Loving Those Who Hurt

10 Ways Not To Help A Hurting Friend, a post by Dave Furman, author of Being There: How to Love Those Who Are Hurting. (via Crossway Books)

You may think you have the right approach and goal in caring for your friend going through depression, your sick elderly mother, a couple struggling through a miscarriage, or a friend grieving the loss of a career, but it doesn’t matter how sincere you are if you're way off target. I have had conversations with many individuals who had good intentions, but at the end of the day they only exacerbated my hurt. And sometimes I thought I was doing good for someone else when I was actually causing more pain. In our sincerity we can still be wrong! We need God’s help to care for our friends who are distressed.

Here is a brief discussion about ten approaches to caring for the hurting that look helpful on the surface, but in the end may only add to the pain. Through this list, I hope you’ll see that God’s love triumphs in your weaknesses. We don’t know the answers, and we can’t fix things, but he is faithful to care for our friends in the midst of their pain.

1. Don’t Be the Fix-It Person

“I’ve been thinking about you. I’ve picked up this brand-new organic, all-natural ointment that will surely heal your disability. My grandmother used it for her foot pain, and it went away in a week. It should heal you too!”

The truth is, nobody wants another treatment, ointment, acupuncture reference, or diet that is 100 percent guaranteed to get their hopes up higher than they’ve ever been before. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been handed another bag full of exotic creams in some language I couldn’t understand. I can’t count the number of times people have given me something that they claim has healed someone with the same ailment that I have. When you make these claims and guarantee healing, it may highlight to the one who is hurting that you have no idea what kind of issues they are actually dealing with. It’s in our nature to want to offer a solution for a problem—and that’s great! We yearn to help and often have great intentions by wanting to fix things. The heart behind this is wonderful, but sometimes the best help is a listening ear to the problems that a person is really facing. Proverbs 10:19 says, “When words are many, transgression is not lacking, but whoever restrains his lips is prudent.” A better approach would be to ask more questions and grow in your understanding of another’s pain rather than offering solutions for something you know very little about. Sometimes the best thing you can do is say, “I’m sorry, can you help me better understand what you are going through?” And then listen.

2. Don’t Play the Comparison Game

“Oh, wow, you have arm pain. I had tennis elbow one time, and it was really rough. I couldn’t play any sports for a couple of weeks. I know exactly what you’re going through.”

Unless you’re Jesus, it almost never helps to tell someone that you know exactly what he or she is going through. We think we’re encouraging others by proclaiming we’ve gone through something similar, when in reality what they’re going through may be much different from our past experience. It is certainly not exactly the same. Another way you might play the comparison game is to point out other people who have it worse than your friend. We might think we’re helping when we tell someone who has a hurt leg, “Well, at least you still have a leg. There are thousands of people around the world who don’t have any legs, and they can’t walk at all. Praise God for the leg you have!” But how is that supposed to make the person feel? Not better, that’s for sure. When you do this, you minimize another person’s suffering. You are making your suffering friend feel like his pain is “no big deal.” To people in pain—whatever their issue is—it is a big deal. A person’s suffering is no small suffering to that person in that moment. If you minimize a person’s pain, it will compound his hurt even more. And when a person’s experience of his real pain is invalidated, then he is not pointed to Christ for hope and help. Why bother Jesus with something that’s really no big deal? A better way forward is to say, “I love you,” and “I am so sorry,” and to pour out your heart in compassion for the one hurting because what he’s going through is difficult and unique to him. Rather than working hard to remember your distant relative who went through something similar and sharing those stories, show sympathy and love for the hurting person who is right in front of you. Instead of comparing your friend to someone you know, you might say, “I don’t pretend to understand what you’re going through, but I want to try. Help me understand how you are feeling.”

3. Don’t Make It Their Identity

“Hi, nice to see you. How’s your back? Is it feeling any better? Have you gotten any rest? Are you in a lot of pain right now? How is it compared to how you were last week? You really don’t look very good right now, maybe you should sit down.”
Another of the ten commandments of what not to do for your hurting friends is to bring up their pain so much that it becomes their identity. If you talk about it all the time, you are at risk of defining them by their struggle and pain as if that’s all they’re about. We need to be careful to not constantly bring up their suffering. At the same time, we want to show we care, so this is a tough balance to keep. As you care for your friend, it is important to remember that if your friend has a disability, he is not fundamentally a disabled person. If he is a Christian, then he is a Christian who has a disability. If your friend has lost his job, he is not fundamentally an unemployed person. If he is a Christian, then he is a Christian who is unemployed. As a Christian, his primary identity is as a son of the living God. He is a human being who has an immortal soul, redeemed out of the kingdom of darkness.

