In a Place Where Joy and Sorrow Meet by Tami Cinquemani

My first grandchild (a girl) will arrive any day.  Knowing how anxious I am about this impending miracle, my daughter now texts me before she calls me:  “Going to call you.  I’m not in labor.”  She knows me well.  She understands that seeing her name on my cell phone will instantly send my heart racing, and she wants to avoid any unnecessary craziness from her mother.

I have a dear friend whose mother recently reached the end of her battle with breast cancer that had painfully metastasized to her bones.  For weeks I had been waiting for that phone call.  Each text or call steeled my heart to the impending grief.

What a strange place to be . . . waiting in a place firmly planted between anticipated joy and anticipated sorrow.  Wanting to be by the side of my daughter as well as my friend – sharing what is before them.

In Romans 12:15 Paul says, ^“Be happy with those who are happy, and weep with those who weep.” 

Then it goes on:  “Live in harmony with each other. Don’t be too proud to enjoy the company of ordinary people. And don’t think you know it all!” (NLT)

I’m not sure if it’s what Paul originally meant, but this advice makes perfect sense to me.  “And don’t think you know it all.”  Isn’t this essential if we are to deserve the privilege of joining others in their most raw and intimate moments?

If I approach her side with answers, counsel, advice, and sometimes even “the perfect scripture,” what I offer my friend after she has lost one of the most important people in her life can quickly morph from comfort to increased pain. 

If I don’t honor my daughter’s and son-in-law’s natural gifts of parenthood and feel pressed to share MY experience, MY wisdom, and MY ideas without an opinion being invited, I could easily dampen the insane joy of new parents and wear out my welcome before I even arrive.

How wonderfully relevant are Paul's words as we share life’s unpredictable journey.  Whether it is in joy or in sorrow, when the call comes, I simply check my pride at the door and be the person they’re glad they called.

Tami Cinquemani