A Friend In The Midst Of Our Pain.

What a friend we have in Jesus,
All our sins and griefs to bear,
What a privilege to carry,
Everything to God in prayer
Oh, what peace we often forfeit,
Oh, what needless pain we bear,
All because we do not carry,
Everything to God in prayer.

Many of us are familiar with the words of that well-loved hymn. I remember my mother once telling me it was her favourite. I played it on the piano at my grandmother’s funeral, and I now understand that the words carry more than just soppy and sentimental value. Jesus is our friend who sticks closer than a brother. However, so many of those whom I love deeply aren’t enjoying that friendship. And I wonder, is that perhaps because they are looking for the wrong things?

I recently completed a study of the book of Job. This can be a hard read for many reasons, and it often raises a lot of questions. Why would a so-called loving God allow this good man to suffer? Why put him through such a gruelling test? In Job chapter 1, God gives Satan permission to attack his servant, although he insists on a boundary. In verse 12, God says Satan can do whatever he wants with Job’s possessions, but he mustn’t harm Job physically. In chapter 2, God widens the boundary still further, saying Satan can now attack Job’s health. The only thing Satan may not do is kill him.

The first time I read this, it felt cruel. After all, it was God who had brought Job to Satan’s attention when he asked if Satan had considered his servant Job. Why would a loving God who desires to be the great friend I had always sung about want to do this? I wouldn’t do that to my friends.

As we read further, Job is afflicted by horror after horror. He loses his possessions, his children, his health, and his wife finally tells him he might as well just curse God and die. The hedge of protection he had always enjoyed has been brought down with an almighty crash, and Job sits alone and full of grief, until three friends come to comfort him. Amazingly, they sit alongside him for seven silent days, just sharing in his pain.

I always pause here, because for me, that is the mark of a true friend. Sometimes, when my friends are in trouble, I don’t have any answers. Obviously, I would love to just fix things and sweep it all away, but I can’t. Does that mean my helplessness should push me away from those I love? Should I distance myself because their problems are too great and I am powerless to help them? I believe the opposite is true. This is what I desire of my friends, and it is also the type of friend I desire to be. A true friend will just sit with you in your pain, holding your hand, crying with you, and entering into your helplessness.

Why is it that today we have fallen into the trap of believing that if there’s nothing we can do, we should do nothing? Why do we distance ourselves from the suffering of others when they need us most? And why do we push away the closest friend of all? Some of my loved ones chose to walk away from their faith in God because of this very issue of pain and suffering. They believe that if God is who he says he is, he should stop all the suffering in the world, in their families, in their lives. They believe they were fed a lie, and so they turn their backs on him.

Job never did that. Throughout his suffering, despite his complaints and his straight talk, he never turned his back on the only one who could truly help. I believe there was a fourth friend sitting on the ground with Job, and when the other three started speaking the empty words that fill up most of the rest of the book, that fourth friend remained silent until near the end. And when he finally speaks, he didn’t have the answers Job wanted, but he reminded Job of who he was, of his power, his might, his absolute control, and his absolute trustworthiness.

I see God’s love in the book of Job both in the chapters of God’s silence and those during which God finally speaks. I, too, have been through seasons of silent suffering. I asked my why questions, just as Job did, but when I allowed my greatest friend to come and sit alongside me, I was comforted amid my pain. Even though things didn’t always change, his very presence enabled me to keep putting one foot in front of the other and face up to living through another day. Without him, I can’t imagine where I’d be today.

I still have unanswered questions about the book of Job, but I know God isn’t cruel. He isn’t playing with our lives and emotions, and he loves us far more than we could ever understand.

Another story comes to mind. Jesus stands beside the tomb of his friend Lazarus, who has been dead for three days. Jesus knew Lazarus was gravely ill. He could have come to his rescue and healed him. Yet he remained where he was, knowing Lazarus would die.

Then, finally, he comes to his friend, and it is here that we find the well-loved verse containing only two words. “Jesus wept.” (John 11: 35.)

Growing up in Sunday school, I was told this is the shortest verse in the Bible, but I didn’t realise then what an impact it would have on me as an adult. You might want to skip ahead in the story, knowing the outcome. If you’ve read it before, you know Jesus is going to raise Lazarus, that everything will be all right in the end. But let’s stay here at the tomb surrounded by the dead man’s grieving family. His two sisters are heartbroken. They know Jesus could have come and spared them this suffering, but do they push him away? They are honest about their thoughts and feelings, but they are still glad to have him beside them. They would rather face this pain and grief with Jesus than without him.

Jesus is God come in the flesh. He is the Almighty, and he knows what’s going to happen. He knows that soon, Lazarus will be alive again and everyone will be rejoicing. But what does he do? He doesn’t minimise their pain. He enters into it. he weeps with those who weep. And when the Jews around him see his pain, they say, “See how much he loved him.” (John 11: 36.) I find it interesting that they didn’t say this after Jesus raised Lazarus, but before.

Jesus showed his love by weeping. He showed his care by coming alongside a grieving family and weeping with them.

Have we trials and temptations?
Is there trouble anywhere?
We should never be discouraged,
Take it to the Lord in prayer,
Can we find a friend so faithful
Who will all our sorrows share?
Jesus knows our every weakness,
Take it to the Lord in prayer.

The older I become, the more I realise that this is the type of Lord I desire, one who understands my weaknesses and feels my pain. Obviously, there will always be a tiny part of me that longs for him to take the pain away, but I am learning to value the faithful friendship of the one who sits with me in my sorrow, who holds my hand, who comforts me during my suffering and doesn’t just appear with a magic wand to guarantee the outcome. This type of Jesus is more real to me than the Mr Fix It kind. This Jesus is more of a friend.

I cannot guarantee the outcome of your pain and suffering. Perhaps your loved one will be healed. Perhaps they won’t. Maybe your mourning will turn into joy, or the season of crying will last longer than you feel you can bear, but if you allow him to, your most loyal and devoted friend will sit with you in your pain. Talk to him. Allow him to draw close. Experience the comfort of his arms around you. yes, he can take the pain away with one word, but if that doesn’t happen right now, it’s not because he doesn’t love you. One of the greatest tragedies is that the enemy of our souls wants to use our pain to cause us to doubt the very existence of the person who desires to hold us while we \cry.