Sitting in the Ashes

Sometimes I wonder if I’ve learned anything from my physical frustrations. Sometimes I wonder why my body feels much older than it is. Sometimes I wonder if anything good has come from the place of discomfort, pain, and fear.

But good things have come. I’ve learned. Slowly, but still. Progress is good.

One thing I’ve learned about is humility. I do not have all the answers. In fact, I have very few of them. But we like to think we’ve got it all figured out, don’t we? Ever notice how when we hear of someone’s struggle, one of our first responses is to rush in with our advice and insight?

Most of the time there are good intentions. We want to lighten someone’s load, give them hope, help solve their problem. But before we do that, perhaps we should step back and remind ourselves that they are probably already doing everything in their power to fix their situation.

Yes, sometimes we know just the thing to do. There is a place for advice giving. But that place does not open up until we have opened our hearts to true empathy, and have sat in the ashes of someone else’s pain.

Only when we speak from a heart of love will our ideas and experiences be heard. Before we gift suggestions, we must first gift a hand to hold, a shoulder to cry on, or sometimes just literally sitting with someone in silence, acknowledging their suffering. It’s more than enough to just show up.

Then we come quietly, not with our wisdom, but God’s. We gently whisper reminders of truth. We sing hymns in the dark. We pray. Then – and only then – can we offer our resources.

We offer in humility, ready for our suggestions to be taken or rejected. We offer our knowledge and advice without threats or accusations and insinuations. And then we sit quietly again to reassure them we’ll be there, no matter what.

I learned that from suffering.

While having miscarriages I had so many people come at me with suggestions, and ideas. Some came politely. Others came with rude insinuations and without any kind of credibility. Do not offer advice for something you have no understanding of. Don’t offer your knowledge with arrogance and intimidation.

It really is better to say nothing than to say all the wrong things. There is a time for correction, but really think it through before you speak.

Perhaps the most influence you can have will come from saying nothing at all, but rather in silence, to sit down in the dusty mess of ashes and look up, crying out to the One who is Sovereign over all and Whose purposes are in motion.

He sits with us. He sustains us. And He teaches us to eminate His deep, compassionate love.

Sometimes that’s with life-giving words and reminders of truth. Other times, it is by simply being where we’re needed with the right heart.

Forget your tool kit of “fix it’s”. Grab your sackcloth. Leave your pride. Bring His compassion.

Sit in the ashes. There, God’s Grace grows freely, breathing life into all who are near.

© Grace Baeten 2022