I am literally reading this through blurred vision from tear soaked eye sockets. Thank you Beau for this beautiful message, perfectly delivered for this #Advent season and the Story of Jesus
Beau, I think it’s the simple fact that you as a pastor seem to empathize so compassionately with we who have walked similar paths of religious wounding, disappointments, and are now diligently seeking to “stay” and to reconstruct the faith journey. Blessings to you as always! 🕊️
Beautiful! I recently completed some chaplaincy training and this sums it up so well. Those of us who come alongside are not there with all the answers but rather to be a comforting presence and an agent of hope
I love that this resonated with what you’ve been learning. You’re right - being a comforting presence and agent of hope is so much more powerful than showing up with all the answers. The world needs more people who understand that. Grateful for what you’re doing.
I really connected with this. Having lost an eight year old son and had two miscarriages, I pretty much heard it all. All the well meaning platitudes. But, oh, the pain they caused! I can totally relate to your statement about standing there silently when you really want to scream at them! No! God did not will this on my 2 1/2 year old son, nor did He cause the miscarriages. But He was there. Quiet. Caring. Crying with me. And it saved me. Saved my faith. I’m so sorry that you have journeyed through this pain. Thank you for sharing your story.
I can’t imagine the weight of that grief. And then having to stand there and absorb people’s terrible theology on top of it all. Thank you for seeing the difference between God causing our pain and God being present in it. That distinction saved my faith too. I’m so grateful for you and that you shared your story here.
1. "They let you feel like you’ve done something pastoral without the vulnerability of just being there". It became like a checklist of care items, ways in which we fooled ourselves into thinking we were helping the other person. In reality, we were patting ourselves on the back, dusting the dirt off our pants, and running towards our eternal goal of "well done, good and faithful servant". It was selfish and performative.
2. "The incarnation teaches us that presence is the point. That love shows up. That the gospel isn’t a set of answers we deliver from a distance, it’s a way of being with people in their pain". Love shows up. That's just it. Maybe we start extending the warm embrace out instead of patting ourselves on the back. Maybe we brush the bird nests out of their hair instead of dusting off our own pants. And maybe, we run towards them instead of running towards our eternal goal.
I love that you pulled these lines out - it means a lot that they connected with you in this way. Thank you for engaging with it so thoughtfully and letting it shape how you’re thinking about loving well. That’s everything.
I loved this with every fiber of my being. Just. Show. Up. I have a friend who just lost her 15yo I’ve been struggling with how to help. Thank you for the book suggestion
I’m so sorry about your friend’s daughter. Fifteen years old - that’s just devastating. I hope the book helps, but honestly, you already know the most important thing: just show up. Your presence will mean more than any words ever could. Holding you and your friend in my thoughts.
Loosing a child (in this case a young man) is not natural in any way no matter the age, no matter the cause or circumstances. It’s devastating. I’m so sorry for all the loss you have experienced.
Hi Beau, thanks for the great writing and the great explaining, and the willingness to confront the great conundrums of our faith expressed by a missing-the-mark humanity.
Amidst the pain of life sits our Savior. Hallelujah!
I’m learning the missing-the-mark of Evangelicalism. I’m not mainline, nor perhaps, ‘becoming mainline.’ But I’m certainly seeing how my brothers and sisters have developed a lot of weird doctrine. I’ve written many books that challenge the scriptural validity of evangelism practices. And my challenges have become too much for my elders—they finally pulled the rug out and pushed me to “retire” as pastor.
I’m glad to know I’m not the only one pushing back and standing up for our Lord as he is revealed in the Bible.
Randy, I’m really sorry about what happened with your elders. That’s a hard way to end a pastorate, especially when you’re doing the work of honest biblical engagement. Your voice and your questions matter, even when the system can’t handle them.
You’re not alone in this. Keep going, brother. Grateful for your presence here.
My stomach has always become twisted when I hear all the Christian cliches about loss and suffering. The quiet loving presence you describe is the lesson for me. How beautiful when that happens.
That twisted stomach feeling is real. I’m so glad this landed differently for you. There’s something profound about just being with someone without trying to fix or explain it all away. Thanks for sharing this.
