"What if I don't want to be with my family forever?"
A reflection on Joyfully Receive the Unexpected Messiah
Today I am reflecting on the BYU devotional Joyfully Receive the Unexpected Messiah by Elder Dieter F. Uchtdorf (link here: https://speeches.byu.edu/talks/dieter-f-uchtdorf/joyfully-receive-the-unexpected-messiah/). It seems a fitting follow up to my Easter post from a few weeks ago.
Elder Uchtdorf begins his message by reiterating, as I did, the fact that what Christ actually did (save us from sin and death, and by so doing, dying Himself), was so unlike what people expected Him to do (overthrow the Romans) that many, including His own disciples, were baffled and disappointed. Of course, it becomes obvious to us in retrospect, as is so often the case, that
“…the fact that He chose to take His cross, walk the winepress alone, and bring the ultimate sacrifice to the divine altar to rescue all of God’s children— even though He had the power to save Himself—has become the supernal witness that He is indeed the Son of God. He was submissive to His Father’s will and was committed to fulfilling His Father’s plan of salvation to the last breath.”
But of course, here in the moment, we don’t have the luxury of retrospect. As Elder Uchtdorf put in, “Aren’t unexpected surprises part of our lives?”
He goes on to say,
“The gospel of Jesus Christ is a gospel of high ideals. Many of us are drawn to the Savior precisely because He lifts our sights and our aspirations high above and beyond anything the world has to offer.
We believe, for example, that every human being is a beloved child of the most glorious being in the universe! And because of that, each of us has limitless potential and a glorious divine destiny!
We believe in “the blessed and happy state of those that [are willing to] keep the commandments of God.”11 We have faith that the path of discipleship is the path of divine joy—that living the gospel leads to a happy, peaceful life with strong family relationships that will go beyond this life into the eternities.
Those are some of the ideals of the gospel. They are beautiful and hopeful, and they are true. I am a witness of that.
So it shouldn’t come as a surprise that they don’t always match the messy, mundane realities of mortality.”
Of course they don’t. If we were to live in a perfect world, there would be no opportunities for change, or for growth. And yet confronting that in our personal lives can be absolutely gut wrenching. But I loved Elder Uchtdorf’s advice on this:
“So what do we do when the beautiful, universal, eternal ideals of the gospel clash with the painful, individual, mortal realities of life?
There are at least two things you should remember:
Never give up on the ideal.
Don’t disregard the real.
Accept both.
It’s not easy for our mortal minds and hearts to hold onto two concepts that seem to contradict one another.”
I love all of his advice on how to do this, which I will talk a little more about in a minute. But I wanted to pause here to mention something that has been on my mind quite a lot lately.
I love Primary songs, the songs we teach our children in church from ages 3-12. I love singing them to and with my kids, especially the ones about families. Their beautiful words about the ideal of family life feel so real to me that I want my girls to carry them around with them wherever they go. But lately I’ve been reflecting more on how those songs may sound to those who have experienced family situations far from the ideal in some way. The title of this post is something I first heard on my mission, and I think at the time I was both saddened and maybe even a little surprised. Since then, I’ve come to see that for those in not ideal and very real terrible family relationships, this gospel principle that brings me so much hope does not sound like a promise at all, but a curse. Similarly, even some of the lines I find most precious in beloved Primary songs (for example: Heavenly Father has sent us to “parents kind and dear,” “God gave us families to help us become what He wants us to be--This is how He shares His love,” or “I have a fam’ly here on earth. They are so good to me. I want to share my life with them through all eternity.”) may make those who do not find them accurate to their own lives may feel foreign, confusing, unrealistic, or even alienating.
My heart aches for all of those for whom this is the case, for any reason. Even more so for my friends whose stories I know personally. And yet, that is the reality. At its root, it all goes back to the age-old question: why would a loving God allow suffering?
I’m not ready to tackle that question in this post, partly because it would result in a much longer and more rambling post than I intended here. I will get back to Elder Uchtdorf’s take on all of this in a minute. But I’m going to go on one more detour first.
