compassion – Grits with Grace

Family, friends, Grace, gratitude, heaven, life, love, loving others, prayer, priorities, Scripture, sovereignty of God, thankful

Les was More

Posted on November 8, 2024November 7, 2024 by Dewayne Taylor

When He went ashore, He saw a great crowd, and He had compassion on them.” Mark 6:34a

Simply put…Les was more. I had been the pastor of a church in the village of Cobden located in Southern Illinois. When I went there in 1986, I didn’t know two things. First, this would be my family’s home for the next fourteen years. During that time our lives were bonded with the people of the church and the community in a way that I’m not sure I can describe. Literally, we became family. The memories and relationships of those days remain firmly stamped in our minds and hearts. And, I guess, that is the second thing I didn’t know. So many of the people…young, old, rich and poor, single and married, in the church and out…were so very special. And that leads us to Les.

Cobden had several iconic residents that lived in a local shelter care home. Each one was special, and each one was different. But at the top of the heap was Les. I officially met him one day when he was walking by our church carrying his sickle. He was old for his age and had more wrinkles than he should have. Bent over, he would peer though his squinting eyes and occasionally have a conversation with himself…or maybe God. Anyway, that day, I opened the office door and told Les hello and invited him to come to church. He acknowledged me and asked if I happened to have any coffee. Well, I did and invited him in to have a cup. And that was the beginning.

From that day forward, almost every day, Les would show up at the office and ask, “You wouldn’t happen to have a cup of old, cold coffee, would you.” I can still hear him today. And usually, I could accommodate him. It might be cold and sometimes it was old but to Les it didn’t matter one bit. It wasn’t long before Les started coming to church. Now you would be wrong to assume that Les was a slow thinker. He was anything but that. No, he was just Les, and I loved the way our people grew to love him…sickle and all.

One day, at the office, getting his cup of “old, cold, coffee,” he said to me, “I want to be baptized.” Well, that surprised even me. So, I gave him my full attention and explained that to be baptized you needed to believe that Jesus had died for your sins and believe that He was the Son of God. And that wasn’t all. I explained a person needed to be willing to follow Jesus…kinda making Him the new “boss” of their lives. Well, without a moment’s hesitation, Les assured me he understood all of that. So right there, right then, Les became a Jesus follower.

He then circled back to what had started the conversation…he wanted to be baptized. I asked Les if he understood that to be baptized, he would have to go under the water…all the way under the water. I really wasn’t surprised when he said he did. Now Les was one of those fellows that with age and life had become pretty bent over. To look out, Les had to look up. So, I knew this baptism thing might be a bit of a challenge, but I also knew this was going to be special and it was. So, in a couple of weeks, on a Sunday morning, I stood in the baptistry and took Les’ hand as he came down into the water. I can’t remember but I may have called in reinforcements. But, regardless, I smiled as he gently slipped beneath the waters and came up again. And the church…well…it exploded in applause.

Years later, in fact nine years after I had left our friends and family in Cobden, I received a call from the local funeral home there letting me know Les had died. They wanted to know if I would be willing to come back and do the funeral. I assured them it would be an honor. On that day we said goodbye to Les but really it was more of a “see you later.” You see, Les, because of his commitment to follow Jesus had left the shelter care home in Cobden for a new home in heaven. I also knew that he was no longer bent over by age and life…that he could now look out and not have to look up. Now when he looked up it was to see the face of the Man who loved him and died for him.

As we journey through life, we need to realize that all around us are people like Les. Oh, not necessarily because they might live in shelter care, but more because they are just…special. You see, God’s world is filled with special people…all we must do is learn to see them. It might be a guy at the grocery store or the lady who brings the mail. They might be our doctor or the guy on back of the truck that gets our trash. Why not determine, starting today, to see people as God sees people? Jesus did. When He looked at people, and He did that a lot, He saw them as special and had compassion on them…loved them. We all might need a little help in this department, but the good news is, our Dearest Father is just waiting to help. Just ask…because you know, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

gratitude, life, love, loving others, priorities, Scripture, thankful

Food Truck Day

Posted on July 19, 2022July 18, 2022 by Dewayne Taylor

When He saw the crowds, He felt compassion for them, because they were distressed and dejected, like sheep without a shepherd.” Matthew 9:36

There’s a new food truck in town. I’m a walker…not every day but consistently. I take several different routes but one of my favorites is around the lake at the city park. It was there I met Bubba the goose (for past readers he said to tell you hi), saw the power of integration in the goose families (they are doing fine), saw a man waging a war with people I could not see, and saw the new food truck in town. Let me explain.

