes.  The pain and sadness and worry, and pleading.  It hit me straight in the heart.  I have plead like that.  On some level I have felt that emotion; worry, hope, love, sadness, helplessness, thankfulness... kind of all wrapped up in one.  I finally got it, I understood.  I was standing there captivated and crying, humbled and grateful, in awe of his love for me.  It was that love that Adam has for me, but it was so much more, and it wasn't just for me.  

           

     I noticed the people around me with their little informative iPads, learning about the artistic side of it.  I didn't feel like they were seeing it like I was.  I was a little embarrassed for myself to just start crying at the first painting amidst a group of people.  And I was concerned that the rest of the paintings were going to blow me away, so I hardened up again and moved on.  I looked at the rest of the paintings but couldn't get that first one out of my head, so when I had made the rounds I went back.  I read the scripture that went along with it:
Luke 22:42-43

 42 Saying, Father, if thou be willing, remove this cup from me: nevertheless not my will, but thine, be done.

 43 And there appeared an angel unto him from heaven, strengthening him.

    It hit me again. When we teach that he has suffered all things, I used to think of things he hadn't suffered, like having a baby, etc.  And I would get very literal.  He probably hasn't had a son with leukemia, or experienced all of the exact struggles that I have.  But that look on his face tells me that he has prayed for God's children even more earnestly than I am capable of.  His eyes tell me that he has felt that tangled up emotion.  He understands the joy and excitement of having a baby, and the worry for their welfare.  He understands the overwhelming feeling of wanting it all to just be ok again, wanting there to be another way.  He understands being so overwhelmed that he needs strength from angels.
    I stood there with 2 of my boys and tried to explain it without crying too much.  I couldn't justly express it.  I asked Rick to make a "donation" so I could get a copy of the painting in my own home so I wouldn't forget.
    A couple of days later some things happened in our world that were hard and very frustrating.  Somethings felt like people were actively trying to be dishonest and manipulative, others were very sad and just hard to know how to handle best.  While working through one of the problems with another family, all I could think of was His eyes.  How much He loves us, how badly He wants us to accept His sacrifice.  I could feel it as I talked to them.
   I probably still don't get it all.... but I'm much closer to getting it than I was, because now I can feel it.
    I feel like a science project experiment.  Like I'm a big dam. And everything that has been happening is just more water thrown into the reservoir that I am supposed to hold back.  Frustrating things, and things that make you feel helpless, as well kind things, and love and support shown to us.  It all adds up to some type of emotion.  Emotion = water in the reservoir.   The water feels like it is getting so high sometimes.  Sometimes it seems very calm, and things are beautiful and that reservoir doesn't seem like a big deal.  There are still a lot of fun things you can do on a reservoir,  right?   But somedays it's as though the experiment is to see just how much water can be held back, and then to see what happens if a little pin hole is poked through me (the dam).  When I can feel myself getting a little choked up or emotional, this vision of a dam exploding open fills my mind.  The flood of fear and hope, frustration and gratitude,  confusion and understanding would cover everything in sight.  It scares me, so I patch up the holes as quickly as possible.
    I'm trying to find a way to share the good emotions.  To share the hope and the love.  And even though the unpleasant emotions are still there, maybe by sharing the good ones I will have a lighter load.  Then if I were to ever burst at the seams the flood would be much less devastating.
Ya feel me?