She sat helplessly beside her, squeezing her hand. The night was nearly silent, save for the thrumming of the car engine and the quiet, shallow breathing of a woman dissolving into tears. For a while no words were exchanged between them, and all she could do was watch someone she loved very much fall to pieces, knowing nothing could be done except help to break the fall.
Her friend was petite and delicate in build, while strong in heart and spirit. Her short cropped hair hung straight until it reached her jaw bone, where it subtly curled underneath. It gleamed faintly under the light of a distant moon, and hung in strands across her brimming eyes. She brushed it out of the woman’s face gently, catching a teardrop on her fingertip. Her shirt bore water spots where sorrow had fallen, and her free hand shook as she shielded her face in broken embarrassment.
She watched with tired, weary eyes as her friend came undone, and she ran her own fingers through her hair as an offering of comfort. It was all she had to give, she thought, and no words she had could ever right what was wrong. They’d been here before – and words had failed her before, failed her often...now didn't seem the time for failure. She summoned any strength inside her, any strength she could spare for this person who was nearly a sister to her, but found none. She found herself opening her mouth, then closing it silently, fearful that anything she said now would only do more damage, damage she wasn’t sure she could bear the weight of. So she continued to stroke her dear friend’s hair, waited for the help she’d beckoned silently, calling out to Him as fervently as her soul could manage.
He approached the car, knowing exactly who sat inside. He felt Himself being called in two different directions this night, one to the passenger side door for healing, the other to where the driver sat, begging Him for wisdom to know what to say, for guidance on how to direct her friend towards truth and away from the lies, and strength to get through the night without further breaking her friend’s heart. He chuckled as He opened the driver’s door to peer inside at the women who sat there, both calling to Him. His attention was drawn to the driver, and He shook His head with a smile. Someday she would learn, He thought, that she can’t fix everybody. Someday her pride would cease long enough for her to stop trying. It both amused and saddened Him to see that she would always deplete her own stores before calling upon Him for help. She would always give everything away before she called on Him for a “refill” (as she’d so often called it in their intimate conversations). But tonight wasn’t for Him to chastise. Tonight was for a different lesson, a different valley to emerge from.
I’m here, Beloved, He said softly as He slipped inside the car next to her.
Lord…I don’t know what I’m doing here.
You do, my love. He cupped a hand behind her neck, a gesture she found much comfort in.
Jesus, I don’t want to break her again.
You’ve never broken her, Beloved.
Lord, I made her fall apart. You were there, you saw. She shook her head and took a shaky breath. I was careless with my words, I was stupid and did her absolutely no –
Enough. He was curt with her, while still speaking in gentle tones. Don’t tell me lies.
Jesus, she attempted again, feeling herself sag in the seat, how do I fix this?
You don’t, Beloved. He whispered in her ear. You don’t fix it. Only I can fix it.
Then why am I here, Lord?
He answered in silence, for she knew the answer already. She heaved a heavy breath, still listening to her friend’s weeping, still not knowing what to say, but sensing urgency that words were necessary.
Jesus, I need your help. She closed her eyes, fighting tears of her own. I’m not strong enough to do this well, and my friend needs me. I can’t do this without your help.
Tell me what you need, Beloved.
Can you help me tell her…tell her the truth?
Yes. She felt his arms circle around her in an embrace she couldn’t escape – an embrace she’d never want to break. Lean back against me, my love. I’m strong enough – I’ll hold us both upright.
Lord…?
Just lean back, Beloved. I’ll be all the words and all the strength you need tonight.
She obeyed.
The two women talked well into the night that night, until both were too tired to continue. Words mingled with laughter and tears, words raised upon a cornerstone of truth. He’d intervened in the knick of time, and granted her the “refill” she’d so desperately needed. And as she whispered a prayer of healing over her friend as the night crept towards dawn, her lips curled into a smile of one grateful. The smile of one saved.
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