When we were taking care of my mother-in-law at home, nothing quite helped like talking to others who were doing or had done the same. They knew by experience what was involved. It’s not that we wanted to gripe about our situation, but there were difficulties and pressures these friends would understand. It’s not that other friends weren’t a help, but with these we felt a freedom to talk like we didn’t always feel with others.
That’s one reason Paul says in 2 Corinthians 2:3-4, “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.” God comforts us through His Word, His Spirit, and His people.
When this passage came up in our recent ladies’ Bible study, someone pointed out that we need to feel free to be vulnerable with each other, to share when we’re struggling.
I came to that realization some years ago after I contracted transverse myelitis. We got our first computer a few weeks later, and transverse myelitis was the first thing I looked up. In that era before Facebook and message boards, I found a subscriber group of TM patients and caregivers. They were a lifeline to me as I navigated a little-known disease.
I wanted to be a good testimony there. I knew that would mean not hijacking conversations to “preach,” which would not have been well-received. But I wanted to give God the glory for the help and grace He gave and point others to Him. I thought the best way to do that was to always be cheerful and positive.
Some years later, another woman came into the group who was also a Christian. She was very transparent about her frustrations and struggles with TM. She wasn’t complaining, but she was honest. She gave God glory, and it rang true because we saw how He helped her.
I realized we’re not much help to others if we come across as always having everything all together. We’re more authentic when we share our struggles and burdens.
The Sunday after the Bible study session where we discussed these things, our care group met for lunch after the Sunday morning service. Our pastor emeritus had given an excellent message that morning about God’s grace through suffering–in his case, months in the hospital in isolation with Covid, a lung transplant, a blood clot, and more. The host of our care group asked if anyone had anything to share in connection with the message.
One woman shared how hard it was after her son committed suicide. When people asked her how she was doing, and she tried to tell them, she’d have to short-circuit what she wanted to say. She could see by their faces that they weren’t ready for what was on her heart. She pointed out that we need to allow for lament in the church such as the psalmists display. About a third of the psalms are laments, which are different from complaints. The writers conveyed a range of emotions based on their troubles. They eventually reminded themselves of God’s character and love, but they had to spend their grief and confusion first before they could receive it.
Granted, the psalmists did not have as much of the Word of God as we do now, which might have helped with some of their questions. But there are always mysteries as to why God allows certain painful things or doesn’t grant things that seem beneficial.
Paul was honest about his struggles as well:
. . . far greater labors, far more imprisonments, with countless beatings, and often near death. Five times I received at the hands of the Jews the forty lashes less one. Three times I was beaten with rods. Once I was stoned. Three times I was shipwrecked; a night and a day I was adrift at sea; on frequent journeys, in danger from rivers, danger from robbers, danger from my own people, danger from Gentiles, danger in the city, danger in the wilderness, danger at sea, danger from false brothers; in toil and hardship, through many a sleepless night, in hunger and thirst, often without food, in cold and exposure. And, apart from other things, there is the daily pressure on me of my anxiety for all the churches (2 Corinthians 11:23-38).
In Peter’s epistles, he was also quite frank about suffering believers experience.
When people are hurting, we want to fix their problems and make them better. But healing takes time. Sometimes pain drowns everything else out. We can’t help others when we apply Bible verses like band-aids over gaping wounds. There is a time to share Scripture. I’ve been greatly encouraged by a shared verse at just the right time. But first we need to listen and “weep with those who weep” (Romans 12:15). Sometimes the tender care and concern shared in the midst of someone’s pain will open their hearts to receive truth.
Someone has said that Job’s friends ministered to him much more when they sat with him in silence for a week than when they started talking.
Some years ago, in our early married life, someone at church shared a prayer request for a man who had just been diagnosed with cancer. The speaker went on to say that the wife wasn’t taking the news well.
I thought, “How does someone take that kind of news well?” Wrestling through pain, confusion, and grief doesn’t mean one doesn’t have faith. This woman needed someone to come alongside her, not judge for her initial reaction to devastating news.
There is no one formula for aiding people in their worst times. We need to ask God’s guidance for what to share when. But we need to give them space to grieve. We need to listen, empathize, support, and love without judgment and pat answers.
(I often link up with some of these bloggers.)
