A few people have asked me how I’m doing in this whack-a-doodle season of my life. I appreciate them checking on me, but I really hate that question.
Not because I don’t value the concern, but because I have to decide how I’m going to respond. And no option is especially great.
Option one: I throw on the mask and slip into the good Christian gal act I’ve been perfecting for years.
I stand in front of the curtain that hides all the pain, smile like I’m fine, and pretend everything is okay. I rattle off my rehearsed lines about how I know God has a plan and how it’s all for my good and His glory. I plaster on a smile, say thank you when people tell me they’re praying, and offer a polite “Amen” when someone quotes a Bible verse at me.
I walk away feeling like a liar, but at least the other person feels better knowing they did their due diligence by checking in.
Honestly, I deserve an Oscar for the performance.
Option two requires me to pull back the curtain and leave the good Christian gal mask backstage.
That option is terrifying because it means being completely vulnerable, and God only knows how the other person will handle it.
Behind that curtain is a scene that rivals the doom and gloom of the Upside Down. Darkness is everywhere, and in the middle of it all is an ash heap where I’ve been stuck for months. I keep trying to stand up and find a way out, but shame, anxiety, and fear tackle me back down like a demogorgon on steroids.
Telling most people that makes their eyes go wide. Suddenly, they remember very important things they need to do that are absolutely anywhere that isn’t near the emotional bomb site I just created.
Needless to say, I don’t often choose option two.
It feels much safer to perform my act and let people believe they’ve encouraged me with their memorized Bible verses and time-tested quips.
But recently, I stumbled upon one of those verses that smacks you straight in the face.
Proverbs 25:20 (NLT)
Singing cheerful songs to a person with a heavy heart
is like taking someone’s coat in cold weather
or pouring vinegar in a wound.
And everyone currently sitting on their personal ash heap said, “Amen.”
Don’t Be a Coat Stealer
I get it. Living out Galatians 6:2 and sharing each other’s burdens is hard.
If the burden is something we can do something about, we’re all in. We’ll donate. We’ll organize. We’ll build the meal train and fight to be the conductor.
But if there’s nothing to physically do or fix, most of us freeze like a possum caught in headlights.
We certainly don’t want to be like Job’s friends, dishing out judgment and acting holier than thou.
But Proverbs reminds us to be mindful of the tone we use with the brokenhearted.
And as someone who has been sitting with the pieces of a broken heart for a while now… plucky optimism doesn’t usually help. Please. Listen to our pal Solomon and don’t come at me with the perky quips and cheerful songs.
I know the Scriptures. I know Jesus came to free me from these chains and piece my broken heart back together. I know my God is bigger than all of this and that with Him all things are possible.
But right now, believing that feels really hard.
If someone spouts Romans 8:28 at me one more time, I really might scream.
Read the Room (Ash Heap Edition)
So how do we comfort someone sitting on their ash heap?
I don’t know if there’s a right answer. I definitely don’t think there’s one answer that works for everyone.
And while Job’s friends were kind of the worst. They started out pretty solid in the friend department.
Job 2:11 — When three of Job’s friends heard of the tragedy he had suffered, they got together and traveled from their homes to comfort and console him.
Job 2:13 — Then they sat on the ground with him for seven days and nights. No one said a word, for they saw that his suffering was too great for words.
They left their homes and showed up for their dude who was going through it. Once they got there, they accurately read the room (ash heap) and knew that the best thing they could do for Job was to simply sit with him.
For seven days and nights.
These guys sat with their friend in silence for seven days and nights. Yet we act like we’re too busy to send a text to a friend we know is going through tough times.
If the story stopped there, we’d probably label them as some top tier friends. But then they started running their mouths and it all went downhill.
The point is, we don’t need to come up with a fancy speech or an elaborate plan to distract a person from their troubles.
Just go sit on the ash heap with them.
Yes, Jesus is beside them the whole time. He always is.
But sometimes, it’s really nice to have someone there physically too.
When Words Fail, Bring Snacks
Please check in on your people who are brokenhearted.
It can be scary.
It can be awkward.
It can feel weird to just show up and sit quietly.
If you need something to shield you from the silence, bring some cookies and turn on their favorite movie.
Bearing each other’s burdens doesn’t have to be a flashy spectacle.
Sometimes it’s just showing up and sitting on the ash heap.
Chaotically Devoted 