The apostle Paul understands this truth but goes even further and says that the fundamental identity of Christians is that they are in Christ. That despite our sin and wickedness, God did the following: "But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ—by grace you have been saved—and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, so that in the coming ages he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus" (Eph. 2:4–7). A believer now lives in light of a completely new reality. Our sinful condition is reversed. We have gone from being enemies of God to being “in Christ” (v. 7). This is the reality for the Christian. Now that we are saved by grace, God views believers as he views his Son. This is remarkable. When God the Father looks at us, he sees Jesus. When he looks at a Christian who has a disability, he doesn’t primarily see disability; above all, he sees his Son. When he looks at a Christian who is weak or sick, he doesn’t see sickness—he sees our Savior. As we interact with believers who are hurting, realize that their identity is that of being in Christ Jesus. When you speak to them, help them draw their gaze to Christ so they can see things from an eternal perspective, and consistently remind them that their identity is not in their circumstances, but in their Savior.

4. Don’t Promise Deliverance Now

“Oh, I just know you are going to get healed. You love Jesus and are faithful to him, so he will definitely heal you. Just be patient and think positive and keep the faith and you’ll be healed in no time at all.”

When we 100 percent guarantee that God will deliver our friends from their suffering in this earthly life, we make God out to be some type of cosmic vending machine. Your prayer requests become command central for getting God to do the exact thing you want, when you want it. When you give the promise of healing to the hurting, you inevitably overpromise and underdeliver. Eventually this message lets you down. If you see God as a vending machine, then you will become disillusioned when your candy bar doesn’t drop after payment has been submitted. When you promise healing for your friend, he will be crushed if it doesn’t happen. Instead of promising deliverance, promise the presence of God.

A Christian worships God for God, because God is more precious than anything this world has to offer. God is the beginning and the end. He’s the goal—more of him, not more of the stuff you think you can get from him. Over the past decade or so, various well-meaning people have kindly told me that God was going to heal me. They have tried to encourage me that since I am a man of faith and I love God, I’ll be healed. Some have said that because I am a pastor and am doing the Lord’s work, I will be healed. Many have said that God would bless my faithfulness by giving me good health. Others have said, “It’s all going to be okay.” Now, they’re right and they’re wrong. God will one day heal me, but it might not come here on earth. I may never get to pick up my baby in this life. However, in the next, I will not shed another tear as I ponder whether I will ever be able to play ball with my sons. In this life I may not be able to button my shirt and put on my shoes by myself, but in the next life I will be perfectly dressed in Christ’s righteousness. Instead of promising deliverance in this life, point them to God’s presence and a future hope that will never let them down.

Loving Those Who Hurt

10 Ways Not To Help A Hurting Friend, a post by Dave Furman, author of Being There: How to Love Those Who Are Hurting. (via Crossway Books)

You may think you have the right approach and goal in caring for your friend going through depression, your sick elderly mother, a couple struggling through a miscarriage, or a friend grieving the loss of a career, but it doesn’t matter how sincere you are if you're way off target. I have had conversations with many individuals who had good intentions, but at the end of the day they only exacerbated my hurt. And sometimes I thought I was doing good for someone else when I was actually causing more pain. In our sincerity we can still be wrong! We need God’s help to care for our friends who are distressed.

Here is a brief discussion about ten approaches to caring for the hurting that look helpful on the surface, but in the end may only add to the pain. Through this list, I hope you’ll see that God’s love triumphs in your weaknesses. We don’t know the answers, and we can’t fix things, but he is faithful to care for our friends in the midst of their pain.

1. Don’t Be the Fix-It Person

“I’ve been thinking about you. I’ve picked up this brand-new organic, all-natural ointment that will surely heal your disability. My grandmother used it for her foot pain, and it went away in a week. It should heal you too!”

The truth is, nobody wants another treatment, ointment, acupuncture reference, or diet that is 100 percent guaranteed to get their hopes up higher than they’ve ever been before. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been handed another bag full of exotic creams in some language I couldn’t understand. I can’t count the number of times people have given me something that they claim has healed someone with the same ailment that I have. When you make these claims and guarantee healing, it may highlight to the one who is hurting that you have no idea what kind of issues they are actually dealing with. It’s in our nature to want to offer a solution for a problem—and that’s great! We yearn to help and often have great intentions by wanting to fix things. The heart behind this is wonderful, but sometimes the best help is a listening ear to the problems that a person is really facing. Proverbs 10:19 says, “When words are many, transgression is not lacking, but whoever restrains his lips is prudent.” A better approach would be to ask more questions and grow in your understanding of another’s pain rather than offering solutions for something you know very little about. Sometimes the best thing you can do is say, “I’m sorry, can you help me better understand what you are going through?” And then listen.

