Sometimes I don't want to be an adult. I want to throw a tantrum when someone hurts my feelings, or tell them exactly how immature they are and how much it hurts me. Sometimes I want to be like Job's friends, and assume that bad things happen to bad people, and wish bad things on those that hurt me. Sometimes I want to sit in a corner and rock myself to sleep, keeping an eye out for anyone who might hurt me, and going deeper into the corner if a threat comes near. Sometimes I want to just cry, letting the feelings of hurt wash over me in waves, wishing that the crying would make them go away.
If I was four I might be able to get away with the tantrum, and the yelling, and the rocking. If I didn't believe in the gospel, I might give into the temptation to curse those who hurt me. I might even find a voodoo doll to stick pins in. If I believed that crying would fix the diseases that can come from deep emotional wounds, I might try it for an hour or so. However, I am an adult, and I know that crying just brings puffy eyes, and while it may cleanse the wound some, it doesn't fix the infection that only the Great Physician can heal.
And so, instead of doing any of those things, I say my prayers, read my scriptures, contemplate the changes I can personally make, and try to let the rest go. As I read I learn that the scriptures bring the directions for how to lance the boil of hurt feelings, turning them over to the Savior. My prayers bring the healing salve of the Spirit, reminding me that only in letting my own wounds heal, can I hope to have the wounds that I have inflicted on others be healed for them. As I think about what I can do, I am reminded that I am asked to turn the other cheek by my Savior, but I am not asked to invite another slap. Instead I am expected to set healthy boundaries, showing my children how to be both Christlike and self reliant.
So, this is my prayer for tonight. Father, let me be as forgiving and my temper as short-lived as a child. Let me be as patient as Job, and never doubt that the Lord loves me, even when those around me treat me as less than human. Let me give away the pride and selfishness that are a part of mortality, and instead recognize that I am a spiritual daughter of God, having a tough physical experience here on earth. And Father, help me to want to be an adult, even when it is hard, even when those around me seem to resemble four year-olds some of the time. Father, help me to be more like my Savior.