Flashes of Light

Missing Home

At the beginning of one of his early elementary school years, my son was nervous about going to school. He didn’t want to be away from home all day.

My husband gave our son a small smooth red glass. He put it in his pocket every morning for weeks. It reminded him of home and of those who loved him. It was a tangible feeling of warmth and light.

Have you ever hoped for light?

Have you ever hoped for the Light of the World?

• His presence
• His comfort
• His guidance
• His love

I am the light, and the life, and the truth of the world.

Ether 4:12

Flashes of Light

In a “flash of light,” I came across this story. It happened to Steven Lund.

Once on a business trip, Steven landed before dawn in Asia. He climbed in the backseat and rolled up his overcoat to use as a cushion. He was hoping to sleep, but instead, he was riveted to the scenery outside his window.

As it began to get lighter, he noticed a river that emptied into the ocean. But then his view was blocked by tall concrete walls. He absently stared at the wall as he drove by it at high speed.

At the end of the wall, he glanced back at the vista previously blocked from his view. He realized it was just as he had imagined.

He looked farther and saw the sailboat. Suddenly he wondered: “How did I know to look for that sailboat? I could not have known it was there, but somehow I did.”

He realized none of what he saw had surprised him. But why? It dawned on him that the concrete wall had small gaps. As he sped across the bridge, he had been staring at the gray concrete punctuated by tiny flashes of bright light through the narrow slits.

Somewhere in his mind the information combined to create a vision of what lay on the other side of the wall. He said: “I knew what was there before I knew that I knew.”

Life often presents itself as an incessant gray wall stretching off into nowhere, but here and there, if you watch for them, flickers of light – assurances of God’s love for us will become evident.

Flashes of Light, Steven Lund at BYU Devotional, Sept 2022

I’ve had flashes of light. Times that I may not have recognized then, but in looking back I see assurances of God’s love. I bet you’ve had them too.

Inspiration

I’d been thinking about a church talk for several weeks. I spent time reading and writing it. I planned to finish it before attending a Christmas party the night before, but when I left home, my talk had major holes.

I got home late and went to bed after praying for more light. The next morning when I awoke, several ideas came to my mind – one after another – that helped me finish my talk.

Rex

Our family has sent Christmas cards for years. Every year a few are returned. When Rex’s card was returned, I realized it wasn’t the first time. I wondered if Rex was okay; he’d had health challenges since he was born.

I googled his name and took a quick breath when I saw his picture and then his obituary. 

A former roommate of Scott’s, Rex became my friend too. Rex was about half of Scott’s height, couldn’t see beyond a few inches of his face and had endured lots of surgeries to straighten his bones.

He made pies and made jokes and loved being thrown in the pool by his roommates. Normally, when Scott and I sat down to eat dinner, he’d come to the table, put his face 2 inches from my plate and ask, “Mmm. Taste good?”

Through the years, we’ve quoted Rex and memories of him made us smile. He brought light to our lives then and now. So my tears were easy when I read the first lines of his obituary: Rex was “welcomed at heaven’s gate Monday evening.” and the last lines: “And now, he’s home, free to be who he really is.”

Where to Live?

At the end of my sophomore year at BYU, my roommate (and lifelong friend) and I were deciding where to live the next year. We’d looked at several places, but I felt unsettled.

I told her I was sad to leave and she said: You know, we could stay here. I felt a sudden peace and we signed a contract to stay another year.

The next year this guy named Scott moved into our apartment complex. He was fresh home from a mission in the Gilbert Islands with a few quirks like pointing with his nose and showing the length of fish on his arm.

Soon after our first meeting, we were inseparable. We just celebrated our 36th anniversary.

Truth

Scott and I lived in Columbus, Ohio for 18 months: long enough to visit Kirtland 4 times. On one visit, we were guided by a senior missionary. As a new member of the church, he and his family attended meetings in the John Johnson Home where Joseph Smith received many revelations.

The missionary shared his very personal conversion story and the verses that were revealed in that room resonated with him decades earlier.

And now, after the many testimonies which have been given of him, this is the testimony, last of all, which we give of him: That he lives!

Doctrine and Covenants 76:22-24

The Kirtland missionary heard the scripture and thought “That’s right.” He recognized truth, not just with his head, but also with his heart.

It reminded me of an experience 20 years ago. When I was only weeks pregnant an ultrasound technician said the words: “You’re having twins.” I was not surprised. My immediate thought was, “That’s right.” The words weren’t a revelation, but a confirmation. I knew who was there before I knew I knew.

When you hear the truth, if you are accompanied by the spirit, rather than only your intellect, you will recognize something you already know deep within your soul.

Alone

An hour after I heard my dad say: “Mom is gone,” I lean back in the seat as my husband drives. Even in my shock and disbelief, a worry starts to grow. She was alone. My mom was alone when she died. The thought consumed me and deepened my grief all day and most of the night.

Until I awoke with a memory of a story my mom shared when I was much younger. She was on a hospital gurney — pregnant and hemorrhaging — being pulled away from my dad. Alone. Until she was aware of her parents walking on either side of her.

She wasn’t alone when she died. Those who had gone before were with her: parents and daughter. The flash of light, or tender mercy, has stayed with me all these years and still gives me peace.

Sunset

My family knows I look for sunsets because I send them regular pictures. I love the thought that even when they’re far away, my people see the same sun.

As I watch the changing colors of a sunset, I am inspired by the sheer beauty and comforted by the constancy. I feel safe in the care of God and remember God’s hand in my life.

To me, a sunrise holds the promise of a new beginning. A sunrise or a sunset — literal flashes of light — remind to me to be present in beauty and to reflect on gifts.

These flashes of light and others create a picture I sometimes see, but more often feel.

Have you remembered your flashes of light? Maybe you could write them down. When you start writing, you’ll think of more.

Nothing will surprise us more than when we get to heaven and see the Father and realize how well we know Him and how familiar His face is to us.

Ezra Taft Benson

Star

Light – and the star – is one of the loveliest signs of Jesus’ birth.

I picture the Wise Men seeing the star and knowing its significance. I picture them gathering gifts, following the star, journeying toward the light. I see them rejoicing when they find Him, falling on their knees to worship Him.

The Wise Men had it right. They hoped for light. They looked and they found it. I want to take my own journey to Bethlehem. I want to take a step, move through, slow down, sit still, seek quiet, engage daily, be present, listen more and love better.

I want to look for the light and follow it. I want to find Jesus Christ, the beginning of light, life, forgiveness, peace, rest, hope and joy.