We walkers see two kinds of exercisers. Some people come and go, and some are regular as clockwork, they show up to walk each day. Like Forest Gump they start running—or walking—and just don’t stop. These folks become unofficial friends. We may not know each other’s names, what we do for a living or where the other person lives but for those few minutes at the park our lives intersect. And then, there’s the “food truck.”

She loves dogs and really animals. She walks her dogs every day in the park…and there are several. But what is interesting is that for a long time there was a cat walking with her. I mean a lot of people walk dogs, but a cat? The feline wasn’t on a leash but would just quietly walk behind her and the dogs. Talk about intriguing. So, after a while I just had to talk with her. It turns out it wasn’t her cat at all. She met the cat one day while walking and it looked a little thin, so she started dropping some dry cat food on the sidewalk and …well the cat had breakfast and hung around for dessert. There was a new “food truck” in town.

Sadly, one day her feline friend wasn’t there, and I learned that he was hit by a car and didn’t survive. We mourned together…a lady I didn’t know losing a cat she didn’t own but we paused and grieved. But before long, there was another cat. I first saw him on the sidewalk about a block from the park and he was having breakfast on the sidewalk, and I knew the “food truck” had been by. The relationship wasn’t as tight or as long, but she had made a new friend by meeting a need.

Well, one day I was again walking in the park and ahead I saw several squirrels having breakfast. Yup, the “food truck” fed squirrels too. And then a few days later I saw several ducks gathered on the walking trail. Turns out ducks like cat food and they too were having breakfast. The “food truck” was a hit in the park and everyone was invited. But the funniest part was yet to happen.

So, I am walking, and across the narrow lake I can see her walking her dog. Behind her is a group of ducks having breakfast. Then on my side of the lake there are three ducks, and they are on the move. They are waddling as fast as their little legs would take them and they are quacking up a storm. Again, my duck is a little rusty, but I believe they were saying, “Hey wait for us.” So, huffing and puffing they waddled down a small peninsula and jumped in. Paddling furiously, they headed straight across the lake. Like kids chasing the ice cream truck they swam on. It was my last lap for the day but the last time I saw them they were on shore and hollering, “Wait, we’re coming.”

I don’t know my friend’s name, but I do know her impact. Her acts of kindness to animals makes her a hit with them and with me. She just seems to care and really, besides this strange sort of fan club, gets no other reward. She just does what she thinks is the next right thing. I wonder how different our world would be if we did the same. Jesus did. The Book tells us that when He saw people—He didn’t see social class, He didn’t see color—He just saw people and He had compassion on them. He saw them as sheep without a shepherd or maybe like ducks needing breakfast.

Compassion is best defined as simply love in action. It’s seeing a need and then doing what you can to meet that need. Imagine today taking the time to show kindness to someone having a difficult day. Imagine today taking the time to give someone a smile when they are only used to frowns. Imagine today doing simply the next right thing—without reward, without expectation—simply because it is the right thing to do. It might just be amazing. It might just look crazy…like a cat following a lady walking her dog. It might just be game changing.

In a few minutes, I’m going to do my walking thing. I don’t have any cat food. In fact, my shorts don’t even have pockets but I can pack an intentional smile for someone who needs one. I can do that. Sometimes Jesus gave out free lunches to crowds—big crowds. Sometimes He healed broken bodies and spirits. But something that I think we overlook is that He probably smiled…a lot. Imagine His joy as He shared and showed compassion—love in action.

Like the cat, like the ducks following the “food truck,” people followed Him. Not just for the bread, though some did, but because around Him they felt safe. They felt loved. They found a place where they could rest from the craziness of life. We can too. He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Family, forgiveness, Grace, gratitude, life, love, loving others, Scripture, Trials

Blinders

Posted on January 6, 2022January 5, 2022 by Dewayne Taylor

So whatever you wish that others would do to you, do also to them, for this is the Law and the Prophets.” Matthew 7:12

I was blindsided. It was time for a haircut. Now that is a relative statement—you know like relatively speaking. I had five brothers and only two of us are left. All the brothers had hair—lots of hair. No receding hairlines, no clogged drains in the shower, no nothing but lots of hair. And then there is me. While my daddy had a receding hairline, he never lost his hair. Well, that was them and that was him but it sure isn’t me. It started with a receding hairline, then it became a thinning receding hairline and then it became a full-blown retreat. I now have a really, long forehead. I don’t know if it is still in full retreat or if we are holding our own. The jury is still out. So, I’m trying to say that a haircut for me is a relative statement. I am grateful that getting a haircut still doesn’t mean getting a solitary hair cut, but I do remember the days when there were more than a few.

