Simple Solidarity (Friday Devotional)

 

Now when Job’s three friends heard of all these troubles that had come upon him, each of them set out from his home—Eliphaz the Temanite, Bildad the Shuhite, and Zophar the Naamathite. They met together to go and console and comfort him. When they saw him from a distance, they did not recognize him, and they raised their voices and wept aloud; they tore their robes and threw dust in the air upon their heads. They sat with him on the ground seven days and seven nights, and no one spoke a word to him, for they saw that his suffering was very great.

- Job 2:11-13

The other day, my daughter Katherine was very loudly having a hard time. I don’t remember exactly what the problem was, but I do know it was a catastrophe to her 6-year-old heart, and she was not exactly suffering in silence.

Isaac, our 2-year-old, curiously poked his head in the room to see what all the commotion was about and, with wide eyes, looked at me and Lindsey and said, “Kaka crying!” We affirmed what he was saying and then turned our attention back to Katherine as Isaac left the room.

But then a few seconds later, he reemerged with something in his hand. Gingerly, he walked towards Katherine and set a handful of Corn Pops cereal at her feet as she sobbed. Then, silently, he scooted back and sat down.

That little gesture got me thinking about how we comfort people—or fail to comfort them—as grownups. Sometimes when we see someone hurting, we feel powerless to help them unless we have the tools to solve their problem. If we don’t have the cure for their disease or the money to resolve their debt or the perfect words to comfort them, we often do one of two things: we fall back on trite clichés or, paralyzed by indecision, we do nothing at all.

But I’m reminded of the story of Job, who had every blessing stripped from him and was left with nothing but his life. Eventually, his closest friends would lean on faulty theology to try and explain what he must have done wrong to deserve such a fate. But at first, their reaction was a good one: they simply sat with him in silence. No explanations, no fixes, no words at all—just simple solidarity.

A handful of Corn Pops never solved anybody’s problems. Sitting in silence never took away someone’s pain. But when you show someone you care in little ways—ways that, to you, may feel inconsequential—you are acting as a comfort and an encouragement to someone who feels alone in their trouble.

So when you see somebody hurting, don’t assume that because you can’t do everything, you should do nothing. Send the text message. Offer the hug. Bring over the cup of coffee. And when you don’t know what to say, just listen. You’ll be amazed by how powerful and how godly simple acts of kindness can be.