“When with a Wounded Heart,” Liahona, June 2022, United States and Canada Section.
“When with a Wounded Heart”
How relying on the Savior can heal us from hurtful comments while we mourn.
Illustrations by Jenna McKell Thompson
After experiencing four miscarriages over the span of six years, I became familiar with an unpleasant phenomenon. Many times, others tried to offer comforting comments, but the comments stung more than they helped. An encouragement to “look on the bright side” made my sorrow feel invalidated. A suggestion to “just relax” made me feel at fault. And so on.
The comments stung when I heard them, and if I let them, I soon found them festering—stinging again and again as they echoed in my memory. I let the comments add to the weight of my burden.
But as time went on, I discovered, in the words of the hymn, where I could “turn for peace.”1 I decided, with the help of the Savior, to listen to people’s intentions instead of their words, to extend more mercy and forgiveness. While their comments stung initially, I ultimately knew that people meant well. I knew they were simply trying to “mourn with those that mourn; yea, and comfort those that stand in need of comfort” (Mosiah 18:9).
I turned to the Lord and spent time giving words to their unspoken intentions. Their intentions said:
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“I’m sad that you’re sad, and I want to make you happy.”
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“I care about you and wish I could make this go away.”
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“I want to help, but I don’t know how.”
Sometimes I would even repeat these phrases in my mind when someone shared a comment that, while given with a good intention, caused me some pain.
With that change of perspective, I found myself feeling only love for people when they attempted to comfort me. With the Savior’s help, I was able to hear their love louder than their language. He helped me filter the imperfections from their comments, leaving only their love to sink in. And I found myself even feeling happy that they had not experienced miscarriage themselves.
Listening to their intentions made me feel deeper love for others. The results felt liberating, like a secret “life hack” unknown to anyone else. At its core, listening to intentions rather than taking offense is a form of forgiveness, and it is made possible by the atoning sacrifice of Jesus Christ. I discovered that I didn’t need everyone to understand my pain perfectly in order for me to accept their love. I stopped placing unrealistic expectations on other people’s comments as the source “to make me whole.”2
Ultimately, the only person who truly has power to offer lasting peace and understand perfectly is the Savior. “Who, who can understand? He, only One.”3 The Savior offers peace “not as the world giveth” (John 14:27). His peace transcends the limits of worldly peace. When I relied on Him to understand and sought His help in extending mercy to others, only then did I feel “the quiet hand to calm my anguish.”4
The author lives in Texas.