I’m Compassion. How Do You Do?

Yesterday we missed a wedding.  I’ve known the bride my whole life.

Granted, we were never close.

And we weren’t actually invited to the wedding.

But I picture it taking place in an apple grove, with some sort of ivy winding up and over a wrought iron arch.  A gorgeous Autumn ceremony.  The minister is just getting to the heartwarming stuff at the climax of his speech.

Suddenly all you can hear is








That’s Riley yelling “APPLE!” and waiting for someone to notice his brilliance in suggesting the name of the nearby fruit at the top of his lungs.  There he goes, scooting in between rows of guests, squealing and laughing.

Then there’s another noise, sort of quietly violent, as Riley’s mama starts losing her cookies.  Must have been a bad apple.  Someone catch that kid!  He’s getting too close to the bucket!  He’s getting too close to the bride!  He’s as curious as a cat and as fast as boiled Crisco!

I bet they wish they’d invited us.

The point is, I learned a lot in the last day or two.  I’m joking about the wedding.  Someone I know did get married, but my 1:30A.M. mind just thinks it would have been hilarious if our comical circus had showed up. 

You see, I never thought I’d be the parent with the rambunctious toddler.  MY children were going to stay perfectly in line. 

And I, not having actually thrown up in 16 years, never had much compassion for those who got stomach bugs.  It was more like, “Oh the poor thing.  Glad I didn’t get it…”

But you, Lord, are a compassionate and gracious God, slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness.  Psalm 86:15.  I posted that as my verse for the weekend, and funny thing – God’s been teaching me to have compassion – to sympathize with those who struggle or suffer.

After all, I was one of those rambunctious toddlers whose heart was good and happy and whose bum never hit the chair.

And now I was one of those poor souls hunched over the garbage can while my loving husband rubbed my back, and my parents whisked our children from the room.

Thank you, God, for your love and faithfulness – for getting me through and reminding me how much I need you.  Maybe I’ll have the chance to reach out to someone soon in compassion.

I feel like now I can say sincerely, “I know what you mean!  Let’s get through it together.”


5 thoughts on “I’m Compassion. How Do You Do?

  1. Well, now that’s a wedding I’d *like* to go to! Thanks for putting a smile on my face today, someone named mama around here has been very grumpy and irritated easily today with kids that run away when you nicely tell them to come and expect them to obey, or run away when you try to put their pants on, or ask you a question when you are concentrating on something else and keep asking it 5 more times, louder each time until you turn around and lose it, or perhaps climb all over the back of the chair you are sitting in as you try to comment on someone’s blog.

    • Well you just made me laugh too because that sounds like our house 🙂 Did you ever listen to Cosby’s routine about the kid “Jeffrey” on the plane? “Jeffrey come here. Jeffrey, come HERE! Jeffrey, JEFFrey, JEFFREY!” I can identify with that now. Riley’s such an awesome boy and has a real sweet heart. I love him to pieces. He’s actually at my parents’ right now so that he can stay germ-free. I’m missing him a lot. All I need for perspective after a rough day or two is a day or two of not being able to hug him or hear him say “Wowwa!” about every truck that goes by. Isn’t motherhood crazy? You love them so deeply, even when they drive you to the brink of insanity.

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