I'm so sorry for your losses, Beau, including the loss of the faith in which you began your ministry. And yes, presence is the gift God gave to us, so that we can learn how to be present to each other. Blessings to you and your family.
Thank you so much for this. I really appreciate the kindness. And you’re right - presence really is at the heart of it all. Learning to show up for each other the way God shows up for us. That’s the good stuff. Blessings to you and your family as well.
My brother died of cancer at age 40, leaving a wife and two children. This occurred a couple of short years after my Dad died and another brother died on my 18th birthday. I’ve heard enough platitudes to fill a dictionary! Sad to say, I’ve also repeated them to others. I’ve never read anything like this before (and I read a lot!) so thank you from the bottom of my bruised little heart. This makes a difference. This is healing.
I’m so sorry. That’s a lot of loss to carry, and I can’t imagine how hollow so many words must have sounded along the way. Thank you for trusting me with your story - it means everything to know this landed differently for you. Your bruised little heart deserves better than platitudes, and I’m honored this could offer something closer to what you needed. Holding space for you.
When my daughter died a Jewish friend reminded me of the tradition of sitting Shiva. She knew that what we needed was not platitudes, not empty expressions of hope, but a silent friend who would sit with us as we mourned. Her quiet presence was worth more than all the words spoken by others.
I’m so sorry about your daughter. What a gift your friend gave you - she understood what you actually needed. There’s so much wisdom in that tradition, in just sitting together without the pressure to fix or explain. Thank you for sharing this. It’s a beautiful witness to what real presence looks like.
This is really well put and beautifully delivered. It reminds me of several things. One thing that often sticks with me in therapy is the notion that the real work doesn’t begin until there’s nothing you can do. It’s a reminder of the power of empathy and presence. In the book I’m working on, I write about grief and my whole theory of the case for “treating” grief is to be present in the absence. Really well said.
I am literally reading this through blurred vision from tear soaked eye sockets. Thank you Beau for this beautiful message, perfectly delivered for this #Advent season and the Story of Jesus
This means so much. Thank you for letting me know it connected. There’s something about this season that opens us up in ways we don’t always expect.
Beau, I think it’s the simple fact that you as a pastor seem to empathize so compassionately with we who have walked similar paths of religious wounding, disappointments, and are now diligently seeking to “stay” and to reconstruct the faith journey. Blessings to you as always! 🕊️
Thank you for sharing your pain and your incarnation.
Beautiful! I recently completed some chaplaincy training and this sums it up so well. Those of us who come alongside are not there with all the answers but rather to be a comforting presence and an agent of hope
I love that this resonated with what you’ve been learning. You’re right - being a comforting presence and agent of hope is so much more powerful than showing up with all the answers. The world needs more people who understand that. Grateful for what you’re doing.
I really connected with this. Having lost an eight year old son and had two miscarriages, I pretty much heard it all. All the well meaning platitudes. But, oh, the pain they caused! I can totally relate to your statement about standing there silently when you really want to scream at them! No! God did not will this on my 2 1/2 year old son, nor did He cause the miscarriages. But He was there. Quiet. Caring. Crying with me. And it saved me. Saved my faith. I’m so sorry that you have journeyed through this pain. Thank you for sharing your story.
I can’t imagine the weight of that grief. And then having to stand there and absorb people’s terrible theology on top of it all. Thank you for seeing the difference between God causing our pain and God being present in it. That distinction saved my faith too. I’m so grateful for you and that you shared your story here.
Sorry for your loss. Sitting with you,
Thank you. That means more than you know.
Thank you so much Beau. This was something I really needed to read today. Blessings!!
I’m so glad it found you at the right time, Fran. Blessings to you as well!
Two lines resonated:
1. "They let you feel like you’ve done something pastoral without the vulnerability of just being there". It became like a checklist of care items, ways in which we fooled ourselves into thinking we were helping the other person. In reality, we were patting ourselves on the back, dusting the dirt off our pants, and running towards our eternal goal of "well done, good and faithful servant". It was selfish and performative.
