When Words Fail

I believe that I have a very specific set of skills. I may not have many technical abilities aside from tricking iMovie into doing things that it doesn't normally do. I don't have much in the way of physical talents aside from tallness, which is not really an ability so much as a description. Now, before you think that this is one of these pity party posts (alliteration no intended), I want to let it be known that I am growing more and more comfortable with that. I like that I have a special way with words and stories. I am very good with the word putting together ability skill. Both on stage and offstage. I love teaching and explaining. I love comforting people. I love debating. I love making people laugh.

Mind you, I can get kind of angsty and overly melodramatic with words if I'm not careful and come off sounding like an idiot with too soft of a heart. Maybe I am. But that is also what allows me to sympathize with people and be able to defend people.

I feel one of my strong suits is certain arenas of communication. Another is sorting through hard questions of theology and life. I don't like to shy away from reflection and wrestling.

That's why it sucks to be in a situation where you know you have no words to give. A situation where words are ineffective. It's hard when someone is in the middle of something and the only answer at the end of the night is to leave the situation in tension and pray.

I have found myself to be one of those fixer personalities. If I see something broken and I can see how it can be different, I want to fix it. And I get frustrated when I can't. My heart aches in those situations. There is nothing more aggravating than seeing the troubled spirit in the eyes of someone you care about and having nothing that will fix it. You can't swap with them. You can't give them anything. You can't do much. It's one of those limitations of being human that in the end, that only those involved and God can sort out.

The problem then becomes, what can I do? Once my words fail me, I don't know what to do. A hug? Assurance that things will work out? Sit in silence with the person? What does it mean to be there for them? I am afraid of saying or doing something wrong and I am afraid of doing nothing at all.

"A heart that's full up like a landfill
A job that slowly kills you
Bruises that won't heal
You look so tired and unhappy
Bring down the government
They don't, they don't speak for us
I'll take a quiet life
A handshake of carbon monoxide
No alarms and no surprises"
- "No Surprises" from the Radiohead's "OK Computer"