Thanks for Noticin' Me

One of my favorite movies when I was younger was Winnie the Pooh. I adored each and every character; from scholarly Owl to hyperactive Tigger to ever-hungry Pooh. But what I loved most is that despite each character having their own very unique personalities, the others love them fiercely regardless of their flaws.

This love is perhaps demonstrated best in the interactions of the Hundred Acre Woods gang with their friend Eeyore. Albeit clinically depressed, the doleful donkey is never left behind or forgotten. He’s invited on every adventure, and although Eeyore usually declines, the friends aren’t deterred by his polite refusal to join in the fun; in fact, if Eeyore doesn’t feel up to going out, the Hundred Acre gang goes to him. They sit with him where he’s at, sometimes chatting with their friend but most often sitting in silence together. When he’s at his lowest, Eeyore’s friends come to sit with him in his sadness.

The same principle is demonstrated in the Book of Job. An upright man blessed with seven sons, three daughters, seven thousand sheep, three thousand camels, five hundred yoke of oxen, five hundred donkeys, the greatest man of all the men in the east, Job had everything. And then everything was taken away. Covered in boils and sores and left with nothing and no one, Job was demoted to the lowest of the low, a miserly state indeed. When his friends heard of the myriad afflictions Job had experienced, they “came every one from his own place…for they had made an appointment to come to mourn with him and to comfort him” (Job 2:11).

However, his grief and despair were far greater than they had imagined, so much so that “When they lifted up their eyes afar off…they lifted up their voice, and wept; and they rent every one his mantle, and sprinkled dust upon their heads toward heaven. So they sat down with him upon the ground seven days and seven nights, and none spake a word unto him: for they saw that his grief was very great” (Job 2:12-13). There was absolutely nothing Job’s friends could do to comfort him. There was no mitigating the hopelessness and despondency that he felt, but they loved him fiercely so they did the next best thing. They rent their clothes. They wept aloud. And they sat with him in his grief.

The day I tested positive for Covid-19 was the worst day of my life. I had just had an absolutely stellar weekend at my regionals swim meet and was very excited to finish off my decade-long swimming career by competing in all four of my events at the state meet that next weekend. However, when I heard the diagnosis only a day after my regions meet ended, that exuberance shattered and was immediately replaced with outright grief.

My mom and I called my coach to inform him that I wouldn’t be able to compete in the state championship, and then after the phone call ended, we sat together on the couch and cried. For hours. At first, I didn’t understand why my mom was weeping alongside me. It wasn’t her dream nor her whole world that was destroyed that day. However, in the hard weeks that followed, I realized that my suffering caused her so much pain that she couldn’t help but cry with me. When you really love someone, their joy is your joy and their heartbreak is your heartbreak. And sometimes, the only thing you can do is sit with them in their sorrow.

Jesus, the Son of God, also understood this innately human concept of sitting together in sadness. My favorite bible story is when Jesus traveled to Lazarus’s tomb once He received word from Mary of her brother’s passing. He knew the whole time that a miracle would be performed; He knew that Lazarus would rise again. But, He also knew that what the grieving sisters needed was a shoulder to cry on. They needed someone to sit with them in their heartbreak. And so, “Jesus wept” not because He grieved Lazarus’s death but because He “loved Martha and her sister” (John: 35, 5). He didn’t try to comfort them by telling them of the miracle He’d perform. In fact, he didn’t use words at all. He simply wept. And sure enough, through the miraculous power of God, Lazarus was raised from the dead. But perhaps for Mary and Martha, the true miracle lay in the fact that the Savior Himself loved them enough to take the time and simply sit with them in their anguish.

I imagine if we ask Mary and Martha how it felt for Jesus to weep with them, they might say the same thing Eeyore did: “Thanks for noticin’ me.”

Avery Palenske is officially a college student: aesthetic dorm room, appreciation for any free food, titanic school spirit and all. Although anxiously awaiting the beginning of classes, the arrival of her roommate, and a break in the sweltering 90 degree weather, she is over the moon excited to begin this next chapter of her life. But she’s most excited to continue to be a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.