Understood

We don’t have a priest who is out of touch with our reality. He’s been through weakness and testing, experienced it all—all but the sin. So let’s walk right up to him and get what he is so ready to give. Take the mercy, accept the help.
-Hebrews 4:15 (MSG) 

There’s a difference when someone thinks they can see where you’re coming from, as compared to having been there themselves. Does that make sense? 

If my kid is nervous the day before school, I can say, “Sure you are, but you’ll be fine.”
But that’s vastly different than me saying, “You know, I remember a time that I was scared to walk into a new place, and it was hard. Let me tell you that story.” 

In the middle of fear and pain, one response feels distant. But the other makes us feel known. 

Of course, it goes deeper than school butterflies. When we walk through pain and trauma, many of us have learned that there are no words that can describe the struggle. It’s only when we meet another who has experienced something similar that we can access a glimmer of peace. We don’t even need to have our issues “fixed.” There’s simply something hopeful about being understood. 

And yet, even when we encounter people who experienced similar pain, fear, or heartache, there is still a limit. Every person is different, and we are complicated. Even when someone has been through something similar, they are not you. They are not able to see into your heart or your head. Not fully, at least. 

Years ago I had a conversation with a friend of mine who I would later lose to addiction. He was sharing honestly about his many struggles, and how even his hardest circumstances were somehow nudging him toward Jesus. He texted me a simple statement that will stay with me forever, about a conviction that he came to hold. 

"I have a Christ who suffered, and that’s how I know he identifies with me."

So simple. So life-changing. 
We are given a confidant. A friend. A Lord. A brother… who has the ability to see into the depths of our pain and struggle. But he also experienced all the emotions we could ever imagine. And he hurt. He hurt hard. He gets it. 
Rejection. Loss.
Pressure. Anxiety. 
Betrayal. Victimization. 
Temptation. 

Maybe that’s why Jesus is called “God with us” as his nickname in the Bible. 
Jesus looks at us squarely in the eyes, seeing past our walls of insecurities and our silent arguments with nobody in particular about how hard life is, or parenting, or dealing with this heartache, or that disease, or this addiction, or that uncertainty, or this responsibility. And instead of telling us to get over it, we hear a voice of gentle humility. ​


I understand. 

Do we believe this? That Jesus understands? Or have we completely stripped away the humanity of Jesus to the point where we say he was human, but we really think he was mostly God.... so obviously he wasn’t really like us. Maybe like 60/40?

When we embrace the extra-ordinary humanity of Jesus, that’s actually when his divine nature explodes into our lives. That’s the moment that we realize that we are truly, entirely, and impossibly… understood. 

More than your parents understand you. 
More than your spouse understands you. 
More than your best friend understands you. 
Even more than google understands your needs and wants. 

 When we begin to trust that Jesus understands our struggle, and really trust it…
Then we can let him lead us toward the way of life, however difficult that might be. 
Because you’re not alone. 

You are understood. And you are loved.

Jesus, meet me where I am today in a way no one else can. Lead me on from there.

Peace,
Keith*

*I'm on sabbatical until July 7th, so for a while Together For Good will be highlighting our favorite reminders from the archives. Don't worry, if I can't remember writing half of them, I'm hopeful they'll be fresh reminders to you as well! ​

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