Sometimes, I am overcome with the immensity of the world around me, and depth that I cannot even begin to fathom. I am so complex. Me. That simple word carries with it so much meaning, for me. Meaning for me that is different for others, for people do not view me in the same way I view myself. Perception.
It can be overwhelming to think about the complexity and depth in my life. What experiences have shaped me, what trials have refined me, what people have influenced me. Who I have loved and who has loved me. I am a book that never ends, but continues on and on at a consistent rate. I am not capable of writing this book, because even I do not understand myself. And then there is the complexity of my existence before I came to Earth, something I will not fully grasp for some time.
I heard a girl describe it as a movie. Almost every human being I interact with is just an extra in this movie of my life. But then, everyone has a movie of their life. All those extras are the leads in their movie called Life. And to them, I am nothing more than an extra. So quickly I try to understand the depth behind each person I see, the complexity behind their life. I fail, of course, because I am human. I cannot understand. My mind is soon overflowing with ideas of Marriott Centers full of extras and 7 billion movies being made right now. Some are just beginning, some have reached the calming resolution, the falling action. But no matter what point of the movie we are at right now, it's going. And it's not going to stop.
Despite the vast number of people on this planet, the vast number of movies being made, I am loved. I am known. Me, a complicated girl who doesn't even understand her own feelings well enough to write a book. I have a Heavenly Father who loves me and knows me right down to the white birthmark by my collarbone. And he knows you too. Do you hear me?
He knows you.
I promise you that. Out of 7 billion people living their lives and starring in their movie, he knows and loves you. He is constantly watching your movie, rooting for you all the way.
It saddens me to see people who don't understand this. People who lose hope because of loneliness, who forget their potential, who doubt the loving God who created them. I yearn to reach out to these people and show them how happy they can be, to explain to them the incredible exalted state they can eventually obtain. I hurt for them when this is not understood.
It is easy to blame God when things go wrong. So simple to turn tearfully away from him, saying, "How could you do this to me? I thought you were good. I thought you were loving. I thought you cared about me. I can't understand why you would ever let this happen."
What needs to be understood is that God does not forces these cruelties upon us. These trials help us, it's true. But the mentality that God is taking each one and putting it before us needs to be put aside.
We live in a fallen world. Things will be hard no matter how good we try to be. In fact, it seems the better we try to be, the harder things will turn out. The wicked and the hardships and the temptations will hit us hard, they will try to pull us down and lead us away from true happiness. Let us not forget that God has provided a way out for us. The way is his son, Jesus Christ. The means are his eternal and infinite atonement. An atonement that makes it possible to be understood.
People complain that no one understands them, and for the most part that is true. We've all been in a situation where we attempt to describe a hardship to a friend, only to have the response be, "I know how you feel," while they proceed to tell you about some trial they themselves have faced, oftentimes one that seems completely different from the one you are trying to cope with. We have all had times where we wanted nothing more than to interrupt them and say, "No. That is not how I feel. That is not the same situation." Of course, we've been on the other side of that, too. It's natural for us to try to find a relating emotion with offering consolation to a friend.
These comparisons can be so similar they almost seem identical, but they never truly are, due to the people they involve. The depths and complexities of me and my friends will never be exactly the same. So the only person we can truly turn to is Christ. He alone has known exactly what it felt like for you to have that loss, to experience that broken heart.
He won't mistake you for someone else, he won't make a completely unrelated analogy, and he won't ever forget you. He will give you a warm embrace and whisper, "I know." And then He will weep with you.
He is there, and He always will be.
He is not going anywhere.
