Luke 22:51 But Jesus answered, “No more of this!” And he touched the man’s ear and healed him.
Picture it: My ears are hurting really bad. Really. Bad. My voice is hoarse and I feel horrible. I feel so bad that I actually dial the phone to make a doctor’s appointment.
A woman answers and I explain my circumstances. Before we can even discuss an appointment time, she has to confirm my insurance. Huh? I sound terrible and I feel even worse and all this woman is concerned with is what type of insurance I have! She says something, can’t remember what, and it makes me really mad. Really mad. I look at my phone and eyeball the hangup button.
(Before I go any further, you have to know something about my personality. I have lots of patience. Lots and lots of it. Unless. Unless I am talking with someone on the phone and they get rude on me. Then all I want to do is hang up on them).
But then the Holy Spirit gets in the way. Whispers: “She must be having a bad day”. So I put the phone back to my ear and ask her how her day is going while I search for my insurance card. We discuss the rain. It takes a few minutes but her tone softens and, when we hang up, I wish Tammy a good day.
And I have a good day, too.
Hmm. Compassion.
In the heat of the moment, when I considered hanging up on this lady, I felt anything but compassion. But God intervened. He stuck a little reminder in my head. At that point, I had a decision to make. Hang up and fume all day or truly be Christ extended in my actions.
When I think of compassion, the idea of walking in someone else’s shoes comes to mind. The night that Jesus was betrayed and ultimately killed, he still chose to heal. He chose to demonstrate compassion towards a person who was an instrument in his death. He knew the soldier was only following instructions and maybe just maybe would feel extreme remorse at the realization of his role in slaying the savior of the world.
I don’t always know what others are feeling but perhaps, like Christ, I can learn to extend grace. Another word for that might be understanding. Or forgiving the unforgivable because we just might make the same mistake tomorrow.
Compassion. I think this is something worth exploring more.
Dear Jesus. Even on the road to death, you extended mercy and forgiveness to all. Help me to extend similar grace to those with whom I come in contact every day at work, at the store, in my neighborhood. Amen.
