This week I was in NASCAR country -- North Carolina. Next to the hotel where we stayed is a place called Raceworld USA, the headquarters of NASCAR driver, Michael Waltrip. In this huge building, 250 employees build race cars for him and the other drivers on his racing team -- from the ground up. From an elevated walkway we were able to watch as cars were being assembled, prepped, tested, painted, fitted with decals of the various sponsors, and ultimately loaded onto huge trucks ("haulers") that would deliver them to an upcoming race. On average, eight cars go out from that facility every week.
In one of the work areas was a very unique machine, sort of like an x-ray machine. Individual pieces from the engine, transmission, or other key areas of the vehicle are placed inside, and the machine looks for flaws or cracks. Even flaws too small for the naked eye to detect glow bright green during this process, and the part can be replaced with a perfect one, thus preventing a defective component from being installed in a car that will be going over 200 mph.
Humans have flaws. Some are obvious, while many are unseen, known only to ourselves. Without the knowledge of the gospel -- and that special component called repentance -- it would be easy to look upon all of our defects and, sooner or later, lose hope of ever reaching our celestial goal. But unlike the defective car parts that, when found, are tossed aside and replaced by perfect parts without flaws, we can be made whole -- healed through the Savior's redeeming power -- no matter how flawed we think we are.
A perfect example of this is found in 3 Nephi 17. There we learn that the resurrected Lord allowed time for the people to gather all their lame, deaf, dumb, blind, and all those with any other afflictions. He healed them all. He didn't just put on a demonstration of His power and then say, "Wow, look at the time! I really have to be going back to the Father!" No -- he stayed as long as it was necessary -- to heal every one.
When we find ourselves dwelling on our flaws and wondering if we can ever be put right again, we must remember that the Savior is conscious of us and willing to heal us. If you have a hard time accepting this, consider the following true story, told by Elder Merrill J. Bateman at the 1998 BYU Women's Conference:
May I depart from my text and share with you my favorite story regarding the healing from within. It has to do with a beautiful young family that lives not far from here. They have six children. Three of the children have a very serious disease called glutaric acidemia. It's caused by an enzyme -- that when there is a dehydration of the body at a very young age, normally as a little baby, the enzyme is released and attacks the brain and causes paralysis.
The name of the family is Erickson. Sister Erickson and others in telling the story indicate that when the third little child, Cindy, at six months of age, over a short period of time began to lose the ability to control her muscles. They wondered what was happening and went to the doctor. The doctor didn't know. They diagnosed it two or three different ways, none of which was right.
The problem was that the enzyme triggered signals in the brain that released acid in the muscles, like you create when you run in a marathon. But the brain never sent the signal to counteract the acid and to return the muscles to normal. Consequently, the little baby constantly had acid in its muscles, causing it to distort and constrict. The mother indicates that it took seven hours to feed the baby because of the constrictions in the neck.
And the baby always cried. At night, the mother would take it to the far reaches of the house to help the other members of the family get some sleep. There she would rock the baby in a cradle while she lay on a cot. She said, "I thought every human being needed a few hours of sleep. I learned that you can get by on 45 minutes in 24 hours."
Cindy was a challenge . . . She was the third child. They then had another little girl. She was fine. Then another girl was born -- Heather. At about six or seven months of age it became apparent, as Heather's head was being pulled to the side, that she, too, had the disease.
They now had five girls. Brother Erickson wanted a son. They tried again, and little Mark was born. At six or seven months of age they put him in one of those swings that a baby jumps in in a doorway. He was jumping up and down, and then one day the mother noticed that his little head was pulling to the side, and the spring in his little legs was going.
Heather and Cindy never could walk or talk. Mark was a little better off -- he can talk haltingly -- but never could walk.When Heather was about seven or eight years of age, they had known for some time how quick and apt she was in her understanding. Although the only way she could communicate was with her eyes and with her smile, when they asked her questions she had answers (a smile meant "yes" -- blinking her eyes meant "no").
