Courtesy of Merriam-Webster online…
com·pas·sion
Pronunciation: \kəm-ˈpa-shən\
Function: noun
Etymology: Middle English, from Anglo-French or Late Latin; Anglo-French, from Late Latin compassion-, compassio, from compati to sympathize, from Latin com- + pati to bear, suffer
Compassion: sympathetic consciousness of others’ distress together with a desire to alleviate it
Today, the root words forming compassion mean a lot to me: Com - meaning with, or alongside. Pati - to suffer.
Don will soon leave his family to travel to Swaziland. Motivated by compassion. I remember the tears when my wife left with her dad to go meet our kids in Ethiopia. I stayed behind with two of our bio kids and believe me, there was some suffering. The pain of feeling so alone was intense, knowing my wife would be far from home, beyond contact, beyond my ability to provide anything that she might need. Seeing my son and daughter weep like I had never seen them weep before as I peeled my 7 year-old daughter from her mother’s neck. In my weakness, I’m not willing to go through that again… not right now anyway.
That’s why I am so humbled and feel such admiration for Don and his family. I know what they are feeling, and I also know first-hand that the joy that comes from demostrating compassion consistent with God’s plan competely overwhelms the suffering. Especially when our suffering in a short-term mission is just that: short-term.
The pain we felt was the pain of being alone - without someone we love beyond what we can express. But Jenny was with her Dad and our 10 year-old son. I was with her mother and two of our kids. Not alone at all. Not compared to the hundreds of millions of children who wake up each morning with no one to hold them. No one to cry with them, No one to comfort them, No one to tell them they love them. No one to just quietly put a hand on their shoulder and to say, “I’m in this with you”.
Today, think about the little, comforting things you would miss if your loved ones were not with you. Think about kids who long for those comforts with all their being, but will never experience them without you and me. They exist… they are very real. I remember how painful it was for me to suffer the absence of those comforts. Even though I knew Jenny’s absence was short-term, even though I had the benefit of a background of experiencing that kind of support throughout my life. I weep (I actually am right now as a matter of fact - I have an office at work so I can close my door… thank God for small blessings) to think of kids who experience the grief and pain I experienced - but without hope.
I know Don will leave with some questions, among them: “what can I bring to the situation I will see?”. Through Don, God will bring someone to cry with those kids, someone to put a hand on their shoulder, someone to tell them that we love them, and that we will not leave them. He will suffer with them, as will his family who will miss the comfort of his presence - and they will together feel the comfort of God’s joy and peace. That is my definition of compassion today.
Posted by Jim at 08:54 AM. Filed under: Travels • Jim's Existential Ramblings •
