We either have been, or will be, put in the position of
comforting someone who is in grief. That is an important
role played by good friends. The most common question
I hear on such occasions is, "What should I say?" We
want to help, but we feel helpless to make a difference
in the face of such tragedy. I have often remembered a
story told by Joseph Baylys when I struggle to say the
"right thing" to someone who is hurting.

Mr. Baylys lost three children to death over the course
of several years. He wrote a book called, *The View From
A Hearse*, in which he talks about his grief He says this
about comforting those who grieve:

"I was sitting, torn by grief. Someone came and talked to
me of God's dealings, of why it happened, of hope beyond
the grave. He said things I knew were true. I was unmoved,
except to wish he would go away. He finally did. Someone
else came and sat beside me. He didn't talk. He didn't ask
leading questions. He just sat with me for an hour or more,
listened when I said something, answered briefly, prayed
simply, left. I was moved. I was comforted. I hated to see
him go."

I have found Joseph Baylys experience to be excruciatingly
typical. Both men wanted to help. Both men cared. But only
one truly comforted. The difference was this:

One tried to make him feel better. The other just let him feel.
One tried to say the right things. The other listened. One told
him it would be all right. The other shared his pain.

When put in the difficult position of comforting someone in
emotional pain, sometimes what needs to be said can be
said best with a soft touch or a listening ear. It may not
seem like much, but it can be more than you will ever know.