When it all turns to shit

October 16, 2012 by 39 Comments
'Bike Path Manure' photo (c) 2010, James Schwartz - license: http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/2.0/

A few weeks ago, a man stood in front of our church and shared the testimony of his child who, as an infant, should have died, but was spared.

In my Facebook feed I see a friend cheering the anniversary of her remission from cancer.

I recently attended a wedding where I watched a young man and woman dressed in their finery, celebrating one of the happiest days of their life as a couple.

These are all beautiful moments and I’m thankful that I was able to rejoice with these people as they shared these joyous experiences.

But in that church service, I was sitting beside my best friend who, 13 years ago, watched his five-day-old son slip from this life into the next.

In that same Facebook feed, I see a friend begging for prayers that the pain she is experiencing from her most recent surgery to combat the cancer that just. won’t. leave. would be alleviated.

Following that wedding reception, I texted a friend who is going through a separation.

We’re not great at those moments, especially as Christians. We’re taught and we repeat

Count it all joy!

and

All things work together for good!

and

God won’t give you more than you can handle!

and other amalgamations that sound like the truth, or at least make the truth of awful situations easier to dismiss.

Because sometimes the truth doesn’t fit into our vision of how God is supposed to work. God isn’t supposed to allow infants to die. God isn’t supposed to allow people of faith to suffer disease. God isn’t supposed to allow people to fall out of love.

So we look for ways to make sense of it. Ways to wash away the stench of the offal from the butchering of “supposed to.” Ways to scrape the shit of life from our shiny patent leather Church shoes.

This is more for our benefit than for the person who is suffering. It’s much easier to tell people to buck up than it is to sit and hold them while they cry. Easier to offer platitudes than silence. Easier to pretend that the shit doesn’t stink than to allow that odor to settle in our noses.

Instead of looking for ways to weep with those who weep, we look for ways to cheer up those who are sad. Silver linings, turn that frown upside down, look for the positive.

Sometimes the positive is knowing someone will weep with us.

Sometimes the positive is knowing that life can turn to shit and someone will hold us anyway.

Filed Under: love
  • http://sarahaskins.com Sarah Askins

    I’ve been there on the end of the “I’m praying, it will work out, just trust” words, and I have given them out. But the most healing thing has always been the person who cries with me.

    • http://www.alise-write.com Alise Wright

      Same. Same, same, same. I just need to know that I’m not alone. That’s enough.

  • Cam

    I have a friend who has lost her grandfather, her father, gone through a messy divorce and last week lost her ex husband to suicide, she has two small children and she is one of the most wonderful people I know, sometimes there is absolutely nothing we can say except “I will be there to hold your hand and love you until the giant shit storm passes”

    Thanks for this today Alise.

    • http://www.alise-write.com Alise Wright

      Oh, and that’s a giant shit storm. I’m glad that she has you to be that person to hold her hand.

  • http://thechaffins.blogspot.com Misty

    Fantastic post. Those words can end up doing more damage than intended. Thanks for being someone who will sit and cry with friends. It means more than you can know.

    • http://www.alise-write.com Alise Wright

      I definitely recognize that the words aren’t intended negatively, but yeah, they can still sting. I love you guys so much.

  • http://kathyharter.blogspot.com/ Kathy Harter

    I recently had a conversation with a friend about how hard it is to just sit with someone in their pain. It is so uncomfortable at times that you want to get up and run away. You feel so akward. So inept. But learning how to to lean into the discomfort is so worth it… I am far from being able to do this well, but I am trying.

    • http://www.alise-write.com Alise Wright

      Oh, it’s SO UNCOMFORTABLE. I’m a talker, so I want to use words to comfort. But words are rarely comfort in those seasons.

  • Bob Slatt

    These are great words for what we can do for someone who is suffering. Yet even while being comforted we still ask the question of why God allows this to happen to us.

    I’m reminded of when John the Baptist is discouraged in prison and he sends his followers to Jesus to ask if he’s really the one he and everyone else is looking for. Luke 7:21-23

    “In that hour he healed many people of diseases and plagues and evil spirits, and on many who were blind he bestowed sight. And he answered them, “Go and tell John what you have seen and heard: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, and the deaf hear, the dead are raised up, the poor have good news preached to them. And blessed is the one who is not offended by me.”