2. Don’t Play the Comparison Game

“Oh, wow, you have arm pain. I had tennis elbow one time, and it was really rough. I couldn’t play any sports for a couple of weeks. I know exactly what you’re going through.”

Unless you’re Jesus, it almost never helps to tell someone that you know exactly what he or she is going through. We think we’re encouraging others by proclaiming we’ve gone through something similar, when in reality what they’re going through may be much different from our past experience. It is certainly not exactly the same. Another way you might play the comparison game is to point out other people who have it worse than your friend. We might think we’re helping when we tell someone who has a hurt leg, “Well, at least you still have a leg. There are thousands of people around the world who don’t have any legs, and they can’t walk at all. Praise God for the leg you have!” But how is that supposed to make the person feel? Not better, that’s for sure. When you do this, you minimize another person’s suffering. You are making your suffering friend feel like his pain is “no big deal.” To people in pain—whatever their issue is—it is a big deal. A person’s suffering is no small suffering to that person in that moment. If you minimize a person’s pain, it will compound his hurt even more. And when a person’s experience of his real pain is invalidated, then he is not pointed to Christ for hope and help. Why bother Jesus with something that’s really no big deal? A better way forward is to say, “I love you,” and “I am so sorry,” and to pour out your heart in compassion for the one hurting because what he’s going through is difficult and unique to him. Rather than working hard to remember your distant relative who went through something similar and sharing those stories, show sympathy and love for the hurting person who is right in front of you. Instead of comparing your friend to someone you know, you might say, “I don’t pretend to understand what you’re going through, but I want to try. Help me understand how you are feeling.”

3. Don’t Make It Their Identity

“Hi, nice to see you. How’s your back? Is it feeling any better? Have you gotten any rest? Are you in a lot of pain right now? How is it compared to how you were last week? You really don’t look very good right now, maybe you should sit down.”
Another of the ten commandments of what not to do for your hurting friends is to bring up their pain so much that it becomes their identity. If you talk about it all the time, you are at risk of defining them by their struggle and pain as if that’s all they’re about. We need to be careful to not constantly bring up their suffering. At the same time, we want to show we care, so this is a tough balance to keep. As you care for your friend, it is important to remember that if your friend has a disability, he is not fundamentally a disabled person. If he is a Christian, then he is a Christian who has a disability. If your friend has lost his job, he is not fundamentally an unemployed person. If he is a Christian, then he is a Christian who is unemployed. As a Christian, his primary identity is as a son of the living God. He is a human being who has an immortal soul, redeemed out of the kingdom of darkness.

The apostle Paul understands this truth but goes even further and says that the fundamental identity of Christians is that they are in Christ. That despite our sin and wickedness, God did the following: "But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ—by grace you have been saved—and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, so that in the coming ages he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus" (Eph. 2:4–7). A believer now lives in light of a completely new reality. Our sinful condition is reversed. We have gone from being enemies of God to being “in Christ” (v. 7). This is the reality for the Christian. Now that we are saved by grace, God views believers as he views his Son. This is remarkable. When God the Father looks at us, he sees Jesus. When he looks at a Christian who has a disability, he doesn’t primarily see disability; above all, he sees his Son. When he looks at a Christian who is weak or sick, he doesn’t see sickness—he sees our Savior. As we interact with believers who are hurting, realize that their identity is that of being in Christ Jesus. When you speak to them, help them draw their gaze to Christ so they can see things from an eternal perspective, and consistently remind them that their identity is not in their circumstances, but in their Savior.

4. Don’t Promise Deliverance Now

“Oh, I just know you are going to get healed. You love Jesus and are faithful to him, so he will definitely heal you. Just be patient and think positive and keep the faith and you’ll be healed in no time at all.”

When we 100 percent guarantee that God will deliver our friends from their suffering in this earthly life, we make God out to be some type of cosmic vending machine. Your prayer requests become command central for getting God to do the exact thing you want, when you want it. When you give the promise of healing to the hurting, you inevitably overpromise and underdeliver. Eventually this message lets you down. If you see God as a vending machine, then you will become disillusioned when your candy bar doesn’t drop after payment has been submitted. When you promise healing for your friend, he will be crushed if it doesn’t happen. Instead of promising deliverance, promise the presence of God.

A Christian worships God for God, because God is more precious than anything this world has to offer. God is the beginning and the end. He’s the goal—more of him, not more of the stuff you think you can get from him. Over the past decade or so, various well-meaning people have kindly told me that God was going to heal me. They have tried to encourage me that since I am a man of faith and I love God, I’ll be healed. Some have said that because I am a pastor and am doing the Lord’s work, I will be healed. Many have said that God would bless my faithfulness by giving me good health. Others have said, “It’s all going to be okay.” Now, they’re right and they’re wrong. God will one day heal me, but it might not come here on earth. I may never get to pick up my baby in this life. However, in the next, I will not shed another tear as I ponder whether I will ever be able to play ball with my sons. In this life I may not be able to button my shirt and put on my shoes by myself, but in the next life I will be perfectly dressed in Christ’s righteousness. Instead of promising deliverance in this life, point them to God’s presence and a future hope that will never let them down.

