The Key of Empathy

Dearest Daughters,

A number of years ago, I had a pivotal moment that gave me a key in learning how to relate to people in a way that is more effective and helpful.

We were trying to help a young woman who was walking through a very difficult family crisis that involved unbelievers connected to her life before she came to the Lord. She was fearful for her children and their safety, and, as is fitting for a mother, her heart was fixed almost entirely on them. Every attempt she made to move the situation toward resolution was undermined by her own fear, expressed through defensive words and actions.

After multiple counseling sessions with her and others who were helping, I found myself unsure of what to do. I felt a deep compassion for her, yet everything seemed to circle back into the same self-defeating pattern.

One night, before bed, I began to pray. I asked God to please speak something to me that might help bring light into the situation.

That night, I had a dream.

In the dream, your dad and I were speaking with others who were also trying to help this young woman, and suddenly I said, “The Lord has told me that empathy is the key and the message.” I woke with those words still resounding in my mind, and with a strong sense of the Spirit of God surrounding me.

As I lay there and prayed, I felt the Lord impress again on my heart: “This is exactly what I did.” And immediately, my thoughts turned to Jesus—

“And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us . . .” — (John 1:14)

Empathy is, in essence, what Jesus did. He clothed Himself in our humanity, our thoughts, our frailty, our suffering, even our capacity to die. He did not love us from a distance, but from within the very limitations we carry. I felt the Lord showing me that I must, in some small way, do the same.

I needed to step inside this woman’s world—to feel as though her children were my own. How would I think? How would I respond? What fears would grip my heart?

Over the next day or two, I practiced this. I knew I could never fully carry the weight she bore, but even the attempt began to reshape my thoughts and soften my responses. It governed the way I saw her, and, more importantly, how I would speak to her.

When we met again, I shared this same truth with her: that if she truly wanted to move toward resolution, she would need to step into the hearts of those who were hurting her and to understand their fears, their wounds, their perspectives.

This is the way of Christ.

“Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others.” (Phil. 2:4)

So often, we are wounded by others, sometimes even those we love, and who love us. And when we are hurt, we naturally retreat into our own perspective. We see only our angle, our pain, our justification. But if we remain there, we lose, and everyone loses.

Christ offers us another way. His love becomes a bridge that allows us to cross over into another’s experience. In a very real sense, He takes on flesh again through us when we allow His love to move within our hearts. We begin to clothe ourselves in another’s fears, another’s hurts, and from that place, we can speak truth with gentleness, and love with power.

This is the key to understanding. It is the key to your marriage. You are female; he is male. There are differences that will, at times, feel like barriers But in those moments, ask God to help you step inside your husband’s thoughts—his pressures, his concerns, his silent burdens.

With your teenagers—ask Him again.
With your neighbors—ask Him again.
With those who wound you—ask Him especially.

This is what will make you an effective vessel of love. This is what makes the love of Christ visible again on the earth—His body still living, still moving, still reaching through His people.

May God help us all to become expressions of His love, even in the midst of our human weakness.

With all my love,
Mom