We’ve all suffered. We’ve all known someone else who has suffered. And we’ve all been on the giving and receiving end of unhelpful and ignorant comments as a result.
Suffering is simply a natural part of the human experience in this world. God’s Word doesn’t leave us wondering, “if”, but “when” the pain of this world will touch us. The Apostle John assures us: “I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world” (John 16:33).
We will suffer. But there is more to our suffering than meets the eye.
Even still, two truths remain: personal suffering is painful, and the suffering of others makes us uncomfortable. In that discomfort, we fumble over our words, we say the wrong thing at the wrong time, or we avoid the people who most need the comfort of others in the fear that we will only make it worse.
What’s the solution? Tip-toe around the reality that we’ve all been on both the giving and receiving end of awkward and unhelpful responses? Or do we simply acknowledge our weakness in this area and spur one another on with grace?
The truth is—we need each other. In all our fumbling stupidity at times, the body of Christ is still a gift. The Lord knew this life would be hard. Therefore, he not only has promised that his strength and presence will be equal to our need, but he gave us each other to encourage, comfort, and spur one another on in the highest of highs and the lowest of lows.
God’s Word challenges us to rejoice with those who rejoice and weep with those who weep (Romans 12:15), but in our humanity, we struggle to do both at times. More than anything, we struggle to walk alongside of our hurting brothers and sisters—sometimes blazing in with too much confidence and too many words, but most of the time, struggling to know what to do or say in the discomfort of grief. Other times, we do nothing at all.
Can we all just admit the quiet part out loud? Too often, we stink at comforting others. Why? Because we either haven’t experienced the training ground of suffering, where we learn to comfort others with the comfort we ourselves have received from God, or we let pride or fear lead our words, rather than the Spirit.
The good news is that we don’t have to. If we humbly acknowledge our need, and filter other’s words and actions through the lens of grace, we will grow to love each other better—even if we fumble our way there.
Today, as one who has walked a road of suffering for most of my life, and as one who has been both on the giving and receiving end of unhelpful responses, I’d like to offer you three practical words that have helped me along the way.
Listen
When we see someone hurting, we tend to either charge in with too many words or avoid them altogether out of fear of saying the wrong ones.
But what if we were to take the pressure off ourselves to have the right words, and approach our hurting brother or sister with the intent to listen instead? Rarely do they need our words anyway.
We best love a suffering saint by approaching with a posture of humility, and the desire to listen, rather than speak. James 1:19-20 instructs us, “My dear brothers and sisters, take note of this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry.”
When we approach others with the desire to listen and hear their heart, rather than assuming they need the perfect words, we will less likely to stick our foot in our mouth with unhelpful or untimely words.
The willingness to hear another person’s heart, as difficult and uncomfortable as it may feel at times, is the first step in loving them well in their suffering.
Learn
The reason it’s crucial to approach the hurting with a listening ear is that it enables us to learn how they are experiencing and responding to their specific suffering. Especially when someone is walking through a circumstance that seems closely related to something we’ve experienced, we can easily assume we know how they feel. If we immediately response, “Oh, I know exactly how you feel”, we have now made ourselves the center of the conversation. We no longer have a posture to listen to and learn their heart because we have already decided and declared we know the answer. Philippians 2:4 calls out this tendency in us by challenging us to “do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves.”
Even if someone is walking through something similar, they are likely not experiencing it exactly the same as we have. We all have unique personalities, ripple effects and layers, support systems, upbringings, and degree or maturity of faith. Experiencing the same type of suffering doesn’t necessarily mean we are experiencing it in the same way.
Regardless of whether we can relate to some degree, Jesus has given us an example in the Gospels of how to approach the hurting. If you read through many Gospel accounts, Jesus rarely approached the suffering (or doubting or skeptical) with immediate accusations, commands, Scripture, or even solutions (even though he knew exactly what they needed and had the power to bring it about). He often led with a question, first drawing the deep waters of their heart to the surface (see Matthew 20:29-33, Mark 9:19-25, Luke 13:10-16, Matthew 9:1-8, Matthew 15:22-28, Matthew 21:23-27, John 11:25-26, John 5:1-15).
Jesus knew what people needed the most and still asked questions, leaving us (who don’t know what people need and don’t have the answers) an example of humility and gentleness to follow. We may not know what another person needs in their season of suffering, but we can follow Jesus’s example to draw near with a posture of humility as a learner. Our primarily role as brothers and sisters-in-Christ is not “savior” or “fixer” of pain, but to be present with the willingness to hear the heart of a fellow suffering saint.
Lean In
We can all admit that suffering, especially deep and lengthy suffering, makes us squirm in our seats. It reminds us of how vulnerable we all are to the deep pain of this world. If it can happen to them, we fear it can also happen to us. Therefore, the temptation is to turn a blind eye, rush them through the unsettling discomfort of grief, or drop off a meal and never look back, assuming others will stay to pick up the pieces on the long road of grief still to come.
But God’s Word calls us to “carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ” (Galatians 6:2). By bearing the pain of another, we fulfill the command to love one another with the sacrificial love Jesus has shown to each of us.
Ask yourself: what is the greatest blessing others have given me in my time of suffering and sorrow?
For me, it’s been the gift of enduring presence, with no timetable for grief; it’s been the willingness to listen, to give space for questions and wrestling; and it’s been the blessing of a well-timed assurance of God’s nearness and promises.
Likely, there’s someone in your life who you can be a blessing to in this way, to show up with the kind of comfort you have received or desired to receive in your own time of sorrow.
Of course, we all have different capacities and ways this might look in various seasons of life, but it’s good to ask ourselves: How can I show up for this person in a way that reminds them that they aren’t alone? It doesn’t take grand gestures to remind a brother or sister that we still see their heartache. It can be a note in the mail that tells them how their endurance in faith is an encouragement to yours; it might sitting with cup of coffee and giving them the space to process what they’re walking through; it might be a text or phone call to ask them how their grief looks today; it could be a small bouquet flowers or fresh cookies dropped off on their doorstep “just because you were thinking of them”; or it could be praying for them and letting them know you did. There are countless ways to “lean in” to another person’s sorrow, simply reminding them that they aren’t alone on this difficult road—however long it may last.
Suffer Together, Be Blessed Together
Friends, we don’t have to have answers or solutions to listen, learn, and lean into each other’s seasons of sorrow. We have a Savior who already has what each of us needs and promises to give it as we look to him. In our insecurity, we can ask him for his help to guide us. In our fear of another person’s suffering, we can ask him for the courage to enter in. In our weakness, we can ask for his strength and wisdom.
We serve a God who is the “Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God. For just as we share abundantly in the sufferings of Christ, so also our comfort abounds through Christ” (2 Corinthians 1:3-5) When we enter into the sorrows of another with the humility, grace, and compassion of God, we reflect (even if imperfectly) the very heart of Jesus.
Even more, when we are willing to enter the dark night of another’s suffering, we will also be blessed to bask in the glory of God when the beams of his redeeming light break through the darkness. After all, our suffering is never just about us—it is always meant to lead those around us nearer to our suffering, redeeming Savior.
Today, let’s ask the Lord to give us the eyes to see the suffering around us, and the humility to draw near with the strength and help of Jesus to listen, learn, and lean in.
We can trust him to do the rest.
Home is around the corner,
Sarah
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