06/10/2026
As I prepare for my family history journey, I find myself pondering a simple question:
“Wilt thou be made whole?”
Not, Were you hurt?
Not, Were you misunderstood?
Not, Were you betrayed?
Not, Did life treat you fairly?
Most of us can answer yes to those questions.
The Savior asks something different.
Will you be made whole?
Will you forgive?
Will you trust?
Will you surrender what you’ve carried for years?
Will you let go of the fear, the anger, the shame, the need to control, the need to be right?
Will you allow Christ to carry what you cannot?
The older I get, the more I realize that healing is not always about what happened to us.
Sometimes it is about what we do next.
Sometimes we tell ourselves:
When they apologize…
When they understand…
When they change…
When they come back…
When they finally do what they should have done…
Then I’ll have peace.
Then I’ll move forward.
Then I’ll be whole.
But what if the Savior’s invitation is not waiting on someone else’s next decision?
What if becoming whole means trusting Him enough to move forward even while some questions remain unanswered?
As I study the lives of Martin Harris, Alma, Saul, Lamoni, and the early Saints, I am struck by the fact that heaven did not remove their agency, their struggles, or their opposition.
What it offered was an invitation.
An invitation to believe.
An invitation to trust.
An invitation to become something more than they had been before.
Though they were questioned, mocked, misunderstood, and told who they were, they continued to turn toward Christ.
Nearly 200 years later, I find myself realizing that the invitation has never changed.
Not what does the world call you.
Not what happened to you.
Not what burden you’ve carried.
The question is:
What are you doing with the invitation Christ has placed before you?
And when the Savior asks,
“Wilt thou be made whole?”
What will your answer be?
