Even Though It's Tomorrow Already

As far as I'm concerned, if I haven't gone to sleep yet, the day hasn't changed. So although this post will publish saying that it is Sunday, it's still Saturday in my head. And I will write accordingly.

I intended to start a 30-day blogging challenge today (meaning Saturday the 19th). In fact, I had already started the post, which I will finish and publish tomorrow (meaning Sunday the 10th). I can't bring myself to write it today. The prompt involves a description of how your day went. Which is what I'm going to ramble about in this post anyway, but it just feels wrong to include it in the 30-day challenge.

I thought I knew exactly how my day was going to go. I was going to end up writing a pretty boring post about how I spent the morning having fun at the pool with my family, and the afternoon being amused and occasionally mildly annoyed with the customers at work.

Both of those things did actually happen. But I spent the rest of the day with a grieving friend.

Being with someone dealing with a debilitating loss generally leaves me feeling totally inadequate. There's really nothing you can say to make anything better. Although I think it's better to hear the truth - that it's not going to stop hurting, but you're strong enough to push through the pain - than to be told that it's going to get better.

Because it's not going to get better. I don't think the pain from a loss like that ever goes away. If anything, you get used to it. It becomes so much a part of you that you hardly notice it anymore, until something brings it back to the surface and it hurts just as badly as it did the day you lost them.

The amount of times I heard "Jesus will take the pain away" today frustrated me. I believe in the power of the Atonement. I believe that all things will be made right in the end - so I suppose saying that Jesus will take the pain away is a very accurate statement. But I don't think he's going to take it away in this life. Leaning on Him with bring peace, but the kind of peace that comes from knowing that God has a plan, not the kind of peace that comes from the absence of pain. So stop telling her that Jesus is going to take the pain away. Tell her that Jesus will make the burden light.