When I was a younger girl, probably 10 or 11, my goal was to be translated–to wander out in the wilderness and be “twinkled” as my mom put it. My plan was to never die like the majority of mere mortals. And, oh yeah, my other goal was to see Christ and talk to him face to face. That would be the culmination of a worthy life. Certainly not too lofty a goal for a pre-adolescent. I had plenty of time to get it right.
I have come to a different understanding. Hovering beings shining light, a miraculous ascension, to touch scarred hands and feet or to have my own ears ring with the sound of divinity’s voice is no longer the sign that I have become a good and faithful servant. Rather my new goal is to live a regular faithful life.
I do not think that the prophets have to see Christ to be a special witness of him. Nor do I believe that I have failed to live worthily if I never in this life stand in the presence of the Savior. I do not seek for signs or miracles, I only desire to strengthen my faith.
Christ used the same means of communication with God as we do. He prayed. Christ, in my belief, didn’t know that what he was setting out to do with his suffering in Gethsemane and his crucifixion would really result in the salvation of mankind. But he did believe in it. He had faith.
I have found that my own faith is far stronger than my physical senses. I could see, hear and touch evidence disputing the restored gospel or Christ’s role as the Son of God and Savior of the world but the witness of the Holy Ghost is a resilient force.
I can see the Savior in other’s actions. I can hear his voice as I study the words of the prophets and follow the spirit. When my life comes to an end I will know that each day I did the small acts of faith I ascended a little closer to heaven. So for now I’ll just keep working on that.