Comfort

Today I figured something out.  I wish it didn't take me my whole life to realize some of these things. 
The first piece of background to my epiphany is that I was single until I was almost 26.  In normal people years, that's not a big deal.  Let me put it in terms of my identity.  As a Mormon, going to Mormon schools, hanging out with Mormon kids, this is old to be single.  And when I say single, I mean completely and utterly single.  I didn't date-- I would go on a few dates-- they were either to girls' choice dances or I might, maybe, rarely get set up on a blind date.  I had a boyfriend when I was 20 for a few months of delightful smooching; until one of my co-workers caught said boyfriend in my car delightfully smooching another girl while I was at work. 
This last week I've been thinking about how I felt during those years.  I was incredibly lonely for the next phase of my life.  I spent gallons of ink writing in my journal about my single angst.  I've been thinking about that in relation to what I thought my relationship with Christ should have been.  According to my understanding and my actual and real relationship with the Savior, it should have been enough.  I should have been so close to Him that I never felt that loneliness. 
But I did.
Though I had faith and a testimony, I didn't feel like it was ever enough.
Until this morning, I thought that it was one of those points in my existence that I would go back and change.  I would go back and be so faithful and fill my time with so many good things that I didn't have time to be lonely. 
This morning, as I looked back at my past, I finally recognized what was happening during those lonely years. 
I was turning to the Savior and my Heavenly Father because I felt pain.  I was learning empathy.
I received all of that comfort that I'd been promised but didn't see and I received it on a daily basis.  In all of those years, whether it was at college, mission, or the interim, I lived with over 60 girls.  I can count on one hand the number of those girls that were not absolutely a pleasure to be with.  Hearing roommate horror tales from others, I just thought I was lucky.  No.  I was blessed so that I would not feel the brunt of my other loneliness quite so intensely. 
Young motherhood was another time of my life where I felt some despondency.  I didn't know how to initiate friendships.  I struggled with my inadequacies as a mother.  As I would cry, locked in my bathroom so that no one would touch me, I was lonely again.
The process of moving to Washington was hard.  I had four kids, 6 and under.  Our youngest two (at the time) were 14 months apart, with Dan leaving ahead of us to start his new job, when the youngest was 2 months old.  I was trying to keep the house show room ready, to finish up all of the odd jobs that still needed to be done before selling, and maintain some sense of normalcy for little kids.  I succinctly remember laying on the floor in my bedroom and crying.
As hard as that was, the blessings of being here have outweighed those 2 months.  This town is my home.  In it I have learned to make friends that I don't have to share a room with.  I have so many boon companions here that to leave would punch a hole in my heart.  Again and again, Heavenly Father has provided me with the comfort and company of some of His finest daughters.  If any of my lovely friends has to move away, almost instantly I find another kindred spirit.  It is a blessing and it's about time that I understood it for what it is. 
To me, it brings alive the scripture "Peace I leave with you, my peace I bring unto you:  not as the world giveth, give I unto you.  Let not your heart be troubled..." John 14:27
I wanted peace and I wanted happiness instead of real life.  What I got was much better-- burdens have been lifted and while real life continues everyday, I don't have to face it alone.