Sabbath Devotional :: Daughter, Be of Good Comfort

This is a complicated holiday for so many of us. I remember leaving a Mother’s Day Sacrament Meeting many years ago after one of my miscarriages and crying in the car in the parking lot, clutching the potted geranium. You are not alone. And I’m guessing most of us have sorrows and heartaches and inadequacies that a flower or chocolate today won’t fix. What we thought would be happily ever after is hard. And what was meant to be a day to honor women ends up idealizing unmet expectations and highlighting perceived inadequacies. And even if it is not hard for you personally, it is a valuable opportunity to practice compassion for those who do find it so.

I know some of you have lost your moms recently. Some of your moms are sick and dying. Some are in therapy to deal with mother issues, grieving a lacking relationship. Some struggle with women’s roles in the church. Your marriage might be hard, or nonexistent. Some of you want to be mothers and aren’t. Some of you are mothers and wish you weren’t! Some of you ache because your kids have left the faith, or left the family, or left this earth. Or maybe they just forgot it was Mother’s Day this morning.

I think so much of our trouble today, and with life, is expectation pain — the difference between the perceived ideal and our reality. And because we don’t live in the Garden of Eden, we experience pain and heartache and afflictions and less than perfect realities in this lone and dreary part of our wilderness. And that’s actually good. That’s why we’re here, in fact. Because then we need Jesus. And only through Jesus can we get to heaven, and that happily ever after.

I love how the New Testament describes how Jesus interacted with women. Jesus had women be his first witnesses, both to his birth and to his rebirth. In a time when women could not legally testify in court, Mary and Elisabeth and Anna testified of his birth to the world, and Mary Magdalene to his resurrection rebirth. He touched women who were considered unclean, visited with pariahs, and announced his Messianic role to an outcast woman at the well. The New Testament highlights how Jesus solved problems for women with sick and dead children, women with messed up bodies and lives and families and marriages.

However, Jesus’ followers faced mismatched expectations during his mortal ministry. Jesus was not born into a wealthy family. Jesus did not ride into Jerusalem on a conquering warhorse and lead the Jews to military victory. Jesus came to save — and save us he did, but not in the way anyone expected. Even when he tried to explain his coming death to his disciples, they were confused. Jesus rebuked Peter when he said, “No, Lord, this shall never happen to you!”

Sometimes, we need to be reminded that Jesus didn’t get a college degree and have a well-paying job, he didn’t grow up in a traditional family, his brothers and neighbors opposed him, and his close friend betrayed him. Jesus didn’t live to a healthy old age surrounded by descendants at a family reunion; he wasn’t the hometown hero of Nazareth. He didn’t travel to a Jerusalem luxury resort and have the latest designer toga, tech, and cars. He didn’t get the top CEO of Galilee award.

Jesus didn’t walk on the water until the fourth watch; he didn’t heal Lazarus until the fourth day. Jesus did not lead an army and he did not conquer oppressive political leaders. He submitted to them and died. Instead of coming in as the roaring lion of Judah, he was the slain Passover lamb. Not the warhorse, but the mother hen gathering chicks under wings. It was not the desired timing, not the desired outcome, not the expected rescue, not the kingdom they thought was coming.

In fact, Isaiah tells us: “He is despised and rejected of men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief.” So when we follow the plan of salvation, the pattern of Jesus, that doesn’t necessarily mean a picture perfect prosperous LDS family. We or the world create expectation pain for ourselves, but the pattern of Jesus means forgiveness, love, healing, obedience, sacrifice, devotion to God, meditation and scripture reading, and caring for those around us.

What do believers do with this story that didn’t turn out how they expected?

We live in the messy middle. We have left the perfection of Eden, and have not yet achieved the peace of heaven. Being a human is hard. This is the time when it’s not always working out, when we’re relying on God and praying for better outcomes. We give the Lord our loaves and fishes, waiting for the miracle; our stones, hoping for them to illuminate barges; our water, knowing that he can turn it into wine. We wait through the long winter, knowing spring and blossoms and sunshine come at last.

Jesus read in the synagogue: “The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me; because the Lord hath anointed me to preach good tidings unto the meek; he hath sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, . . . to comfort all that mourn . . . to give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness.” (Isaiah 61:1-3). The Hebrew word for beauty used here refers to a headdress, turban, or tiara. The temple points to our anointing and crowning as future and eternal heirs in the kingdom of God. And here is where expectation pain is replaced by expectation joy.

May you find that joy in Jesus, that hope in eternity, and comfort in the knowledge that you are not alone and He knows your sorrows personally and has overcome them. He repeatedly says, “Daughter, be of good comfort, thy faith hath made thee whole. Go in peace.”