A Pair of Suspenders

I was walking down Dundas St. W., going about my day in the city of Toronto. Seeing a man step out onto the sidewalk, I was stymied. With his back to me, a pair of suspenders crisscrossed on his back, I burst into tears. Yes. Right there. Behind a complete stranger. Muttering under my breath, I took stock of the situation. He had reminded me of my Dad; tall, broad-shouldered and wearing suspenders.

I didn’t know grief would just show up like that, ten years after Dad’s death. It took my breath away. For a brief moment, I felt ashamed. Yes, ashamed. Looking around, I wondered if anyone saw me; heard me. Would I be misunderstood? My soul cried out to the One who would completely understand. “Lord, hold my heart. I remember: “You have kept count of my wanderings. Put my tears in your bottle. Are they not in your book” (Psalm 56:8)? I let the grief wash over me. Embracing sorrow seems counter-intuitive, but it is an intrinsic element of being human. Comforted by the nearness of my Saviour, I met the rest of my day with a sweetened sense of His very near and dear presence.

The Lord Jesus understands death and grief. He continues to carry the scars and will do so for eternity. His grief, over humanity’s sin, will forever be expressed by the nail-prints in His hands and feet, and by the hole still in His side.


Thomas, in John 20:25, famously said: “Unless I see the nail marks in his hands and put my finger where the nails were, and put my hand into his side, I will not believe.” Sure enough, “A week later his(Jesus) disciples were in the house again, and Thomas was with them. Though the doors were locked, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you!” Then he said to Thomas, “Put your finger here; see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it into my side. Stop doubting and believe. Thomas said to Him: ‘My Lord and my God’’ (John 20: 26-28).

It is incredible to me. Not only did Jesus identify with us in becoming a baby, growing up into manhood and then dying on a cross. You would think He would have gone back to heaven, no longer needing His humanity, having completed His work of salvation by dying for our sin and rising again. But no, He has retained His humanity.

Forty days after His resurrection: “And while they were gazing into heaven as he went, behold, two men stood by them in white robes, and said, “Men of Galilee, why do you stand looking into heaven? This Jesus, who was taken up from you into heaven, will come in the same way as you saw him go into heaven” (Acts 1:10,11). "In the same way."  Jesus still identifies with us; with me. He is still the man of sorrows, acquainted with my grief. His forever incarnation is a great comfort to me.

No religion in the history of man has brought God so close to humanity. No other faith portrays God, in the flesh, identifying with us completely. “And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen His glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth” (John 1:14). I have mourned many deaths since that day, over seventeen years ago. I am always saddened. But, for those who are in Christ, I sorrow yet as one having hope. I will see my Dad again. And that is a great comfort. But first, I will see Jesus. There is no one else worthy of praise; there is no one else who comforts like Him.