Now, I keep my hair short for two reasons. First, I have grayish white hair and I found it doesn’t look quite as white if I keep it shorter. Second, and I can only guess, it is a carryover from my days with my Daddy and in the military. For the first 18 years of my life my Daddy made sure I kept my hair short (even though it was the late sixties and early seventies). After him, it was twelve years in the Air Force, and they made sure it was short. Well, after 30 years of short hair I figured, why change now? So, the bottom line is about once a month I go see my hair cutter person. Even after a month, my hair is sparse and less than an inch long.

So, I was in the chair, and she was clipping and buzzing along. She has cut my hair for the last 15 or so years so she knows the landscape well. Well, she said, “Dewayne did you hit your head or something?” I assured her I hadn’t, but she was sure something had happened. Well, my wife Judy had gotten me a pair of virtual reality goggles for Christmas. I had used them the night before and the straps fitted tightly around my head, so I assured her that was what she was seeing. Then she said, “Well, let me show you.”

Before I knew it, there was a mirror in my hand, and she turned me around, so I was looking in the mirror. I could see something I had never seen—the back of my head. Oh.My.Goodness. You see, I naturally assumed that my…oh, how I hate to use the word…baldness stopped at the front of my head. I also assumed that I had the mane of Samson in the back. I was wrong. There in the mirror I got to see what everyone else saw all the time. While it wasn’t totally a moon scape let’s just saw it was thin. You might say it was wavy—you know, the hairs there had plenty of space to wave at one another.

Well, I gasped and bless her heart, she did her best to assure me it wasn’t that bad—the average person looking wouldn’t even notice. She said you would have to look really close to see it. She was so nice, but I had the strangest feeling she was not telling the whole truth. And in that moment, I realized that my days of teasing people with a halo at the back of their head were probably over. I had reached a new level of membership in the hair club—or perhaps more appropriately, the “no hair club.” What struck me as funny was I had no idea. I really was blindsided. I couldn’t see what any other person walking behind me could see. To make matters worse, let’s just say that I’m not the tallest guy in the neighborhood. That means everyone taller than me, which is probably 90% of the adult population, had a great view of my impending hair doom.

Well, that started the wheels turning in my mind. I wondered just how many other things are there about me that I am totally blind to? How many times did my impatience at the grocery store show? How many times did my glaring eyes betray my true feeling when some nice “little, old lady” pulled out in traffic in front of me? How many times was my sarcasm not as veiled as I thought? Oh my!

So, I think I might have learned something valuable at the hair cutting place that day. It wasn’t that I should get a hand mirror so I can see the back of my head. No, it was the fact that I should, we should, be aware that people are always deserving of our courtesy, our kindness, our compassion. If we are Jesus people, especially if we are Jesus people, we should make a conscious decision to be authentically nice. The golden rule, which is found in the Bible, says “So whatever you wish that others would do to you, do also to them, for this is the Law and the Prophets.” Truth is it is not always easy to be kind, but it is always right. And when it seems especially hard, don’t panic. God is good at being kind so you can rest assured that He will help you. After all, “He’s got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Family, forgiveness, Grace, gratitude, life, loving others, priorities, Scripture, thankful, travel, Trials, wisdom

Tripped Up by Life

Posted on April 20, 2021April 19, 2021 by Dewayne Taylor

When He saw the crowds, He had compassion for them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd.” Matthew 9:36

Well, it’s a week later. If you are a regular Grits reader you might remember that a week ago, I wrote about my grand adventure as I hiked a local trail called, “Indian Point.” It is an incredible trail and a hike that I will remember for quite a while. Whenever I do something for the first time it kinda hangs in my memory. For instance, this time I remember the first quarter or third of a mile up the hill that the trail was more roots than dirt. I remember after a while there were several short trails leading to some large rock outcrops. I took a detour down one and stood amazed as I surveyed the valley below. I also remember what happened next.

Next was my boot caught a root. In a split second I tripped and landed flat on my face. I told you last week that I fell very hard and it hurt. I haven’t changed my mind. I banged up my left arm and side and well, let’s just say all week the pain just kept right on coming. Finally, on Saturday, almost a week later, I could cough and bend over without my side not so gently reminding me of the fall. My arm, on the other hand, is still plenty sore and I am sporting a really, ugly bruise. It isn’t one of those wimp bruises either. It covers most of my elbow and upper forearm and is a nice purple and yellow color. It’s the kinda bruise when people see it, they say “ouch.”

