I thought I would share the article that I submitted to the Ensign. It was rejected, but this was the letter I received:

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Dear Author:

            Thank you very much for sending us your submission. It is a pleasure to see new material. Every piece received is individually reviewed by the editorial staff.

            Unfortunately, we will not be able to publish your work. Because of limited magazine space and the increasing number of such submissions as the Church grows, the Church magazines are able to publish only a very small percentage of the many good items received. We regret that the time it takes to process hundreds of incoming submissions does not allow us to make comments about each one individually.

            Please accept our thanks for the time and effort put into your work. We know that submissions like yours are goodwill offerings in support of the Church. We hope the work that has gone into this one will be a benefit to you and your family.

                                                            Sincerely,

                                                            Ensign Editorial Staff

Dear Sister Weinkauf,

Just an added note to our usual letter: Your beautiful and most precious vision is just too sacred to be shared with the world. We want to assure you that we cannot publish your story for this reason only. However, we thank you for the privilege of being able to read it and hope it is included in your personal journal.

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The Vision

The beautiful warm spring evening should have held all the possibilities the season brings, but, instead, I felt truly overwhelmed by life. I had always struggled with clinical depression, but some days seemed worse than others and the pain always seemed to deepen when the sun disappeared. Everything, and nothing, was wrong. Many small problems had all amassed to become a mountain of anxiety. Then I discovered that the old refrigerator in my basement apartment had quit working. It seemed like the last straw. I put on my shoes, left my apartment and began walking toward the apartment complex down the street where many of the people in my singles ward lived. The name of my friend Dale entered my mind. It occurred to me I should ask him for a priesthood blessing. Immediately, I thought of all the reasons I shouldn't go to his apartment. It was nearly 10:00. What if he had a date there? What would I say? But the desire for a blessing was stronger than my doubts.

He answered the door with his usual smile, surprised to see me so late on a weeknight, but his kindness emerged as he asked what he could do for me. He could tell I'd been crying. I spoke with him for a few minutes about how I felt and he revealed to me his mother also dealt with depression in her life. I asked Dale if he would give me a priesthood blessing. As he laid his hands upon my head, he began to quote scripture. The rebellious nature in me thought, “He's doing this because he doesn't know what to say to me.” But the following scripture slowly melted my rigid heart:

...Mary stood without at the sepulchre weeping: and as she wept, she stooped down, and looked into the sepulchre, And seeth two angels in white sitting, the one at the head, and the other at the feet, where the body of Jesus had lain. And they said unto her, Woman, why weepest thou? She saith unto them, Because they have taken away my Lord, and I know not where they have laid him. And when she had thus said, she turned herself back, and saw Jesus standing, and knew not that it was Jesus. Jesus saith unto her, Woman, why weepest thou? whom seekest thou? She, supposing him to be the gardener, saith unto him, Sir, if thou have borne him hence, tell me where thou hast laid him, and I will take him away. Jesus saith unto her, Mary. She turned herself, and saith unto him, Rabboni; which is to say, Master. (John 20:11-16)

  I felt myself transported to that early morning garden, instantly aware of the chirping birds, the buzzing bees and the fragrant smell of the flowers and other plants surrounding me. I felt the warmth of the sun creeping through the leaves of the trees, warming my dark hair as I felt the dry earth beneath my feet. I raised my bowed head to see the radiant face of my Savior. I straightaway wrapped my arms around Him, resting my face on His chest, sensing the coarse fabric of His robe becoming damp with my tears. I felt the calmness, the total refuge and the pure love of Christ for which I had been longing.

Too soon I was pulled back into Dale's living room as he closed the blessing. However, the spirit of the vision lingered, leaving me with an unmistakable feeling of comfort. I wasn't able to convey my intense feeling to Dale just then, but left him with the promise that I would speak with him the next day.

As I made my way home through the darkness, I couldn't help but continue to feel the warm embrace of my Savior. I no longer felt overwhelmed, but felt a deep assurance that, with the Savior's support, my problems would find resolution.

More than 20 years have come and gone since that choice experience. Since then, life has handed me even more difficult challenges and sorrows. But when I approach Him in prayer, the unfolding of my Savior's love and assistance has helped me not only cope with but triumph over more obstacles than I ever thought was possible. I've become aware that the Savior's understanding of my heart far surpasses my own. He doesn't see my inadequacies through the magnifying glass of clinical depression, nor does He compare my accomplishments, or lack thereof, with those of others. Jesus Christ shows me, through the Holy Ghost, that I am the unique, capable woman I have always been, His sister and His friend whom He redeemed through great agony that ancient night in another garden known as Gethsemane.

  * Art by Greg Olsen and Heinrich Hofman