Presence works.  But, nearly every caring person is tempted, at some point, with the feeling that their presence with a person in need is not enough.

You might feel like there must be something you should do, or words of wisdom you must speak to bring understanding. You want to answer questions that often have no answers, or we want to offer a solution, when that is not possible or is something in the future.

Admittedly, there are a few circumstances such as a sudden trauma or unexpected death, when there are practical things that need to be done. Meals, making travel plans, baby sitting or transportation require action that the surviving care receiver does not have the ability, at that moment, to do. But, even in these exceptional events, presence is required to understand those needs and to make sure they are done appropriately. Usually someone remains present with the survivor, while the tasks are triaged out to service oriented caring people.

Presence, even with no other action, is powerful beyond measure, and it is valuable to the care receiver. Your greatest gift is your time and undivided attention.

Your presence honors a person most of all. When people are surveyed months or years after their experience of need, the greatest and most powerful memories are of the people who were “with them.” Not what was said, nor what was done, and maybe not even who was there, but that they were not alone in their time of need.

Being present is the first thing we do once we have turned our focus to others.

Presence worked with a man struggling emotionally and mentally.

I was sitting with this man who was mentally ill and emotionally troubled.
 
You could not tell it by looking at him, but broken relationships and addiction had wreaked havoc on his young life. Troubled emotions and confused thinking added to his torment. It was complicated.
 
I didn't know what to do so I just sat with him, looked him in the eye, when I could (he looked at the floor most of the time), and asked him to tell me his story. That is the essence of the ministry of presence.
 
"This really helps," he said surprised. I was surprised too, I am sorry to admit. "You are not trying to fix me or tell me what to do."
 
His countenance relaxed. He looked at the floor while he was organizing his thoughts but often lifted his head and locked in on my eye contact. We were connecting and a tear rolled down his cheek. That was unusual for a man known more for anger than vulnerability.
 
I had the feeling my role was rare in his life. Perhaps no one else was "just" present with him.
 
He wanted to pray. He wanted to read Scripture. Preaching or teaching from me was not necessary -- just being with him was all he asked for and my presence gave him the opportunity and comfort to ask for more.

I hardly did anything. I just sat with her. How could that be enough.

It was late on a Sunday afternoon. I was on call at the hospital.

My pager went off (yes, hospitals still use pagers). Stat team to the O.R. I didn’t need to respond to Stat Team pages, but in less than a minute it went off again.

Code Blue. O.R.

I knew someone had crashed on the operating table. It was my responsibility to respond to Code Blues so I could support the family and friends of the person whose condition was critical.

But before I could get moving my phone rang. It was the hospital with a brief message. “Get to the ICU waiting room, stat. The patient’s wife is alone and the situation is serious.”

When I arrived she was kneeling at a table in the ICU waiting area. I stood by her, and I introduced myself. I didn’t need to say anything else. She asked me to pray. She needed my presence and I prayed.

The surgeon came out and informed her of the critical condition of her husband. I just stood beside her. We hadn’t known each other for more than 15 minutes.

The surgeon left. I assumed he returned to the operating room to check on his patient before the patient went to recovery or the ICU.

The two of us sat together at the table, oblivious to other people in the visitor’s room of the ICU.

Soon, her parents arrived. She hopped up, greeted them with the urgent news that her husband was critical.

Then she turned and pointed to me and said, “This is my angel.”

I hardly did anything, except to be present. Just being with her had an immeasurable power of comfort and care that gave her strength that sustained her at the time of an unexpected crisis.

Scenarios like the ones above, even if not as dramatic, have happened in all areas of my ministry with similar results.

The ministry of presence works with the elderly, the demented, the injured, the grieving, the shocked, the confused, the rejected, the lonely and the sick. It works with everyone, every age and in every situation. 

And learning to be present makes me a better person, spouse, parent and grandparent, and it will you too.

To practice presence effectively, do these 8 actions that make a difference.

 A description of God’s presence is contained in the words of Numbers 6:25, “Make his face shine upon you” and “turn His face toward you.” We should follow His example.

1.     Look at the person you are with. Let your face “shine on them.”

2.     Know and use their name.

3.     Lean in.

4.     Let your countenance show your interest.

5.     Make eye contact. Don’t stare or intimidate but with caring eyes let them feel like they are seen and that they have your undivided attention.

6.     Take time. You can’t care in a hurry. In our rushed and interrupted world, a calm, unrushed presence will matter more than you can imagine or measure.

7.     Remove distractions, when possible. Silence or turn off your cell phone. Step away from people if you are in a crowded church lobby, store, restaurant or coffee shop.

8.     Prioritize when interrupted. Interruptions often cannot be avoided, but learning how to get past them quickly and return to your care receiver by turning your face toward them, shows them that they are your highest priority.