God Suffers

I work in healthcare. I've worked in healthcare for a long time. And my work in healthcare has let me see some of the best that humanity has to offer. (Some of the worst, too, but that's another story for another day.) 

In times in which we are struggling and broken and confused and hurt, it's such a blessing to have someone alongside of us who is struggling with us. And that's what I get to see - I get to see men and women, moms and dads, husbands and wives, sons and daughters who are carrying these tremendous weights of stress because their loved one is lying in a hospital bed, struggling to get better. 

It's more common today than it was a decade ago when I first started in healthcare to see the relatives of the infirm complaining about the burden they carry, talking about how heavy it is for them, lamenting the life that's been forced on them by "having" to care for someone else, but you still get those moments when someone is just aching in the depth of their soul because someone they love is hurting and there's so very little (in earthly terms) they feel like they can do to help. 

You can see the weariness on the wife's face as she holds her husband's hand and tries to keep him from being too restless. You can see the angst on the father's face as he climbs into the bed with his child, trying to give them refuge from the fear. You can see the grief starting to form on the son's face as he watches his mother decline more rapidly than anyone thought possible, as he starts to make the arrangements for hospice care. 

And you can even see it in the faces that have to, reluctantly, turn away for a moment because they simply can't bear to watch it any more. Can't bear to look at the pain and the fight and the fear that is ravaging their once-vibrant loved ones. 

Friends, this is how God feels about us. 

The prophet Isaiah reminds us that God suffers when His people suffer (63:9). And we're not talking about a God who is exasperated, who as at the end of His rope, who can't believe He's got to shoulder one more burden and right now, as if there is some season of life that is better for the hard things than another. We're not talking about a God who suddenly gets too much on His plate because we are so weak and fallen and broken and infirm. 

We're talking about a God who cries silently at our bedside, holding our hand while we sleep and praying for our rest. We're talking about a God who tenderly keeps providing, holding a proverbial spoon to our mouths while we struggle against loss of appetite or a sudden inability to swallow. We're talking about a God doesn't go home, but spends however many days in a row as we need Him right here by our side - in the same old dirty clothes, weary Himself, knowing that His presence is the best thing He can do for us right now. 

We're talking about a God who sometimes has to, reluctantly, turn away for a moment because seeing us like this - broken, fragile, traumatized, torn, hurting, aching, infirm - breaks His ever-loving heart. For real. 

He suffers when we are suffering. 

His love for us is that great.