This past Sunday I returned to Indian Point. My wife Judy was back from her journey to the “Southland” and I wanted to share the trail with her. I narrated the way along the trail and finally we came to the place where I fell. Right in the middle of the trail was the root…the only one, but then it only takes one. I told her, “This is where it happened.” I think maybe she then had a better understanding of my fall and a new appreciation for the bruise that I am still sporting. Perhaps, that experience made my experience better because it became her experience too. I know this is true because right there she gave me a sermon about hiking alone and being careful.

So, do you know someone that is pretty bruised up over life? Has someone shown you their “bruise” recently? No, I’m not talking about the kind that comes from tripping over a root, but the kind that comes from tripping over something in life. An unkind word. An unnecessarily sharp criticism. A sarcastic zinger. The loss of a friend or a job or a marriage? You see, there are a lot of bruised folks around us, and it is important that we stop long enough to feel their hurt and pain. Jesus did that so well. It didn’t matter what, it seemed He always had the time to hurt with someone.

Whether it was a leper, a woman with a bad reputation, or a tax collector hated and disowned by everyone, He always took the time to stop, take a look at their bruised life, and hurt with them. One time He came ashore from a boat ride across the lake and there was a gaggle of people bruised and banged up by their broken world. The Bible tells us that He saw them and then He had compassion on them. He.Saw.Them. In other words, He saw their bruises and then loved them.

So, if you bump into me this week, no pun intended, ask and I will show you my bruised arm. It should be good for at least five or six more days. We can laugh together because of the story, but at the same time it will be a good reminder for both of us to be like Jesus and share another’s hurt and pain. Oh, and be sure and watch out for those roots…remember it only takes one. But if you do fall, I know someone who can pick you up. And if you listen carefully, you will hear Him whisper, “Don’t worry…I’ve got this.” Bro. Dewayne

fear, Grace, life, loving others

Broken Lives, Broken Hearts

Posted on April 14, 2021 by Dewayne Taylor

“Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I will fear no evil. You are with me.” Psalm 23:4

It was late afternoon. My wife Judy and I live on one of the main streets that run through our small city. We have a sidewalk and as you can imagine it is not unusual for all kinds of people to be walking by all the time. Sometimes there are families, loud and happy as they stroll and sometimes it just someone going somewhere. But then sometimes it is a someone like yesterday. Though not all the details were apparent…he wore chapter after chapter of his broken life story.

Life was hard…it was as clear as glass. He was shuffling along pushing an empty shopping cart. At first I thought he was an older man I see walking laps around our block. He pushes a walker and is bound and determined not to let age stop him. But this was not him. This man was older but not that old and life had not been kind. His clothes were wore and tattered. He would take a few steps and then stop and look around and then take a few more. He reminded me of someone I had seen at the park several months ago.

That particular day I was walking in the city park. It wasn’t a casual walk but the exercising kind. That day was like a lot of spring days—the sun was shining, the birds were singing, the trees were doing their “leafing out” thing and it was a good day. Then, I heard something…someone.

I was alone in the park till then. As I crossed the bridge on the North end of the park there was a man in his forties or fifties. He was dressed normally—whatever that means—but that was where normalcy ended. At first, I thought he had one of those things in his ear that enabled him to talk on his cell phone. The closer I got the more I could see and hear.

He was angry. He was shouting. He was cursing. Then he began to pick up rocks and throw them violently in one direction and then another. I realized he was fighting a battle with someone I could not see but he could. To him it was real–very real. He felt threatened and hurt by an enemy only he could see.

That day I prayed. I asked God to deliver him from the invisible demon that was haunting him. I asked God for His peace to come upon this peace-less man. Later I saw him leaving the park, less angry, less violent and no longer cursing. It seemed from where I was that a moment of calm had come to his storm wrecked mind. I was grateful and told God so.

I have thought about that day several times and it came to my mind again yesterday when this man covered with brokenness walked by my house. My verbalized thoughts were, “Oh, Lord, how hard his life must be. Help him…be with him” Soon, he had moved on and I was left alone with my own thoughts. You know, not all people with hard lives walk down streets pushing empty carts. Some are the people you and I pass in Walmart, or maybe it is the neighbor next door or perhaps the person you sit next to in church on Sunday.

