Wednesday, July 29, 2015

Mourning with Hope

I read a book awhile back and it talked about the idea of mourning with hope versus mourning without hope.  Generally speaking, people that believe in God and a life after this life, mourn with hope.  They mourn with the belief that this life is not the end and they will see their loved one again.  Those who mourn without hope believe it's over; this life is it.  How terribly awful to think about that.  So, you mourn either way, but it is a very different way to mourn.  I am mourning a temporary separation; not the end of a relationship.  

I was reading in the Book of Mormon and read about a similar idea.  In Alma 28 there is huge battle between the Lamanites and Nephites.  Tens of thousands die.  Tens of thousands.  Every single one of those people was someone's father....brother....son....friend.  How often do we really consider that when we hear death toll numbers.  That is a lot mourning.

In verse 6 it says: "And now surely this was a sorrowful day; yea, a time of solemnity, and a time of much fasting and prayer."

It was a time of sorrow and solemnity but also a time of fasting and prayer.  The sorrow and solemnity came without any effort; that part happens pretty naturally.  But then there is this idea of fasting and prayer.  That is an active process, rather than a passive process.  It shows that they were turning their hearts to God in their sorrow.

It goes on to talk about two different groups of people. The first group they talk about is those that mourn the loss of their loved ones and have no hope for an ultimate happy ending.  They will not live with God.  The second group mourns the loss of those they love, but have hope that they are raised to dwell with God; that they have lived good and wholesome lives and their ending is glorious.

Verse 11-12: "And the bodies of many thousands are laid low in the earth, while the bodies of many thousands are moldering in heaps upon the face of the earth; yea, and many thousands are mourning for the loss of their kindred, because they have reason to fear, according to the promises of the Lord, that they are consigned to a state of endless wo.  While many thousands of others truly mourn for the loss of their kindred, yet they rejoice and exult in the hope, and even know, according to the promises of the Lord, that they are raised to dwell at the right hand of God, in a state of never-ending happiness."

Both groups mourn.  They do.  Sometimes people skip over that part and go right to eternal life; like tomorrow this will all be okay.... it will be over.  Well, it will be over someday.  It will be okay someday.  But today is not that day.  I mourn with hope:  The hope that I will see Eli again.  The hope that I will still raise him as my child.  The hope that he is bound to me by the power of the priesthood.  The hope that he is near even though I may not always be aware.  But I still mourn.

This quote by Neal A. Maxwell articulate this point perfectly.  Although we may have what he calls 'ultimate hope....' hope that is afar off.... it is the next few steps and the next few breathes that require just as much hope.  And sometimes that hope is harder to come by:

"Though “anchored” in grand and ultimate hope, some of our tactical hopes are another matter. We may hope for a pay raise, a special date, an electoral victory, or for a bigger house—things which may or may not be realized. Faith in Father’s plan gives us endurance even amid the wreckage of such proximate hopes. Hope keeps us “anxiously engaged” in good causes even when these appear to be losing causes (Brightness of  Hope).

He goes on to say that "daily hope is vital, since the 'Winter Quarters' of our lives are not immediately adjacent to our promised land either. An arduous trek still awaits, but hope spurs weary disciples on."

And lastly, I feel like this verse from Alma 28 again, sums up my blog: "....(my) journeyings.....(my) sufferings, (my) sorrows, and (my) afflictions, and (my) incomprehensible joy."  I would add that it also includes my hope.  Joy and hope can coexist with sorrow and suffering.