We Lepers

In 1873, a thirty-three-year-old Belgian priest named Damien de Veuster stepped off a boat onto the rocky shore of Molokai, Hawaii. He had volunteered to serve at Kalaupapa, the isolated leper colony where the Hawaiian government sent those afflicted with Hansen's disease to live — and die — far from everyone they loved.

For sixteen years, Father Damien bandaged wounds, built homes, dug graves, and shared meals with people the world had abandoned. He did not minister from a safe distance. He ate from their bowls, touched their sores, and embraced their children. Then one morning in 1885, while soaking his feet in scalding water, he felt nothing. The numbness confirmed what he had suspected. He began his next sermon with two words that changed everything: "We lepers."

He had entered their affliction. Not as a visitor, but as one of them.

Isaiah declares that in all Israel's affliction, the Lord Himself was afflicted. He did not send a messenger or delegate. The angel of His presence — God Himself — came to save them. The Almighty chose closeness over distance, shared suffering over safe observation.

Whatever you carry this morning, know this: God has not merely noticed your pain. He has entered it. In His love and His pity, He redeemed them — and He redeems you still.