Although it hasn’t slowed him down very much and he certainly doesn’t consider himself handicapped, he does notice that he is different than others. He is getting to the age now where he is conscious of the stares and unkind comments about his “nub.” He recently told his mother that he wanted two hands like all of his friends. His “thorn in the flesh” was starting to become emotionally painful to bear—both for him and for all of us who love him so much and want the best for him. We hurt when he hurts. We feel badly when he feels badly.

In decorating her home for Christmas, our daughter put out the olive wood nativity set she received from us as a Christmas gift when we lived in Israel many years ago. It had taken a few “hits” through the years and through the many moves it had been through . There were a few chips and dents and a piece broken off here and there. One day, three year old Gavin excitedly exclaimed, “Mommy look! Jesus has a nub just like me!” Part of one of the carved wooden arms of the “baby Jesus” in the nativity set had been broken off. Who knows when the damage had occurred? It was so small that none of us had even noticed before. Yet, Gavin noticed. He was thrilled that Jesus had a “nub” too. Our daughter, Tiffany, explained to him that Jesus doesn’t really have a “nub,” but that He understands exactly what it is like for Gavin to have one. In that tender teaching moment, she once again taught him about the resurrection and how Jesus’ atonement ensures that someday Gavin will have a hand like everyone else. That satisfied him. “That’s okay, Mommy,” Gavin said, “I like my nub. I’ll keep it forever.”

What had been seen as a handicap—a burden, an embarrassment—was now seen in a much different perspective. Gavin was able to deal with his challenge better because he understood, even as a three year old, that Jesus understands what it is like to have a “nub,” that He will help Gavin throughout life, and someday give him a glorified body with an arm and hand that were missing in mortality. Just as Gavin rejoiced in Jesus having a “nub” like him, we all long to know that Jesus understands us, relates to us personally, and can succor us in our unique challenges and “thorns in the flesh.” We all want to have Jesus a little more like us, so we can trust that he really knows our pains and understands our weaknesses.

Thankfully prophets and apostles have testified that we indeed have a Savior who not only understands the burdens we carry, but carried them himself long before we bore them. He can strengthen us in our suffering, because He suffered all that we have to endure and more before we did.

In fact, Jesus knows what it is like to be every one of us. He knows us personally. He knows what we struggle with and what pains afflict us, because He experienced it all when he descended below all things (see D&C 122:8). That painful descent was part of what Elder Neal A. Maxwell called the “awful arithmetic of the atonement” (see Ensign, May 1985, 70-73).

Alma declared: And he shall go forth, suffering pains and afflictions and temptations of every kind; and this that the word might be fulfilled which saith he will take upon him the pains and sicknesses of his people.

And he will take upon him . . . their infirmities, that his bowels may be filled with mercy, according to the flesh, that he may know how to succor his people according to their infirmities. (Alma 7:11-12.)

Succor is not a word that we use much in our normal, everyday conversations. Yet, it is a powerful word that conjures important images of help and aid. The word comes from the Latin succurrere which means literally “to run to help.” It implies “urgent assistance.” Have you ever succored someone—literally run to their assistance? Probably every parent has had the experience of hearing that “blood-curdling” cry of an injured child. We bolt into action immediately—a nanosecond probably doesn’t even pass before we are “off to the rescue.” There is nothing that prevents us from “running to” that beloved child.

Do you see the beauty of that imagery as you read Alma’s words again? Do you see the Savior bearing your burdens as well as mine, suffering your personal pains and mine, feeling our individual feelings of discouragement, inadequacy, and fear? What an incredible thought—because Jesus is filled with infinite compassion and mercy, because He intimately knows me and you, because He has been literally “touched with the feeling of our infirmities” (Hebrews 4:15)—He “runs to” our assistance! What comfort! What hope! What strength! I have felt His succoring aid.