Compassion

Compassion
If you’re like me you try to do your part. Sure, we take our charity seriously by giving to our local church, supporting a missionary or two, giving to organizations related to our children’s schools and athletic teams. We attend a fund raiser now and then, bid on a ski trip or gift basket at an auction, all the usual stuff. Some months and years we even give the full ten percent you always hear about, if things have gone well. However, that’s where most of us draw the line. We might visit a sick friend in the hospital, but we never even speak to a homeless or handicapped person. Orphans? They’re all down in Mexico, right? Oh, we’re always willing to write a check if someone twists our arm, but we rarely get our hands dirty with the actual work of caring for people. We sub all of that out to others, to "professionals" with more training and time than we could ever hope to spare. Does that sound like you too? My concern is that most of us never serve on the front lines of compassion. We think it’s too far away, too messy, too inconvenient. Sadly, however, we fail to realize that no matter where we are right now there are plenty of hungry, homeless and sick people with ten miles of us ... probably even five. God forbid that we should ever go out looking for them as we would surely find them and feel some sort of obligation to them. No, better to let others look after the poor and indigent while we remain safely in the protected circles of our own whitewashed little worlds. Lest you be offended here rest assured that I have climbed down off of the soap box and am preaching to myself as well. I’m the first one to lift a pen and write a check, but usually the last one to lift a finger, if at all. Regardless of my own inaction, however, in my heart of hearts I know that while God appreciates our money, he really wants our action, our time and talents. He knows that the most costly and frightening thing of all is to expose our hearts to those in need, to love them and draw them into our own lives. That is exactly what Jesus did. He stepped out into the crowd, spoke to hurting people and loved them right where they were. And that, I daresay, is just what He would have us do. That is His example. Oh, we need to participate financially, but real love, real compassion, will always be measured in people rather than dollars. Those are the most costly contributions, the ones which tale the true tale of the state of our hearts.

Compassion
So often the subject of lofty thoughts
Of words which long for deeds
But compassion is empty and incomplete
Until it steps forward to meet the needs
A thousand gallons of passionate tears
Ten thousand hours of prayer
Mean nothing unless we roll up our sleeves
And add action to how we care
It’s far too easy to write a check
Sending others to do our work
Yet unless we serve the broken ourselves
True compassion is something we shirk
The widow, the orphan, the homeless
The hungry and outcast near at hand
Are waiting to know our compassion
And reshape the security we had planned
For however God has blessed us
Has only prepared us to serve
We must allow Him to loosen our heart strings
To rethink who we are and what we deserve
The test of our love and compassion
Transcends what we’re willing to give
God counts the cost of our actions
For true compassion is something we live
By Frank Carpenter ©