In the Quiet Heart. . .

I've had some thoughts bouncing around in my head for about a week.  They are thoughts about suffering.
I can look back on my childhood and recognize that I rarely suffered.  I had adequate food, clothing, and shelter.  I had fairly good health.  I experienced childhood and teenage maladies like the cruel peers, pressure to achieve, stomach flu, chicken pox, a broken bone, migraines, and debilitating menstrual cramps.  But, most of the time I was healthy and happy. I know I was pretty lucky. But, I still experienced trials and sorrows.

 And they were real to me.

They were just as real to me and hurt just as much as the more grownup and lasting trials I have been blessed with as an adult.  Some of my suffering I made public knowledge, like when my dad MADE me move to Russia. That was not cool!  How dare he?!  I let everyone know what an awful thing he was doing to me.  Some suffering and heartache I kept inside, but of course it affected who I became. The ones that were kept inside probably affected me the most, because they festered and grew.  They were things that I can now view as silly or irrational.  I thought I was fat.  I thought I was ugly.  Typical teenage stuff.

But, it was real to me.  And I've been thinking lately about a type of statement people sometimes make. This statement is hurtful, although it might not be meant that way. It comes in many variations, but it has the same point:

You are not suffering as much as I have suffered/suffer now.

You think that's bad?  I know somebody who. . . .

Well, at least you don't have to deal with. . . like I do.

My friend is really suffering, going through. . . . you are lucky that isn't you.

You're too young to know real suffering.

Just wait until you are older. Then you will really have problems.

"In the quiet heart is hidden, sorrow that the eye can't see.  Who am I to judge another, when I walk imperfectly. .  " Savior May I Learn to Love Thee- LDS Hymn

My grown up trials, over time, have settled that thought in my heart.  Who am I to judge?  Who am I to look at you and judge your behavior or the level of your pain, when I can't see into your heart, into your head, or into your past?  What quiet sorrows reside in your heart?  Who am I to belittle the suffering of another person?

Who am I to judge another?  Yet, sometimes I do it, in my heart, and sometimes even out loud.  Cause, dang it all, I haven't figured out perfection yet!  I'm weak.  But, I'm learning, at least, about this one thing.  My own trials have opened my eyes.  I used to look at people and think things like,"Oh, they have it so good. Look at that new car, that huge house! Her body is perfect. She can't possibly have any worries.  I've got so many more kids and mine don't behave as well as her kids. My life is harder."  Or before I had kids, "My kids will never have snot running down their faces or eat food off the floor."

It's so easy to judge what you don't understand.

And then something broke inside of me.  As I became lucky enough to have my own sorrows that the eye can't see, I realized that just about EVERYONE has them.  Is my life harder than some people's?  Probably.  Is my life easier than a lot of people?  Definitely.  Does it matter?  Is it a competition?  Does it mean God loves me more or less?  No.

I guess what I have learned is it feels a lot better to say things like:

Wow. That must be hard.

I've gone through some hard things too.  I know it's difficult.  But, I believe you can get through.

I've gone through something like that. Do you want to talk about it?

OR

I've never gone through that.  I can't imagine how hard it is.

*****
Maybe I'm off my rocker.  I don't know.  It's a distinct possibility.  And maybe I'm on to something. Maybe the world would be a better place if we would delete all sentences beginning with" You think you have it bad. . . "  and replace them with love, sympathy, empathy, compassion, tolerance, patience.  Come on people, let's just be perfect.  You go first.  :)  Oh, wait, we aren't perfect! Rats! Then I guess it would be good enough to just remember, "Who am I to judge another when I walk imperfectly?. . " and just delete the judging.