Every Monday I get to email my family. Other than two calls per year at Mother's Day and Christmas and handwritten letters every so often, it is the only communication we have for the two years that I am serving as a full-time missionary. Normally our weekly emails are full of great news: what wonderful things I am up to and what wonderful things they are up to.
This past week was different.
My momma informed me yesterday that our dog, Roxy, had to be put to sleep last Friday. I would be lying if I said that I didn't cry. Roxy was a part of me. She had been our beloved dog and family member for something like ten years. Maybe more. We always said that where other dogs might be the cutest, funnest, goofiest, or whatever dogs in the world, Roxy was definitely the sweetest. She had a heart of whatever on this Earth is of better quality than gold. She had this habit of walking up to you while you were sitting down on a chair or the couch and sitting down right in between your legs with her back to you and then looking back and up at you as if to say, "Well! Come on! Show me some love! I'm here aren't I?" She would sometimes be so keen on getting love from someone that she would sit on their feet or sit so close as to invade their personal space a little. But it didn't matter; EVERYONE loved her. It wasn't obnoxious, annoying, or frustrating. It was sweet, heart melting, and wonderful. I loved her like a member of my family, because that's what she was.
It's hard to think that she's gone. I didn't even get to say goodbye for reals. I hugged her the day I left on my mission, but at the time it was a "see-you-later" and not a "goodbye" hug. I was fully expecting to see her after a little time away. Now I can't. She has gone from this life. I remain. Without her. I feel kind of empty.
And then I remember the Atonement of our Savior Jesus Christ. I remember what He did for us so that we could be with our families for eternity. I remember that with His sacrifice He made it possible to break the bands of death in order to reunite with our loved ones in the Resurrection. I remember that the pain and sorrow that I feel is swallowed up in the joy and comfort that comes with that knowledge. I remember that I will see Roxy (as well as all those whom I love that have gone from this life) again. I remember this, and I am filled up with Light and Hope and a spirit of gratitude. I am whole again. No longer empty.
The promises of the Atonement aren't extended solely to me my friends. They are extended to each and every one of us. I invite you to ponder your losses. Think on those that you have lost that you once loved and talked with and held in your arms. Now ponder the joy you will feel when you are reunited with them again because of what your Savior did. Ponder what it will be like to embrace them in His Light and Radiance on that wonderful day when He returns. I testify that it will happen, and that the Atonement is real. I testify that He lives, and made all of this possible. I do so in His Sacred Name. Amen.
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