Several days ago an acquaintance told me something awful that had happened to her. Her opening up to me about the event was a response to a question that I had innocently asked her. Never in a million years did I expect her to say what she said. My response to her statements was typical, even expected, and somewhat weak though not weakly felt on my part.
I tend to go over things in order to process them and to better understand my reactions. It has occurred to me that I missed an opportunity to be more understanding towards this person, and because of that, more fully present and human to myself. When someone tells you about a profound loss that they have suffered, you can feel completely inadequate to know how to respond: what to say, what to feel and what to do. It's the rare person I think who gets it all right the first time. And as I think about it I know that the terrible feelings I have reflect the fact that not only do I feel bad for this person (and my inability to express that) but I also know that I am not exempt from such an occurrence of tragedy myself. My time will come and then someone else will be standing with me, hearing me say something awful and that person may very well feel inadequate to help also. It's the human condition all the way round and when you come face to face with it, it is painful and somehow feels inevitable.
As I said above, it takes me awhile to process things. The photo for this post was taken on my walk yesterday. It was wonderful to feel the sun on my face even in the midst of cloudy weather. Just to look up and know that the presence of light and warmth can be counted on even when the weather is cold. And this morning I made the connection with how it is that we comfort each other regardless of how "weak" our skills are in this department. It's the human condition, God's presence within us, that makes us want to say that not only are we sorry for someone else's loss but that we feel it keenly in every sense of the word; on every level even if we can't adequately express that. We are there and are present, just like the weak light and heat of the winter sun, regardless of how well we convey that presence.
Libby
Whenever someone shares something difficult with me, I try to ask questions and be open to more sharing on their part. It's what I want when I'm sharing a difficult thing, so I make myself available in case it's what someone else wants too. Hugs to you, friend!
ReplyDeleteThanks Gwenn! That is great advice. I find it so difficult to know what to say or do sometimes. And my friend really surprised me with what she said. It's very difficult I think to talk about some things even though you may desperately want to. Your suggestion to try and be as available as possible is a good one. I hope that the next time something like this happens (and I hope it isn't soon that I get bad news) that I will remember to think more quickly on my feet:)
DeleteGlad that you came for a visit. I appreciate it!
Libby
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ReplyDeleteDear Libby - I am sure Libby your friend knows you care. Often I keep quiet for fear I will make the situation or their pain more intense by saying something wrong. Your final thoughts on the sun and winter and God's presence was so well said. Not only do you paint wonderfully - you are a superb writer too. Take care friend. God's presence can be seen in you. Hugs!
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