God is our merciful Father and the source of all comfort. He comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others. When they are troubled, we will be able to give to them the same comfort God has given us. I have a question. If comfort is something God gives to us out of His mercy, is comfort a legitimate need? And another question. If comfort is something God encourages us to give to others, is a need for comfort an indication of diminished spiritual maturity or fullness? For those who grieve or are distressed by the circumstances of their lives, it seems sometimes that they are judged by fellow believers, or at least, that is how it appears when you listen to the comments of those who may be observing or the quick fixes, however spiritual they sound, that they offer. “Trust God.” “Pray harder.” “Why can’t you just let go and give it to God?” “Why are you still in the dumps?” “Are you sure there isn’t something between you and God that you need to take care of?” “You ought to just get out and do something.” “Start thinking about someone else instead of yourself.”
I realize that there is a shadow of truth in each of these statements or questions, but I also recognize that when we glibly toss them about, we show little in the way of compassion or understanding. We also demonstrate our own ignorance of God’s injunctions to take tender care of those who are weak and be patient with everyone. Or, share each other’s burdens, an admonition that comes right after Paul’s counsel to the Galatians that even with those who have sinned, we need to gently and humbly help that person back onto the right path. And I can’t imagine Jesus in His encounters with human suffering or the scourges of oppression or death, offhandedly giving His opinion to “get over it – there are more important things to attend to.”
There are many biblical references to the promises of God and to our need to profoundly depend on Him for the fulfillment of those promises, but never do those instructions or promises negate the reality of human suffering. For some, trust must become something that transcends depths many of us know nothing about. For some, hope will only come slowly as the dark heaviness of tragedy begins to lighten and its memories begin to soften. Renewed purpose and direction can only emerge with the dawning of that hope. Patience with those who know what it is to cling desperately to their God, even while their emotions, behaviors, and thinking may still seem chaotic, will do much more than our glibly spoken words and expectations.
(Related Bible reading: 2 Corinthians 1:3-11)
