The Atonement is infinite yet very personal. I believe that the Savior has a very personal relationship with each of us. Yet, I would never be so bold as to put my words in the Savior’s mouth. What follows is a story I wrote to reveal how the atonement is infinite yet very personal. And I thought I might share it with you now. Beyond what is written in scripture, there is no way that I can claim to know what Jesus would say. But I do know that His love for us is beyond imagination, and that is ultimately the truth. I hope you like it enough to get to the very end, for that is the best part.
Two Brothers
I’m dying, I know this to be true. It won’t be long now; my heart is struggling with each beat. I can scarcely draw a breath. They say your life flashes by your eyes just before death and I begin to see …
My little brother kneels to tie his shoes. His tiny fingers struggle to get the laces to do what he knows they must to form a lasting knot. His little tongue pokes out the corner of his mouth as he concentrates all his energy on those slippery vines. Oh, how I want to step in and help him, but I know that I cannot. If I do it for him, he will never learn how to do it just right. He finishes and looks up at me and grins.” I did it! Just like you showed me!”. A smile erupts on my face, how I love this little guy. He’s growing up so fast!
He jumps up and races down the sidewalk, his little legs and arms pumping up and down as fast as he can. And as I run to follow, he turns a corner, so I speed up to catch him.
The alley out back
As I approach the corner, the scene before me fades and I’m in a house. Looking out the window, I see my brother on his bike, but he’s older now, maybe six or seven. He’s riding around the yard, showing off as usual. He races by the house headed for the alley out back like he’s done a thousand times before. As I look out the window, my heart skips a beat. There is a car coming down the alley and the garage is blocking his view! “Stop!” I scream, but he doesn’t hear me. I run down the stairs and out the back door. The squeal of tires and the crash of the bike frame against metal sounds in my ears. I reach the alley at a full sprint and slide to a stop. My brother is lying on the ground bloodied from a broken nose, crying, but alive.
An older gentleman, who was driving the car, has a handkerchief over his nose and is speaking kindly to him. He looks up at me. With anguish in his eyes, “he came out of nowhere, I didn’t have time to stop, I’m so sorry!” I see the truth in his eyes and tell him that it’s ok. My brother will be ok and that’s what matters. I’m so relieved, that I close my eyes to pray “Thank you for sparing my brother, he has a lifetime yet to live!”
High School
Opening my eyes, I lift my head and look around. Time has passed by so quickly. We‘re in high school now, my brother and I, and it’s quite a time for us! He’s become so popular; it makes me laugh. Everyone likes him and girls are always trying to get his attention. He’s the star of the track team, a natural athlete! I smirk a little that his nose is still a bit crooked from that accident years ago. He is not as perfect as he thinks he is!
I see him walking with his friends down the hall, I call out to him but he either doesn’t hear me or he’s ignoring me again. Siblings do things like that just to irritate each other. We don’t talk much anymore, he’s so busy with track practice, and hanging out with his friends. I miss those talks. He doesn’t ask for my advice anymore.
Following him down the hallway to the lunchroom, I open the door and find myself standing outside his house. He’s married now, with two kids of his own. My niece and nephew! They remind me so much of him when he was little. How I love them. His wife is an amazing woman, full of grace and charm. She makes everyone feel welcome and seems to have a smile that could brighten even the darkest day.
Losing it all
My brother works all the time now it seems, always needing something new or fast, or stylish. Even when he’s home, his mind is elsewhere. He’s never happy with where he is, always looking for more. It has been years since we’ve spoken to each other, and I miss hearing from him. Whenever I visit, it’s just the wife and kids at home, but today, maybe it will be different. I approach the front door, and I can hear the TV blasting. When I knock no one answers. I knock again, and call out “Hello, will somebody let me in?”
Maybe he’s in his office, and I walk around the side of the house to tap on the window there. If he’s home, that’s where he spends his time working. It looks like the light is on, and I approach the window. I see my brother at his desk working on his computer. I lift my hand to rap on the windowsill to get his attention. Then, I see the images on the monitor in front of him and I want to wretch. Why is he looking at that filth? He has a beautiful wife and children that love him. Why isn’t he with them instead of doing this? Tears flow from my eyes, as I whisper his name; “please, please stop looking at that” I cry. The tears blur my vision.
I don’t need you anymore
When my sight clears, it is dark. I’m not sure where I am and look around to get my bearings. The smells of alcohol and tobacco assault me. I’m in a bar, and I see my brother sitting in a dark corner, all alone at a small table. He looks horrible. His eyes, once bright and playful, are dull and lifeless. He is withdrawn, angry, and resentful of everything and everyone. A half-empty bottle of Jack Daniels sits next to him, his only companion.
He can’t hear me calling his name because the jukebox is too loud, so I walk right up to him. I want to shake him and yell at him in my frustration. I beg him not to throw away his life like this. The rage drips from his drunken lips as he yells at me “you abandoned me! I thought you loved me. I had everything, and you took it all away. There is nothing left, so just leave me alone! I don’t need you anymore!”
“I have never left you!” I tell him. “I’ve always wanted to be a part of your life, but you won’t let me.” He refuses to listen and stumbles out of the bar and into the night. My knees buckle and I sink to the floor as sorrow overwhelms me. How I miss that little boy who used to sit on my lap and listen to everything I said with such love and trust. This man, my brother, is full of anger, hatred, and darkness now. “Is he evil? Is he lost forever?” I pray to God, “Please help him!”.
I’m so sorry
A whisper comes to my ears and warmth fills my chest. I lift my eyes and I’m back at my brother’s house again, standing at his door. It’s quiet now, and I knock gently on the door. I hear footsteps approaching and my heart skips a beat. The door opens, and my brother sees that it is me and sobs rip from his chest as he lunges to embrace me. Shaking, he repeatedly cries in my ear “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry”. My arms wrap around him, and I hold him tightly. “I love you so much,” I tell him. “I have missed you, may I please come in?”
We talk for hours, he cries, and I cry. There is so much pain, so much guilt that he feels for what he’s done. Sometimes, he can’t get the words out and just weeps, tears dripping one after another from his face. Finally, the tears subside and his breathing calms. “Your journey back is just beginning,” I say, “but you can do this, and you are not alone. I will be here with you and if you let me, I can help you make this all better. It won’t be easy. You have hurt a lot of people. In fact, this will be the hardest thing you will ever do, but we can get through it together. You and I can do this, together!”
Sitting next to him I know that if I could take away his pain, I would pay any price. But I know that I cannot. The pain is part of the process he needs to endure to change into the person he has promised me that he would be. But now I have hope and so does he!
It is finished
Gasping for air, I jerk awake. I’m dying and white-hot pain courses through every cell in my body, I can’t do this much longer. My brother, where is he? Is he ok? I want to see him again! Oh, the pain! I can’t think straight I thirst. Someone gives me a drink, but I can’t, it hurts too much. The blood drips from my hands, my wrists, and my feet. And with my final breath, I proclaim “It is finished”.
