I have what you might call a chronic intermittent back injury.  Years ago, when I was a youth pastor, I was playing flag football with the young men of our church on a crisp fall Saturday morning.  The field was slippery due to heavy dew, and I forgot to bring my cleats. But I was young and invincible and played anyway in regular sneakers, even though my house was only two miles away and I could have easily gotten the shoes.

During one play, I caught the ball and streaked down the sideline when another youth leader intercepted me.  But instead of attempting to pull my flag, he simply bumped me out of bounds.  It wasn’t a hard hit, but it was enough to flip my feet out from under me. I landed hard on my hips in a way that twisted them way beyond their usual range of motion.  I may have gotten up and tried to play through it, but I was in agony. And by the time I got home, I could barely walk.  It took several weeks and a half dozen visits to the chiropractor before I was back to normal.

Ever since then, every couple of years, with little to no warning, my lower back seizes up.  It hit me once in the middle of the Ocean City boardwalk as I was getting off my bicycle.  It’s happened when I simply reached down to pick up a towel and again a year later when I stretched on my tiptoes to pull something from a high shelf.  It’s weird. I can go months, sometimes a year without a hint of a problem and then out of the blue, WHAM. I’m barely able to move and shuffling around like an octogenarian. It usually takes a couple of weeks for my body to sort it all out.

When this happens, Pam is incredibly gracious and understanding. She babies me, provides ice, ibuprofen, and heating pads. She fetches things for me and, when the pain is particularly acute, even helps me put on my socks and shoes or lifts my foot into and out of the car. It’s a humbling experience, for sure, but when that pain strikes, even the simplest tasks become nearly impossible.

However, Pam’s never experienced it herself.  Mercifully, back issues haven’t been her thing… until last week.  Last week out of nowhere she reached for something and ZAP, she was immobilized by pain.  She recovered in two days… much faster than I typically do. But for a brief time, I got to serve her by getting a cup of tea, heating pad,  or picking up the mail when it fell to the ground.  Her words to me were, “Wow, NOW I know what you feel like!”  Such are the trials of old age.

Interestingly, I knew exactly what she was going through, too.  Her every hesitation, wince, or cautious movement, however small resonated with me.  As I watched her work through the pain, I could almost actually feel it in my back. We call that empathy. While sympathy involves feeling pity or sorrow for someone’s misfortune, empathy goes deeper. Empathy involves understanding and sharing the feelings of another based on personal experience. Empathy is when you can say, “I’ve been there, I know what you’re feeling.” When you’re suffering, it’s reassuring to know that someone else truly comprehends what you’re enduring.

On a spiritual level, our journey with God sometimes feels distant and marked by our limitations. God knows all things, sure… but can he really empathize with our struggles? We tend to envision Him as high above, perfect, and unattainable while we are finite and fragile. And, of course, that is true.  God is transcendent and wholly other.  We can never understand his thoughts and ways.  So, is it possible for him to truly understand us?

But that’s where the miracle of Jesus enters the picture. In His earthly life, God stepped down to our level, fully embracing human existence with all its weakness and temptation. In Jesus, we see the Divine walking in human shoes, experiencing the same constraints, facing the same temptations, and bearing the full weight of our limitations. We’ll never be able to experience what it’s like to be God, so God in his infinite wisdom, chose to experience what it was like to be human.  And when the Divine became human, empathy blossomed. It’s as if in Jesus, God reached out to say, “I know how you feel. I’ve been there, too.”

Hebrews 4:15-16 beautifully expresses this truth:

“For we do not have a high priest who is unable to empathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet he did not sin. Let us then approach God’s throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.”

So let God’s empathy be a source of comfort and strength this week. When you’re tempted to think, “No one understands what I’m going through,” remember that God comprehends, knows, and deeply cares. He’s walked in our shoes, faced our trials, and embraced our humanity. And when you’re tempted, know that Jesus stands with you to empower you against the schemes of the devil.  He too was tempted and has overcome.  And because our God knows, He offers grace, mercy, and victory that transcends our many limitations.