Comfort

A while back I got a phone call from a friend of mine who had just called off her engagement. I listened to her cry and mourn the loss of the life she thought she would have. My heart went out to her. I wanted so badly to say the right thing. I said something, which, at the time, I thought was very comforting. It went something like this, "Well, at least you figured out that he wasn't the right one before you actually got married so you don't have to go through the pain of a divorce. You'll find the right guy when the time is right. You're lucky your relationship didn't end like Lacey Peterson's, right?" Ok. So the Lacy Peterson probably wasn't the most sensitive thing to say, but you catch my drift. I was trying to make her realize that her situation wasn't nearly as bad as it could have been.

Finding myself in her same situation about one year after that conversation I had several people say similar things to me. "At least you broke it off and realized you weren't right for each other before you got married unlike so and so. Her divorce is awful." "At least it didn't end badly like so and so's relationship." It was then that I realized that those words are in no way comforting. In fact, I've come to the conclusion that it is never ok to "one up" someone's pain when they are still, in fact, feeling the pain. Sure, they might later recognize the fact that you're right. They might acknowledge that things could have been worse for them. In their time of pain, though, it is certainly not necessary to point out the fact that 99.9% of the world is probably worse off than they are. I'm positive that the person who told me about their daughter's horrible marriage/divorce seconds after I told them about a recent breakup did in no way comfort me or make me feel better. In fact, it made me feel as if I didn't have a right to mourn, and that my situation was not even worth mentioning.

Recently my father had his car stolen with some very valuable (but more importantly sentimental) things inside of it. Naturally, being the protective daughter that I am, I was furious. First of all, I have never been able to understand the mentality of a person who steals something because he/she wasn't willing to work for it in the first place. This is America. Get a job, make some money, save it up, and go buy your own car. Stealing is just plain lazy. That's beside the point, though. I was angry and venting to a friend. My friend said something like "Well, at least your dad wasn't hurt. Plus, he's still well off. In fact, he's more well off than most of the world." He one-upped my...I mean my dad's...situation. And Sure. I'm all for that. It's awesome that he wasn't yanked out from the driver's seat by the villain and left to die on the side of the road while said villain drives off in my dad's car. I get that. I now recognize the fact that it could have been worse and that my family was actually very blessed. Had I been in a less aggravated mind state I'm sure it would have made perfect sense to me. But really? It can ALWAYS be worse. That doesn't make our frustrations or pains at the time any less real.

While I completely understand the fact that everything needs to be put in perspective, I also feel there is a right time to do so. It's perfectly human and normal to feel pain and frustration. We're allowed that. The most beautiful thing about that is that our Savior, himself, felt every single one of those pains. He understands those pains/frustrations we, as humans, inevitably feel. He knew we would feel that. He warned us of those pains/frustrations. What's even better is that He doesn't ever, ever, ever compare us to anyone else. It's so nice to know that when I go to my Savior for comfort He is there for me and me alone. He doesn't say things like "Well, you know, Emily, your life is not nearly as hard as the rest of the world. Suck it up." He doesn't ever actually "say" anything to me at all, actually, for those of you that were wondering. =) He allows me my time to feel the pain, and then gently nudges me to seek out and help those individuals around me whose situations are more dire than my own. I live a pretty darn good life. That doesn't absolve frustrating days, though. I think it's important to comfort others more like our Savior comforts us--without comparison to others.