How To Not Say The Wrong Thing

This needs to be heard, understood, and practiced!  How Not To Say the Wrong Thing In Death, Illness,  Divorce and Other Crises by Susan Silk and Barry Goldman (HT: United Methodist Church of North Texas)

When Susan had breast cancer, we heard a lot of lame remarks, but our favorite came from one of Susan’s colleagues. She wanted, she needed, to visit Susan after the surgery, but Susan didn’t feel like having visitors, and she said so. Her colleague’s response? “This isn’t just about you.”

“It’s not?” Susan wondered. “My breast cancer is not about me? It’s about you?”

The same theme came up again when our friend Katie had a brain aneurysm. She was in intensive care for a long time and finally got out and into a step-down unit. She was no longer covered with tubes and lines and monitors, but she was still in rough shape. A friend came and saw her and then stepped into the hall with Katie’s husband, Pat. “I wasn’t prepared for this,” she told him. “I don’t know if I can handle it.”

This woman loves Katie, and she said what she did because the sight of Katie in this condition moved her so deeply. But it was the wrong thing to say. And it was wrong in the same way Susan’s colleague’s remark was wrong.

Susan has since developed a simple technique to help people avoid this mistake. It works for all kinds of crises: medical, legal, financial, romantic, even existential. She calls it the Ring Theory.

 Illustration by Wes Bausmith / Los Angeles Times

The ‘Ring Theory’ of kvetching works in all kinds of crises — medical, legal, even existential.

Draw a circle. This is the center ring. In it, put the name of the person at the center of the current trauma. For Katie’s aneurysm, that’s Katie. Now draw a larger circle around the first one. In that ring put the name of the person next closest to the trauma. In the case of Katie’s aneurysm, that was Katie’s husband, Pat. Repeat the process as many times as you need to. In each larger ring put the next closest people. Parents and children before more distant relatives. Intimate friends in smaller rings, less intimate friends in larger ones. When you are done you have a Kvetching Order. One of Susan’s patients found it useful to tape it to her refrigerator.

Here are the rules. The person in the center ring can say anything she wants to anyone, anywhere. She can kvetch and complain and whine and moan and curse the heavens and say, “Life is unfair” and “Why me?” That’s the one payoff for being in the center ring.

Everyone else can say those things too, but only to people in larger rings.

When you are talking to a person in a ring smaller than yours, someone closer to the center of the crisis, the goal is to help. Listening is often more helpful than talking. But if you’re going to open your mouth, ask yourself if what you are about to say is likely to provide comfort and support. If it isn’t, don’t say it. Don’t, for example, give advice. People who are suffering from trauma don’t need advice. They need comfort and support. So say, “I’m sorry” or “This must really be hard for you” or “Can I bring you a pot roast?” Don’t say, “You should hear what happened to me” or “Here’s what I would do if I were you.” And don’t say, “This is really bringing me down.”

If you want to scream or cry or complain, if you want to tell someone how shocked you are or how icky you feel, or whine about how it reminds you of all the terrible things that have happened to you lately, that’s fine. It’s a perfectly normal response. Just do it to someone in a bigger ring.

Comfort IN, dump OUT.

There was nothing wrong with Katie’s friend saying she was not prepared for how horrible Katie looked, or even that she didn’t think she could handle it. The mistake was that she said those things to Pat. She dumped IN.

Complaining to someone in a smaller ring than yours doesn’t do either of you any good. On the other hand, being supportive to her principal caregiver may be the best thing you can do for the patient.

Most of us know this. Almost nobody would complain to the patient about how rotten she looks. Almost no one would say that looking at her makes them think of the fragility of life and their own closeness to death. In other words, we know enough not to dump into the center ring. Ring Theory merely expands that intuition and makes it more concrete: Don’t just avoid dumping into the center ring, avoid dumping into any ring smaller than your own.

Remember, you can say whatever you want if you just wait until you’re talking to someone in a larger ring than yours.

And don’t worry. You’ll get your turn in the center ring. You can count on that.

When "Christian Answers" Aren't Enough

There are times when our good intentioned Christian platitudes become attempts to deny the realty of human pain in a fallen world. Sometimes we just have to weep with those who weep, long before we can rejoice with them.  Read Please Don't Give Me A Christian Answer by Lysa TerKeurst at Proverbs 31 Ministries.

I love Jesus. I love God. I love His Truth. I love people.

