Kicking People When They're Down, or Going Rogue on Someone's Pain

My friend and I have been throwing around the idea of writing a book about what not to say or do to people who are going through a time of crisis in their lives. While thankfully my life is relatively pain-free right now, I spent a lot of time in the nineties grieving the illnesses and deaths of my twenty-year-old sister and my thirty-five-year-old husband, so I know a little about pain and suffering. My friend has been having an extremely difficult year (an understatement) and is (unfortunately) an expert in suffering as well. I have to credit her with the subtitle for this post.

As old as history itself is the reality that we aren't always very good comforters in the body of Christ. Job's friends set a bad precedent, and we often follow their poor example--if we make any attempt at all to provide relief and comfort. Sometimes we hold back because we don't know what to say, so we don't do or say anything at all. Other times we spew cliches like "at least you have your health," "God is working this for good," or "God won't give you more than you can bear," thinking that we can somehow neutralize the bitter pill of God's providence with a syrupy sweet sentiment.

If we Christians are soldiers in a battle, why do we tend to shoot our wounded by spraying them with Hallmark-sentiment BBs? If we were in a literal battle and our comrade was gushing blood, we wouldn't try to help him by giving him jelly beans. And we would never commit the worst offense imaginable but one that happens often: abandonment. We add insult to injury, delaying recovery for the sufferer.

It is difficult to know what to say when someone tells us about a crisis he or she is experiencing. What we'd like to do for our friends or loved ones is take away the problem, but that's usually impossible. The best we can hope to accomplish is to provide some relief, but that's an important accomplishment--one that is our duty toward our brothers and sisters.

So what can we say? Unless someone comes to me asking for advice, wanting to talk through a situation, I restrict myself to the following, depending on the circumstances:

*I/We love you.
*I'm/We're praying for you (if I really am).
*Can I help you by? . . .

That last one is the key, I think. James tells us to show our faith by our works, and so if we truly see someone with a need, we'll do something about it. And because so many people are going through difficult times right now, I mean to share in future posts suggestions about what I've learned from my own experiences about what helps and what hurts.

I was thinking a few days ago about the things we say to people, and one of the favorite verses to quote is Romans 8:28, truly a beautiful promise that God will work all things for good for those He loves. I used to dread hearing this verse, even though I knew it was true. Those of us in the body of Christ are one, and we tend to forget (because we're not directly affected) that that person's job loss, the death of that person's spouse, her cancer diagnosis, their rebellious child--all of these are our sorrows too.

Is it possible that God is not just using that pain for the good of the one most directly affected but for my good as well? How can something that isn't happening directly to me work for my good? The Holy Spirit's work is often a mystery to us, but what I do know is that another's pain gives me the opportunity to show love, compassion, to be hospitable, to be a servant, to offer tangible gifts--all working for my good as I'm conformed to the image of Christ.

 We need to work on being better comforters.