She was so apt that they put her in a school to see if there was any chance that she could learn to speak. Her school teacher was a Primary teacher on Sunday. One day Heather was wheeled into the classroom, and the teacher was singing Primary songs from the day before. Heather's little face lit up like a light. The teacher could tell that she loved the Primary song.
"Heather, do you love Primary songs?"
(Smile)
"Heather, do you have a favorite primary song?"
(Smile)
But now the teacher has a problem: What's Heather's favorite Primary song? The teacher decided she would sing the Primary songs she knew and see if she could find Heather's favorite song. For almost the rest of the time they were together, she sang, but they couldn't find her song.
At the end of the day the teacher said to Heather, "Tomorrow I will bring the Primary songbooks that I have, and we'll find your song."
Heather came the next day, expectantly, and the teacher brought the books. They started with the first one -- they went through all her books -- but they did not find the song. After every song there was a blink of the eyes, meaning "no."
The teacher didn't know what to do. She finally said to Heather, "I'll call your Mother. We'll see if she can help you find the song, and you can bring it the next time." Heather went home, but for some reason, contact was not made.
The next day when Heather was leaving for school, she didn't have her song. She was anxious. Her mother could tell she wanted something. As they were wheeling her through the front room, on the way to the little bus, Heather kept turning her head towards the bookcase.
Her mother said, "Do you want a book?" Heather smiled and looked toward the bookcase. Her mother tried to gaze where she was looking.
"Do you want the Bible?"
(Blink)
"Do you want the green hymnal?"
(Smile)
So her mother took the green hymnal, put it by Heather's side, and off to school she went. She arrived at school -- the teacher saw the book. She knew that she hadn't been able to reach the mother. She thought, "Maybe there's a marker." She pulled out the book, but there was no marker. So they started with Hymn #1.
They went through the first 100 hymns, and after every hymn the answer was "no." 200 hymns -- 200 "no's." And then they came to Hymn #227 in the green hymnal: "There Is Sunshine in My Soul Today." The teacher began singing the first stanza, and little Heather's face just lit up. After three days of searching they'd found her hymn.
The teacher sang the second stanza and the chorus, and stopped. Heather was unhappy.
"Heather, do you want me to sing another verse?"
(Smile)
Listen to the words:
"There is music in my soul today,
A carol to my King.
And Jesus, listening, can hear
The songs I cannot sing."
"Heather, do you sing songs to Jesus?"
(Smile)
"Heather, does Jesus hear you?"
(Smile)
"Heather, does Jesus tell you that He loves you?"
(Smile)
And then the teacher says that the Holy Spirit whispered to her the following question: "Heather, does Jesus tell you to be patient -- that He has great things in store for you?"
(Smile)
Heather died a year or two later. At the time of her death, her little brother, Mark, who was in the same condition, who could speak haltingly -- as they began to discuss the funeral -- suddenly blurted out, "No go Heather's funeral!" Heather was his best friend, and he didn't understand death. The parents tried to help him understand that it would be a way of showing his love for his sister. "No go Heather's funeral!" He maintained that position for the next two days.
On the day of the funeral the father went down to get Mark and get him dressed. As he entered Mark's room, there was Mark, sitting up in bed. And with a smile on his face, he said, "Dad, go Heather's funeral!"
Dad said, "Mark, you've changed your mind!"
"Dad, go Heather's funeral!"
"Mark, what happened?"
"Dad, had dream."
"What did you dream about, Mark?"
"Dad, dreamed about Heather."
"What was Heather doing, Mark?"
"Dad, Heather running and jumping and singing 'There Is Sunshine in My Soul Today.' Dad, go Heather's funeral."
I ask you, would the God of this earth -- who felt the pains and the sufferings of these two little children in the Garden and on the cross -- if the little girl who couldn't speak but wanted to sing songs to Him -- would He listen? Would He tell her He loves her? Would He tell her to be patient? And a little boy who didn't understand death -- would He give him a dream?
Jesus experienced our pains, sufferings, temptations, sins, sicknesses, and infirmities.
He knows us personally. He can heal us.
