My mother used to tell me about a huge tree in the square of the village where she grew up. It was so old that her own grandparents remembered playing in its shade as children. That tree never preached a sermon or gave anyone advice. It simply stood there through every wedding celebrated beneath it, every dispute settled in its shade and every funeral gathering that needed somewhere cool to sit and grieve.
Nobody credited the tree with wisdom, yet almost every important moment in that village seemed to happen under it. Its whole contribution was being there, season after season, when people needed a place to gather. Scripture honours that kind of presence more than many of us notice.
When Job’s Friends Got It Right
Job’s three friends are remembered for the poor theology they offered him later, and God Himself rebuked them for it (Job 42:7). Before any of that, though, they did something exactly right:
“So they sat down with him on the ground seven days and seven nights, and no one spoke a word to him, for they saw that his grief was very great.” (Job 2:13, NKJV)
For seven days they gave no advice and quoted no verses. They travelled from their own homes, sat in the ashes beside him and stayed. It was the best thing any of them did for Job in the whole book. Their words afterwards only made things worse.
Aaron and Hur Held Up His Hands
During Israel’s battle with Amalek, Israel prevailed as long as Moses kept his hands raised. His arms grew tired, as anyone’s would:
“But Moses’ hands became heavy; so they took a stone and put it under him, and he sat on it. And Aaron and Hur supported his hands, one on one side, and the other on the other side; and his hands were steady until the going down of the sun.” (Exodus 17:12, NKJV)
Aaron and Hur did not lead the battle or plan it. They stood on either side of a tired man and held up what he could no longer hold alone. Scripture does not record a single word from either of them in that passage.
Jesus Asked for It Too
The night before His crucifixion, Jesus did not ask His three closest disciples for solutions:
“Then He said to them, ‘My soul is exceedingly sorrowful, even to death. Stay here and watch with Me.'” (Matthew 26:38, NKJV)
He asked them to stay. If the Lord, in His hardest hour, wanted people beside Him, we should not assume our presence is too small a thing to offer.
The Couple Nobody Checked On
Think of a couple in a church fellowship who for years made themselves available to everyone. At a wedding they arrived early to set out chairs. When someone was admitted to hospital, theirs was the first car in the car park. When a family emergency came in the middle of the night, one of them was dressed and out of the door before the call had ended. They turned up for celebrations and funerals alike, often at real cost to themselves, and never mentioned it afterwards.
Then came a hard season for them that lasted months. A sadness settled over them that they never spoke about loudly, though those close enough could see it. Most of the people they had stood beside for years did not return the visit. Few called, and fewer came by. The couple kept carrying other people’s burdens while bearing their own largely alone.
Closer to Home
I understand that ache more than I expected to. I know someone intimately whose wife battled a serious illness for most of a year, through difficult treatment and a fragile recovery, and then a relapse that took them back to where they started. What wounded her warm and generous heart more than the illness itself was that many people close to her never came. One in particular, who was like family and lived so near that they passed the house twice every working day, did not stop in once in several months. The couple, who had spent years turning up for others without being asked, found that absence harder to carry than much of what the illness demanded. They admitted it came close to turning something warm in her into something bitter, and I understood why.
I do not say this to shame anyone. Most of us, myself included, have been on the other side without realising it: too busy, unsure what to say, or convinced our presence would not make much difference. But it does make a difference. Sometimes it is the only thing that does.
We Owe Each Other This
Across Southern Africa, people speak of ubuntu, often summed up as “I am because we are”. It names something Scripture has always assumed: we were never meant to work out our wellbeing alone, and being present for one another is a ministry in its own right. Those who give that presence deserve to receive it in return. But Scripture does not allow us to answer disappointment by closing our own doors. “Be kindly affectionate to one another with brotherly love, in honor giving preference to one another” (Romans 12:10, NKJV) comes with no condition that others must do it for us first.
Think of a door you pass regularly without ever stopping, or someone who has stood by you whose own hard season you may have missed. This week, go and sit with them. You do not need the right words. Like the tree in my mother’s village, you only need to be there.
