Suffering is universal, everyone experiences it. But suffering is also unique. We might all experience the same storm (i.e. global pandemic), but we’re all in different boats (i.e. small children, medically fragile, financially insecure, high restrictions, etc.). 

While some posts about suffering seem to be speaking universally, remember that posts are always written by authors who are unique people. What one person finds comforting, another may find very unhelpful. For me, writing is how I process life. Even if no one read these blogs, I’d need to write about my cancer experience somewhere. 

The other day when I was feeling very sad, I wrote about my desire to feel my feelings and to be able to lament my suffering. It’s important to grieve with those who are grieving. Lament is expressed in the Bible a lot throughout the Psalms, Lamentations, and many other times when people under the curse cry out to their Creator. When things are not as they should be, it’s good and right to run to Christ and tell Him. He cares, God the Father cares, and God the Holy Spirit is our Comforter.

That said, sometimes posts about grieving can leave a friend feeling helpless as to what TO say or what TO do. When I’m not in a season of suffering, I’ve felt frustrated at posts that only tell me what NOT to say to a sufferer, but never give me any indication of what might be helpful.

So, I thought I’d share some helpful things friends and family have done for me. 

One mindset I adopted early on in this journey is to remember that if someone says something awkward, at least it means they care. Saying something—even the wrong thing—can often be better than saying nothing at all. Saying nothing feels as though the suffering isn’t happening, is imagined, is ignored, or is too much to be spoken about. I’d encourage anyone who is walking alongside a friend in need to say or do something, even if it doesn’t land well. At least you are showing that you care.

There are obvious ways to help: making meals, cleaning, running errands, writing cards, sending flowers, or praying. I’d like to share some ways friends have ministered to me, but please keep in mind that these things fit me and my personality. You may have a friend or relative fighting cancer for whom these things would not bring comfort. 

• Curating a playlist on Spotify specifically for my recovery from surgery
• Dropping off small care packages before each infusion
• Buying ostomy clothing and supplies
• Purchasing shirts designed specifically for chemo infusions in my chest port
• Sending a necklace with a meaningful-to-me phrase engraved on it
• Delivering flowers to greet me after my first chemo infusion
• Giving me handmade art made from a scripture passage
• Writing me a card that includes a beautiful thought or poem
• Sketching me a drawing of Mt. Hood 
• Sewing me a pillowcase for my infusion days
• Walking into my house uninvited and washing dishes
• Cooking an unplanned meal and leaving it on my counter 
• Baking Annie dog treats
• Taking Annie for a bath and vet appointments
• Picking up my children from school each day and running them to extracurriculars
• Mailing me books or surprise presents
• Asking what I like to do for fun and then purchasing jigsaw puzzles for me
• Surprising my children with presents from their wishlists
• Taking my children overnight or for outings
• Texting me songs—especially soft, gentle songs of lament
• Recording themselves reading scripture to me
• Sending Marco Polo messages or texts and saying there’s no need to respond
• Delighting in my children
• Driving me to appointments
• Volunteering to regularly clean my house one day a week
• Friends saying, “I’d like to do more. How can I help more?”
• Giving us a car
• Inviting me over to relax in the hot tub
• Having me over just to talk through all my feelings
• Helping me change my ostomy bag
• Telling me you’re praying for me or thinking of me
• Making my bed
• Taking me for a pedicure
• Taking me out to eat
• Sitting in my bedroom and listening to me
• Sending me money to take my family out to eat even though I’ve never met you
• Checking at the pharmacy for my prescriptions
• Asking what you can get me at the store
• Bringing me dark chocolate or a latte
• Hugging me

And I could go on. These are the ones that come to mind right now! As you can see my friends and family are loving me well. If there’s one lesson I’m learning it’s that God loves me. If people, who are imperfect, can love me this well, then I’ve got to believe God when He says He loves me. 

Be encouraged that your suffering brings comfort that you can then comfort others with. Be encouraged that your comfort does not go unnoticed or unappreciated. Be awkward. It means you care.