Taken from No Wonder They Call Him Savior by Max Lucado
They went to a place called Gethsemane, and Jesus said to his disciples, “Sit here while I pray”. He took Peter, James and John along with him, and he began to be deeply destressed and troubled. Horror and desmay came over him, and he said to them, “My heart is ready to break with grief; stop here, and stay awake.” Then he went forward a little, threw himself on the ground, and prayed that, if it were possible, this hour might pass him by. “Abba, Father,” he said, “all things are possible to thee; take this cup away from me. Yet not what I will, but what you will.” (Mark 14:32-36)
Look at those phrases. “Horror and dismay came over.” “He went a little forward and threw himself on the ground.”
Does this look like the picture of a saintly Jesus resting in the palm of God? Hardly. Mark used black paint to describe this scene. We see an agonizing, straining, and struggling Jesus. We see a “man of sorrows.” We see a man struggling with fear, wrestling with commitments, and yearning for relief.
We see Jesus in the fog of a broken heart.
The writer of Hebrews would later pen, “During the days of Jesus’ life on earth, he offered up prayers and petitions with loud cries and tears t0 the one who could save him from death” (Hebrews 5:7)
My, what a portrait! Jesus is in pain. Jesus is on the stage of fear. Jesus is cloaked, not in sainthood, but in humanity.
The next time the fog finds you, you might do well to remember Jesus in the garden. The next time you think no one understands you, reread the fourteenth chapter of Mark. The next time your self-pity convinces you that nobody cares, pay a visit to Gethsemane. And the next time you wonder if God really perceives the pain on this dusty planet, listen to him pleading among the twisted trees.
Seeing God like this does wonders for our own suffering. God was never more human than at this hour. God was never nearer to us than when he hurt. The incarnation was never so fuldilled as in the garden.
As a result, time spent in the fog of pain could be God’s greatest gift. It could be the hour that we finally see our Maker. If it is true that in suffering God is most like man, maybe in our suffering we can see God like never before.
Watch closely. It could very well be that the hand that extends itself to lead you out of the fog is a pierced one.