I had nearly forgotten who she was. We had attended the same church, but rarely interacted. Her name was Laura.1 After some time, she and her husband stopped attending church and, once I went off to college, I never really saw or thought of them again until one day, while I was on a school break, my mother told me that we needed to visit Laura. Laura was dying from a terminal illness. I agreed to go; it was the right thing to do.
What to Say?
Soon, however, feelings of discomfort began creeping in. Situations involving death, serious illness, or suffering transform me into an awkward teenager, not knowing what to say or do except stare and smile while nervously seeking a quick exit. On our way to Laura’s home, we made a quick stop at a grocery store, and my mother went in, perhaps to get a sympathy card. While I waited in the car, I reached for a Bible in hopes of finding some inspiration for what to say to console a dying woman. “God, help me know what to say to Laura,” I prayed. “I do not have the right words for this situation. Please show me. In Jesus’ name, amen.”
In that moment God brought a Scripture song from 2 Corinthians 4:16-18 to my memory. It was one we often sang when I was in academy. “Therefore we do not lose heart. Even though our outward man is perishing, yet the inward man is being renewed day by day. For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, is working for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory, while we do not look at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen. For the things which are seen are temporary, but the things which are not seen are eternal.”
“Thank You, God!” I exhaled in relief. “Now I know what to share with Laura.” I was grateful for the answered prayer and relieved that I finally had something to say. Little did I know that God would turn the tables on me very soon.
Maybe it is a time for us to listen more than we speak, to empathize with others and their grieving process, to see God at work in their lives.
Before You Speak
When we arrived at Laura’s home, her husband greeted us, and we followed him into the living room, where she lay back in a recliner. She was pale and thin, with a small blanket to keep her warm and comfortable. It was saddening to see, and those awkward feelings tried to overwhelm me: Be strong, Mayri; get over yourself, I thought, internally shaking myself sober. As we sat down and started conversing I admired my mother’s ability to say the right things. Meanwhile, I mentally prepared myself for just the right moment to share the Bible verses God had shown me. I quietly assured myself that the prepared scriptures would surely bring her some much-needed comfort. My thoughts of self-preparation were suddenly interrupted by a weak but confident voice. “Mayri, reach for that Bible on the table over there.”
After I grabbed the large, worn Bible, I sat beside her. The next thing she said pleasantly surprised me: “Turn to 2 Corinthians 4:16-18 and read those verses for me.” A tiny smile crept onto my face as I read the verses out loud—the same verses God had shown me on the way to Laura’s house.
She thanked me for reading, then shared that those were some of her favorite verses and they held a special meaning for her during this time of suffering. I was silenced by the wonderful reality that God had spoken for me and to me, through her. I had arrived intending to bless her, but ended up being blessed by her. The remainder of the conversation is gone from my memory. A few weeks later her momentary affliction ended in sleep. I hope that her last moments were peaceful and that one day I can thank her for speaking wisdom into my life.
Listening Loudly
Every time I read 2 Corinthians 4:16-18 I think of Laura. That experience taught me that I should not worry so much about what I am supposed to say to those who are suffering or dying, but to give the silent comfort of companionship and empathy, and to let them speak to me.
We may often feel that times of grief and suffering are the perfect opportunity to share extra words of wisdom, more Bible verses, and motivational lines. But maybe it is a time to be quiet, to let God’s living Word and loving Comforter speak through our presence, shared tears, warm embraces, and acts of patient love. Maybe it is a time for us to listen more than we speak, to empathize with others and their grieving process, to see God at work in their lives.
How can we bestow this kind of comfort? Because it has been freely given to us by God Himself. Second Corinthians 1:3, 4 tells us, “Praise the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and the God of all comfort. He comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any kind of affliction, through the comfort we ourselves receive from God” (HCSB).2
May we all, in our momentary affliction, be evidence of the unseen and eternal through the ways we love, comfort, and grieve.
1 Not her real name.
2 Texts credited to HCSB are taken from the Holman Christian Standard Bible, copyright © 1999, 2000, 2002, 2003, 2009 by Holman Bible Publishers. Used by permission.