I remember after our home burned, nothing felt comfortable. Not the clothes I wore or the bed where we slept. Every single thing felt itchy and ill-fitting. I would go places hoping to find comfort and quickly realize there was none to be found. I spent a lot of time trying to get comfortable, but nothing worked.

Here I am again, smack dab in the middle of another desert season, and I am uncomfortable. Sleep only comes in two-hour stretches. Machines beep, monitor lights shine in the dark, and my blanket feels scratchy. If I go home, I find myself longing to return to his bedside. Sadly, I’m familiar with the discomfort, but there is a difference this time around. Now I know wilderness discomfort is something I can’t escape, and attempting to make it better is pretty futile.

I think of those in the scriptures who wore sackcloth and covered themselves in ashes. It was an outward symbol of the discomfort of a broken heart. I wonder if Jesus felt this in the desert. Did he feel uncomfortable? Did he toss and turn when he slept on the dusty ground? The scriptures don’t really tell us, but I tend to believe Jesus was probably uncomfortable in the wilderness. I know for sure discomfort doesn’t begin to describe the suffering he endured on the cross.

Jesus didn’t have to suffer. He chose it. He willingly endured all the discomfort of living and dying in this world so that we might be in the very presence of the One who brings real
lasting
never-ending
comfort.

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God.  For just as we share abundantly in the sufferings of Christ, so also our comfort abounds through Christ. 
_{2 Corinthians 1:3-5 NIV}

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I can’t help but think of all those near me who need comfort as I write. Please join me in praying for those who

Oh Lord, bring them comfort
amen.