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Where’s My Golden Rope?

I had the opportunity to teach the Young Women last Sunday.  The lesson was on not procrastinating repentance.  The following is a true story, something that happened to me as a youth.

Have you ever felt like you wanted to repent but were to embarrassed to go to the Bishop for confession?  So you procrastinate until time fades the urgency and before long it is a distant memory?  At this rate you’ve gone on so long living with the sin and pretending it didn’t happen, that it is almost easier just to continue on this same course never really confronting this demon living inside you.  It is this demon, this sin inside, that will slowly eat you alive and rear its ugly head down the road at the most unexpected times.  The times that could be the most happy can’t be and all because it was easier to procrastinate.

Well, this was happening to me as a young girl, I was around fifteen years old.  Around that time I had a dream that woke me up and changed me.  A dream that I will never forget.

In this dream I was sitting in church with my family.  The Bishop got up to the pulpit and announced to the entire ward, “I have a letter from the First Presidency letting us know that Jesus Christ will be visiting each and every person’s home today!”  Excitement and happiness filled the chapel.  But I felt doom.  I had a pit in the bottom of my stomach because I knew I wasn’t worthy and I knew I couldn’t hide it from Christ.  I wanted more than anything to see Him and be with Him, but the shame and guilt was so overpowering I knew I could not.

That’s when I had an idea.  I would wait until after Sacrament meeting and see the Bishop right then and there.  It was a perfect plan!  When the meeting was over I went directly to his office.  But when I arrived I became worried again.  You see, I was in the back of a very, very long line of my fellow ward members who planned on doing the same thing as me.

I waited and waited for what seemed hours in that line.  My family had all left for home and I told them I would walk and meet them there.  Slowly the line dwindled until finally it was my turn.  As I walked into the Bishop’s office he was getting up from his desk and said, “Sorry, I have to run home to be with my family so I don’t miss the Savior.  You need to head home now too.”

I left the church house full of sorrow. As I walked to my house I knew I was not prepared to see our Savior.  I was hesitant but I still entered my home.  Inside it was clean but no one could be found.  I called out, “Mom? Dad? Gwendalynn? Tree? Todd? Christopher? Douglas?!”  But no one answered.  Searching from room to room I decided to go look in the back yard.

I went out to the back of the house and looked up into the beautiful blue sky.  There hanging down from the heavens were seven golden ropes.  These ropes all had all the names of my family on them.  As I looked closer I noticed that there was not a golden rope for me.  As sadness overcame me I woke up with a start.

The happy ending to this story is that I did go and see the Bishop very shortly after.  And now, even in adulthood, I often remember this dream and will think to myself how desperately I want a Golden Rope hanging from heaven linking me to the Savior.  Through prayer, faith, and repentance,  I know there is one for me.  Complete with a big sign that says my name!

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