"We will all rise from the grave. And on that day my father will embrace my mother. On that day I will once again hold in my arms my beloved Elisa. Because of the life and eternal sacrifice of the Savior of the world, we will be reunited with those we have cherished."- Elder Wirthlin
She walked on the plane, with red eyes, and a wet face. She immediately asked for tissues, and I immediately wanted to hug her. Of course, I gave her the box. Before I knew what this perfect stranger was upset about, I wanted to tell her, "My dear sister, Sunday will come, I promise".
Have you ever read the talk Sunday will come, by Elder Joseph Wirthlin? This talk has taken me through some rough times.
You know the times.
The times when "the universe itself seems shattered and the shards of our world lie littered about us in pieces. We all will experience those broken times when it seems we can never be put together again. We will all have our Fridays.
But I testify to you in the name of the One who conquered death—Sunday will come. In the darkness of our sorrow, Sunday will come.
No matter our desperation,
no matter our grief,
Sunday will come.
In this life or the next,
Sunday will come."
I used to have bits of this talk hanging on my mirror, and it always gave me hope and renewed my faith. Over Easter, I reread it, and I felt the spirit testify to me that Jesus Christ lives, and that we too will be resurrected.
I asked her if there was anything I could do for her (how pathetic of an offer when all I can do is give her food and water). She told me that she just found out her husband had died, and was on her way to see him. It took every part of me not to sit down, and hold her, and tell her how sorry I am.
To tell her, "Sunday will come".
*Photograph: The Louvre, Paris.