Into Her Pain, Quietly

Muggy. Evening. Not even a slight breeze of mercy murmured. The stillness urged me: be still. Listen.

Knees kissing her chin, her eyes pleaded, "I need someone to crawl in my pit with me. Someone to help me out."

A lump in my throat responding to her grief. Press the escape hatch quick, before awkward mercy takes over. Obvious words lunged at me:

Time heals all wounds.
What doesn't kill you makes you stronger.
God's timing is perfect.
To everything there is a season.

But I wouldn't disrespect her loss with a walk-by. Wouldn't slap thoughtless words into her pit as I stepped over her pain. I try not to deal in slick grace if at all possible. You see, slick things don't stick.

A Samaritan traveling the road came on him.
When he saw the man's condition, his heart went out to him.

A word aptly withheld is often better than a word tossed care-lessly.

Comfort doesn't come in cliches. It comes in knowing we're not alone; we're cared about. It comes when the Word is coupled with deeds. "Let’s not merely say that we love each other; let us show the truth by our actions" {1 John 3:18}. Into the pit we're called. Into silence we wade.

He gave him first aid, disinfecting and bandaging his wounds.

Then he lifted him onto his donkey, led him to an inn, and made him comfortable.

The Good Samaritan did more than throw a nickel, blanket, or splash of water. He leaned down, listened to the need, loved the broken with what resources he had. He was the first in a line of others who helped the man in the pit get well. He stopped, stooped and stood next to the wounded.

That humid night with my friend, her journey of healing begun. Lowering myself into her pain, I crossed one leg over the other. In it for the long haul; in it for the long haul.

A meager offering from a willing heart: it is capable of great things. And highly esteemed by the Most High. I let my arm linger, touching hers-- a reminder life begets life. Checked her hope levels, refilling them when low or dried up. Others made their way in. Tears were dabbed, monsters fought, mercy tucked under my friend, lifted her up and out. Onward to healing.

In the morning he took out two silver coins and gave them to the innkeeper, saying,
'Take good care of him. If it costs any more, put it on my bill—I'll pay you on my way back.'

Years later, my heart cracked open, pieces clattered out fast, like marbles from a jar. Flailing about, I slipped on them and fell headlong into my pit.

Gingerly, my friend picked her way down, leaving "chin up" and "better to have loved" at the surface. Toward my pain she leaned; she sat next to me quietly for months. One temperate morning, the breeze stirred slightly. The only thing between us, two mugs of coffee.

"You'll trust Him again, you know. You'll believe once more that He's always been good; never left you. You will. Someone once told me that in my pit and she was right. Time did help heal. I believe again; I trust." Mercy nodded at her and together, they wrapped their arms on either side of me. We began our ascent out of my pain. Time to leave; time to heal.

Which of these three do you think proved to be a neighbor
to the man who fell into the robbers' hands?"

And he said, "The one who showed mercy toward him."

Then Jesus said to him, "Go and do the same."
Luke 10

Going Deeper

This summer, Melissa Taylor is leading an online study of Hidden Joy in a Dark Corner by Wendy Blight. If you're looking for a friend to help you out of the pit, this is your chance! Click here for more info and to join.

Also, we'd love you to join us in our series of leaving the hurt behind. Jump on board by clicking here!

Are there pits in which I've reclused, not allowing in truth, help or healing? What do I fear will happen if I "go there"?

Stephanie Clayton's honest post is a hand extended to help you up out of your pain. Won't you reach up, taking a step out of the pain? Click here to grasp her hand of grace...

Who in my life has God called me to get in the pit with, as a vessel of healing and hope?

I {Sam} learned much about sitting in grace through Heatherly Sylvia's wise words. Click here to sit a spell with her post, Sitting Shiva.

~~~~~~
Appreciate all your wonderful comments along this journey. I'm growing because of YOU! If you're new here, we welcome you.

xoxo, Sam