A Prayer to the Perfect Father

My son just turned five.  And, like many five-year-old boys, he is active, energetic, and has a good dose of independence.  This mixture of characteristics sometimes results in five-year-old boys testing the limits of their capabilities.  Our son has progressively become more and more daring with his activities, including jumping out of the swing from higher and higher heights, notwithstanding our warnings against doing so.  Well, this all came to a head yesterday, when we received a call from our son's teacher informing us that at recess, our son jumped out of the swing, landed on his arm funny, and was in pain.  

After finding out about this incident and once I knew that my wife was handling the situation, I decided that I would join my wife and son at the Instacare after I went to a meeting that I had scheduled.  In the middle of this meeting, I received a phone call from my wife's phone.  Considering the circumstances, I excused myself from the meeting to answer the call.  On the other end was my five-year-old, with emotion in his voice.  

"Hi, Daddy."  

"Hi, Buddy.  How are you doing?"  

With even more emotion in his voice, "It hurts, Daddy."  

Holding back emotions of my own, I did my best to comfort him.

To tell him that everything was going to be okay.

That the doctors were going to make him feel better.

That I knew he would be brave.

In that moment, I wished he didn't have to hurt.  In that moment, I wanted to be at his side and give him a (careful) hug.  But even if I left immediately from my meeting, it would take at least 40 minutes to get to him.  I wished there was some way that I could take that pain away from him.  But I also know that (hopefully) this experience and the six weeks of wearing a cast to heal his broken arm will serve the purpose of teaching our son the lesson that there are limits to his abilities, that some healthy caution is good, and that sometimes parents do know best.

As I have reflected on this experience today, I couldn't help but draw parallels between this experience and the relationship we each have with our Heavenly Father.  Sometimes, as part of this mortal learning experience that we call life, we have to go through experiences that are difficult.  Sometimes we are in pain.  Sometimes we may feel like our prayers go unanswered.  

Throughout the day today, I have been envisioning in my mind a prayer.

"Hi, Heavenly Father."

"Hi, Son.  How are you doing?"

With even more emotion in the petitioner's voice, "It hurts, Father."

And, seeing the eternal picture, our Heavenly Father knows that he can't take away all of our difficulties and learning experiences of mortality.  But, in a way infinitely better than I was able to with my son yesterday on the phone, He will comfort us when we call upon Him.

He knows that as part of this mortal experience, He can't come to us personally, but He will send the Holy Ghost to give us a big hug when we need it.

He will help us understand that everything is going to be okay.

He will sometimes send others to help us feel better.

And He helps us to be brave and soldier on through the pain.

When we turn to Him, He helps us in the best way possible for our individual circumstances and our individual needs.

He is the perfect Father.