Ardeth G. Kapp wrote:
“Could there ever be a time in our lives when we are striving to keep the commandments, to be obedient, yes, even to sacrifice in some small way in our small way, yet we cannot feel his arms of mercy? Could it ever be that he would reach out but we wouldn’t let him in? He says to each of us every day of our lives, “Behold, I stand at the door, and knock: if any man hear my voice and open the door, I will com into him and sup with him, and He with me” (Revelation 3:20). Do we ever refuse to open the door, maybe because we are too busy or too tired, or because we don’t hear the knock, or because we even question on occasion that he is there?
In my own life, I remember a very difficult time when I, not realizing it, refused to let him in. It was Mother’s Day. At the close of a Sunday School meeting, a young woman participating in the traditional tribute to mothers tried to push a little potted geranium, not yet in bloom, into my clenched tight fist. The clenched fist was symbolic of my heart and my mind, uptight with a myriad of unanswered questions. Why? Why?
Something about the innocence of this young girl’s face softened my heart enough to at least make me open my hand and accept the gift. I took the little plant home. In time the rays of the early morning sun released the buds, which gradually came into bloom and opened up into bright pink blossoms. From this little plant I had wanted to refuse came a message: “If you will just open you hand and your heart, the Son, the Son of God, will come to you.” I bear testimony that if—instead of wrapping our empty and aching arms around ourselves—we will open our arms, he will encircle us in his arms, his arms of mercy, his arms of love and understanding, and we will be able to open our arms to others. If through doubt and fear, we clench our fists, he can’t get through. . . .
You recall the account of Mary Magdalene burdened with grief as she stooped to look into the empty tomb. Her whole heart consumed by the anxiety of the moment, she did not recognize the person standing next to her. In the quiet of that garden setting, in the springtime of the year and the freshness of a new day, the Savior spoke her name: “Mary” (John 20:16). One word turned her grief to joy. She recognized his voice. She recognized him. . . .
Let us rise to the great challenge that faces us, using the words of Paul for our pledge: “Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, of famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword?. . . Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him that loved us. For I am persuaded that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus, our Lord” (Romans 8:35, 37-39).~Ardeth G.Kapp, formerly Young Women’s General President. Quoted from the book ‘The Gift of the Atonement’ (Salt Lake City: Deseret Book, 2002). 134-35
