A Dim Light of Hope
This is a talk that will be given by Mimi in Sacrament Meeting tomorrow (July 27th, 2025) in Eugene, Oregon.
For this talk, Brother [NAME] gave me the topic titled “Having a Perfect Brightness of Hope.”
However…I think my talk is titled something more along the lines of “My hope isn’t a perfect brightness, but I’m trying to hold on to some dim light over here.”
Perhaps “perfect brightness,” at least for me right now in my life, is out of reach.
So, let me walk you through my dim light of hope.
In February of this year, my family experienced one of the scariest and hardest things I’ve ever gone through. While I don’t want to go into details about the experience itself, I’ll just say that it left me with an incredible ache in my very being. I felt betrayed. Betrayed by friends. Betrayed by God. I lost trust. I lost trust in people. I lost trust in God. Incredible sadness was all-consuming. My eyes were like a leaky faucet and I couldn’t quite seem to turn off the tears.
Five months later (and lots of therapy and self-introspection), I’m doing remarkably better. But, I can’t say that those feelings are gone. In fact, sometimes I still feel them raging through my mind, body, and spirit. Somedays I wonder if I’ll ever stop being so hurt. Sometimes I cry to God that I am angry and wish I could heal faster. Sometimes I cry to God that I want to be done believing in His existence. Sometimes I just cry to God with no words to say.
But the thing is, even when crying out to God with these intensely sad feelings, I realize I still have a glimmer of hope. I guess that hope is what brings me back: crying out to God.
Perhaps some of you today have felt the same types of feelings I described. Perhaps you have felt betrayed and lost trust. Perhaps you have wondered whether God betrayed you. Perhaps you have cried out to God in deep anger. Perhaps you have wondered whether you would ever be able to feel hope in your heart.
My prayer is that today the Spirit might touch both you and me. My prayer today is that you and I might both feel a bit of God’s love as I speak. My prayer today is that we might both feel hope.
In the aftermath of the event my family experienced, the words I’ve heard over the pulpit so many times came into my head: “All is made right through the Atonement of Jesus Christ.” But between tears and confusion and feelings of betrayal, rather than these words bringing me comfort, all I could think was “HOW? How is all made right through the Atonement of Jesus Christ?”
I delved into a personal study of the scriptures and conference talks. And no matter what I read, I kept just asking “HOW? How is all made right through the Atonement of Jesus Christ? Can Christ help me TODAY? Can Christ make things right in my LIFETIME? WHEN will I feel that all is made right? HOW does this work?”
And the truth is, I don’t have an answer. And I don’t know that I’ll get an answer. And even if I did get an answer, I bet my answer would look and feel a bit different than an answer for someone else. Given the all-encompassing love that Christ has for each one of us individually, my guess is the way He heals and the way He makes things right through His Atonement is likely different depending on the individual.
In preparation for this talk, I was rereading my study journal from March of this year – when I was still a leaky faucet of sadness. That day, I was painfully grappling with how Christ makes things right. In my journal, I copy/pasted a quote from a 2012 talk by Linda K. Burton (who was, at the time, the General Relief Society President). The quote said:
“A [woman] walking along a road fell into a pit so deep [she] could not climb out. No matter what [she] did, [she] could not get out by [herself]. The [woman] called for help and rejoiced when a kind passerby heard [her] and lowered a ladder down into the pit. This allowed [her] to climb out of the pit and regain [her] freedom. We are like the [woman] in the pit. Sinning is like falling into the pit, and we can’t get out by ourselves. Just as the kind passerby heard the [woman’s] cry for help, Heavenly Father sent his Only Begotten Son to provide the means of escape. Jesus Christ’s atonement could be compared to lowering a ladder into the pit; it gives us the means to climb out.” But the Savior does more than lower the ladder, He “comes down into the pit and makes it possible for us to use the ladder to escape.” “Just as the [woman] in the pit had to climb up the ladder, we must repent of our sins and obey the gospel principles and ordinances to climb out of our pit and make the Atonement work in our lives. Thus, after all we can do, the Atonement makes it possible for us to become worthy to return to Heavenly Father’s presence.”
