“Praise the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and the God of all comfort. He comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any kind of affliction, through the comfort we ourselves received from God. For as the sufferings of Christ overflow to us, so through Christ our comfort also overflows.” 2 Corinthians 1:3-5, HCSB
When I was eight years old I was outside playing in the ditch in our front yard (in Archibald, LA), barefoot of course, and a piece of broken glass became lodged in the bottom of my foot. I screamed and cried. I limped inside and sat on the couch. My Mom has always been sympathetic and sweet during such instances, but Dad was really the softy. He sat down on the couch and wrapped me up in his arms like only a father could do. Together, they removed the broken piece of glass, bandaged me up, and then Dad just held me for a while. There’s something about the strong arms of a loving father that have the unique ability to make a little boy’s world “okay,” when it seems everything but okay.
Since I became a father myself, I have had innumerable opportunities to comfort my own children in their various afflictions. Sometimes I have failed. Other times, my heart hurt for them as I wrapped them up in my arms and administered to them the fatherly comfort I learned at the hands of my own Dad when I was a child. Comfort from all places is usually welcomed. But, again, there is just something special about the strong arms of a loving father.
As I’ve traversed the land of the living these thirty-five years, I have often found myself in a torment of soul that remains unrevealed and unknown to most around me. Such affliction can be a very lonely place, an interminable desert of emotional isolation. Perhaps you have experienced something similar in your walk with Christ. But there has never been such an occasion in my walk with Christ when God the Father – “the Father of mercies and the God of all comfort” – has not stepped in to wrap me up in His strong, loving arms. Sometimes He removes the instrument of my pain and bandages me up. Other times the object of my affliction cannot be immediately removed, so I find the affirmation and comfort I need by just sitting with Him a while, resting in the grips of His strong arms there in the desert sand.
2 Corinthians 1:3-5 teaches that because I have received such comfort in my sufferings, it is my Christian duty (and privilege) to extend this grace to others who suffer around me. The end of God’s Fatherly mercies and comfort is not my own comfort, but the comfort of those God chooses to place in my company. If I selfishly hoard the comfort of the Father and never extend it to others, I abuse the gift of God. However, if I take the comfort I often receive from Him and extend it freely toward others, I allow myself to be used as a vehicle of the Father’s love. If I love broken people with the heart of Christ then I will go to them with the feet of Christ, speak to them with the voice of Christ, and serve them with the hands of Christ. Sometimes I can help alleviate the pain. Sometimes I can only sit down next to them and help them cry. In this way, God the Father extends His love to the afflicted through me. I become the strong arms of the Father, wrapped around another broken soul. [As a side note, how sad (oxymoronic, even) that Christian arms can often be a source of another soul’s affliction, instead of an extension of God’s long, strong arm of comfort and grace.]
What about you, Christian? What comfort have you received from the Father? And how are you comforting others today with the comfort you have received? There is a time to be the child in the Father’s lap, resting in the security of His strong arms. And there is a time to be an extension of the Father’s strong arm, wrapping yourself around others who are in desperate need of the comfort you have come to know.
Grace and Peace, Tony