The truth is there are a lot of folks fighting and fearful of enemies–enemies that don’t have or need a face to wreck lives. There’s still the COVID thing, the loss of a job or business, the fear of losing their marriage or someone they love, the fear that things will never be the same, the fear that this fear will own them–consume them.

My mind goes back to Psalm 23:4. David, chased by a crazed king consumed with jealousy, chased by too many memories of too many failures writes, “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I will fear no evil. You are with me.” He was wise enough to know that as he walked through this valley it wasn’t filled with real monsters–only monster “wanna-be’s.”

You see, for him the valley became a roadway and not a residence. Death, or things that cause death, because of his faith in a “bigger-than-anything” God, was reduced to a shadow. Shadows can frighten but they can cause no real damage or harm. How did that happen? Well, somewhere along the way David chose to believe his God and he found peace. He said, “I don’t need to fear evil, no matter what it looks like, because You are with me.” You.Are.With.Me.

Today as you journey, remember all around us are people who fight battles with enemies only they can see. Be sure and swift not to judge but to pray. That day in the park and I guess to some degree yesterday, I got it right but trust me I don’t always do that. It’s then that I pray a different prayer–one for forgiveness. And if you are fighting those invisible enemies today–just a word or two. God loves you. Rest in Him. He’s got this. Bro. Dewayne

Family, fear, forgiveness, Grace, gratitude, life, loving others, priorities, Southern born, thankful

Me, Mama, and Mrs. Crabtree

Posted on March 4, 2021March 3, 2021 by Dewayne Taylor

When He saw the crowds, He had compassion on them because they were confused and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd.” Matthew 9:36

I went just a little too far. When you are an overactive six-year-old, church can be quite difficult. My pastor was one of my favorite people but when you’re an overactive six-year-old, preaching can be, well, a little boring. I’ve always loved church music but when you’re an overactive six-year-old, well, the best singers just aren’t enough. Mama tried to keep me busy. Her favorite tool was to give me the bulletin and a pen or pencil and I would color in all the little circles. You would be amazed how many different little circles there were each week. Well, that would work for a while, but you know, when you are an overactive six-year-old, nothing is going to work for long.

Well, one particular Sunday, the circle thing didn’t even make it past the song service. By the time they were passing the plates I was out of things to do. The service was always very predictable. There would be an opening song, the announcements, a couple of more songs, then the offering, a special music thing, and then the preaching. After the pastor finished, we would have one more song and call it a day. Of course, there were always a couple of prayers thrown in for good measure. So, I knew it was just about time for the preacher to start preaching when I heard Mrs. Rosalyn Crabtree start singing.

Now let me tell you right now, Mrs. Crabtree could flat sing. I don’t know if she had voice lessons or not, but she sounded like one of those opera singers. When there was a solo in the choir it was usually Mrs. Crabtree who sang, and more often than not, she sang right before the preacher. She and her husband Jake were two of my favorite people too. They taught me in the youth department when I got older and we even had Rosalyn sing at our wedding when my wife and I were married. They were great folks.

But this Sunday, well, it was just destiny that I was going to get in trouble. I was bored by the time the offering was done, so I started poking Mama in the side. She had her girdle on and it always amazed me just how tight that thing was. Well, she finally had enough of the poking and said so in a way that I knew if I continued, it wasn’t going to be pretty. But then Mrs. Crabtree started to sing. Well, while she was singing, I decided to cover my ears with my hands. Why? Well, I guess that is what overactive-six-year-olds do. Well, when I took my hands down there was obviously a big sound difference. So, I put them back up and then took them down. I had discovered a new game.

I found out if I did this fast it made a “wa-wa” sound in my ears. The faster my hands covered and uncovered my ears, the faster the “wa-wa.” I thought this was pretty grand entertainment. Mama didn’t think so. I stopped for a minute but decided it was worth the risk. It wasn’t. Before I knew it, she and I were heading out the door. I had crossed the line and me and Mama had a little “come to Jesus” meeting. And do you know what? That urge to put my hands over my ears strangely disappeared and has never returned. I guess you could say that Mama discovered a vaccine for that like the one for the COVID virus and it was highly effective. Very.highly.effective.

I am glad that I had a Mama who knew how and when to administer a little discipline…even if it meant taking me out smack dab in the middle of church. And I am glad that we had a church where no one smirked, and no one said I shouldn’t be there. We had a church where families and kids were more than welcome and I have tried to make sure that at the churches I pastor, the same is true today. Rich or poor, black, white, or brown, young, or old—everybody is welcome. I know that is the way it ought to be because that is the way that Jesus did it. I figure if that was the way He did it—we should do it too.

