Picking Scabs

My friend is here visiting - she actually came here to escape. It is so difficult to watch the hurt she is going through at the disintegration of her marriage. The pain she is experiencing is palpable. I wish I knew what to do to help her.
One thing that has been difficult on my end is that I went through a similar situation from the perspective of a child. My dad left and while it crippled me emotionally in ways that I still experience today, I am living proof that you can rise above. I have to be there for my friend, even if it hurts, and even if it means picking off scabs.
This whole thing has hit her as unexpectedly as a flying train. Earlier today she told me that she didn't feel like a Christian. I can testify to Papa's love. You either are a Christian or you aren't. It isn't based on how we feel. We aren't 72% Christian today and 28% non-Christian. This is one of the biggest lies. In our infirmities, in our failures, in our shortcomings, and yes, even being mad as hell - we are still His, written on the palm of His hands and no less so when we struggle with the rawest emotions. It does not make us any less so to be human and feel such things.
Tonight has been particularly hard for her. Tomorrow is a new day - and if necessary, I will pick the scab off of another wound to share in her suffering.