    We all suffer and as God’s people we should share in each others sufferings. We must also remember that in our times of suffering can also be our times of greatest blessing. :-)

    • http://www.alise-write.com Alise Wright

      Oh, I don’t meant to say that there can’t be good that stems from bad. There certainly can be. My concern is that we’re too quick to help someone else figure out what that is for them rather than simply being there with them in that journey. I think sometimes when we rush that, we keep people from really being able to see the good for themselves.

  • Michelle Woodman

    Word.

    And it’s *so* hard sometimes to do sometimes (and I have failed in it often myself), but when someone is just there for you without trying to fix everything or you can be there for them — just be there for and with them — well. It can be the best thing in the middle of the crap-fest. Because often you just need to know you’re not alone.

    • http://www.alise-write.com Alise Wright

      Yes, the power of knowing that someone else will be there with you, no matter how gross it gets, is something that we strongly underestimate.

  • http://somewiseguy.com/ ThatGuyKC

    Amen.

    Life is messy and that’s okay.

    I have a few friends going through a hard time and it’s difficult to resist the urge to try and comfort them with platitudes. I want to “fix” what is “broken” in their lives, but that’s between them and God.

    The power of presence during the bumps on the road of life is immeasurable.

    Thank you, Alise. :)

    • http://www.alise-write.com Alise Wright

      I think our desire to fix is borne from love, almost all the time. But it’s usually not something for in the middle of the bad. Of course, that’s when we want to, because that’s when it’s the most uncomfortable. Brokenness can be tough to sit with.

  • http://twitter.com/EveryBreathBlog Jennifer Hoffman

    This is so beautiful and potentially life changing, Alise. I know that this is the most powerful way to demonstrate Love.

    Some of the best advice I ever heard on how to respond to other people’s sadness is “Deal with your own sadness in such a way that enables you to be in the presence of someone else’s sadness without needing to push it away.” So true, but so hard. It means facing my hurts, addressing my fears and asking the painful questions. I’m never more aware of my emotional immaturity than when I hear those platitudes, like “God has a plan” roll of my toungue.

  • kalim

    Just as the summer and autumn are followed by winter, so the summer of youth and autumn of old age are followed by the winter of the grave and Intermediate Realm. If there was a cinema which showed the events of fifty years in the future, the same as those of fifty years ago are shown in the present, and the people of misguidance and vice were to be shown their circumstances of fifty or sixty years hence, they would weep in horror and disgust at their unlawful pleasures and those things at which they now laugh.
    11.th Ray, from Risalei-Nur Collection by Said Nursi

  • http://twitter.com/bethanykj BethanyKeeley-Jonker

    Great post Alise. This has some nice points of contact with my recent Think Christian piece (if you don’t mind my self-promotion, here’s the link: http://thinkchristian.net/tig-notaro-comedy-cancer-and-community )

    One life lesson I arrived at recently is that being a friend to someone going through something difficult doesn’t mean you have to be “strong” for them or cheerful, though sometimes those things are welcome. Crying alongside someone can make them feel validated and less alone. Jesus wept over Lazarus’ death before he raised him from the dead.

    I still fear other people’s emotions, but I’m trying to train myself away from avoidance and toward sympathy, for exactly the reasons you say here. It’s not easy.

  • http://twitter.com/ryanromusic RYAN RO

    Some time ago I read a blog/letter from a well-known christian musician couple. They had lost their baby. The post was cheerful, talking about God’s will and the joy and love of God and how everything works out for the good and I think ended on a smiley.

    I was so angry. I kept thinking, would it kill you to just admit you’re fucking HURTING. Angry. Upset. Broken. Would it kill your ‘image’ and ‘reputation’ to acknowledge that things suck sometimes? Maybe it wasn’t even about that, but what they’ve been taught and believe, what’s in this post, put on the good face… it just made me so mad. Allow yourself to feel, be human, be pissed off… let people see that you’re real. *shrugs*

    • http://www.inamirrordimly.com/ Ed_Cyzewski

      Yeah, that letter threw me for a loop too. It was like they felt like it wasn’t cool to just publicly mourn, which is ironic because the Bible is full of people openly mourning.