My notes about this quote were short. While I was in a time of deep pain and trying to find meaning, I simply wrote: “I like the idea of this. But what if my voice isn’t loud enough to call for help? And what if I’m not the one who got myself thrown into this pit anyway?”
Rereading it now, months later, I think I have some answers for myself. Mainly my answer to my previous self is: it doesn’t matter. I don’t think it matters if my voice isn’t loud enough to call for help. And I don’t think it matters how I got into the pit. I think Christ wants to help us get out of the pit no matter what. I think Christ can hear us even when we’re too tired or sick or hurt to truly call for help. I think Christ can hear us even when we feel the weight of the world pushing us further into this pit. I think Christ can hear us even when we want to give up. Christ is there for us. He is listening for us.
Alma 7:12 says that Christ suffered for us so that he would know how to “succor his people.” Succor (as defined by Google dictionary) means: “give assistance or aid to.” Basically, Christ suffered for us so that he would know exactly how to help us and how to give us the help that we, on an individual level, need.
I believe that no matter how far deep we are in that metaphorical pit that President Burton described and no matter how we fell or got pushed into that pit, Christ knows us as individuals and wants to help us out. He goes, as the Good Shepherd, looking for us, as lost sheep, (even if our cries aren’t very loud) and he wants us to feel some love in our hearts. He wants us to feel at least a dim light of hope.
Christian Pastor Emily David described how Christ knows us personally and this personal relationship is what brings us hope. She said:
“Understanding the opportunity we have to know Jesus personally fills us with hope and joy. Each of us is invited into a unique relationship with Him. This relationship is not about mere rules or obligatory prayers; it’s about genuine connection. Jesus calls us into this relationship through compassion, love, and grace. He desires to meet us where we are and take us on a journey where we can know Him more deeply. When we open our hearts and invite Him in, we discover a loving Savior who cares for us intimately. This personal aspect of knowing Jesus means we can talk to Him about our joys, struggles, and everything in between. In turn, we gain insight, peace, and guidance through His wisdom and support.”
I love this quote because it touches on how personal hope might be for each of us. It can’t be a one-size-fits-all characteristic because we each are on a different journey and each have a different relationship with Christ. But he meets us on this journey – even if we feel like we’re at the bottom of a pit of despair – and journeys with us. He cares for us intimately on each step of this journey.
I want to add my own thought that sometimes it might be too hard to feel His presence. Sometimes we might be in a darkness where we really do not feel His love. But I believe He is there in those times. I believe He waits patiently for us as we allow ourselves to be touched by him. I believe He cares in those darkest moments, even when we feel so alone. And maybe not even my belief is perfect. Maybe sometimes I just have a tiny dim light of hope that He is there. But I do hope and believe that He wants to help us through the darkest of times.
One of the hymns that was recently added to the hymnbook, Gethsemane, feels particularly relevant to developing a relationship with Christ and feeling hope through Him.
The songwriter, Melanie Hoffman, said that when she was writing this hymn she had wanted to think of a way to convey to children the power of what Christ did for us in Gethsemane. She said, ““I realized that even the youngest of children need to understand that Jesus suffered for them because He loves them. His atoning gift of love began in Gethsemane, continued on Calvary, and gloriously culminated at the empty tomb.” Though she wrote the song for children, the words touch my heart as I think of Christ’s personal love for me. The lyrics of the song go like this:
1.
Jesus climbed the hill to the Garden still; His steps were heavy and slow.
Love and a prayer took Him there to the place only He could go.
Gethsemane! Jesus loves me,
So He went willingly to Gethsemane.
2.
He felt all that was sad, wicked, or bad, all the pain we would ever know.
While His friends were asleep, He fought to keep His promise made long ago.
Gethsemane! Jesus loves me,
So He went willingly to Gethsemane.
The hardest thing that ever was done,
The greatest pain that ever was known,
The biggest battle that ever was won—
This was done by Jesus!
The fight was won by Jesus!
Gethsemane! Jesus loves me,
So He gave this gift to me in Gethsemane.
Gethsemane! Jesus loves me,
So He gives this gift to me from Gethsemane.
I hope that we each take these beautiful lyrics with us today and remember that Christ went willingly for me. He went willingly for you. He went willingly because of His personal love. And in that we can find hope.
In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.
