If you and I have spent any amount of time together lately, you’ve probably caught me talking about the novel Demon Copperhead by Barbara Kingsolver. To me, it is an unforgettable story. One scene that took my breath away is between two orphan kids. They are swapping their life stories one night when we read this, “…we just lay there being sad together for a while. I’ll never forget how that felt, like not being hungry.” Isn’t that the truth?
When our kids are sad we tell them: “that which is shareable is bearable.” It is usually the sharing that counts, not the response. In the book of Job, we read about a guy who has lost everything. At one point he says to his friends, “You are miserable comforters, all of you.” — Job 16:2
I can imagine Job yelling these words, boiling over with hot angry tears of pain. That is how it feels when we attempt vulnerability and are met with advice, or disbelief, or attempts at a quick fix, or a sort of “suck it up buttercup” sentiment. Jobs’ friends get a bad rap but actually, there was a lot they did well as friends — at first. In the beginning, they were like those two orphan kids who “just lay there being sad together for awhile.” Initially, they came. They sat with Job. They didn’t rush away from his pain. They were there. But they got some things tragically wrong in the end when Job lost everything.
This story rings so true for anyone who has ever been questioned, not believed, or misunderstood in their grief. Dear friends, your grief does not need to be defended. It doesn’t need to be explained. It needs to be lived. You and I need a compassionate witness to our lives. Jesus wants to be that for us, and then He wants us to be that for each other.
May we receive from the Lord the companionship He offers. In a world that offers so much therapy, may we remember that there is nothing better than the presence of the Lord. May we be like Christ in coming alongside one another with a similar presence that is slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love.
Susie Grade 