My husband and I recently started watching the BBC murder mystery show Father Brown. In one of the episodes, a mother who lost her only child asked the priest why, to which he responded (paraphrased, I don’t have the actual quote in front of me), “I don’t know why God allowed your child to die. But I do know that God knows what it is like to lose a child. And He is reaching out to help you through this now.”
I, um, completely lost it when watching that. I think partly because in all of the many possible answers for why we have imperfect families here on earth (or any other problem for that matter), this is the one that resonates with me most. The actual why of many of these things may be complex, and may not have a simple answer or one that applies to all situations. Like Father Brown, I too don’t know why some people have abusive parents, why others lose a spouse to death or divorce, why children get sick, etc., etc.. But I do know that God knows what it is like to be betrayed by family. To be hated by His children. To be ignored, deserted. Our Savior Jesus Christ knows, of course. But also our Heavenly Father. Which means that They can and will help us through whatever challenges we are facing now. Maybe sometimes there are whys in specific cases that we’ll find out in this life. Maybe not. But like Nephi, “I do not know the meaning of all things” but I do know that God “loveth his children” (1 Nephi 11:17). And that means me. And you. And everyone.
Back to Elder Uchtdorf.
“So, to resolve the disconnect in our minds, we might jump quickly to conclusions: “If I’m suffering, I must have done something wrong.” Or “If I’m not seeing the blessings I hoped for, the promises must not be real.” Or, as the thief on the cross wondered, “If He is the Christ, why doesn’t He end my pain?”
But maybe there’s another way to look at things.[…]
We tend to think of joy as the absence of sorrow.
But what if joy is not the absence of sorrow?
What if joy and sorrow can coexist?
What if they have to coexist?
It’s interesting that Lehi’s declaration about joy comes in the same breath as his observation about the fall of Adam and Eve. He seems to be saying that their transgression in the Garden of Eden, which brought pain and death and sickness and sorrow into the world, also made way for joy.
In other words, if you wait for sorrow to end before you experience joy, you might miss joy completely. To experience a measure of sorrow may enable your heart and mind to receive pure heavenly joy!”
He also discusses trusting God’s wisdom and timing and seeking a higher perspective by drawing closer to the Lord in prayer and scripture study. I would strongly recommend the full devotional to anyone struggling with the dissonance between the real and the ideal in their lives right now.
But to wrap up my own post, I would just like to testify that I believe in a God who truly loves all of His children, including you. I believe in an unexpected Messiah who gave Himself as the ultimate sacrifice to make your joy possible even in the midst of sorrow. I believe in God’s plan of salvation that can make everything right, that can compensate fully for any wrong or sorrow you experience. And I believe that in hoping and striving for the ideal even while acknowledging the real, someday we will have the opportunity that we have all we hope for.
If you feel inclined, I’d love to hear from you! A question I’ve been pondering:
How can we help those who may feel like they don’t belong due to circumstances in their lives not matching “the ideal,” either as individuals or as a church?
I would love any other thoughts you have as well.
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Our Journeys Home
Every one of us is on a journey. Ideally each of us is striving to return home, although that path does not always look the way we wish it would. Some of our paths may wind or include things we wish they didn't or exclude other things we really wanted. As Elder Uchtdorf said in his talk “


So many people can relate to this talk. It can be very painful.
As to your question, maybe you have heard this little verse. I think I remember it from Junior high . .
"She drew a circle and shut me out.
Heretic, rebel, a thing to flout.
But Love and I had the wit to win.
We drew a circle and brought her in." (a bigger circle than hers)
This thought makes more sense with chalk, or a whiteboard, or a finger in the dirt.
However, try bringing an outcast into your circle of love. Even the very one who pushes you away. Then, after a measure of trust has formed, softly bring them to the concept of welcoming another soul into the circle. This act of inclusion(service) will help them see they are not alone, others want to be included and they can make a difference by helping another. Not easy, but possible. Love and service. A winning combination. Not sure I answered your question but, this verse made a difference in my life and some of my friends.
I love your thoughts on this.