Eight years ago, a phone call shattered my world. On the other end of the line, a calm, compassionate voice informed me that three of my loved ones, two children and their father, were found murdered in their home. In horror, I dropped the phone and let out a wail heard clearly by my neighbors. The ensuing hours and then days were a blur of shock, anxiety and full-bodied fear. As each detail trickled in, my blood turned cold as it coursed through my veins. On the other side of town, the wife and mother of the victims was enduring her own kind of hell on earth; the loss of her entire family. As she stood in her family room surrounded by the bodies of her husband and children, she realized that everything she was living for had simply ceased to exist. Who she had been died that day. A previous disagreement had forged a wall of silence between us two weeks before. Each of us was indignant and unwilling to compromise in order to resolve our dispute. When I felt a nudge from Jesus to go to my friend, I initially resisted. "What could I say to her?" I asked Him. "I'm the last person she'd be willing to see." The only answer I received was the simple word, "Go." Not understanding why He would suggest such a thing, I nevertheless gathered together some items and showed up at the house of her in-laws the following day. When she arrived there an hour later, I turned my eyes away and tried to blend in with the crowd that had gathered there. Suddenly, the woman who hadn't been able to coherently speak in over 24 hours said my name. I looked into her dead eyes and without warning, all the words of comfort I had been setting aside for this moment disappeared. Instead, I spoke the only words to come to my lips, " I'm so sorry. I love you." I learned at that moment that sometimes, all I need to do is show up and let Jesus do the rest. How often do we resist Him when He nudges us into difficult spiritual, emotional or physical situations because we don't trust Him to see us through? How often do we walk away from a despondent friend, a struggling teenager or a depressed loved one because we fear that we don't know the right thing to say? Sadly, I know I am not the only one who has resisted the gentle (and sometimes forceful) urgings of my Savior. If I am to reflect Christ's love for His children, would it not behoove me to let go of earthly fears and to walk into the fire, knowing that He will be with me every step of the way? If we trust Jesus, we Christians can be the gentle, compassionate vessels that He uses to comfort His children. We can be confident leaders when others fall into situations that render them helpless to help themselves. In other words, we can be powerful instruments of God if we just show up and let Jesus do the rest. We don't have to have elaborate vocabularies because sometimes, He speaks lovingly simple words of comfort, encouragement and support. We need not fear looking foolish if our eyes are on Jesus. We need not shirk the responsibility He gives us when He urges us forward into perceieved danger. Jeremiah 29:11-13 says: For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. How can we not be encouraged to seek and obey Him in difficult circumstances when He makes it abundantly clear that He believes that we are capable to standing up to the task? Even more comforting, He also states that He has no plans whatsoever to harm us. What are we afraid of? After all, sometimes, all we have to do is just show up... and let Jesus do the rest.