There has been grief lately. I have felt shy about my part in the grief, so I have tried to hide it. I am not at the center of the grievous happening. I feel only the ripple effects of the far greater grief of others whom I love. You might easily say that I have no standing to grieve—that I should not feel what I feel. And yet I do.
There is a friend with whom I am not shy about my grief. I tell her about it. She says few words, except with her eyes. She hugs me as if I were very small, and her arms feel like God’s arms.
“Taking the child in His arms. . . .” Mark 9:36
“If you think your task as comforter is to tell me that really, all things considered, it’s not so bad, you do not sit with me in my grief but place yourself off in the distance away from me. Over there, you are of no help. What I need to hear from you is that you recognize how painful it is. I need to hear from you that you are with me in my desperation. To comfort me, you have to come close. Come sit beside me on my mourning bench.” Betty Ferrell