By G.G. Vandagriff and Shannon Wilson

In the BYU Ninth Stake, President (now Appellate Court Judge) Thomas Griffith instituted a program whereby the Atonement should be taught in every lesson and talk given in each ward. (See BYU Magazine, “The Root of Christian Doctrine,” by Thomas Griffith). My husband, David, is a bishop in that stake and implemented this with full purpose of heart. The effects of this wonderful program can never be measured. As shown in my previous article, it touched my life unto the healing of my mind and body. It affected everyone in different ways.

As part of this program we were taught of the vertical and horizontal aspects of the atonement. The vertical aspect was our personal relationship with our Savior—his ability not only to redeem us from our sins, but to enable us to be strengthened in our adversities and to put off the natural man. (See Alma 7:11-12 and Mosiah 3:19). The horizontal aspect is an outgrowth of this, in that each of us will desire, once we have felt the power of this life-changing force, to share it with others, to reach out to others in acts of “pure religion” (Matt. 25:31-46. and James 1:17). This we were told, was what Christ would do Himself if He were here among us.

Many of us are troubled by the horrors we see all around us—not only in the world, but in families and in our very communities. Through the gift of the atonement, we are enabled and strengthened to hope for a better world. We can become His hands in making it a better world, as well.

One member of our ward, Shannon Wilson, now a teacher in Ft. Worth, Texas, tells in her own words the effect of her learning about the atonement had on her in an extremely difficult situation which truly brought home to her the sorrows of the world. We can learn from her true Christian goodness and what it means to be His hands. In one e-mail to us, speaking of the hopelessness around her, she said, “…and then I realized that because I was there, God was there.”

This is Shannon’s testimony:

“Four months is not a long time. About the length of a generous summer vacation. Four months have come and gone over 75 times in my life already. But from September to December of 2005, I was involved in something that has changed my life forever. Next only to my mission, it was the greatest privilege I have yet had.

In northeast Romania live a handful of children who made these 4 months so meaningful. Through BYU’s international study program, I had the opportunity to travel there and help care for some of these precious orphaned children. Needless to say, it was an intense experience packed with all sorts of mixed emotions and lessons. But what I share now reflects how that which is fundamental to our existence and progression on this earth—the atonement of Jesus Christ—became a greater reality and certainty to me during that time.

The trials and challenges that caused me to cling to the atonement were largely things I had not before experienced. Every day I spent treasured time with beautiful children whose bodies were broken, who could not communicate their needs, who had been abandoned and forgotten about, and who otherwise lay in decrepit cribs receiving no attention other than the very most fundamental—sometimes not even that. And every day I felt like I was spending time with the angels. Bittersweet does not convey it well enough. I felt then and continue to believe that these special souls are acquainted with the Lord in a dimension that is perhaps not accessible to the rest of us. Most of them suffer from severe handicaps and were “given” over to state institutions, the cause of which largely goes back to the crippling effects of an evil, communist dictator. But each one of them brought the spirit into my life in incredible abundance and forever holds a special place in my heart.

Cristi is a little boy who we found at the hospital one day. He had severe respiratory problems and his legs were twisted in a way that left him essentially paralyzed. He could not speak. He had been placed in a crib in a cockroach infested room on the 6th floor of the dilapidated children’s hospital. It was a good day if we found him in a diaper (which we regularly supplied the hospital with) as opposed to soiled rags that leaked everything. The sight alone was enough to make you cry. But despite the injustice of his circumstances, Cristi had a laugh and grin that was absolutely contagious and simultaneously healing. All it took was a gentle touch to engage him and then we were granted a few precious moments of celestial therapy that seemed to make all the pain—for him and for us—melt away.

Alex was another little boy at the hospital, 2 years old. I found him right before Halloween, hooked up to 3 archaic machines. He was on the verge of dying, with no one seeming to notice. When I sat down next to him I found him ticklish and responsive to my touch, though incapable of vocalizing anything. One evening I stayed late at the hospital to spend time with him, only to be harshly kicked out by hospital staff who insisted that visiting hours were over. Two weeks later Alex passed away. The connection I felt with him was brief but bonding. While it pained me to think of the quality of his life on this earth, it brings me great joy to realize what is in store for him. His were large brown eyes that seemed to have much going on behind them, and I am anxious to become re-acquainted with him and all of my other kids when their bodies are made perfect and there is no pain. In the meantime I like to think he is a guardian angel of sorts for me.

Conditions at the orphanage where we worked were slightly better, though no less bittersweet. Here were many affectionate children full of life and the sweetest love, but no one to share it with. Again these children had severe handicaps but truly taught me what it means to be “pure in heart.” They are Christ-like, and I have no doubt that if they haven’t already, they will “see God.”

Circumstances like these made this experience incredibly difficult. I suddenly was forced to deal with what seemed to me the most painful consequences of decades of evil, corrupt government. Seeing precious souls of children locked inside broken bodies that are essentially wasting away without any consistent source of love and attention in their lives—could there be anything more tragic?

There were brief times of despair when that answer was an undisputed no. However, the perspective of the gospel and the plan of salvation was indeed my saving grace through this experience. When I was overwhelmed with the pain around me, I was lovingly reminded that I did not need to take it on myself, because Someone else already had. Though it seemed these children had been forsaken and there was no way a fair redemption was possible, a sacred experience I had at the hospital taught me that these children are known and treasured by the God of the universe.

The same God who allowed His Son to come to earth and suffer the pains of the world—the pains of the world—to provide a way for our triumph and return. He suffered their pains, He suffered my pains, and He was and is my greatest hope. His atonement means that when all is said and done for these children, the tears will be swept away, the bodies will be made whole, and the pain and loneliness will be replaced with exaltation in God’s kingdom.

I know that these children are heirs to all that God has. They have had a unique mission on this earth, and I believe their departure from this world and reunion with Heavenly Father will be anything but sad. Though my time with them was brief, I count each one of them as a precious blessing in my life.

The 4 months I spent in Romania greatly strengthened my convictions of the power of the Atonement to sustain and give hope amidst circumstances seemingly unfair and otherwise overwhelming. The choices of others combined with circumstances beyond our control may at times seem to have crippling effects on our own capacity to experience joy. But He who created us and prepared us for this life also gave us a perfect path of hope and healing.

NEXT MONTH: An interview with Judge Griffith on the ways we can apply the atonement in our lives.