I was sitting in a church pew just the other day when someone came up from behind me and shared some bad news. I might mention that it was the fifth time I'd heard bad news in a weeks' time concerning deaths, in, or related to our church family. Rather than turn around and speak words of wisdom or comfort, I simply, and quite audibly, groaned.

As she walked away, I thought, "What a way to respond!" I feared how my response may have been taken. I could have hugged her. Or said something compassionate. But in all honesty, as I sat in that church pew I realized how emotionally dehydrated I was and relied on hope that she knew my groan was a mournful one. Loss has a way of stripping us of words.

It's rare that I find myself speechless; more often I'm regretting something I did say.

Yesterday Hallie and I did a little devotion on the Holy Spirit. It started out with scripture from Matthew 3 where Jesus is being baptized. It says that after the baptism

As Jesus came up out of the water, the heavens were opened and he saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and settling on him. v16

I couldn't get past the start of the devotion. My mind was stuck on the image of that dove. God's gentle presence was made known by the Holy Spirit who "settled" on Jesus. Words were spoken from heaven (about eleven of them), but they weren't blasted on a bullhorn and the words were short and sweet.

We don't always have to know what to say.

In our compassion for the broken we often feel like we have to come up with the perfect words of comfort. Many of us have found ourselves avoiding, or wanting to avoid people or situations when we don't have the words.

I remember distinctly the time of the Columbine massacre in Colorado where twelve students and one teacher were murdered by Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold. The day after,  I sat at my computer at school staring at an online site where people were leaving messages of encouragement to the family and friends of those directly impacted. I wanted to say something, anything as I watched the screen's cursor I'd placed in the message box beat in rhythm with my pounding chest. What can possibly be said to someone whose entire world has just been stripped from beneath their feet? I wanted to share God, a prayer with the broken. But what? Upon a panicked scramble through the Bible I found this most treasured verse

….. the Spirit helps us in our weakness……the Holy Spirit prays for us with groanings that cannot be expressed in words.

Romans 8:26

That's what I wrote in the message box. It was also the response I sent to my high school friend who'd emailed me as in shock as I was. And it was my response to the lady bearing bad news while I sat in the church pew earlier this week. I groaned, thankful that the Holy Spirit is settled on me. Grateful that Holy Spirit helps me in times of weakness and prayerfully speaks to God for me.

He speaks to those I love for me too.  In times that we don't have the right words, and we have the sense not to try to find them, I believe the Spirit ministers on our behalf. We only need ask or acknowledge His presence. Maybe it will be through a hug. It may be through a pained smile or simply through being there.

Cast me not away from your presence,

and take not your Holy Spirit from me.

Psalm 51:11

Jesus asked that John baptize him saying, "It should be done, for we must carry out all that God requires". Jesus had knowledge of the required road; a difficult and painful road that led to the cross. But along that road, he had the gentle presence of a dove.

We have the same presence. The Holy Spirit is settled on us and it stirs within us. It stills our souls and mourns on our behalf. The Holy Spirit spills over to those we feel so helpless to minister to. So we need not worry about what to pray,… God might rather we listen. We don't need to stress when words are few or don't come at all. I can hear almost hear him say. Let your words be few. Be still and know that I am God. It's sometimes the best way for other people to know I am there.