I’m a fixer. By nature, I want to fix every problem that comes across my desk and when I can’t find a good solution it often causes me to feel like, well a failure. For some reason, I think that I have to be able to offer help, real – tangible help in each and every situation. But that’s just not true! Sometimes the best help is just be there. 

I remember back to some of my early days in the ministry. I remember sitting helplessly by the bedside of a man on one of my first hospital visits. The ventilator was breathing for him. A machine was keeping his heart beating in the proper rhythm. His wife was a shattered mess beside his bed. She wanted something, anything. She wanted consolation and assurance that he’d be ok. She wanted me to do something. And I desperately wanted to be able to help her. I quickly went through every memory I had from seminary. I tried to recall every bible verse I had ever memorized. I pulled out my little pastor’s handbook and looked for the right prayer. What could I do? I had to help!

Unfortunately not every situation is a situation in which we need to act. Not every crisis is one for us to manage. Not every problem is a problem that we need to solve. This is not something I was taught in school. This was one I had to learn in the school of life. As I sit in my office writing this, I’m recalling the past 15 years of ministry. How many times have I totally blew it by trying to do something when all that was needed was for me to be there? How many times has there been too many words and too little silence?

I don’t know why but when we don’t know what to do to help, we just start puking up every well-intentioned word we know. We quote bible verses out of passage. We weird things that really offer no consolation at all. We tread the thin ice of questions like what did he do to deserve this and why is God punishing him like this. We know these aren’t the right thoughts but goodness we have to do something! Don’t we?

The short answer here is no. No, we don’t have to do anything! I’m reminded of the story of Job in the Bible. His life was a wreck and that’s putting it mildly. He lost everything and everyone in his life. At the beginning, his friends just sat there bewildered by the horrific scene. They were just there. They sat silently by his side. They sipped iced-tea with him on the front porch and just let him know they were there. But one thing added on top of another until eventually there was mountain of devastation before them. They had to do something, anything! So they started to fill the moments of silent friendship with empty words of problem fixing.

The hardest lesson I’ve ever learned in life is what I call the ministry of presence. It’s nothing I was taught in school. No conference gave me this insight. It only became real when I had nothing left to say. When I finally shut up and just sat, that’s when I learned the greatest lesson of my life – being is better than doing or talking. The ministry of presence is the simplest and hardest thing you’ll ever do. It’s simple because it requires no action or word on your part. It’s hard because it means you have to fight every temptation to come up with some word or phrase or idea of how to fix the problem.

As I remember that man lying in his bed with his wife by his side, all I wanted was to do something. But there was nothing I could do. I just sat and prayed. I prayed God would take the pain. I prayed God would make him well. In that moment, the man died. The very second I finished the prayer the buzzers sounded and beeps filled the room. His earthly life was over. His widow was crushed. I couldn’t do any more. I just sat and held her while she cried.

The greatest action we sometimes can perform is to sit in silence and let our presence speak volumes. Perhaps today you’ll be struggling for the right words. Perhaps you’ll be looking for the fix to the problem. Maybe, just maybe, the fix that’s needed is less words and more silence.