Anything I Can Do to Help?

“Anything I can do to help?” How many times have you asked a hurting friend some version of this question?

Seems like such a nice collection of words, doesn’t it? And full of compassion. And concern.

Or not.

During the seasons of heartache in my own life, I have discovered that I do not think well about a lot of things. I have washed clothes in the washing machine with no detergent. I have driven my daughter to school only to realize halfway there that she wasn’t actually in my minivan but still at home. I have felt overwhelmed with the thought of going to the grocery store and making decisions about food.

I’m sure you could tell many similar stories.

So . . .  when someone says to me, as I wander in the fog of stress and sorrow, “What can I do to help?” I become tongue-tied. I honestly don’t know. Often I can’t think beyond the moment.

And then I don’t know what time commitment my friend wants to make. Does she want to help me every day? Once a week? Just this once as an emergency intervention?

And I also don’t know if my friend minds getting messy. Does she mind pulling weeds in my garden? Does she mind changing the dressing on my stitches that I can’t reach? Does she mind handling my dirty laundry that has piled up for days?

What would happen, I wonder, if we learned to speak in more specifics when we offer help?   

How would a friend react if I dropped this note in her mailbox and followed it with a phone call to set up a time?

I wonder how a friend who just went back to work full-time would feel about getting this text:  “At Costco. Buying U a chicken and salad for dinner tonight. Drop off at 5.”

Seems like these specific statements might make giving and receiving help so much easier.

Do you agree? What creative ways have you found to offer specific help?