Man leaning on knee in despair.
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Who Are We When People Hurt?

“My bubbly, extroverted children have fallen into a low-grade depression.”

“My special needs child is struggling to adjust to our new normal.
It’s emotionally exhausting for everyone.”

“My kids are having nightmares – no one is sleeping through the night.”

“My surgery keeps being bumped back because it’s seen as ‘non-essential’.”

“My job was furloughed, but I’m not sure if my company will even make it.”

“My company reduced my hours, again.
If this keeps happening, I will have no way of paying my bills.”

“My aunt died yesterday.”

“The doctor just called to tell us there is no possibility of my cousin surviving.”

These are real-life stories I’ve heard from my neighbors and loved ones over the past couple of days. Each struggle matters with each person’s story proving significant. During it all, I’ve found myself asking what I can do to help time and time again. Of course, that’s because I want to ease hurts and offer support. But, sometimes it’s just difficult to determine what to do when people hurt. 

Should I try to fix their situation? Is that even possible?

Should I advocate on their behalf? Does that mean I take sides?

Should I counsel them? Are there even words?

Perhaps I can or should do something tangible, but often I’m discovering in this ongoing turmoil that my underlying concern ought not be with what I do for them but with who I am with them.

Now, don’t get me wrong. My aim isn’t to minimize serving in tangible ways – it’s just that I recognize more clearly that any act of doing needs to flow out of a proper way of being. 

So, who should I be? Who should we be in the face of ongoing turmoil and hardship?

I think we ought to be people that 1) Reject Simplicity, 2) Love others as we love ourselves, and 3) Weep when others weep. 

Reject Simplicity

Quick fixes and surface exhortations are just a couple of ways simplicity show up in the face of suffering. Pastor Garrett Kell summarizes this thought for me in a recent tweet. He tweets, “People do not need to be entertained or encouraged that this trial will pass. They need to be enamored with Jesus and assured that He will be with them no matter how long it lasts.”

Friend, if the “hope” we spread in the face of suffering revolves around feel-good statements like, “This too shall pass” or “It will all work out,” you and I are peddling an empty hope. While the statements may or may not eventually prove true situationally, let’s be sure that we aren’t using the power of positivity as a holy smoke screen to cloak woefully simplistic thought. Moreover, let’s be sure that exhortations to “have faith” and “don’t fear” come with an in-depth look at God himself. For it’s the growing understanding of God’s character that prompts us to trust Him. 

When we choose to be people that reject simplicity, we usher in thinking that can both empathize and engage with real-life struggles. 

Love Others as We Love Ourselves

In Matthew twenty-two, both the Pharisees and the Sadducees approach Jesus separately in their attempts to entrap him by creating controversy. Neither group proved successful on either attempt. Ultimately, the Pharisees devise another plan to create controversy by asking Jesus which Old Testament law is the most important. But, instead of succumbing to controversy, Jesus redefines the OT law by summarizing it in two commandments: Love God and love others (Matthew 22:37-39). I find it remarkable the way that Jesus quiets controversy by underlining the bigger picture. 

The two greatest commandments to love God and love others remain supreme in defining our way of being. Every act of doing, then, must flow through these parameters. Interestingly, the command to love others means we can’t get away with loving only some of the others. While we may naturally resonate with certain sects of people, we must be people that love [all] of our fellow Image-Bearers. 

When we choose to be people that love others as we love ourselves, unique hardships matter on their own merit.  It’s no longer a comparison game of what’s more important, who has it worse, or who’s more essential. Rather, we show up in humility treating one another as more important than ourselves (Philippians 2:3). 

Weep When Others Weep

Paul provides a goldmine of wisdom in Romans twelve regarding how people should conduct themselves with one another (whether believer or unbeliever, friend or foe). The latter section of the passage reveals the way empathy and humility must culminate to foster harmony. Specifically, Paul directs us to be sensitive to the emotions of others. He writes, “Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep” (Romans 12:15). 

For us to rejoice or weep with others requires a heaping helping of humility. I can’t rejoice with you if I’m focused on my own happiness or lack thereof. I can’t weep with you if I care more about my own suffering. While I may have legitimate personal reasons to either weep or rejoice, your rejoicing and your weeping ought to matter more to me than my own (and vice versa). 

When we choose to be people that rejoice and weep with others properly, we’re creating a safe space where unity begins with us valuing one another.

As I reflect over those real-life stories I’ve heard, I hurt for each friend and loved-one facing heartache and uncertainty. Their frustrations are valid. Their situations matter. Their stories are significant. No, there aren’t quick-fixes or simple solutions. But, in the waiting, I hope you and I choose to come together in the way we recognize and love one another through our seasons of suffering. Moreover, I hope that anything we choose to do in response to suffering flows out of a proper way of being in line with Scripture. 

What about you? Who are you challenged to be in hardship? Are you frustrated with simplistic counsel? Are you growing in your love for others? Are you finding it easy or difficult to weep and/or rejoice with others? Something else altogether? Would love to engage with you all in the comments.