Sit With Me

Max Braverman, a boy with Asperger's syndrome and a desire to see dinosaurs, takes matters into his own hands. He boards a city bus and goes out on his own to find the museum. Minutes measured in TV time later, he is found wandering the streets and is brought home in the back of a police car to face his worried family. The first thing from his mouth-- can he feed his lizard?

Haddie Braverman, teenage sister, is upset. Max, she calmly says, do you know what happened today? Do you know that you can't just walk off without telling anyone? Max's attention is not holding and he is not caring and Haddie's emotion builds. The things she's held so tight instead force their way out - THIS ISN'T FAIR. We try so hard. It's not fair. She flees the scene crying and her brother is asking for his lizard.

Adam Braverman, father, makes his way into his daughter's room after the chaos of the day. He sits on her bed and hears her apologies. He explains that things are hard for her, she handles a lot, and a causal nod of the head and Haddie says it's fine. An attempt to brush it off, Adam looks at her and says no it's not fine.

I guess it's not fine, but it is the way that it is.

I'm sorry it's hard.

I know it's not his fault, but it just sucks a little.

Yeah. It does.

And with her tear stained eyes, he holds her close.

No reprimand or words to fill silence. An honest look, an honest affirmation, a courageous dive into the scary things we face. A powerful interchange of understanding. You're not alone. I know.

There are the things in our lives we can't control. Even the things we can control. With our gallant efforts, we work so hard! We do our best, we make do, we smile, we nod, and sometimes we snap. We scream, we yell, we cry, we allow ourselves to feel the weight. THIS ISN'T FAIR. In that moment when it hits, that powerful reaction, when we snap, when the facade wears thin, when we're sad, when we're confused, is for someone to say yeah. it does. i know.

The value of someone just sitting with you.

Reading through the book of Job gives you a good sense of what bad community looks like. A best friend and I read through the book last year and it helped us redefine our friendship. Our friendship of sitting with each other. A friendship without empty words or loud encouragement. A friendship of presence. As Job, if all is stripped away and we are left with nothing but our lives in shambles, I know I will look to my right and see her sitting with me. The silence of her presence will mean everything.

So sit with me.

I'll sit with you.

When words aren't enough and advice won't do and you don't know what to do and life is tricky, I'll tell you 'yeah. i know.' And then we'll sit together, sometimes in silence but always in love, and we'll patiently watch the work of God melt our human hearts and point us.

Sit with me.