This week the story in Luke 5, in which the friends of the paralyzed man got creative when he needed to see Jesus, speaks to me. No, it shouts at me. "This is your life! Today you are one of the friends. One day you will be the cripple."
The Paralytic's Friends
The scene shows friends carrying a paralyzed man on his stretcher to the house where Jesus is teaching. Realizing the doorway was blocked and the room too crowded to push through, they refusing to take no for an answer. They climbed up to the flat roof and cut a hole in it so they could lower their friend into Jesus' presence. Owner and crowd be damned, they were going to get that man within reach of the Healer (Luke 5:18-20).
I like those friends. I want to be like that. I don't really want to be the paralyzed guy, but sometimes crap happens, and we are crippled by what life throws at us. Simple math, however, tells us that we will more often be supporting someone else in their trials.
To paraphrase Shrek, relationships are like onions -- they have layers. Strangers, acquaintances, friends, family, friends-like-family. Each kind meets a need in one's life and can be a blessing.
When my hubby and I first met, his best friend was married to a girl I worked with. A year later we married, and they had already morphed into "our" couple--unique friends that every new couple needs. Not his, not hers, but "ours." And then they moved away. Like, back to the East Coast where their family lived.
As the children came along--four for them, four for us--they became special to one another as well. We send birthday and Christmas boxes to each other. For 17 years, we have driven or flown a thousand miles to share summer vacations, special events, and difficult seasons with one another. We once left our kids with various grandparents and went on a cruise to celebrate my and my hubby's 10th anniversary (see photo). Just 10 days ago we confirmed our upcoming visit to see them in June. They qualify as "friends-like-family" standard after all these years.
So last week when their pastor called to tell us that their oldest son had died that night, we moved heaven and earth to get to them. The only question was "How fast can we get there?"
Carrying the Mat
This week it was our turn. We were privileged to be allowed in, to be invited to come close. I think we maybe held up one corner of "the mat" together, by just showing up.
Did we fix anything? Ha. As if that were even possible. All we could really do was be there. Such an inadequate feeling. But it's comforting to know that Jesus thought it fitting when his friend Lazarus died. He wept with Mary and Martha.
We listened and cried and prayed. We are still doing that. We loved that boy, too. My husband did laundry one day (did it even occur to me? Again I say Ha!). We kept them company, provided a diversion. I think we were just safe people for them.
Eventually we had to return home to our family, our regular responsibilities. But they are well loved, with others continuing to hold them up. Limited by distance, we text them (or their local friends to coordinate goodies, share concerns, etc), call (or leave voice mail), and pray (constantly). They know their Healer loves them and is even now working to comfort and heal.
In part two, I'll share more about those who enabled us to go.
Two Final Thoughts
First, if ever or whenever someone dear to you comes into suffering of any sort, err on the side of reaching out as opposed to doing nothing. You will know the dynamics of your relationship and what's appropriate. But don't let fear cause you to step back when they desperately need friends to step in.
Second, and on a lighter note, I want to ask you about your friendships. If you are married, do you have an "our" couple -- friends that you did not inherit from your spouse? How have you managed long-distance friendships? Share your creative solutions to the challenge to maintaining long-term friendships.
And a request: please pray for our friends. Even if you read this blog post randomly a year or more from now, they'll still need your prayers.