But I don’t love packaged Christian answers. Those that tie everything up in a nice neat bow. And make life a little too tidy.

Because there just isn’t anything tidy about some things that happen in our broken world. The senseless acts of violence we hear about continually in the news are awful and sad and so incredibly evil.

And God help me if I think I’m going to make things better by thinking up a clever Christian saying to add to all the dialogue. God certainly doesn’t need people like me — with limited perspectives, limited understanding and limited depth — trying to make sense of things that don’t make sense.

Is there a place for God’s truth in all this? Absolutely. But we must, must, must let God direct us. In His time. In His way. In His love.

And when things are awful we should just say, “This is awful.” When things don’t make sense, we can’t shy away from just saying, “This doesn’t make sense.” Because there is a difference between a wrong word at the wrong time and a right word at the right time.

When my sister died a horribly tragic death, it was because a doctor prescribed some medication no child should ever be given. And it set off a chain of events that eventually found my family standing over a pink rose-draped casket.

Weeping.

Hurting.

Needing time to wrestle with grief and anger and loss.

And it infuriated my raw soul when people tried to sweep up the shattered pieces of our life by saying things like, “Well, God just needed another angel in heaven.” It took the shards of my grief and twisted them even more deeply into my already broken heart.

I understand why they said things like this … they wanted to say something. To make it better. Their compassion compelled them to come close.

And I wanted them there. And then I didn’t.

Everything was a contradiction. I could be crying hysterically one minute and laughing the next. And then I’d feel so awful for daring to laugh that I wanted to cuss. And then sing a praise song. I wanted to shake my fist at God and then read His Scriptures for hours.

There’s just nothing tidy about all that.

But the thing I know now that I wish I knew then is that even Jesus understood what it was like to feel deeply human emotions like grief and heartache. We see this in John 11:32-35 when Jesus receives the news that his dear friend Lazarus has died, “When Mary reached the place where Jesus was and saw him, she fell at his feet and said, ‘Lord, if you had been here, my brother [Lazarus] would not have died.’ When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who had come along with her also weeping, he was deeply moved in spirit and troubled. ‘Where have you laid him?’ he asked. ‘Come and see, Lord,’ they replied. Jesus wept.”

Yes, Jesus wept and mourned with His loved ones in that devastatingly heartbreaking moment. And the fact that He can identify with my pain is so comforting to me.
You want to know the best thing someone said to me in the middle of my grief?

I was standing in the midst of all the tears falling down on black dresses and black suits on that grey funeral day. My heels were sinking into the grass. I was staring down at an ant pile. The ants were running like mad around a footprint that had squashed their home.
I was wondering if I stood in that pile and let them sting me a million times if maybe that pain would distract me from my soul pain. At least I knew how to soothe physical pain.

Suddenly, this little pigtailed girl skipped by me and exclaimed, “I hate ants.”

And that was hands-down the best thing anyone said that day.

Because she just entered in right where I was. Noticed where I was focused in that moment and just said something basic. Normal. Obvious.

Yes, there is a place for a solid Christian answer from well-intentioned friends. Absolutely. But then there’s also a place to weep with a hurting friend from the depths of your soul.
God help us to know the difference.

Dear Lord, thank You for being there in my darkest time. I know You are real and You are the only one who can bring comfort to seemingly impossible situations. Please help me speak Your truth to those around me. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.

What Not To Ask the Grieving

Do you find it uncomfortable talking to someone undergoing grief? Have you ever asked them "How are you?" If so, please read What Not To Ask Someone Suffering by Nancy Guthrie

People ask me all the time what to say and what to do for people who are grieving the death of someone they love. And I’m glad they ask. I’m glad they want to know what is really helpful and meaningful, and what is completely unhelpful and actually hurtful. And I wish I could tell you that I always know myself what to say. But sometimes words fail me. And I wish I could tell you that I never say the wrong thing. But I do. In fact, a few days ago, I made the mistake I often tell other people not to make.
The minute I said it I wish I hadn’t. I should know better. But it’s just what came out. Maybe it’s what comes out when you talk to grieving people too. Here’s what I said. Or more accurately, what I asked:

       How are you?

It doesn’t seem so wrong, does it? It’s a question that reveals that we care. It lets the person know we haven’t forgotten about their loss. Really it is an invitation for the grieving person to talk about their loss. But many grieving people say they simply hate the question. They feel put on the spot to report on their job performance in this task they’ve been given — continuing to live when their loved one has died — a task for which they had no training and for which they seem to have no resources. It’s a question they don’t know how to answer. “I’m fine” isn’t quite right. They may be functioning, and perhaps even feeling better, but they know they’re not “fine.” “I’m terrible” seems whiney. “I’m angry!” seems unacceptable. “I’m crying all the time” seems pathetic.

