A few weeks ago I found myself in a similar state from a spiritual perspective. Those around me were suffering. I was overwhelmed by the sadness, sickness and sin that seemed to be coming from every direction. I have the tendency to love people ferociously and without hesitation which means when they suffer I can't not suffer with them. When a student's parent is very ill and they are afraid, I struggle to simply sit with them and their questions without wanting very much to fix it.
In her most recent blog, Vaneetha Rendall points out that Jesus' most basic need while suffering in the Garden of Gethsemane was companionship.
"Clearly this longing was not sinfully weak or needy. It did not reflect a lack of trust in God or a fragile faith. It was simply human. God incarnate longed for fellowship. Because God created us to live in community. In the same way, our friends often long for presence in their suffering. Caring for them from a distance is not enough. They aren't looking for answers to their deepest questions. Or solutions to their pressing problems. They just need our presence."
On one of the darkest days during the last few weeks it seemed as though life was too much for Jesus to handle. Just my own sin and the brokenness I was aware of seemed insurmountable. I was afraid in that moment to cry out to God. I wasn't angry. I was just weak and sad. During quiet moments of prayer and reflection I realized I was trying to look at the next step and the one after that. Instead of sitting with those who were suffering I was trying to figure out what I could say to help. I wanted to know what my next turn should be. And the next and then the one after that.
In Google Maps on the bottom left corner is a delightful little "Re-Center" button. When I've swiped left so many times I don't recognize the map on the screen I can hit that button and it takes me back to my current location where the streets make sense. This was exactly the kind of action I needed in the last few weeks. I needed to hit the re-center button and be reminded that the faithful God we serve is just that big. Rather than look for the next step I'm called to sit and weep with those who weep. So I hug those who are afraid. And tell them it is very ok not to be ok.
I'm so thankful for a husband who understood my melancholy mood, for a mom who helped me process, for friends half my age who reminded me that I too am allowed to be weak and broken.
