Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn.”
Romans 12:15 (NIV)

Sometimes love doesn't stand above you and tell you to get back up.

Sometimes love gets down on the ground with you.

One afternoon, I was outside pulling weeds while my two-year-old daughter played nearby.

I grabbed a stubborn thistle growing through our fence and pulled so hard that I went flying backward into the grass.

My daughter saw me fall.

She stopped playing, got off her brand-new swing set, and came over to check on me.

Then she did something I wasn't expecting.

She fell down beside me.

She couldn't pull me back up.

She couldn't understand everything I had been carrying in that season.

She couldn't fix anything.

She was two.

But she could see her mama on the ground.

And in her own little way, it felt like she was saying:

If you're down here, Mommy, I'll be down here too.

As I looked at her lying beside me, I thought about the heart of Jesus.

How often do we assume God's presence means He will immediately remove whatever is hurting us?

We want Him to fix it.

Change it.

Take it away.

But sometimes the valley doesn't immediately disappear.

Sometimes the storm doesn't immediately stop.

And yet, somehow, we discover:

We are not there alone.

Psalm 34:18 says:

“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”

Close.

That's the heart of the Gospel.

God didn't look at broken humanity from a distance.

Jesus came near.

He entered our suffering.

He experienced rejection, grief, betrayal, loneliness, and pain.

He wept.

He suffered.

And ultimately, He went to the cross for us.

Jesus is not distant from our pain.

And if that's how Jesus loves us, maybe that's also how we're called to love one another.

Romans 12:15 doesn't tell us to explain someone's pain away.

It tells us to:

“Mourn with those who mourn.”

Sometimes the person who's hurting doesn't need you to have the perfect words.

They may not need you to fix anything.

Maybe they simply need someone willing to notice.

To call.

To pray.

To bring the meal.

To answer the text.

To sit in the uncomfortable silence.

To stay.

Sometimes love looks like presence.

And sometimes love gets down in the dirt.

Reflection

Who has been willing to sit with you during a difficult season?

Is there someone in your life right now who may need your presence more than your answers?

What would it look like to show them the love of Jesus today?

Prayer

Jesus,

Thank You for being the God who comes close.

Thank You for meeting us in our grief, disappointment, confusion, and pain.

Thank You for the people You've placed in our lives who have been willing to stay when life became difficult.

Help me become that kind of person for someone else.

Give me eyes to notice the person who's hurting.

Keep my heart tender enough to care and willing to be interrupted.

Teach me to rejoice with those who rejoice and mourn with those who mourn.

And when someone I love finds themselves on the ground, help me remember that I don't always need the right words.

Sometimes I simply need to show up.

In Jesus' name,
Amen.

Sacred Ordinary — Notice Him Today

Today, ask Jesus one simple question:

“Lord, who needs me to come close?”

Then pay attention to who comes to mind.

Maybe it's a friend who's been unusually quiet.

Your spouse.

Your child.

Someone at church.

Someone walking through grief.

Or someone you keep meaning to check on.

You don't have to fix what they're going through.

You don't need the perfect words.

Just take one small step toward them.

Send the text.

Make the call.

Bring the meal.

Pray for them—and if you can, pray with them right then.

Sit beside them.

Be willing to be interrupted.

My daughter left her brand-new swing set because she noticed someone she loved on the ground.

Today, look up from whatever your “swing set” may be and notice the person God has placed in front of you.

Because sometimes loving like Jesus is beautifully simple:

We notice.
We come close.
We stay.

Welcome home.