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Blog

Inspiration, encouragement and devotion from the members of Faith Tabernacle in Conyers, GA. A church blog devoted to helping you grow in your relationship with Christ. 

Faith Tabernacle is a pentecostal church whose goal is to help our community find joy and strength in Christ through the application of Biblical principles and life skills.

Growing Compassion

Summer Neal

By: Shawnna Hewett
Edited by: Summer Neal

Megan had headlice. 

I knew it, my parents knew it, my whole 6th grade class knew it.

She smiled when she saw me. My scalp crawled, itching savagely in response. I knew she wanted a hug. She always wanted a hug. I cringed inside... but I gave her one. 

I had no idea why I always did it. She had given me headlice in the 2nd grade and the 4th grade. We had classes together again this year, so I knew what was coming:

Endless hair-washing, smelly chemicals, washing absolutely E-V-E-R-Y-T-H-I-NG, and hours of tedious combing. I squirmed, anticipating the bites and the prickly feeling of creepy-crawly bug feet. 

And yet, I hugged her every time. 

I was not a people-pleasing child. I did not do things to gain friends. If a kid did not like me, they were simply missing out on all of my glorious weirdness. Oh yes, I was weird. Imaginative. Off-beat. And I embraced it fully. I did not hug this girl to gain her friendship. In fact, we would not have to go through all the annoying nit-killing hoopla if I did NOT hug this girl.

So, why did I hug this girl every time she ran up to me at the beginning of the school year? 

I guess I did it for her.

There was this tiny feeling of compassion...an imperfect,  underdeveloped feeling... but it was there, nonetheless. 

It was like an acorn with a green sprout, cracking through the tough skin. 

Megan had no friends. She was in the 6th grade and in many ways, she would always be the same girl I met in the 2nd grade. She was so sweet, but overly trusting...and children can be cruel. 

I had no desire to get headlice again. If I'm honest, I had hoped I would not have classes with her that year. But when she ran up to me I could not deny her the smallest kindness, the only kindness she would ever ask of me- a hug from a friend. 

This compassion I felt was only a seed; fragile and incomplete. It was there and I did not ask for it. It did not benefit me. At 12 years old, I was selfish. I did not care about this seed of compassion. But without asking my opinion on the matter...God had plans for it to grow. 

In the Fall of that same year, I would become acquainted with grief.

My dad was killed in a plane crash. Suddenly, I understood loss. I understood sadness beyond just having a bad day at school, being frustrated with homework, or getting upset at friends. I had lost one of my two biggest supporters in life.

I would begin to notice other children having deaths in their family. When the rest of the children in my grade remained blissfully unaware of grief, the bereaved children would find me and talk to me.

They wanted to talk to someone who had been there. They wanted to be comforted. They wanted to know that the darkness would not last forever.

Like the hug I gave Megan, this was another small kindness I could not deny and the seed began to sprout and push through the dirt.

A year later, my mom and I moved closer to the city of Nashville. It was much different than the small town I was from in East Tennessee.

It was more crowded. There seemed to be more rushing, more urgency, more hostility. The people were different. The children were different. Blood ran hot. Life in this place had a more harsh undertone than the sleepy town of my childhood. 

Many of the kids I went to high school with were broken. And they found me.

They would tell me things that they could not tell their parents or their other friends. Horrifying things. Shameful things. Heartbreaking things.

Sometimes it was about a parent who didn't know how to show unconditional love. Sometimes it was about something they regretted doing. Sometimes it was about something that was done to them.

Of course, there were lots of stories about teenage heartbreak. On occasion, there were stories about abuse. Some of them told me the reasons why they leaned on drugs & alcohol. Some of them told me why they cut themselves or thought of suicide. 

These kids were drawn to me, telling me their darkest secrets and fears even though I had no solution to offer them. I learned to listen and not jump to conclusions, quickly realizing how little I knew about their lives. I had nothing to offer but the time it took to listen to them and a hand-squeeze of encouragement. 

Even though I grew up in the church, I was not very mature in my beliefs. In those days, I did not pray to get closer to God. Instead, my prayer life began as a plea for these kids and their broken lives.

I knew the power of prayer was unbeatable. My mother taught me that. If anything could help these kids, it was the power of the Holy Ghost that could only be reached in intercessory prayer. I did not know what to say when they came to me with these terrible confessions. But I knew how to pray because I was shown how.

These seeds of compassion sprouted a thickening stalk that would grow taller and heartier each year.

One of my very best friends in early adulthood struggled with anxiety and depression.

I naively believed that a person could "snap out of” it. I thought it was a mindset, that you had to choose to think positively or "just pray more". But my friend had experienced trauma that needed to be worked through. God brought him through the darkest times. He has been making peace with his issues throughout the recent years. 

Later due to genetics, I would also struggle with anxiety and I would know what it felt like from the inside. 

I would have more loved ones who would deal with depression and suicidal thoughts. 

I would begin to realize that there are MANY causes of anxiety and depression and that you cannot approach each person the same way.

A bad childhood, negative self-talk, traumatic experiences, toxic family environments, chemical imbalance, hormonal imbalance, genetics, head-injuries, inflammation in the system, and many other reasons can cause anxiety or depression. 

Yes, sometimes it is a spiritual attack. Sometimes you "just need Jesus". Where man fails, God will not. Prayer is NEVER the wrong answer. Prayer can bring healing, peace, miracles, and answers. 

But it IS also possible for those answers to come in the form of medical science. God gave humans the understanding to repair the function of the body and the mind.

The brain is an organ, just like a kidney. Sometimes it does not function properly. If you have diabetes, the doctor may give you insulin. Just as there is no shame in seeking treatment for the body, there should be no shame in seeking treatment for the mind.

And sometimes.... you just need someone to talk to. 

As a teen and young adult, you make mistakes. You say things in response that seem right, but you may tend to over-simplify the issue. And often, you don't see the full scope of the situation because you just haven't been alive long enough. You really do understand better when you're older.

And YET...

The seeds of compassion are STILL growing and trying to develop in adulthood.

"He is like a tree planted by streams of water that yields its fruit in its season, and its leaf does not wither. In all that he does, he prospers." - Psalms 1:3

At 38, my compassion still is not perfect. I still have to nurture and develop it. But I thank God that it has not stopped growing. If I continue to water it, it can grow as tall and strong as a mighty oak tree. My prayer is that it will bear fruit in each season I will face.

Ecclesiastes tells us that there is a season for everything, that there is a time for every purpose. 

I sometimes get frustrated that I did not have the insight to offer better words when I was younger. And I know I will feel the same way in 20 years about the words I offered people in my 30's. But maybe it was not the season for me to know the answer then. Maybe all they needed was a listening ear and a shoulder to cry on.

This is what I tell myself so I will stop obsessing about missed opportunities to speak healing words. But it is also true. While there is a seed growing in my heart, there are seeds of others that we are called to water. Just as there were those who brought the water to us when we needed it. 

If I stay rooted by the water...the living water... I will eventually bear fruit. 

There are different seeds in each of us. You may have the seeds of boldness, evangelism, faith, healing, intercession, servanthood, wisdom, obedience, compassion, leadership, worship, joy, peacemaking- the list goes on!

Throughout your life, you are drawn to certain people and they are drawn to you. If you look closely, you can see a pattern. This pattern has purpose to it. 

What is the pattern of your life? What is God trying to grow inside of you? 

I believe if you water the seed and protect it from the things that would try to destroy it, you will walk right into the place you are needed most.

"The tree you saw, which grew and became strong, so that its top reached to heaven, and it was visible to the end of the whole earth." -Daniel 4:20