A couple nights ago, Jenni was showing me a blog that’s kept by a mother who had a very recent miscarriage. Reading a little of that made me think a little about our own situation. We’ve never had a miscarriage. We’ve never lost a child. We’ve never had any close calls in that regard, and we’ve never had any major health issues with our kids. It’s a little odd, really.
We’re so blessed, and I’m so grateful for what the Lord has done for us, and I wouldn’t want it any other way. But it does feel a little hollow to read others experiences, or hear them talk about their own losses – and sometimes they are serious, serious losses. How do we comfort someone who can’t have children? How can we offer real understanding to someone who lost a close family member, or has a never-ending flow of surgeries and medical bills?
And what do they think of us? Are they offended if we try to offer assistance? Are they subconsciously bitter for not having what we have been so bounteously blessed with?
I suppose a few might be, but I doubt most of them are so offended. But it does leave me thinking. I have never been one to say, “Seeing their circumstances makes me count my blessings for not being in that situation.” Something has always bothered me about that, and until recently, I haven’t been able to put my finger on what exactly it is.
I was listening to an interview with a guy named Nick Vujicic, who was born without arms or legs. Talk about a challenge! He says that sometimes people come up to him after a speech (he’s a motivational speaker), and say things like, “After seeing what you are going through, I’ll NEVER complain again.” That bothers him a little. Of course they’ll complain again. They will suffer in other ways. He says, “There is no hope in comparing suffering, but there is hope in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ.”
He’s right. I can’t pretend to understand the difficulty that a parent goes through who loses a child, or of someone who gets a divorce, or someone who suffers from depression, because I’ve never experienced any of those things. I can’t even say that I’ve had my own suffering that measures up to what they’re going through, because whether that’s true or not is totally irrelevant. Jesus Christ DOES know. Jesus Christ knows how to comfort them – and me. He is the source of all hope. Though I may not have the answers to give, or the true empathy they need, I know who does, and whatever I can do to help them recognize His role in their lives, will do more than anything else I can do.
Helping people come to Christ does more to help those who are suffering than even removing from their lives the cause of suffering. Does that make sense? Let me say that again, because I think it’s the key to the whole matter: if I can do something to help you turn to the Lord, it will do more for you than if I can remove the cause of your suffering.
And if you are one of those people who have so deeply suffered, then you are doubly equipped to help those around you. You can help with the suffering AND help them turn to the Savior.
If you are experiencing more than you can handle, whatever it is, the Lord is ready and willing to help. Start by just asking God for His help. Humbly go to Him and tell Him everything you are feeling. And then listen. He’s real, and He will answer you. I promise you, PROMISE you, He’s real. God lives, and wants to hear from you. He wants to help you. He wants to Heal you.