Helpless

I hate seeing my friends in pain. More than that, I hate not being able to do anything about it. It breaks my heart to talk to a hurting friend on the phone, to hear the pain in their voice, and have nothing to say except a feeble, "I'm so sorry." I wish I had a way to fix it. I wish I had words that would take it away. I wish I could just snap my fingers and make their lives perfect. I wish that I could take all of their pain, their stress, their problems, everything that's weighing on their minds, away from them. I wish that I could bear it for them, if only for a moment, just to give them a chance to breathe.

I can't.

But I know Who can. So I do the only thing that I can do: I carry them to His feet, ask Him to take care of them, and trust Him to do it in a far better way than I ever could. I want to be like the friends of the paralyzed man in Mark 2 that carried him on his mat to Jesus. That's all I can do, but I will do it. I know I'm a kid. I know I don't understand all of the trials that my friends face. But as well as I can, I will do what my God calls me to do in Galatians 6:2, "Carry each other's burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ." I will carry their burdens straight to the feet of Jesus, because it is the only thing I can do. Fortunately, it is also the best thing I can do.