On Behalf of My Hurting Friends

I don't typically write with any particular 'audience' in mind.  My blog is a journal of my thoughts and feelings.  It's for my 'benefit' - a place to think out loud - a place to organize my thoughts.  But it's also a place to share with whoever may care to read about what's going on with me.

Through this blog, I've made some new friends.  Other hurting moms.  Moms who've lost babies or children.  I should update my 'blogroll' to include them.  I want to include them.  I love them.  :-)

Yesterday, I made another new friend.  I'm glad to 'know' her, but I wish more than anything that she'd never stumbled across my blog, and that she'd never been able to relate to what I've written, and that she'd never had to type out the word 'diagnosis' in reference to her baby.

My new friend has just recently received a poor prognosis for her unborn baby.  

I feel like there should be a great big space of nothing - just *silence* - after that sentence.  Space for tears.

We've only exchanged a couple of emails, but after reading about where she is right now, as well as having read about my other friends' experiences, I'm motivated to write *this* post.  

This road - the hurting one - can be lonely.  Very lonely.

This is where I deviate from the norm.  I'm no longer journalling.  I'm writing to... whoever happens to be reading.  You.  The 'audience'. 

'Disclaimer' #1:  This isn't meant to sound like a 'rebuke'.  Or like I'm venting.  This truly is an urgent plea, if you will.  The written word can be hard to interpret, so please 'hear' all of the following words with the gentlest tone possible.

'Disclaimer' #2:  I can't speak for all hurting people everywhere.  Everybody hurts differently.  But for the ones who hurt the way I have/do...

'Disclaimer' #3:  I am guilty of not doing exactly what I'm about to encourage all of you to do.

Here goes.  *Deep breath, Shannon.*

If you have a friend who is hurting deeply, *be her friend*.

These are great things to do for your hurting friend:  

• Pray for her from the privacy of your home. (I'm all for this.  Please DO pray for her.)
• Think about her often.  (This, too, is great.  To be thought of.)
• Cry for her when you think about her. (Because the tears of a friend mean more than anything.)
• Offer to help.  (Offering is never a bad idea.)
• Send her an email.  (Receiving a quick note from a friend really can 'help'.)

There is absolutely nothing wrong with doing any of those things.  They are good.  Kind.  Loving.  Meaningful.

But there's more you can do.

I think when I say *be her friend*, I mean GO and be her friend.

• Go over to her house, stand on her doorstep, knock, and when (if) she opens the door, cry with her.  
• Tell her that you're going to help.  And then tell her how you're going to help.  And then, help.  If she has children, say 'I'm taking my kids to the park, and I'm taking yours with me.  Which morning this week can I come and pick them up?'
• Take her a meal that she can either throw in the oven that day or freeze.  Just take it to her house and hand it to her.  Then hug her (tightly), and tell her you love her.  Take it when you have no pressing engagements afterwards.  Be ready to stay and talk/cry/listen, or be ready to leave if your hurting friend needs to be alone.
• If you don't know what to say, tell her that.  It's ok to not know what to say.  
• If you want to ask questions but you're afraid it'll upset her, ask.  Say, 'I've been wanting to ask you about some things - are you ok with talking right now?  Or would you rather not?'
• If you want to pray with her but aren't sure if she's even ok that, ask.

Just love your friend.  Go clean her house.  Sit in her living room with her (and whatever mess has accumulated).  Ask her to go get coffee.  If she says 'yes' to coffee, ask her when you can pick her up.  If you're not sure if she wants to 'talk about it' or if she would rather have a distraction, ask.  If she wants to be distracted, just make conversation.  About anything.  Your dog, the weather, the neighbor who makes for interesting conversation.  Anything.  If she's hurting anything like I have been hurting, I can tell you firsthand - it doesn't really matter what you say.  Just carry the conversation.  Pay attention to what she's not saying - if you can't figure out what she needs when you're with her, ask.  And if she can't verbalize it and just cries instead, hug her and/or cry with her.

If your friend is in hell (whatever kind of 'hell' it might be), jump in with her.  Jump into her hell.  Without the intention of dragging her out.  Just jump in.  

Hell is lonely.

I think the reason it's lonely is that people don't know what to say.  Or they're afraid of saying the wrong thing.  And, I'll admit, 'hell' isn't a fun place.  It's not fun to hang out with your friend in her hell.  I think most people avoid another person's hell out of fear.  

This can feel like abandonment to the hurting person.

And although I'm certain that no one is intentionally abandoning the hurting person...

(very hesitantly and quietly) I'm not sure that many people are intentionally loving the hurting person.

Don't be afraid of the hurting hell place.

Your friend needs you.  She needs to not be alone.

I am absolutely not claiming to be any kind of expert on hurting or grief or this worldly 'hell' that some people have to endure.  But, I know a small piece of it.  

So GO.  Love your hurting friend.  Not from where it's 'comfortable'.  But in her very uncomfortable, lonely, dark, deeply aching place.

**I should say that I have a few friends who have done this for me.  Who have jumped into my hell with me.  Especially over the last several months.  Thank you, dear friends.  :-)  I love you.