Compassion

The other day, as we were driving home from lunch, we saw a man standing on the sidewalk holding a sign that read "homeless, please help." And as we were sitting there, albeit uncomfortably, waiting for the light to turn green, we couldn't help but to stare straight ahead, as though, if we were to make eye contact with him, we would have to acknowledge his plight and therefore do something about it.

But I kept hearing a little voice saying "we need to help that man." "Do we have any money to give him?" "We need to give him something!"

It was Isaiah's voice. And as he turned from the window, his eyes searching mine, pleading for me to do something...to give something....the light turned green and we drove off.

It was Isaiah's voice, but it might as well have been Jesus' voice.

As we were driving, I turned to Isaiah to explain why we didn't or couldn't give the man money, but they were worthless excuses, and in the eyes of my 6 year old son, I would guess that they were pretty cowardly. Because, as he sat there listening to my reasoning, which in retrospect was anything but reasoning, he replied with tears in his eyes and a crack in his voice "but he needed help mom".

I was convicted.

It is a little bit strange as I sit here writing this blog because "compassion" has been on my mind...a lot. Last week, before we ever came in contact with the homeless man, I was following a group of bloggers who, through Compassion International, traveled to the slums of Kolkata, India to bring to light the darkness and despair that so often grips those who live in poverty. And yet, through Compassion International, we are also able to see the hope and joy that children are given as they learn about Jesus, learn that they are more than the stigma attached because they were born into poverty. These children are given an education, food, and assistance that helps them grow and develop, and the first time in their lives they are given hope.

So all last week, as I was reading about the experiences that these blogger's were having, I couldn't help but feel a little left out. I found myself saying "Lord, I want to be there. I want to be the one to hold these children, to comfort them. I want to take away their pain and make everything right." My heart is broken for these children. And while I know that it will never be made right, not yet anyway, the Lord answered my prayer....

Care for My child who is standing on the sidewalk

I wish now that I would have seen it sooner.

I wish that it did not take the tears of my son to open my eyes.

I so badly want to help the children around the world, but often fail to realize that we are all God's children. Whether we live in Kolkata, Bangkok or Boise we are called to live lives of compassion, caring for the orphan, the widow....the homeless.

The silver lining in all of this is that our prayer for our children has been that they grow up to be compassionate; to have a heart that breaks for the hurting, lonely and downtrodden. And I saw it the other day in my son when his heart broke for the man standing on the sidewalk. I saw it in the tears in his eyes, the quiver of his chin and the crack in his voice.....

"He needed help mom."

We have been given a glimpse of how the Lord is going to use Isaiah. Everywhere he goes, he is concerned about people and hurts when they are treated unfairly. But we also have been given a huge responsibility to foster his heart and shape his character for the Lord, and in order to do that we must show him that it is not enough just to have compassion, but that we must also show compassion.