[just sit with me]

I had an interesting realization on Sunday.

I was at a ward conference. 2 of my dear friends were sitting in front of me. Both have experienced a profound loss. One buried her husband. And one buried her son. Another dear friend was sitting behind me. She also has experienced profound loss with the recent burial of her son.

After the closing hymn, I watched as the friends in front of me wrapped their arms around each other in a warm hug with tears streaming down their cheeks. As I touched their shoulders, they both turned and we were able to share that moment - heart to heart - no words spoken.

As I was leaving the chapel, I stopped to visit with my other friend, and as we clasped hands and spoke of eternity, there was a strong spirit of kinship and love.

I thought about the 4 of us. Grief runs deep in our veins and occasionally spills out through our eyes. Anyone who knows us also knows the loss we've experienced. Because they know that, they are more lenient with random tears and the sadness that lingers just under the surface, bubbling up now and again and affecting us in different ways.

It was comforting to know that the 4 of us could just sit together in our grief. No words needed. No discomfort at our tears or our sadness. There is something so incredibly profound about having someone just sit with you in your grief. It's healing. And wonderful.

And then I looked around. And I saw others in the congregation with tears in their eyes. I don't know their stories. I don't know their heartache. I don't know what grief runs deep in their veins. I don't know if anyone just sits with them in their grief, or if, because their grief is less known or visible than ours, that they carry that burden alone.

"In the quiet heart is hidden sorrows that the eye can't see."

The other day, through a comment made on Facebook, I inadvertently hurt one of my friends. A newly grieving momma that I should have been more aware of, more encouraging to. Even after apologizing, my heart still carries that prick of guilt for hurting her. I wish I would have chosen, instead, to just sit with her. To just love her. I think this is something that I need to work on.

"I will learn the healer's art. To the wounded and the weary I will show a gentle heart. I will be my brother's keeper. Lord, I will follow thee."