I sat in my
favorite corner of our couch, knees pulled up to my chest. A few close friends
were scattered around the room, eyes soft, questions gentle. We had been at an
event together earlier that evening where words were spoken that caused a part
of my heart to fracture.
to come, to sit and listen or let silence linger. We did some of
both.
Mostly, I rambled, at least that’s how I remember it. I remember
tears and closing my eyes as I spoke sentences that embarrassed me, words that
made me feel faithless and weak. But most of all, I remember the tenderness of
the women gathered in that room, their compassionate strength that bore the
weight of my sadness and anger.
When I was in crisis, the physical
presence, help, and listening ear of others was critical. Never have I been so
aware of the beauty of the body of Christ as I have been when I was dependent
upon others to care for me, to support my family, and to pray and believe for me
when I was losing my grip on the ability to do so for myself.
When crisis
comes, many of us determine to buckle down, to believe that grit and fortitude
will be enough to weather the storm. But what this often can mean is that we
want to be strong, though Scripture tells us that God’s grace is made perfect in
our weakness. We do not want to inconvenience others, though Scripture tells us
to bear one another’s burdens. We want to think of crises as linear—as having a
beginning, middle, and end, life returning to a happy “normal” after the
fact–though Scripture tells us that we will have trouble in this world until
Christ’s return.
As Kaitlin W. says, crises “will come and that’s not an
oversight, but an essential part of the redemption story.” It feels
counter-intuitive and counter-cultural to ask for help, to assume a posture of
vulnerability and need. But when we look to Scripture and the life of Christ, we
realize that asking for help is in fact the most sensical thing we could
do.
Nadine S. writes, “Before Jesus raised Lazarus, he comforted Martha
by righting her theology. He comforted Mary by loving her emotions. Jesus
genuinely wept over the power of sin and death. Before he would raise kids from
dead, He usually talked to their parents. Beyond just fixing their situation, He
got close to their faces, and He looked into their eyes with love.” Jesus loved
with His presence, and with His practicality.
I have found that in times
of my own crises, taking just one simple step toward living in love—which
includes being loved by others—reduces my fear of the crisis. Love begets love,
and choices made in love beget choices made in love. If you are in a crisis
right now, or you love someone who is, consider these practical action steps
gathered from others who have been right where you are.
If you are in
a crisis:
Tell someone about physical and material needs that would
help—it’s okay, even good, to say, “a meal calendar would help us so much,” or,
“we need help raising money.”
Others should join you in your crisis, but
it is not necessarily their responsibility to know that you need them. If they
do, that’s amazing. But often we don’t have partners in our suffering because we
have not told anyone that we need them. Tell someone in your church family. It’s
normal to feel unheard, but it’s worth it to try anyway. God does hear you, and
by His grace, friends will too. Identify a friend or mentor whom you trust and
give her the right reason with you, to point out if a thought is
rational/reasonable. —Nadine S.
Hold on to moments when you have felt the
nearness of God, and cling to that as a reminder that He’s still near in the
unraveling moments as well. Share one of those moments with a friend who can
remind you of it. —Kendall V.
If you are walking alongside someone in
a crisis:
Encourage your friend with hope in Christ and community, not
positivity about circumstances. Remind her that God draws near to the
brokenhearted, that He loves her, that everything about Him is true even when
she can’t see it or feel it. And, as you remind her of God’s goodness with your
words, consider pairing it with one of these actions.
Text your friend
regularly with plans to help, offers to sit in sadness or silence, kind words,
and even humor when the moment is right. Do not expect a response, but do not
stop reaching out, either.
Host a community meal to raise money, suggests
Carolina C. Not only do events like these raise money, they foster emotional and
relational connection that’s desperately needed in times of
crisis.
Contact your church about a benevolence fund, or ask friends to
go in on gas cards or airfare. Many crises come with unplanned transportation
costs. Adina K. said, “my church paid for my travel home to the funeral when my
brother died (plane ticket and rental car).” This not only eased a financial
burden, but an emotional one as well.
Provide meals. Lucy C. suggests
asking “what time can I bring dinner?,” rather than, “can I bring dinner?”
because people in crisis have limited mental energy. Offer to bring a meal, and
ask if a meal calendar exists or if you could create one. If you are delivering
a meal, remind yourself that the person or family is in crisis, and they they
may not be in a place to talk or even offer thanks. Your silence, along with
your gift of food, may be the kindest way to serve.
Try as we might to
avoid them, crises will come for us in this life. We are not alone because of
the presence of God, and we are not alone because of the brothers and sisters He
has given us. May we draw near to the One Who is our shelter in the storm by
drawing near to those He loves.
[written by Abby Perry]
