This Thanksgiving is the first to my recollection that has been bookended by heavy news. Two days before Thanksgiving I found myself navigating the corridors of the hospital to spend time with friends who were trying to digest that their two day old son had a high chance of having trisomy-18 (a chromosomal defect which is not compatible with life).
As I watched the well wishers come and go, I was struck by the fact that while all sincerely care, most do not know how to respond to the suffering of others. They try to comfort with words. They talk about God, His goodness, and not needing to know why? They try to relate by telling stories of their own suffering and loss.
Sadly, the breaking human heart is not very receptive to words. Words, apart from prayers, are not very practical when grief is palatable. In the midst of pain, it is often not the spoken word that is the most comforting. Instead it is time spent in a hospital room, a long hug that lets someone know you care, or being intentional to meet an immediate need like a meal. "When grief is the freshest, words should be the fewest!"
well said, Mr. Kramer...well said.
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