When I felt comfortable enough in prayer such that I knew the voice of the Lord, I prayed to know his will concerning my mother. I prepared myself mentally to be as open as possible, to keep my own desire silent, so that I could hear His will. I was met with a brick wall.
I became frustrated—this worked when I prayed about Organic Chemistry. It worked when I prayed about my friends and other minor problems. I now heard the Lord all the time when I prayed. Why was He ignoring me when I asked my most important question?
I vented my frustration in prayer. I pleaded for Him to tell me and talk to me. I told Him how afraid I was of my mother’s death. And that’s when the wall came down.
I saw, in my mind, my mother walk through a veil, passing from this life to the next. There was a group of women waiting for her. They were so excited to see her, everyone hugged and laughed. A few seconds later, I walked through the veil and was met with the same enthusiasm. I understood that this did not mean my mother and I would die a few seconds apart, but that she would die, and I would finish my life without her. When I reunited with her, it would feel as if we had been separated for only seconds.
I realized my greatest fear was to be alone. I was worried about those few seconds; it wasn’t going to feel that short here and now. I begged God to stay with me, to not leave me alone.
I remembered going to the temple with my mother and step-father when I was 14 and being sealed to them for time and all eternity. The Lord told me that He had always been with me. He knew this was going to come and so He prepared me beforehand to build me up and give me the strength I would need. He had been there for me before the storm, and He certainly wasn’t going to leave me in the middle of it.
I felt again the promise that when reunited, I would recognize that the separation was very short and then we would be together for all eternity and never separated again. I wanted this promise desperately. The words of my prayer went from, “Don’t you leave me, don’t you ever leave me,” to “don’t let me leave you, don’t let me leave this church.”
I saw, in my mind’s eye with my physical eyes closed, Christ sitting in the chair upon which I was kneeling, holding me and stroking my hair as I cried. I felt like I was on fire, my entire body burning. Physical reflexes took over and I jumped back to get out of the flames. I started to drop to the ground to roll and put out the fire, and then realized there was none. Terrified and confused, I went to bed, shaking.
Much later, I read 2Ne 4:21, “He hath filled me with His love, even unto the consuming of my flesh,” and I felt an echo of that fire. God’s love is intense enough to burn away fears, to sear truth into our very souls. I knew that my mother would die from her cancer, but I was not afraid. I know that I will be with her again. The truth of God’s promises seems to be in my bones. The weakness of my flesh, the fear that comes from a mortal perspective, was gone—consumed by the flame.
As much as I wanted my mother to be healed from her cancer, to feel peace in my heart didn’t seem like a lesser or lower miracle. My desolation at the thought of her death was so intense that to feel it gone was indeed like a mountain removed in the night.
When Christ invites us to be one with Him as He is one with the Father, it is not merely poetic. Neither is it a blessing to be enjoyed only after we die. There are ways here and now to be united with God. We can learn directly from Him and He will teach us to see as He sees, to do as He does, and to love as He loves. To truly know and see the will of God, is to love it and accept it as your own. His perspective is beautiful. To change your perspective to match His is life changing. The change that will come to your heart is nothing short of miraculous.