"He Knows Me"

“He had to become like his brothers and sisters in every respect, so that he might be a merciful and faithful high priest in the service of God, to make a sacrifice of atonement for the sins of the people.” Hebrews 2:17

I had an interesting discussion with my therapist yesterday. (Oh no, there I went and said it. Yes, I happen to see a therapist. Actually, I believe it’s a necessity for pastors, or any in the people-helping professions…back to my story.) He was new. I have seen the same person for the last five years and I have developed a trust in her, and she knows my background very well. But, because of a traffic accident, she is out of commission for a while.

I am always anxious when meeting new people, especially professionals. It isn’t just doctors, I hate changing to a new barber. I paid my daughter $10 to cut my hair all during her teen years. I got my first professional cut in over six years last week. It wasn’t that bad. Actually, it is never that bad once I start the dialogue with the new dentist, doctor or visitor to our church.

But, psychiatrists are on another level altogether. When I tried to keep my gaze level, keeping eye-contact, I wondered if he thought I was fixed on his face for too long. Then, once I turned away I thought, “Oh no, now he’s making mental notes that I break off eye contact first.” Usually when I’m sharing a story or simply having conversation, I’m not ultra-aware of those details, but therapists do that.

There were two chairs in his office; one right next to his desk, and one skewed away. It was a bit further away than the first, but the desk didn’t block our view, and I chose that one. In the few seconds it took to sit down I wondered if he thought, “Mark chose the one further away. He has intimacies problems.” Of course, if I had chosen the one next to his desk I would have feared my choice marked a lack of boundaries, sitting within his personal space. And, in this case, things didn’t get better once we started talking.

I usually like my doctors. I can’t think of any I have actually disliked, though I have been more comfortable with some than others. But, after sharing the niceties and personal history one does with a new therapist, I also told him about my battle with chronic headaches. I even mentioned the actual diagnosis: “New Daily Persistent Headache.” I told him I had been under the care of the top neurologist in the field (in our part of the country), until he retired a year ago due to cancer. Sad that I wouldn’t have his insight to my care any longer, I did see a pain specialist closer to home that my neurologist suggested.

I shared the diagnosis and the medications I was on. I wanted to give him a holistic view of my life. I figured, no matter the specialist, I like them to know the other stuff that is happening. I don’t expect my neurologist to do talk therapy with me, or my ear, nose and throat doctor to comment on remedies given by the pain specialist.

But that is what happened the other day. Only a few moments after sharing my battle with NDPH, the therapist questioned the drug regimen I was on, and even the diagnosis itself. He went as far as to say that one of the medications (a strong muscle relaxant), could very easily be a source of my headaches, known as rebound pain. Some analgesics will sort of backlash on a person if taken constantly over time. And, more headaches, more pills, a terrible pain cycle.

The thing is, I was nearly certain his information was not true. I had been using this muscle relaxant occasionally in the evenings when my head pain was unbearable. Though it did little to relieve the actual pain, it relaxed me enough that I wasn’t adding to the pain with tension around my shoulder, neck and head.

Truth was, I was right. I read several articles on the drug when I returned home. I discovered that, not only does the muscle relaxant not cause rebound headaches, it is actually used in rebound therapy. It is one of the drugs physicians use to help ease a patient out of rebound pain.

Long story, right? My concern was I had a therapist who thought himself an expert on everything, including myself…and that after only our first meeting. We all wish people understood us. The best therapists (and doctors, and barbers, and retail therapists) have learned that their patients want to be heard; not just heard, but understood.

So, though the “introduction” is exceedingly long, let the application be brief. Jesus came and lived as a man among us humans. He didn’t have protective skin to shield him from the hot desert sun. He didn’t have instant immunity to keep him from childhood colds. Apart from His reliance on the Holy Spirit, He didn’t even come pre-equipped to be invulnerable to temptation. He became like us “in every respect.”

He had to. His mission demanded it. And yet, greater than that, His mercy drove Him to don the ragged robe of humanity, laying aside the glory and majesty as Heaven’s Sovereign! On the cross He took our sin, understanding its great cost. Can I posit one other thought; he also took it with a complete understanding of the difficulties we face when temptation lures us away from our best intentions.

In the Garden, ready to march into Herod’s halls and lay His body down for all of us, He cracked for the merest moment. “Father, if You are willing, take this cup away…” We are shown Jesus’ completely humanity as He recoils from all the horror the cross represents. Quickly, though, He adds, “Yet, not my wills, but Yours.” I am glad Jesus, my merciful and faithful High Priest, not only knows the cost of my sins, but He knows their power as well.

He is able to comfort me, counsel me, and strengthen me as I also sometimes ask, “Father, if there is any way…let this thing change.” I hear my Perfect High Priest sigh, not out of disappointment, but out of identification. “I have been there, My son.” With that help, I can follow Him and pray, “But, please, not my will, but Yours.”