I grew up healthy from a young age. Perhaps because of that, whenever I heard that someone was absent from school or missed work because they were sick, I simply thought they were making excuses.
But one day, I suddenly began experiencing abdominal pain. Whenever I focused intensely on something or felt stressed, the pain would inevitably start. Although it was uncomfortable while working, it was bearable, so I didn’t think much of it.
One day, however, I was struck by severe abdominal pain. I couldn’t sit, stand, or even lie down. I couldn’t eat, and even the medicine I forced down came right back up. There was nothing I could do but endure the pain.
At that moment, a memory of my father crossed my mind. My father, who had stomach issues, often suffered from gastric spasms. One night, while I was staying up late working on a school assignment, my father suddenly rushed to the bathroom in the middle of the night. I knew immediately that he was having another stomach spasm. I could have gotten up to check on him, but I was too focused on finishing my assignment.
The next day, my father expressed his hurt feelings:
“Daughter, if your dad is sick, shouldn’t you come and check on him?”
Only then did I realize my mistake, but I didn’t properly apologize and just awkwardly ended the conversation.
After experiencing pain myself, I finally felt that I could understand my dad’s suffering. I was ashamed of myself for having ignored his pain all this time. I felt sorry toward my father, whose heart must have ached even more because of a daughter who never offered a single word of warmth.
I also could not hide my sorrow toward our Heavenly Father. Our Heavenly Father walked the painful path of the gospel for thirty-seven years with the sole purpose of saving His children. Even though I claimed to understand His suffering, I failed to properly express my gratitude. Now, as I reflect on the sacrifice of our Father, who endured everything silently out of love even when His children did not recognize Him, I offer my heartfelt thanks.