Bountiful Comfort
How Comfort Multiplies
2 Corinthians 1:4
“Get ready for my vent!” she announced. Filled with tense emotion, my friend leaned across the table toward me as we talked over lunch. Her brown eyes widened with tears as she unloaded the burden drowning her heart. I listened to each complaint, laced with worry, frustration, and sorrow. After dumping her emotional load in the middle of our tacos, she plopped back into her seat with a deep sigh. We sat in silence for a moment—friend with friend. My eyes held her sad and angry gaze as I silently prayed for words that would lift her up even a tiny bit. I feared minimizing her feelings or treading on aching emotions with cliche platitudes. I longed to tell her everything would be okay, but that felt empty and maybe untrue. How could I comfort her?
Lessons on Comfort
As I pondered the question, a familiar Bible passage came to mind. I leaned on what the apostle Paul wrote in a letter to the Christ-followers in Corinth regarding his deep experience with suffering. Paul counseled, “He comforts us in all our affliction so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any kind of affliction, through the comfort we ourselves receive from God.” (Emphasis mine.)
I noticed how “comfort” appears front and center in Paul’s statement emphasized by the triple repetition. The word in the original language means “called to one’s side to console, encourage, and instruct.” Within Paul’s concise sentence, I found a mini-tutorial on comforting:
God is the source of my comfort. I give comfort by drawing from the source: God’s promises and presence as experienced in my own life.
God comforts me in “all” my afflictions. I take confidence that no situation extends beyond where God can touch us with his comfort.
My pain contains an opportunity “so that” I can comfort others. God takes my broken pieces and molds a vessel of comfort for others as he rebuilds me.
My comfort can apply to “any kind” of affliction. Sharing how I received comfort from God matters more than experiencing the same circumstances.
God multiplies the comfort he gives me. God transforms my pain into a bounty of purpose as I pass comfort from my life to another’s—and then on and on in abundant multiplication.
Insights instead of Stories
As my friend and I discarded our leftover chips and refilled our ice teas, we picked up the conversation. Recalling Paul’s counsel, I pushed aside my fear of inadequate words and admitted my lack of experience with the situation that overwhelmed her. Wrapped in the empathy of remembering my own times of flooding anguish, I affirmed the anger and exhaustion she must feel. Before speaking further, I paused to reflect back on some tough periods in my life. Then, instead of reciting my stories of hardship, I focused on the lessons God taught me through them. I talked of gaining stronger faith in the process, even though I often stumbled and grumbled along the way. I expressed gratitude for God’s presence coming alongside me in my mess. I reassured her that he led me to a better place every time.
As we continued to talk, the tightness in her expression relaxed a bit. Even if not ready to embrace it, she seemed to hear that God brings purpose from any pain he allows—to bless her and ultimately others through her.
“...answers don’t necessarily provide comfort. Answers can explain, but they don’t erase the cause of the pain.”
Reassurance instead of Answers
My friend’s complicated situation may never focus into a clear picture of how her painful circumstances will weave together. But then, answers don’t necessarily provide comfort. Answers can explain, but they don’t erase the cause of the pain. I believe what lifted her countenance, just a little, came through reassurance and hope. The reassurance that God still guided her life and the hope that good purposes could result—both for herself and as an offering of compassion to others.
We finished the conversation without fixing her problem. The pearl of profound wisdom lay undiscovered and the “ah ha!” moment of insight eluded us. But I understood better how to pray for her heart’s needs, and I hoped she felt heard and cared for. As God has done for me, he allowed me to come alongside her with compassion in a rough spot. Sometimes the best comfort comes from company, not words. So, in the end, we shared companionship at the table of life’s sufferings where everyone partakes, ready to pass on a plate of comfort to the next guest.