One time when Jesus was teaching, He looked at the people and had compassion on them because He saw them like a flock of sheep needing a shepherd. Compassion—love in action. Compassion—love that says come on in, you are welcome here. I like that. You see, God is an inclusive God. He even invites overactive six-year-olds like me and you into His presence. And He’s always ready to help, always ready to love and always ready to say, “Don’t worry…I’ve got this.” Bro. Dewayne

Family, food, life, Scripture

Food Truck

Posted on June 23, 2020 by Dewayne Taylor

“When He saw the crowds, He felt compassion for them, because they were distressed and dejected, like sheep without a shepherd.” Matthew 9:36

There’s a new food truck in town. For the past several years I have begun my day by walking for exercise. I take several different routes but one of my favorites is around the lake at the city park. It was there I met Bubba the goose (for past readers he said to tell you hi), saw the power of integration in the goose families (they are doing fine), saw a man waging a war with people I could not see, and saw the new food truck in town. Let me explain.

We walkers see two kinds of exercisers. Some people come and go and some are regular as clockwork, they show up to walk each day. Like Forest Gump they start running—or walking—and just don’t stop. These folks become unofficial friends. We may not know each other’s names, what we do for a living or where the other person lives but for those few minutes at the park our lives intersect. And then, there’s the “food truck.”

She loves dogs and really animals. She walks her dogs every day in the park…and there are several. But what is interesting is that for a long time there was a cat walking with her. I mean a lot of people walk dogs, but a cat? The feline wasn’t on a leash but would just quietly walk behind her and the dogs. Talk about intriguing. So after a while I just had to talk with her. It turns out it wasn’t her cat at all. She met the cat one day while walking and it looked a little thin so she started dropping some dry cat food on the sidewalk and …well the cat had breakfast and hung around for dessert. There was a new “food truck” in town.

Sadly, one day our feline friend wasn’t there and I learned that he was hit by a car and didn’t survive. We mourned together…a lady I didn’t know losing a cat she didn’t own but we paused and grieved. But before long, there was another cat. I first saw him on the sidewalk about a block from the park and he was having breakfast on the sidewalk and I knew the “food truck” had been by. The relationship wasn’t as tight or as long but she had made a new friend by meeting a need.

So I am walking, and across the narrow lake I can see her walking her dog. Behind her is a group of ducks having breakfast. Then on my side of the lake there are three ducks and they are on the move. They are waddling as fast as their little legs would take them and they are quacking up a storm. Again, my duck is a little rusty but I believe they were saying, “Hey wait for us.” So huffing and puffing they waddle down a small peninsula and jump in. Paddling furiously they headed straight across the lake. Like kids chasing the ice cream truck they swam on. It was my last lap for the day but the last time I saw them they were on shore and hollering, “Wait, we’re coming.”

I don’t know my friend’s name but I do know her impact. Her acts of kindness to animals makes her a hit with them and with me. She just seems to care and really, besides this strange sort of fan club, gets no other reward. She just does what she thinks is the next right thing. I wonder how different our world would be if we did the same. Jesus did. The Book tells us that when He saw people—He didn’t see social class, He didn’t see color—He just saw people and He had compassion on them. He saw them as sheep without a shepherd or maybe like ducks needing breakfast.

Compassion is best defined as simply love in action. Its seeing a need and then doing what you can to meet that need. Imagine today taking the time to show kindness to someone having a difficult day. Imagine today taking the time to give someone a smile when they are only used to frowns. Imagine today doing simply the next right thing—without reward, without expectation—simply because it is the right thing to do. It might just be amazing. It might just look crazy…like a cat following a lady walking her dog. It might just be game changing.

In a few minutes, I’m going to do my walking thing. I don’t have any cat food. In fact my shorts don’t even have pockets but I can pack an intentional smile for someone who needs one. I can do that. Sometimes Jesus gave out free lunches to crowds—big crowds. Sometimes He healed broken bodies and spirits. But something that I think we overlook is that He probably smiled…a lot. Imagine His joy as He shared and showed compassion—love in action. Like the cat, like the ducks following the “food truck” people followed Him. Not just for the bread, though some did, but because around Him they felt safe. They felt loved. They found a place where they could rest from the craziness of life. We can too. He’s got this.