I have two principles when it comes to helping people in pain that I swear by, and they are easy to understand but surprisingly hard to follow: show up and don’t say dumb stuff. A more sophisticated way of putting this is “having a ministry of presence,” which boils down to showing up and not saying dumb stuff. You might ask me, “Did you really have to go to college and seminary to learn that?” In my case, yes.

The first and most important part of this ministry philosophy is showing up. There is no substitute for being with someone when they are going through a rough patch, but a lot of people play possum with people who are hurting. Think about it for a second. Do you know someone who is going through a divorce, lost a child or got a diagnosis that feels like a death sentence to them? A common experience is that in the aftermath a lot of people who they thought they were close to are no-shows. They go through whatever the terrible thing is and are surprised at how people pull away from them. It is not that people don’t say anything, usually. They might get a sympathy card in the mail or get a superficial “I’m sorry,” kind of statement, but there is not a deep level of friendship that continues. Ask someone who has been through a divorce, and they will tell you about friends they spent a lot of time with when they were married who then dropped off the map. The same happens with people who have lost someone really close to them or people who get really sick.

Why do some people peel off in those moments of crisis? I think it could be a lot of things, but it is suddenly uncomfortable to be with someone in need. Maybe people are afraid of saying the wrong thing. Maybe it makes them feel insecure at a subliminal level, like this could happen to me, so they avoid the cognitive and emotional dissonance altogether. Maybe they feel like they have their own problems and don’t want to get stuck in someone else’s vortex.

I have found myself in plenty of places with people in pain that made me feel uncomfortable, but I went to be with them anyway. Afterward, I might find out how impactful it is on someone just to show up. Conversely, there are times when I might lose track of someone, and I find out later that there are messages attached to my absence that I never intended to send. The bottom line is to show up, not to be a nuisance, and not to overstay a welcome, but just to be present.

The corollary to showing up is to not say dumb things. People say stupid things to other people in grief all the time. One of my least favorite statements is “God won’t give you more than you are able to handle.” While it may be well-intended to encourage someone to power through something, it puts God in the role of the aggressor, that God is inflicting stuff on us like the death of a spouse of many years just to see how we will handle it. (And no, it isn’t a Bible verse, though people quote it as such.)

I also think people may find themselves in circumstances that are more than they can handle, that have the potential to overwhelm them at any moment. A better thing to say might be, “God is there for you and cares about you, and I do too.” The grief over the death of a child is complicated by people saying things like, “God just needed another rosebud in his garden.” Again, let’s put God in the least attractive light possible insinuating that God needed your child more than you did and selfishly took your child from you! Another example of what not to say would be, “You can always have another one.” Really? You expect them to deal with grief by replacing a child like a broken refrigerator? I heard about one the other day that made my blood boil: “Well, it was just a baby.” I don’t even know where to begin on how wrong and unhelpful that statement might be.

Here’s a thought: if you ever find yourself with someone in deep pain and you just don’t know what to say, say nothing. Just sit there and listen. It’s hard to express just how important doing that can be to someone. It is not up to you to explain to someone why their child died, or their spouse left them, or why they are the unlucky ones to get cancer. If you just show up and listen, they will remember your presence as a simple act of kindness, an oasis of cooling relief in the searing hot desert of their pain. Don’t cut them out of your life, and don’t say too much. Just be there. Much to your surprise, you may be the agent of God’s grace in that painful moment in your friend’s life, and they will bless you for it.

Derek Russell is pastor of the Hillsboro Global Methodist Church. He loves Jesus, family, dogs and football.