I hate not knowing what to say to someone when they’ve told me about a personal tragedy. Almost anything that I can think of sounds like some schmaltzy cliche and I’m left with absolutely nothing that doesn’t sound hollow and cheap.

I mean I want to say things like, “I want you to know that I’m grieving with you over this and that in imagining the pain you must be experiencing my heart is broken.” But coming from a 260lbs., bearded and tatooed, ex-truck driver that just doesn’t sound real.

As a Christian I almost feel that what’s expected for me to say is, “I’m praying for you”, yet that’s the very statement that to me rings hollow. Because coming from me it is. I may hurt because you do, and I honestly grieve with you, but the truth is I very much doubt that I will be on my knees this evening praying for you because I rarely pray about anything. That’s why I’m so reticent to say I will.

The truth is you’ve been praying about this ever since I’ve known you and God; in what every omniscient, predestined, loving and caring way you want to look at it, just allowed the knife to be shoved in a little deeper and turned a little further. I can’t imagine the word “disappointment” coming close to expressing the sickening heartbreak you are now feeling. And Christian knowledge of our ultimate deliverance from this fallen world aside we’re talking the kind of pain that’s debilitating to both body and soul.

So it’s with that last thought in mind that I, right here and right now, do find myself praying for you my nameless friend. And while I pray that God answers your hearts desire, in my mind even more importantly, I pray that the Holy Spirit will fill that void you now sense and walk beside you, setting your feet on higher ground.

May the peace of our Lord which surpasses all of our understanding be with you this day and evermore.