We are supposed to be able to comfort others with the same comfort we were given. We were supposed to learn from the journey through the valley of the shadow of death when we felt like we were losing everything.
But sometimes, our comfort seems small in the face of someone's hurt. It's not that we don't understand where they are because we have been in a situation so similar that it might as well be the same.
But we remember how lost we were. We remember how the pangs of death had seized us so tightly that we thought there was no hope. And we remember how hard it was to comfort us.
That doesn't absolve us from sharing the rays of hope we received. We just need to share with wisdom. We need to listen. We need to be gentle with our hope. As the wounds begin to heal, there is room for other sorts of comfort. But maybe today there is only room for handing the hurting a box of tissues.
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