Experiencing Unfairness Helped Me Better Understand the Savior
I was so focused on the unfairness in my own life that I neglected to remember the unfairness the Savior went through.
I was in so much pain. I was exhausted. And I was beyond frustrated.
I had just finished meeting with my doctor, and it was determined that I would have surgery in a few weeks. I had already gone through this procedure twice before to treat a chronic illness, but because my painful symptoms had returned, my doctor suggested it was time to attempt this surgery again to give me some relief. But that’s what the first two surgeries were supposed to do too, and obviously they hadn’t been much help. So I wasn’t very optimistic that this third procedure would make much difference.
I wept from a mixture of feelings on my way home from the doctor: bitterness, anxiety, anger, and sorrow. But above all, I was overwhelmed by the feeling that the situation was completely unfair.
Understanding Unfairness
Not only was I struggling with debilitating pain every day, but I couldn’t seem to focus on anything but the other problems in my life and in the world. My anxiety had been off the charts more often than not, the world was in the midst of a devastating pandemic, the news only reported constant violence and civil unrest, and it felt like every time I reached out to friends, they confided in me about some terrible challenge they were facing.
I had always had a testimony that trials and challenges weren’t all for nothing. I’d always known how they allowed us to choose to strengthen our faith and refined us into more Christlike people, but in that moment, I just couldn’t see the point of all the unfairness that seemed to be engulfing my entire life.
I looked for comfort from Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ and strove for understanding, but despite my consistent prayers, fasting, and scripture study, I felt like I was looking through clouded lenses that were stuck on the “Unfairness detector” setting.
I felt very disconnected from the Spirit. And nothing was helping.
In a last-ditch effort to feel something, I felt prompted to ask my husband, Jeffrey, for a priesthood blessing, hoping it could provide me with some comfort or clarity in my chronic pain. I was determined to listen to whatever guidance Heavenly Father had for me.
Ten minutes later, as Jeffrey finished the blessing, I began to sob. (But don’t worry, it was the good kind of sobbing.)
I quickly wrote down all I could remember from the blessing, and these specific words, which Jeffrey was inspired to say, struck me: “You are in your circumstances for a reason, and the Lord is aware of all you are going through. You will understand one day. It’s OK to feel sadness and grief at times, but remember that you are not alone, and that all unfair things will be made right through the Atonement of Jesus Christ.”
Those words pierced my soul. Because I had been blinded by my own self-pity and pessimism for so long, I had neglected to remember that if there was anyone who understood what it meant to experience unfairness, it was our Savior, Jesus Christ.
The words of “The Living Christ: The Testimony of the Apostles” came to my mind shortly after that blessing, where it testifies that the Savior “‘went about doing good’ (Acts 10:38), yet was despised for it.” It also says: “He was arrested and condemned on spurious charges, convicted to satisfy a mob, and sentenced to die on Calvary’s cross. He gave His life to atone for the sins of all mankind.”1
As I considered His life and pondered the reality of the unfair sacrifices He willingly made, my perspective changed. I began to look for His hand in the small details of my life again, I focused on what I could do for others, I dove into family history work and drew strength from the challenges my ancestors faced, I celebrated my pain-free days while turning to the Savior and loved ones and allowing myself to grieve on the hard days, and ultimately, I felt a sense of renewed optimism about life as I held on to hope in Christ. Eventually, I felt the warmth of the Spirit dissolve the bitterness in my heart.
The challenges we experience aren’t without purpose. And if anything, experiencing unfairness is a powerful means of helping us become more like the Savior and deepening our faith and hope in Him. I had always known this, but as I contemplated the word unfair in that blessing, the depth of His Atonement and life and how much He truly understands my specific circumstances sank in.
A Surprising Message at Conference
Fast-forward to a few months later, post-surgery: I still hadn’t forgotten that message Jeffrey had delivered to me through the power of the Spirit, so you can imagine my absolute shock when Elder Dale G. Renlund of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles spoke these words at general conference: “Jesus Christ both understands unfairness and has the power to provide a remedy. Nothing compares to the unfairness He endured.”
He explained that instead of asking how and when the unfairness will be resolved, we can focus on developing faith in Christ. The Savior can help us find peace in this world and not only restore what was lost but “use the unfairness for our benefit.”2
I have often pondered the words I received in that blessing from my husband, but that truth about unfairness—that all can be made right through Christ’s Atonement—was stamped permanently on my heart when I heard one of His Apostles testify of the same thing. I knew it wasn’t a coincidence that I experienced both of these moments. Together, they reaffirmed my trust in God and His awareness of my challenges.
We may not understand why we have to face such sorrow or why our circumstances are unjust at times, but because of our Savior, Jesus Christ, we can have hope that He will help us rise above the complex challenges of mortality, whether it be chronic illness, death, mental illness, loneliness, or anything else that is just plain unfair.
I know that not all my problems will be solved in this life, but because of Him, I can find joy, experience profound growth and refinement, and feel the Lord’s sustaining power in my circumstances.
I know that we all can.