2. "The incarnation teaches us that presence is the point. That love shows up. That the gospel isn’t a set of answers we deliver from a distance, it’s a way of being with people in their pain". Love shows up. That's just it. Maybe we start extending the warm embrace out instead of patting ourselves on the back. Maybe we brush the bird nests out of their hair instead of dusting off our own pants. And maybe, we run towards them instead of running towards our eternal goal.
Loving well.
Thanks for these words.
I love that you pulled these lines out - it means a lot that they connected with you in this way. Thank you for engaging with it so thoughtfully and letting it shape how you’re thinking about loving well. That’s everything.
Your writing is impactful. I always look forward to the next post.
That means more than I can express. Humbling. Truly.
I loved this with every fiber of my being. Just. Show. Up. I have a friend who just lost her 15yo I’ve been struggling with how to help. Thank you for the book suggestion
I’m so sorry about your friend’s daughter. Fifteen years old - that’s just devastating. I hope the book helps, but honestly, you already know the most important thing: just show up. Your presence will mean more than any words ever could. Holding you and your friend in my thoughts.
Loosing a child (in this case a young man) is not natural in any way no matter the age, no matter the cause or circumstances. It’s devastating. I’m so sorry for all the loss you have experienced.
Hi Beau, thanks for the great writing and the great explaining, and the willingness to confront the great conundrums of our faith expressed by a missing-the-mark humanity.
Amidst the pain of life sits our Savior. Hallelujah!
I’m learning the missing-the-mark of Evangelicalism. I’m not mainline, nor perhaps, ‘becoming mainline.’ But I’m certainly seeing how my brothers and sisters have developed a lot of weird doctrine. I’ve written many books that challenge the scriptural validity of evangelism practices. And my challenges have become too much for my elders—they finally pulled the rug out and pushed me to “retire” as pastor.
I’m glad to know I’m not the only one pushing back and standing up for our Lord as he is revealed in the Bible.
Keep going, my brother.
Randy, I’m really sorry about what happened with your elders. That’s a hard way to end a pastorate, especially when you’re doing the work of honest biblical engagement. Your voice and your questions matter, even when the system can’t handle them.
You’re not alone in this. Keep going, brother. Grateful for your presence here.
My stomach has always become twisted when I hear all the Christian cliches about loss and suffering. The quiet loving presence you describe is the lesson for me. How beautiful when that happens.
That twisted stomach feeling is real. I’m so glad this landed differently for you. There’s something profound about just being with someone without trying to fix or explain it all away. Thanks for sharing this.
I'm so sorry for your losses, Beau, including the loss of the faith in which you began your ministry. And yes, presence is the gift God gave to us, so that we can learn how to be present to each other. Blessings to you and your family.
Thank you so much for this. I really appreciate the kindness. And you’re right - presence really is at the heart of it all. Learning to show up for each other the way God shows up for us. That’s the good stuff. Blessings to you and your family as well.
My brother died of cancer at age 40, leaving a wife and two children. This occurred a couple of short years after my Dad died and another brother died on my 18th birthday. I’ve heard enough platitudes to fill a dictionary! Sad to say, I’ve also repeated them to others. I’ve never read anything like this before (and I read a lot!) so thank you from the bottom of my bruised little heart. This makes a difference. This is healing.
I’m so sorry. That’s a lot of loss to carry, and I can’t imagine how hollow so many words must have sounded along the way. Thank you for trusting me with your story - it means everything to know this landed differently for you. Your bruised little heart deserves better than platitudes, and I’m honored this could offer something closer to what you needed. Holding space for you.
When my daughter died a Jewish friend reminded me of the tradition of sitting Shiva. She knew that what we needed was not platitudes, not empty expressions of hope, but a silent friend who would sit with us as we mourned. Her quiet presence was worth more than all the words spoken by others.
I’m so sorry about your daughter. What a gift your friend gave you - she understood what you actually needed. There’s so much wisdom in that tradition, in just sitting together without the pressure to fix or explain. Thank you for sharing this. It’s a beautiful witness to what real presence looks like.
This is really well put and beautifully delivered. It reminds me of several things. One thing that often sticks with me in therapy is the notion that the real work doesn’t begin until there’s nothing you can do. It’s a reminder of the power of empathy and presence. In the book I’m working on, I write about grief and my whole theory of the case for “treating” grief is to be present in the absence. Really well said.