Monday, I had the pleasure of reading a few chapters of a friend's short story. It's extremely rough, since it's a first draft and he's taking ~15 credits, preparing for life changes, etc., so there wasn't a lot of refinement. Which is fine... except that I tend to forget details like that and just start ripping up stories like it's second nature. (Because it practically is.)
When I saw him Monday night, I felt extremely... nervous? Ill? I just didn't feel too great because I wasn't sure how it was all going to play out and what I would say, how I would say it, whatever. I had thought of a few things to say, and started into it when we met.
But then everything I had thought about the few chapter that I'd read came out. Which was, let me tell you, extremely unfortunate.
Looking back on it when I was walking home, I realized I had been harshly frank. I was mortified and realized the experience reminded me of when the same thing had happened to me - I didn't write after that for nearly three years. I didn't want to be responsible for that, but by the time I had gotten home my roommates distracted me enough that I didn't think about it until the next morning.
I was supposed to get up at 6:30 on Tuesday, but had forgotten to reset my alarm so didn't get up on time. I hurried through a few verses of scripture study and went on my way, the previous night's events still weighing on my mind. (That and my lesson, which didn't help that I was unprepared for it.)
When I had finished with class and whatnot by 10, I couldn't help it. I felt so ashamed and cruel, despite him asking for my honesty. I thought about all the different ways I could've handled it, deciding that all of the alternatives were kinder than what I had done. I sent him a text, telling him it was eating me and that I was sure that him telling me it was okay wouldn't make me feel better. His response was probably the most inspired thing I've heard all week.
Rach, you're trying to protect me from getting hurt like you did. Your heart is in the right place. Don't worry about it.
I read it and felt embarrassed, grinning madly as I did mostly because I felt all the guilt and fear dissipate from my body instantly. Have you ever had that feeling before? It is one of the most refreshing feelings you'll ever have. It floored me. You're such an idiot, I told myself.
This morning, when I was reading the chapters I was supposed to be reading yesterday (I didn't get through it all because I was in such a hurry), this message struck me again. I was reading Alma 61, where Pahoran is responding to a letter from Moroni. In verse 9, Pahoran mentions that Moroni's letter had reprimanded him perhaps harshly, but he didn't mind. He says:
I am not angry, but do rejoice in the greatness of your heart.
This mostly just helped me understand that my friend meant it. Frequently people will say good things about me and I'll wave it off, thinking they don't know what they're talking about. But I understood this one and am so infinitely grateful that my Heavenly Father knows what I need to hear, even if I'm too stubborn to admit it sometimes.
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