Wednesday, April 2, 2014

For a Dear Friend



I wanted my blog to be something that was upbeat and fun, but it’s not happening right now. I just got off work and received a call from my family. A good friend since high school, who helped me get through school really, has been missing for a few days. (To respect her family’s privacy, I will refer to her as Akiko) My family told me that she committed suicide very recently. At first, it didn’t seem real. Actually, I’m still wrapping my mind around it. She was so upbeat and happy, she always made me laugh. She loved Sherlock and she was a lot of fun to talk Doctor who with. She even helped me get my first date, which was a date to prom. Akiko was the best. I knew she struggled a lot, but I never ever ever thought it would come to this.

This is sort of weird, because I’m in my 20s, but to be honest I have never had anyone I know well die. 
 And you know I always thought it would be some of my older relatives that would be the first to go (Sorry grandma and grandpa). Once it started sinking in, unbelievably one of my first reactions was frustration! It wasn’t fair! She had a whole life in front of her! She had lots of friends! She meant a lot to a lot of people! Why would she leave us now?  Everyone I know who knew Akiko loved her. As it started sinking in more, that’s when the sadness began. I’m going to miss a lot about her. Like, when we were in the car driving to and from a mutual friend’s house and blowing up the “cannibal factory” with our photon torpedoes I happened to have in my car. See, you can’t find quality friends like that very often.

On my mission I would discuss with people about their departed loved ones. They would question why they were gone, why God would allow that to happen. They would wonder, what will happen to them? They’d wonder.  I even came across a few who believed that their loved ones were condemned to hell. I’ll admit, I’d often let my companion take that, who often could relate to them better. I had no personal experience.

Now I do. My first reaction was to drown my sadness in Facebook. But with a gentle prod from the Spirit, I decided to do the thing I told people to do for the past 2 years in situations like this; I cracked open my scriptures.

My scriptures are really marked up. In orange I have marked the scriptures that relate to the plan of salvation. This plan is God’s plan. Before the earth was created we lived with God. He knew us and we knew him, and he loved us and we loved him. We were his spirit children. He presented a plan to come to earth and gain a body and experience. We accepted that plan, even though we knew it would be hard. 
Thankfully, God’s first born child volunteered to be our Savior, so we could overcome our mistakes and return to God after we die. When we die our spirits go to the Spirit World, were we learned more and waited for the resurrection, when we would be reunited with our bodies in their perfect form. It was then that we would return to live with our Father in happiness forever.

That’s what I told people. I knew and believed this.

But now it’s different, because this isn’t John’s mother who died years ago, this is Akiko. She was there. She’s not abstract. She’s real, and now she’s gone. I needed some answers.

I have a few already. I’m well assured that I will see Akiko again. That is a fact that resides deep in my heart. It is going to be fun when I see her again. But I needed to know what would happen to her. Taking a life is a big deal, including your own. I wondered what led her to do such an act. What could she have been feeling? She was alone, and she must have felt terrible. More terrible than I have ever felt. I don’t think it’s fair that she had to feel that alone. What would God think of her? Is he disappointed? Or sad?

I flipped through the orange tabs that were scattered throughout my Holy Bible and Book of Mormon. They told me she would be the same spirit that she was here on earth, that she would have a perfect body free from the ailments that she had while she was here. All of these words brought comfort, but I didn’t really get my answers until I came across this scripture.

Alma 7:11-13
1 And he shall go forth, suffering pains and aafflictions andbtemptations of every kind; and this that the word might be fulfilled which saith he will ctake upon him the pains and the sicknesses of his people.
 12 And he will take upon him adeath, that he may bloose the bands of death which bind his people; and he will take upon him their infirmities, that his bowels may be filled with mercy, according to the flesh, that he may know according to the flesh how to csuccorhis people according to their infirmities.
 13 Now the Spirit aknoweth all things; nevertheless the Son of God suffereth according to the bflesh that he might ctake upon him the sins of his people, that he might blot out their transgressions according to the power of his deliverance; and now behold, this is the testimony which is in me.

It clicked then. I’ve read this scripture a thousand times and knew it was powerful, but the Spirit brought it into a new light. Akiko did not die alone. She did not suffer alone. She was not alone with her feelings. She sat shoulder to shoulder with the best Man this world has ever known, and they felt it together. Jesus Christ felt every bit of whatever Akiko was feeling. He felt what it feels like to wish to die.

To be honest, I sort of feared what it would be like for judgment day for her (call me a religious freak :P). But now I understand that too. I’ve heard that one of the best people a woman who recently had a miscarriage can talk to is another woman who also had a miscarriage. That’s because she can perfectly emphasize what the no-longer-to-be mother is going through. Jesus Christ is the only person ever who can perfectly judge us, because he knows what it’s like to be us.

Like all of us, Akiko is going to stand before Jesus. I see it in my mind’s eye. And you know what? I see them sitting down together and crying together. Both of them have felt her great sorrow. Jesus has his arm around her. He’s consoling her. He’s encouraging her. He loves her so much. He knows all her imperfections and her faults, and despite it all loves her more than we can possibly know. And she’s going to feel that. And if she chooses it, she will feel that burden lifted off her. She will be everything she was meant to be.

I don’t know everything. There’s a lot I don’t know. I don’t know why she left now. And right now I’m emotional as heck. But I do know it will be alright. I know that Christ not only knows how she felt, but how we feel  too. It’s going to be a long journey for all of us, but I feel that quite assurance that it will be alright.


Akiko, we’re going to miss you a lot. But don’t worry, we’ll see you soon. Take care, alright?