Yes, it is more common and accepted that we Christians should say, “Christ died for me,” but I’ve had an occasion this morning to recognize, in a significant way, that Christ necessarily sighed for me as well.

I owe this revelation to the Matthew Henry commentary that I picked up on sale at the now, or soon-to-be, closed Borders in Keene, NH.

Have you ever shared with someone something of profound personal grief, or sorrow, and that person’s response was not in words of sympathy or comfort but rather in the physical manifestation of sympathy: a sigh? The gentle, or even gross, release of breath and energy as though they have suddenly realized the burden of your pain on their own shoulders.

It’s been my experience that women show this expression of complete sympathy better than men, but it is equally powerful coming from both men and women. I hope you’ve experienced it. If you haven’t, I’m not sure I can describe it in a meaningful way, but it is looking into someone’s eyes when you share awful news and seeing them deflate because they care about you.

Now imagine the God of the universe doing that.

The eighth chapter of Mark tells of a deaf and dumb man who Jesus took aside and healed. While he was healing the man, he sighed. Imagine, or picture if you will, Jesus looking you in the eye and sighing with sympathy for your sorrows. Who better to understand or sorrow than Jesus?

I am humbled that an all-powerful and all-knowing God would be able to sigh with me; sigh for me. I hope to share His love by showing similar acts of compassion to those who need it.

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