Something Is Wrong

“How are you?” is one of those questions that always bothered my husband, David, in those days after our daughter, and later our son, died. He always felt like he was supposed to quantify his progress back toward normalcy. In our book,When Your Family’s Lost a Loved One he wrote, “In the midst of my own pain and confusion, I suddenly also felt responsible to others to give an account for my progress. As the words of my reply come measured through my lips, I wondered if my report would be acceptable.”

The grieving person knows what the questioner most likely wants to hear — that everything is getting better, the world is getting brighter, the darkness is lifting, and the tears are subsiding. But oftentimes that just isn’t the way it is, and it is awkward to be honest about the confusion, listlessness, and loneliness of grief. The reality of grief is that sometimes right after the loss we feel strong, but as time passes, and the reality of life without that person settles in, we feel weak and weepy. And it’s awkward to talk about.

We’re afraid that if we tell you how sad we are, you might think there is something “wrong” with the way we’re doing this grief thing. We’re afraid you will assume we should be on a steady upward path toward normalcy and that we’re going in the wrong direction. Sometimes we want to scream that we will never be “normal” again. And sometimes we just want to say, “How am I? I’m sad. And I wish the world — including you — would simply give me some time and space to simply be sad. This person I loved has died and I miss him. He mattered to me and therefore it makes sense that I would not get over his absence easily or quickly.”

What Should You Say?

So as you interact with someone going through the lonely adjustment of grief, what should you ask in place of “How are you?” Here are some ideas:

What is your grief like these days? This question assumes that it makes sense that the person is sad and gives them the opportunity to talk about it.

I can’t imagine how hard it must be to face these days without (name of person who died). Are there particular times of day or days of the week you’re finding especially hard? Keep on saying the name of the person who died. It is music to the grieving person’s ears.

I find myself really missing (name of person who died) when I . . . It is a great comfort for the grieving person to know that he or she is not the only one who misses the person who died.

I often think of you when I’m (gardening/driving by your house/going for a walk/get up in the morning/etc.) and whisper a prayer for you to experience God’s comfort. Are there particular things I could be praying for you as you go through this time of grief?

I know that (name of the person who died)’s birthday/deathday is coming up and it must be so very hard to anticipate that day without him/her here. What are you thinking about that day? Is there anything we could do to help you get through that day?

I know the holidays/mother’s day/father’s day/your anniversary is coming up. I will be especially thinking of you and praying for you as that approaches. We would love to have you over, would you join us?
In a sense, all of these questions are asking, “How are you?” but somehow they express a desire to enter into the sorrow of another instead of merely getting a report on their sorrow. In this way we come alongside to “bear one another’s burdens” (Galatians 6:2).

Things Not to Say to A Depressed Loved One

From a good article by Michael Patton, who has experienced depression from both sides (as a sufferer and a counselor) - 7 Things NOT to Say to a Depressed Christian. Please read. Please understand, Please do not act this way or say these things to your depressed loved ones.

As many of you know, I’ve been depressed for almost five years now. I had a major break in March of 2010. It came out of nowhere and has been a frequent uninvited guest in my home ever since.

I won’t go into it now, but almost seven weeks ago I came out of the depression. I think I know the triggers. But I often tell people not to get too excited. I can never be sure which “me” is going to wake up tomorrow. Will it be joyful me? (who I love) He’s the one who sees life positively and has no time for worry (too busy serving God)? Or will it be broken me (who I hate)? He can’t dwell on anything but the bad and sees no hope in life (and doesn’t even act like there’s a God)?

But while I have my thoughts straight, I’ve been able to dwell on so many positive things. One of these is the subject of this post. I’ve accumulated a list of seven things depressed people (Christian’s especially) are told. They’re meant to help them out of their depression. I’ve even had these things said to me. But these things are wrong.
Please Note: None of these things necessarily come from evil intentions. These come from people who sincerely want you to recover. However, they do come from the evil flesh that dwells in all of us: judgmentalism. I hope this becomes clear as you read.

Further Reading: Dealing With My Depression #1: Muffling Its Voice

“Just Snap Out of It”

I don’t know how many times I said this to my depressed sister before she took her life. “Just snap out of it, Angie.” From my perspective, I thought you could. I thought that being depressed or happy was an act of the will. If you just make the right decision, you can think your way out of it. But more often than not, depression is not an act of the will. It is an interplay between the mind and the brain that you can’t snap out of. Don’t you think that people who are depressed would “Just snap out of it” if it were that easy? Remember, they don’t want to be depressed. It is the worst torture that one can possibly imagine.

