After I got home from the hospital, I had to stop for a moment to process everything that had happened.
I hated seeing my mom sliced up and swollen, her arm a wreck. It was a necessary part of the healing process to surgically replace her ruined shoulder. As bad as it looked, I kept telling myself that her shoulder really was much better now… But that did nothing to erase that sickly sweet acid taste in my mouth. The queasiness just wouldn’t go away.
I hated leaving my mom alone in the hospital, but I just couldn’t watch her suffer anymore. I needed some space. I had to breathe. I wouldn’t have been able to take it much longer.
If I’d stayed, I would have come unhinged. The last thing the nurses on the floor needed was another patient. I didn’t want to know what they did with family members who suddenly started crying hysterically and were unable to stop.
Still, I felt terrible for leaving. Mom was now alone. For her sake, I wished I could have taken it just a little while longer.
I finally just sat in the dining room and slumped down into my chair, exhausted. A million images of sickness and misery replayed in my mind as I stared blankly out of the picture windows at the night sky beyond. And then it hit me.
Jesus lived in a hospital.
We stop in awe at the way Jesus suffered on the day of his crucifixion. We marvel at how he bore the weight of all our sins as he carried his cross. But what we don’t often realize is that Jesus didn’t just suffer on Calvary. Jesus hurt every day of his life. Here’s why.
Jesus lived every moment of every day seeing his children suffer and die in a fallen world, a world that he originally created to be free of pain and death.
But then sin happened.
We stepped in front of the speeding car of death, refusing to hold his hand. We took one step off the curb of life and met the unyielding fender of the Fall. And just like that, we were all dying. We’ve all been ER patients ever since.
But Jesus came to our hospital. He came in the flesh to our broken world. He came not only to abolish sin and the sting of death, but he also came to comfort and to heal… But in order to do so, he first had to see us suffer.
No wonder he lost so much sleep. He couldn’t help but stay up late to heal the sick, the blind, and those crippled for life. He couldn’t stand to see them in pain. We were his family. It was a hard thing for him to watch.
The difference between Jesus and myself was that Jesus stayed. After less than a day of watching the suffering of strangers and then, finally, the filleting of my most precious Mom, I couldn’t take it any more. I had to leave. But Jesus stayed. For more than thirty years, he lived every moment of every day in a hospital surrounded by our brokenness and pain.
“This was to fulfill what was spoken through the prophet Isaiah:
“He took up our infirmities
and bore our diseases.” Matthew 8:17 NIV
Jesus stayed, and, in a very real way, he’s still here. When he ascended to Heaven, he gave us the gift of his Spirit so that we would never have to be separated from him again.
I realized then that my mom wasn’t alone in the hospital. Jesus was still there, sitting up with her in her hospital room. He was also right there with me. He said it himself: “…surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.” Matthew 28:20 NIV
Whatever you might be going through, whatever pain you might be feeling, remember that you are not alone. Jesus loves you, and he wants to sit up with you through the hardest times of your life. To learn more about just how much he loves you, please visit PeaceWithGod.net
Thank you for reading, and never forget, Jesus loves you.