  • http://www.leighkramer.com/ HopefulLeigh

    You don’t even know how much I needed this reminder, Alise. The next few days will be filled with those platitudes. Instead of getting angry at them, I’m going to cling to my friends who weep with me and want to support me during this time. And most of all, I’m going to cling to God’s innate goodness because though these circumstances suck, I will not let my faith be hijacked by a prosperity gospel.

    • http://twitter.com/AmberWack Amber Wackford

      “…I will not let my faith be hijacked…” — yes, exactly that!

  • http://rawfaithrealworld.wordpress.com/ RawFaith

    Life can be such a mishmash of wonder and craptasticness. This week I had one of the worst weeks I’ve had in a long time. The mixture of owing taxes, my hubands stage 4 cancer sturggle, my work exhaustion, not having enough music students and a bunch of other stuff did me in. I was just really overwhelmed and sad for so many reasons. In the midst of it I had a birthday and I was reminded that last year there was a big question about whether I would see another one. So I did celebrate that in my facebook feed… the bright spot in the midst of it all.

    When I mentioned on facebook yesterday that I would probably be selling some instruments to pay the tax bill, I had lots of “helpful” messages that made me want to scream, including private messages about how I needed to set up my business differently and put my husband on staff to fix all my tax problems… except for that pesky he might be dying thing that no one seems to acknowledge.

    I learned years ago that the best thing I can do for someone is to walk through the valley with them. Most of the time I’m not giving advice or platitudes. I let them talk and hold them when they need to cry. I have a bunch of boxes of kleenex in my teaching room because sometimes there is more crying than music making going on even at music lessons. Everyone carries some pain and a pool of grief with them. There is something amazingly sacred about having the opportunity to share that with people. We do life together. We can bawl our brains out, and then also celebrate those small victories. It is good to rejoice together over the good. But it is so important to share the hard stuff together too. Having to hide my brokenness and pain in this season of my life is a burden that would be too big for me to bear.
    When I mentioned on facebook yesterday that I would probably be selling some instruments to pay the tax bill, I had lots of “helpful” messages that made me want to scream, including private messages about how I needed to set up my business differently and put my husband on staff to fix all my tax problems… except for that pesky he might be dying thing that no one seems to acknowledge.
    I learned years ago that the best thing I can do for someone is to walk through the valley with them. Most of the time I’m not giving advice or platitudes. I let them talk and hold them when they need to cry. I have a bunch of boxes of kleenex in my teaching room because sometimes there is more crying than music making going on even at music lessons. Everyone carries some pain and a pool of grief with them. There is something amazingly sacred about having the opportunity to share that with people. We do life together. We can bawl our brains out, and then also celebrate those small victories. It is good to rejoice together over the good. But it is so important to share the hard stuff together too. Having to hide my brokenness and pain in this season of my life is a burden that would be too big for me to bear.

  • Destiny Baker

    So true! My mom passed away from Lou Gehrig’s Disease 3 weeks ago. My husband called me while driving there to tell me, and I assured I could drive. Until I hung up. I called my closest friend and asked her to stay on the phone with me until I arrived at my sister’s house to tell her, and pick her up. She said she was so sorry, and didn’t know what else to say. I said there isn’t anything to say, I just needed her to stay on the phone with me until I made it to my sister’s house. That evening she came over to my house and helped me clean so company didn’t visit me in a messy house. And sang at the funeral. She didn’t need to say anything. Her presence was enough. And I will never forget it.

  • pastordt

    AMEN, sister-friend. (Now I get your ADS post earlier today. :>) Preach it.

  • http://twitter.com/AmberWack Amber Wackford

    Seriously, seriously well said! I’m so grateful that you’re not one to mince words. :)

  • Guest

    This was very powerful. Thank you for sharing it. I’ve never been much for platitudes…they always seemed hollow and not helpful, and not a little bit self-righteous – “If you were as spiritual as I am, you’d see how God can make good out of this.” So I get that part. Where I am so convicted is in my desire to solve the problem. I’m a guy. Stereotypical as all get-out. And I want to find concrete solutions to make it suck less. I just had to deal with this with a friend whose parents are getting divorced after 40+ years of marriage because his father had an affair. It’s the hardest thing in the world not to offer advice. And I didn’t win that battle entirely. But I did a lot of “dude, that SUCKS” with him. Sometimes there’s nothing else to say.