“Think Positively”

Again, this might seem right. Please realize that most of the time a depressed person can’t think positively. That’s why they’re depressed. If I were to tell you there’s a giant elephant in your room, would you believe me? What if I said that all you have to do is close your eyes and trust it to be true? You’d probably say, “I can’t!”Telling someone who’s depressed to “think positively” completely misses the problem. They can’t think positively any more than you can believe there’s an elephant in the room. They don’t want to think negatively. They just can’t stop.

Further Reading: Depression – When We Want to Die

Read it all at the link.

Just Be There

If you have ever struggled with depression, or loved someone who has, please read this piece by Annie Lee Edwards - How to Love Your Depressed Friend. If you've been depressed, you'll say amen. If you've tried to help a depressed loved one, you'll learn something important.

It was a forced friendship from the beginning. Boldly, she announced that every single Wednesday she would be coming to my house. I could see her resolve. I was scared, and I started to squirm. Every Wednesday? Generally, I leave this thing open ended, “penciled in,” if you will. In other words, I rarely do firm “commitments.” After all, what if I need to change my mind? Somehow, she must have known my propensity at changing plans and calling in sick.

She needed a lot from me, and I was not prepared to give it. I timidly opened the door every Wednesday, and she walked in.

Chances are you know someone who is struggling with depression. She may be living under your own roof or sitting in the pew next to you.

“What can we do when a loved one is wrestling with depression,” you ask?

Often we want to run onto the scene and “fix them.” Give us a list so we can check it off and instantly transform this unpleasant forecast to sunny days. If only it were that easy.

Bringing the Light of Christ

I’m persuaded that sometimes the best thing we can do is nothing more than to sit and be with them. No formula, just the power of presence. What if the most profound, life-giving thing about us is our transformed and transforming presence?

Jesus entered into our darkness (John 1:14). Love opened the door and walked into our world so we could walk into the light (John 1:4). He was present with us in order to lead us to redemption.

We all want to be the friend on sunny days, but it is uncomfortable to enter into broken places where the sun refuses to shine and the shadows incessantly come out to play.
However, as followers of Jesus this is exactly where we are called to be, present with people in their suffering. You have something that everybody needs – light (not the light of our own deceptive morality, but the light from heaven, the light of the Lord Jesus Christ). However, the light cannot be seen if it does not make itself available.

Draw Near with Tears, Not Many Words

By definition, a depressed person is often plagued with an uninvited irrationality about them. In other words, their minds (at least in that state) don’t have the full capacity to rightly think and reason. Thus, words and speeches are frequently of no avail. In the immediate, giving them your compassionate tears, not your words, is often the best approach. It’s not that they don’t want to hear and believe; it’s that they can’t.

Those who feel like they are suffocating from the weight of darkness may be unable to move towards your advances in friendship. An almost certain accompaniment with any legitimate depression is the tendency to withdraw from relationships (even from those people whom we love and respect the most dearly).

Do not take this personally. I literally have hidden under tables so my friends could not see I was home. Please do not be offended when a depressed person doesn’t return a text or phone call (or doesn’t answer the door). These hurt feelings or anger at the depressed person are exactly what Satan wants from you. He wants you to be offended by the cold shoulder, leading you to run from your friend. Christ, on the other hand, wants you to realize this is not a battle against flesh and blood. He wants you to take up the sword and fight for your friend (even if the other person is sleeping in their own tears, or hiding in their own shame and fear, while you are fighting).

During an episode of post-partum depression, I hid in the shadows because it was embarrassing for church members to see me so weak and miserable. I am grateful to those women who brought meals to me and came to sit with me every day until I started to come back to life. My mother stayed for almost an entire month. When my husband had to be at work, women from our church came each and every day to just be with me. I was scared to be alone. Although they could not protect me from the monster of depression, just their presence helped immensely.

You may need to do whatever is necessary to show them the love of Christ as they walk through this darkness. Your friend may not answer the door or act excited to hang out with you, but go through the door anyway, and when you do, open the door of grace. Chances are, your friend has been opening many doors searching for a way out of this darkness, but all they have experienced are doors of doubt and defeat slammed in their face.

God can use you as a means of light in the darkness of your friend’s soul, if only you are willing to be the Christ-infusing presence she needs as she walks through depression.

HT: CBMW

Understand the Blackness

Getting Wet With the Drowning

Found this very valuable post by Adam McHugh at Internet Monk: When Someone is in a Storm. This is an excerpt from Adam’s forthcoming book, The Listening Life (IVP, October 2015). Everyone who ever has to counsel or minister to someone who has undergone great emotional trauma needs to fully grasp and own this.

