When Will the Stone Roll Away for Me? Finding Our Easter Morning

There are days when the weight of the world—or perhaps just the weight of our own expectations—feels like it’s pressing down, leaving us feeling almost entombed by our circumstances. Maybe you’re in the thick of a challenging calling, or perhaps you’re just wrestling with the quiet, persistent questions of discipleship. We look at the grand narrative of the Atonement, the ultimate victory, and we can’t help but ask: *When will the stone roll away for me?*

It’s a question that echoes through the ages, one that touches every heart striving to follow the Savior. It reminds me of the spirit of the BYU Easter Conference, a time dedicated to wrestling with these profound mysteries. It’s a reminder that the journey to understanding the fullness of the gospel isn't always a straight path; sometimes, it’s a dawn breaking after the deepest night.

When we look at the story of Mary Magdalene, we see the perfect encapsulation of this feeling. She was there, at the tomb, when everything felt dark, when the mystery was profound, and when the immediate answers were nowhere to be found. She was weeping, overwhelmed by what she couldn't yet process. She was waiting for the breakthrough.

But the breakthrough didn't come from the angels, or even from Peter and John who returned to their own homes, bewildered. It came when she heard a voice. A voice that spoke her name. *“Mary.”*

Friends, this is the lesson for us as we strive to be better disciples, as we prepare for our own missionary discussions, or as we simply try to live the gospel day-to-day. We can be exhausted, we can be grieving the distance between our current reality and the perfect peace of the restored gospel. We can be looking at the empty tomb of our own limitations.

The key, it seems, is not to *see* the deliverance, but to *hear* the voice. To be called by name. To be recognized by the Master.

This echoes the beautiful scope of the Atonement—it stretches from Adam and Eve kneeling at the first altar, right through our own personal moments of return to our Heavenly Parents. It means that our individual journey, our quiet moments of seeking, are intrinsically linked to the grand plan of redemption.

If you feel like you are standing at your own tomb right now—overwhelmed, questioning, and waiting for the breakthrough—I invite you to remember that the Savior knows your name. He speaks to you when you are ready to hear Him. He calls you to action, not just to despair.

The Power of the Call: From Wonder to Action

Mary’s response to hearing His voice was immediate and transformative. She didn't argue with the angels; she didn't remain weeping. She simply heard Him, and she went and did what he asked her to do: she ran to tell the brethren. Her grief was replaced by divine purpose.

This is what I pray for all of us in our efforts to be Internet missionaries. Sometimes the work feels too big, too vast, too overwhelming. We can feel like we are weeping at the tomb of our own understanding. But remember that the Spirit will guide us to the next step, to the person who needs to hear the message, to the scripture that needs highlighting, or to the simple act of inviting a friend to a Book Club.

If you are feeling spiritually dry, I highly recommend diving back into the teachings on the Atonement. If you haven't already, check out the wonderful resources available through LivingBook. It’s a powerful tool for deepening our study, especially through the Social Scripture Study layer.

If you're feeling the pull to deepen your understanding of these eternal principles, I encourage you to join a HolyPlaces group for a Bible Study. Or, if you want to tackle some challenging doctrinal questions head-on, remember that Davee is here! You can practice with him in his AI Investigator role—it’s invaluable preparation for those tough missionary discussions.

Let’s keep our eyes lifted, knowing that the victory over death was claimed, and that the possibility of our becoming one with God is affirmed, moment by intimate, guided moment. We are disciples, wherever we are, and we are always on the path toward that Easter morning.