Never Say These Things to Someone Who is Suffering!

Ed Welch taught me (and convicted me) AGAIN with his recent article over on the CCEF website:

“More Things Not to Say to Those Who are Suffering”

In it, he makes many great points, but let me just tempt you to read it all by sharing just a snippet:

Here is something that I have heard a number of times on the ‘Not Helpful’ list. I have heard it often enough that it deserves to become part of our body of pastoral wisdom: Never say ‘If you need anything, please call me.’

Those who mentioned it didn’t say that the comment was meaningless to them, though it was. They said that it was actually unhelpful. Why?

– If ‘comforters’ knew anything about real hardship, they would know that sufferers usually don’t know what they want or need.

– If ‘comforters’ knew anything about the sufferer, they would know what the sufferer wants or needs.

– If ‘comforters’ really knew the sufferer, they would know that he or she would never make the call. Never.

The comment is the equivalent of ‘ta ta, see you later,’ ‘luv ya, call me sometime,’ or some other mindless goodbye. The speaker is not giving any real thought to the comforter’s needs and circumstances, and the suffering person knows it.

Well said, Dr. Welch!

And an excellent tie back to the (brilliant!) list that PeaceGal Ruth Moran gave us in her article:

How to Help (Really Help!) When a Family is in Crisis

For our little family? As we have gone through this abject suffering? By far the most common response by people who claim to love us has been avoidance to the point of absolute silence.

• No cards, texts, calls, or visits from the people we thought would have cared about us.
• No offers of help. No meals. No babysitting or rides for the children from the people we thought were our friends.
• Nobody checks in. It’s like we were there and then poof! We ceased to exist.

 
No. It’s not pleasant … but it is so, so, beautifully good in the long run. Now we know! We know what love is and isn’t. We know who are our friends. Who has our backs. Who inconvenience themselves for us, praying for and with us. These people have reached out to us in love and have ministered with such sincerity and informed compassion that our hearts are filled to overflowing with gratitude! (Soup & Teddy Bears & Rides & Cards—grace when we cancel at the last minute; patience when another medical setback keeps me in bed for another month—Sermons & Books & Banana Bread galore! Texts to check in. Texts to share their lives with us.)

Even through our weeping, we have experienced deep joy. Rejected and forgotten by many, it’s true. Drawn closer to our Savior who knows what it’s like to be rejected and disowned by his family and closest friends. We have been gossiped about and even slandered. That’s sad, but it doesn’t define us. We don’t meditate on all of that. Nope! We meditate on God’s provision of His Son, His Word, His Body, and a small number of authentic friends — and their active, intentional love reminds us that we are not alone. We have not been forgotten. We are loved by God and by friends. Our hearts are built up, our pain decreases, and we are starting to breathe deeply again—with worship of God, laughter in sincere friendship, and excitement over where God is leading our family.

I’ll close with just one more paragraph from the Ed Welch article and then encourage you again to click on through and read it for yourself.

What does a real “comforter” do?

“First, they listen and understand the suffering person. They pick up on to-do lists that are growing and impossible. They identify tasks that are especially important. They don’t barge in and do trivial work or serve in ways that leave more disarray. For example, I could imagine that someone would look at my chaotic arrangement of books and attempt to serve me by organizing them in a way that would make a librarian proud—and I wouldn’t be able to find a book for the next year (which actually happened, but it wasn’t because I was suffering. My wife could tell you the story. A small home office renovation project that was supposed to be a surprise, and it was, but . . .).

A good friend can identify what would be truly helpful.

Next, they do it. They get the dog groomed, do the dishes, drop off a meal, cut the grass, baby sit the kids, bring a meal over and eat it together, clean the house, give a ride to small group, drop off a note of encouragement and then another and another, arrange for a haircut, and so on.

Any of these acts of love and service make life easier for the suffering person. That certainly helps. But a meal is never just a meal; maid-service is never merely maid-service. These say to the suffering person, ‘I remember you,’ ‘I think about you often,’ ‘you are not forgotten, you are on my heart,’ ‘I love you.’ That, as they say, is priceless.”

Amen & Amen! And thanks. Dr. Welch.

Your friend,
Tara B.

[A re-post from 2010]