Nothing shuts down a person in pain like quoting the Bible at them. As I write that, I can hear the sirens of the Heresy Police surrounding my building. Yes, the Bible contains the words of life, the promises of God-with-us that have comforted saints and resurrected sinners. But the Bible can also be the ultimate conversation killer. It can be used as a tool for silencing people and for short-circuiting grief, hurt, and depression. Sometimes people use the Bible in a way that makes a hurting person feel like God is telling them to shut up.

I don’t like saying this, but it has been my experience that Christians are often worse at dealing with people in pain than others with different beliefs. Truth be told, I have chosen on many occasions to share my painful moments and emotions with non-Christians rather than Christians, because I knew I would be better heard. This saddens me. It seems to me that no one should run into the fire like Christians, because we follow a Savior who descended into hell. But we all know it is far less messy to stand over people in pain than it is to enter their worlds and risk feeling pain ourselves.

I once heard a ministry colleague say: “I’m going to be with a person in the hospital tonight. Time to speak some truth.” This idea prevails in many Christian circles, that preaching is the healing balm for suffering. Whether it’s sickness or divorce or job loss, a crisis calls for some sound Biblical exhortation. I have a number of issues with this. First, it assumes that the hurting person does not believe the right things or believe with enough fervency. They may end up receiving the message that their faith is not strong enough for them to see their situation rightly, or that something is wrong with them because they are struggling. Second, preaching to people in pain preys on the vulnerable. It’s stabbing the sword of truth into their wound, or doing surgery without anesthesia. Unwelcome truth is never healing. Third, “speaking truth” into situations of pain is distancing. You get to stand behind your pulpit, or your intercessory prayer that sounds strangely like a sermon, and the other person is a captive audience, trapped in the pew of your anxious truth. Suffering inevitably makes a person feel small and isolated, and preaching to them only makes them feel smaller and more alone.

Dr. Seuss wrote some classic stories, but he also gave some classically bad advice: “Don’t cry that it’s over. Smile that it happened.” Your role as a listener is, by all means, to let them cry that it’s over. Don’t be the Grinch who stole grief. Be a witness to their tears. Each falling tear carries pain and it’s the only way to get it out.

A hurting person is in a storm. They are cold, wet, shivering, and scared. Preaching, platitudes, and advice will not get them out of the storm. Don’t tell a person in a storm that it’s a sunny day. There will likely come a day when the clouds part, but it is not today. It’s not your job to pull them out of the storm. It’s your job to get wet with them.

Depressed Advice

If you have ever counselled a clinically depressed person to "just read your Bible and pray and you will be happy and well," please read this post by Brad Williams. If you have ever been told that advice, and felt guilty because it did not work for you, please read this post..

"When I Realized the Bible Cannot Cure Everything"

Sometimes you just need to take your medication first (and regularly)....and then read the Bible and pray.

Think It Throuogh

HT @ACBC The Association of Certified Biblical Counselors

Dealing With Pain

This is a good and helpful article by John Starke at the Gospel Coalition on "3 Ways to Think About God and Pain":

A pastor quickly learns that if he stays at a church for even a short while, he'll consistently walk with people through pain. Suffering is never far away from a pastor. Through trial and error, he learns (some of us slowly) what to say and what not say. There are no pat answers. Formulas generally work only on paper, not on people.I have learned that shepherding people through suffering and pain takes more love than pastoral expertise, and often love comes with time. Many times I've been ready with an answer for a question someone didn't have. That's not love. Without speaking for other pastor-flunkies, that impulse usually comes from wanting to be the Savior of the their pain, rather than the one who shares in their pain.

But often the tough questions finally do come. Usually it's not when they first approach me. It's typically after I've been slow to speak, and they can sense my heart is broken with them. From my experience, when people come to pastors concerning their suffering and pain, they're coming with questions. However, those usually come after folks know their pastor loves them; he's slow to speak and quick to mourn with the mourning.

When the questions come, it's clear that not everyone goes through pain the same way. There's not one good answer for questions about God and suffering. People are complex, and so are God's ways. Our answers should reflect that reality.

Nevertheless, I have found three categories of thinking about God and pain that have been helpful as I talk with different people in my church who have been fired from work, learned of their wife's affair, lost their spouse, or endured infertility. These three different ways help us wrap our minds around Romans 8, which teaches that somehow God works all things—whether pain or joy, sword or comfort—for our good.

I say "category" because, again, there are no easy answers to pain. Each instance of pain is different, and each person faces it differently. So use these categories flexibly and with as much love and tenderness as possible.

What Not to Say

From the Gospel Coalition blog:

"Job's friends were great counselors," Tullian Tchividjian observes, "until they opened their mouth."

Tchividjian sat down with Paul Tripp and Dave Furman to discuss things you shouldn't to say to a person in pain—many of which they've learned the hard way.....

...Watch the full seven-minute video to see these pastors discuss blunders they've made, comforting their kids, awkward silence, and more.