I'm Sorry You're Hurting

Had a reminder tonight that friendship doesn't have an age limit. And neither does sharing God's love. Arabella was having a difficult day in church (hurray for noisy stages) so I ended up in the nursery for the majority of service this evening. Since service falls right over her normal bedtime, she was getting pretty fussy. I decided to go ahead and put her in her pajamas and see if I could get her to sleep. The fussing suddenly turned to screaming. And by screaming I mean S.C.R.E.A.M.I.N.G. And it went on. And on. And on. And on. And on. And... you get the idea. I tried everything I could think of, but apparently she was past the point of exhaustion, because nothing was working. I heard the door behind me quietly open and someone stepped inside. I didn't turn around, because I figured my mom had probably heard the screaming from the sanctuary and had come to check on us. But then I realized (since grandma didn't appear to "rescue" her poor screaming grandbaby) that it was Livi. Livi is a young gal at my church who adores babies, and will make a wonderful mommy some day. (She's either 11 or 12, I can't remember which.) She didn't say anything, just watched me continue my attempts to calm my screaming child. I couldn't very well talk to her above the freakishly loud noise (my baby has really good lungs, apparently) so I just kept focused on Arabella and the attempts to get her calmed down. (Confession: I was crying by this point, too, even though I was trying not to.) I kept expecting Livi to leave, since the screaming wasn't stopping, but she didn't leave. In fact, she moved closer to us and sat down. I glanced at her to see if I could tell what was going through her head (did she think I was a terrible mother?? had she come to tell me that the noise was loud enough in the sanctuary that it was bothering everyone else, too??) but she was looking at my baby with a very concerned face, and then glanced at me, and I could suddenly tell exactly what she was thinking. "I'm sorry you're having such a bad day. I wish I could do something to help. I would if I could." And she stayed right there beside me until Arabella finally screamed herself to sleep. She didn't try to say anything. She didn't try to "fix" it. What she DID do was sit beside me. And put her arm around me. What she DID do was be my friend. What she did do, without even saying a word out loud, was tell me "I'm sorry you're having such a bad day. I wish I could do something to help. I would if I could." And I was suddenly reminded that friendship doesn't have an age limit. And neither does sharing God's love. And I realized that as young as Livi is, she has already learned one of the biggest secrets about being a good friend. Sometimes there is nothing you can say that will help. Sometimes there is nothing you can do that will fix it. But you CAN go sit beside a hurting friend, you CAN put your arm around them, and you CAN let them know "I'm sorry you're having such a bad day. I wish I could do something to help. I would if I could." And I'm also thinking I could follow her example, and be a better friend.