For all...come short of the glory of God

Valentine's Day is a funny thing.

It's a day to love and be loved, but for a lot of people, it's a blinding reminder of a lack of love. An unnecessary one, really. Leading up to Valentine's Day, I was not feeling particularly sad about my current love situation. Sure, I want a husband and kids. Sure, I think about it often. That yearning comes and goes, though, and I'm usually fine. I have plenty of people in my life who fill my heart and give me purpose. Yesterday was Valentine's Day, and it was pretty low-key for me. I worked, then came home and Tessa and I ate dinner and watched a movie. I got some chocolates from one of my students and some from Tessa, and I was feeling just fine about things.

Before going to bed, though, I looked through Facebook and Instagram. Mistake. Apparently, the only thing to do on Valentine's Day is post pictures and descriptions of how great your Valentine's Day is - how much you love your spouse, what he got you, what you got him, what you did, where you went, what you ate. I felt that familiar ache creep in as I wondered why everyone else in the world gets to have a boyfriend or husband or kids or someone to love them. It's really hard to watch people enjoy what you want so badly but can't have for some reason. I know better than to compare myself to other people, but sometimes it's hard not to. Especially when they display it so blatantly. (Note to self: avoid social media on Valentine's Day next year. Rookie mistake. Except I'm not a rookie.)

As I lay in my bed fighting tears and trying to go to sleep, I thought a lot about it and reminded myself that social media is a warped view of reality. These people might have a spouse and kids but they surely are dealing with other things. Infertility, loss of loved ones, illnesses, unemployment, addiction, discrimination, marriage trouble, disabilities. The list continues. But for some reason, we only broadcast our good. I find myself especially sensitive to this, as I feel uncomfortable with sharing personal, negative things on Facebook because it feels like an attention-seeking pity party. I know that's not the case for most people, but I feel that way a lot of the time.

I think what it comes down to is the value we put on strength and pride. We don't ask for help. We don't show our weaknesses. A lot of us struggle even accepting help when it's offered. We are so sure that we can do it ourselves - that needing help somehow makes us less of a human. We are so quick to share our successes and so slow to share our failures. The thing is that our failures are exactly what make us human. Our trials are what bind us together. We all have very different experiences, but we all have trials, and we all need help. We all "come short of the glory of God" (Romans 3:23).

I'm sure I wasn't the only one hurting yesterday, and I'm sure the reasons for the pain were various. Every single person in pain, though, can receive help from the same source. Through the Atonement, Jesus Christ offers rest for the weary. He can take our burdens if that's what's best for us, or in many circumstances, He lets us keep them but makes them lighter as he bears them with us, adding His strength to our own. "He descended below all things, in that he comprehended all things" (D&C 88:6). When I turn to Him for help, I am never disappointed. I know I can trust Him, because He has come through for me in the past. In those moments when I wonder when I will have the chance to love and be loved, I'm reminded that "God so loved [me] that he gave his only begotten Son, that [if I believe] in him, [I] should not perish, but have everlasting life." That's the most important offering of love I could hope for.