It takes
courage just to get out of bed. To leave
the house, start the car, and drive, knowing there will be people there. To bravely walk into church or into the Small
Group meeting or into that room where other believers are studying the Bible or
laughing over a cup of coffee. The
struggle is huge. Oh, how everything in life
seems to be crumbling into nothing, and it’s impossible to make sense of any of
it.
But speak
up? Let someone else know what’s really
happening behind the closed doors at home?
Why? How? The other people sit there, all perfect and
happy, apparently with no struggles of their own. How could any of them possibly understand?
In a moment
of weakness, at the risk of discovery and humiliation, there is the slightest
transparency. The tiniest hint of
honesty. A tear that sneaks out without warning. A sliver of truth that there is a battle that
rages in the heart, a battle where faith is being trampled and fear is
overwhelmingly victorious. And not just
fear. Guilt. Discouragement. Hopelessness.
Pain.
And what is
the response? How do God’s people react when
the smile is peeled back and the wounds are exposed?
Perhaps a promise
to pray. Or an offer of a book that
might be useful. A Bible verse that
might provide some encouragement. A
recommendation for a counselor or a support group or a pastor. Someone else more qualified, with more
training, with more Bible knowledge, who might be able to give advice.
Those
responses? Those are the good ones. Those come from the people who think they are
being helpful. The conversation ends,
the wounded one retreats, still hurting, still broken, still alone.
Oh, but
there are much worse reactions. No words
of encouragement or helpful suggestions.
There is only judgement.
Condemnation. Accusations. Insinuations that the current situation is a
result of foolish choices. Too bad. The problems are much too big. Too messy.
Too disruptive to the perfect lives that have been so skillfully
constructed. This? When this conversation ends, the wounded one
retreats, angry and even more confused, vowing never again to be
vulnerable. Never again to allow the wounds
to be exposed.
So what is
the right reaction? When the struggle is
evident and the pain is agonizing and the planned life unravels into broken
threads and faith is nearly depleted.
How should God’s people respond?
How can they care for the one who is hurting?
