Over the last month I have found myself ministering to others in life situations that have been unfathomable and unbearable, heart wrenching and heart breaking. I have felt overwhelmed, unworthy, under qualified and so wanting but unable to “fix” these situations that have caused great sorrow. Time and time again I have asked God what he wants me to do, to say, and to be in these desperate situations. One of the many lessons that I believe that God is teaching me is the art of being present.
The Power of Presence
Dawn Ferry • December 6, 2021
As Christians, we are instructed to gain our strength, faith and resolve from the Lord himself. The word also teaches us that the Holy Spirit itself intercedes for us, even when we have no words, only groans and grunts.
Romans 8:26-27 reads “In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans. And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for God’s people in accordance with the will of God.” I can’t help but imagine that the angels who attended to Jesus when he was tempted in the desert also attend to us (Matthew 4:11), even if we are unaware of their presence.
Still, God created us as a body of Christ to care for one another. However, when a friend is facing crisis or grief, I often feel insecure. What is the “right” thing to say when no words seem appropriate? Sometimes, fearing that I might do or say something inappropriate, I do and say nothing, pulling away instead of leaning in. This might be the most hurtful of all approaches. We desperately need one another. Leading up to his death, Jesus called his closest friends to join him in the Garden of Gethsemane. They demonstrated their frailty, their humanity and fell asleep. They were not on their best friend behavior. Still, they were present, just as Job’s friends were present in their poor attempt to comfort Job in his suffering.
My dear Mom excels in this quality of presence. She and my father live in a remote development of about 100 homes outside of West Yellowstone. Most people know one another. If not, they know OF one another. Most home owners in the development leave in August, as winter sets in quickly in that part of the country. In late September, a couple of years ago, a woman on the other side of the development lost her husband. Having heard some of the unkind things this woman had said about our family, my Mom could have wished her well and kept her distance. She could have merely dropped off cookies or a lasagna. Instead, my dear Mom showed up uninvited at this woman’s quiet and grief-stricken home. She told her neighbor that she would stay until she kicked her out. She would make calls to the funeral home and the immediate family. She would cook for her neighbor and comfort the woman widowed just an hour earlier. She loved. She was present, physically and emotionally available. I am challenged and inspired by this example of carrying one another’s burdens.
This holiday season, not everyone is ok. It doesn’t matter how we look or what we post on social media, not everyone is feeling the joy that is meant to surround the holiday season. Together as brothers and sisters, let’s agree to be present for one another, even if we do so in less than perfect ways.