Stray Thoughts 
So much wisdom here. I don’t think we can begin to heal until we’ve acknowledge how badly we hurt, and we need to allow others to grieve and mourn on their way to healing as well. If we smile and say everything is fine when it’s not, or try to chuff up our friend who is going through something painful with cheery pat answers, doesn’t it minimize both the suffering and God’s healing power? God walks with us even through the valley of death, so it’s okay to acknowledge that’s where we are. For me, I need to work on the skill set of just being with someone who is hurting and not saying anything.
I think that’s true–if we just gloss over where we are hurting and paste on a smile, we’re not allowing time and space for God’s healing.
The other two posters that I’ve read this morning say, get wisdom and love each other. It seems to me that if we are doing those two things our souls might not be so full of troubles.
I like how you take a topic and just kind of think through it with words … oftentimes I find myself anticipating what you say in the next paragraph because it’s the same place my thoughts go. I agree that it can be difficult, but necessary, to sometimes just listen and sit with someone in grief. How true that Job’s friends were more effective that way than when they opened their mouths. I always need to restrain myself, when talking to someone in grief or writing a card, from making a pat statement to tie things up or “make things better.” That is best left to the Lord, and sometimes our presence and prayers are enough.
Yes, I think it’s important to be honest about our struggles, as Paul was. Judging someone for the way they are dealing with a hard situation doesn’t show much compassion. The verses in 2 Corinthians that you used is such a good reminder. The words “like minded” came to mind as I read this. Sometimes the wisest thing we can do is to simply listen.
I agree with Kym above: you’ve shared MUCH worthwhile wisdom here, Barbara. You’re right: we need to give one another grace to grieve, whatever the cause of pain might be, and hold off on the platitudes and scripture verses for awhile. May we all become better comforters!
An excellent post, Barbara! I watched that message online after the fact and was really moved at the pastor’s story.
Having dealt with death frequently – through working in Hospice and in my own life, it can be a delicate line. When my husband passed, I saw some people avoid me, because they didn’t know what to say. Really, at that time, I just needed some to listen. I didn’t need advice – just let me talk and then promise to pray for me later. In cases like losing a loved one, there is really nothing you can say to that lamenting person except the “usual” things which really aren’t helpful. Just being there and listening – that helped me. As a nurse, I sat with many a family member who had just been with their loved one as they passed and let them talk.
I also understand physical situations like yours. With fibromyalgia, when I’m having a bad flare, I’ve always struggled when someone asks -‘How are you doing?’ Do you really want to hear? Do you have an hour? LOL.
Good post!
I think the church still has a lot of work to do in our practice of receiving the pain of others in a way that nurtures and encourages. We seem to have a tendency to put a deadline on resolution as in “Aren’t you over that yet?”
There is so much useful goodness and wisdom in this post – for those who need to lament and for how to encourage/support those who are in hard challenges. Instead of telling those of us who want to “help” that we’re doing it all wrong, you tell us how to help through scripture – to sit with, to listen, to come alongside where they are in their lament – and God so wants us to lament to Him – maybe not the world, but to Him.
I think people in general are very uncomfortable with pain and sadness and all those “darker” emotions so it’s hard for us to sit in someone else’s when we don’t even want to deal with ours so often. But I do think it’s such a gift we can give to others so they know they are being seen and supported.
Just as Jesus wept at Lazarus’s tomb, even though he knew it wasn’t the end of the story, we need to weep with one another and let one another express grief when we need to. As you say, whatever our struggle, it really helps to have someone who understands and relates to what we are going through.
I really appreciated your last comment about there being no formula. But being aware and thoughtful about this season of grieving can be helpful.
You offered much wisdom in this post, Barbara. We need to remember we are all unique individuals, none of us quite the same. And we all process, navigate, and grieve differently. There is no one pat answer or formula. May God give us the compassion and grace as we come alongside of one another.
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You are so right here Barbara. I believe it’s okay to lament and give God glory in our struggles, he is so so GOOD always, And the best thing is he always ” shows up” for us no matter where we’re at. I’m getting better at being raw, vulnerable and transparent in my writing. We never know who our words touch, and that’s okay, because God does. Thank you so so much for your wise heartfelt words sweet friend.
And, thank you so much for sharing with Sweet Tea & Friend’s this month.
xo