  • http://shackbible.wordpress.com/ John Stonecypher (Shack Bible)

    Well said! I am learning to resist the urge to spout platitude-shit, and instead just say: “Wow, that really sucks.” Or I do the Doctor Who thing: “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  • Sarah Moon

    :)

  • http://www.fromtwotoone.com/ from two to one

    Since I’m only half-evangelical having grown up Catholic and then attended conservative Protestant camps/churches, I’m bifurcated in my experiences with these empty platitudes. On one hand, the Catholic Church taught me the depth of what it means to lament, to cry out to God with all of our shit — the snot running down your face kind of crying out — and to dive into the darkness in order to see the Light (think Good Friday services). On the other hand, I learned during my adolescent years in evangelicalism that it wasn’t okay to express this pain — almost as if it was sinful because then it meant that you weren’t “in the Word enough” or “not consistent with devotions” and somehow less of an example of Christ when in reality, Jesus wept bitterly and in agony and in silence and in getting angry. We should do the same.

  • http://teamaidan.wordpress.com/ Heather Bowie

    So true and bears repeating over and over. Simply BEING with someone in pain can speak so much more than words would ever say.

  • http://ear-sword-miracle.blogspot.com/ Miles O’Neal

    Yes! Our culture today (western thought in general, but especially the American Church at Large) says we have to have all the answers. Nope. God has the answers. That doesn’t mean I know or understand them all.
    We’re called to love, first and foremost. Everything else comes second. Platitudes are somewhere in the bottom 100 of A Million Effective Things To Help The Hurting. So is Having All The Answers. So is Fixing The Problem.

  • http://modernreject.com Modern Reject

    Alise,
    Yes and yes. Pleasantries and shallow Christian-isms do not stop the hurt. And things like “God wont give you more than you can handle, is just bad theology.” He will give you a hell of a lot more than you can handle. Jesus didn’t “handle” the cross.

    I think of Job’s friends sitting down next to him after he lost everything one can imagine: “Then they sat on the ground with him for seven days and seven nights. No one said a word to him, because they saw how great his suffering was.” Job 2:13

  • The Unapologetic Prophet

    Edited by blog owner

    My friend, Jesus never promised us a rose garden. But you know this. Brava, sister. As a not-so-subtle reminder of what pain really is: Consider being God the Father and purposely killing Your Son for a humanity that basically hates You. It’s all about perspective, isn’t it?

    I agape you, my friend. Your post was believable.

  • http://twitter.com/tamaraoutloud Tamára Lunardo

    Thank you. xo

  • http://www.gabbingwithgrace.com/ Grace at {Gabbing with Grace}

    Amen. It really is those little things that ride us through. It really is.

  • http://twitter.com/KTLaBlanc Kirsten

    thank you for writing this. I need to remember to hold those who are hurting and weep with those who are weeping. I had forgotten.

  • Julie

    Love this. Thank you.

  • http://steadilyskippingstones.com/ skippingstones

    I just found out that my aunt has cancer – one to 12 months, they said. I don’t know what to say. I feel that overwhelming need to make it okay, to say the right thing, to make her pain and suffering go away. But that’s impossible. I always say the wrong thing, and I’m trying so hard to be silent and supportive, to say I love you and this sucks and leave out the platitudes. And I’ve been in a denial this week, that it’s not really true, that it won’t come to that, that there will be a miracle. Because God can do that. In the meantime, I stayed away. My fear of not knowing what to say and how to handle myself shut me off from my aunt and uncle who have done so much for me. Tonight I called and just said I love you. And that was enough – in fact, it’s as much as I can probably ever really offer them. My uncle said, “Call back tomorrow and love us again.”

  • http://lovingfromtheinsideout.blogspot.com Connie

    OMG, Yes. As an (already-disillusioned, IFB-&-childhood-abuse surviving) unwedded widow–my fiance passed suddenly at age 34–I can only just say YES to all of this.