In my own estimation, my life has been easy. I was born in the covenant with a mother and father who showed me love, and were textbook examples of God-fearing parents. As yet, I have not experienced a debilitating disease, or a stressed marriage relationship. My children are happy and healthy. I have a good job, and am able to provide for my family without fear of overarching financial burden. I have access to clean water, every single day. I am able to read. In a very literal sense, I am blessed beyond measure.
As I sit at my desk, with my fingers on my keyboard, I am mindful of those in the world who are experiencing pain and adversity. These pains and adversity are grievous to be borne, and difficult to comprehend and discuss. In the view of many, these trials are often stigmatizing, and unrelatable. Yet to many, they are so often commonplace, they just call it ‘life.’ The pains of loosing loved ones to the sting of death. The stress of being saddled with the responsibility to provide for a wife and children, but having not the means to do it. The pains of having a marital relationship fall apart for reasons not fully understood. The pains of mental illness.
The last couple weeks, I have been a part of several conversations that have highlighted to me the stark reality of the trials and vicissitudes that people deal with, every single day. The common theme in these conversations has been feelings of hopelessness and helplessness. Individuals whom have felt that help is beyond their own mortal reach and that hope is a feeling that will never return. Nearly to tears, I am moved as I think about those who feel utterly helpless and hopeless. Individuals, who are certain that the adversity they are experiencing, will surely conquer them. Those who feel like they have no other option, but to throw their hands in the air and declare, “I give up.”
To the man or woman whom I have just described, I say this: there is one who takes away the pain; even Jesus Christ. The one who without regard for himself, took upon Himself your trials and infirmities. The one who, with love immeasurable, stepped into the garden of Gethsemane and for you suffered pain beyond comprehension, that you might find peace. The one who when suffering “even unto death,” “went a little further.” This love is difficult for me to comprehend, but impossible for me not to feel.
On this Easter Sunday, I add my testimony to the many: He lives. He loves. He will take away your pain.