I am writing to you because I know you’re hurting, and you know that I know you’re hurting, but every time I see you I feel like all I do is add awkwardness to the pain by saying nothing or mumbling one of those despised cliches. I’m so sorry. I so very much want to be a good friend to you through this, but I feel like a moose in a strait jacket: clumsy and clueless.
I have never been through what you’re going through, but even if I had I would not know exactly how you’re feeling. I want to honor your privacy, but at the same time I know that pain can be really lonely and so I want to be your friend through this… I just don’t know how.
Please teach me to be your friend through this. I don’t want to talk about the past if it reminds you of happier times and intensifies this present sadness. I don’t want to talk about the future if it makes you feel anxious. I don’t want to talk about me – I feel guilty sometimes for having it so easy while you are in the midst of the furnace. And of course, I don’t want to make you talk about you – this is consuming enough for you already. And yet we’ve always been able to talk. So educate me. Let me know if it’s a talking day, or an eating-cherries-silently-day. I’m all for animal conservation, but lets not have any elephants-in-the-room.
Let me know how I can pray for you, if I forget to ask.
Let me know if I can watch your kids, mail a parcel, or bring you a latte, if I forget to ask.
Because I love you and I’m so sorry you’re going through this. Whack me on the head if I turn into that awkward cliche-drooling friend again. I want to do better than that.
I’m with you and for you,