I came upon the accident suddenly. Peering through the rain as I approached an intersection, I saw two cars that had collided in front of me. Their front ends were crushed, and glass littered the street. Deployed airbags hung like curtains from the windows, blocking my view of the occupants. My CPR training scrolled through my brain like a news ticker. Assess the situation. Call for help. Administer care.
“Oh, Lord, please don’t let anyone be hurt,” I prayed.
I’ve always struggled with compassion, but the quality has been growing in my heart. As a young believer, I took a spiritual gift inventory, eager to discover my special giftings from the Lord. I checked the boxes and assessed myself as honestly as I could, then submitted the evaluation to my pastor. He tallied the numbers and studied the results.
“Your greatest strengths are teaching and administration,” he said. “Not surprising since you’re a firstborn and a homeschool mother.”
He studied the sheet again. “You scored the lowest in the mercy category.” He paused, attempting to lighten the news, and said, “I guess we won’t nominate you for the hospital visitation committee.”
Nothing my pastor said that day surprised me. I knew I was organized and that I liked to teach. I also knew I struggled with compassion and mercy.
When my kids or husband were sick or hurt, I sprang into action. I diagnosed them and got them the care and medicine they needed, but I struggled with the warm fuzzies that play an equally important role in care giving.
As I grew in my relationship with Christ, I learned that scoring low in the mercy category of a spiritual gift inventory didn’t excuse me from practicing mercy and compassion. In fact, as Paul said in 1 Corinthians 12:31, I should eagerly desire the greater gifts. And mercy is certainly a greater gift.
Jesus epitomized mercy and compassion. Over and over, I read in the gospels how He met people’s physical and spiritual needs because He had compassion on them. He fed the hungry, healed the sick, and extended forgiveness to the spiritually destitute, but He didn’t stop there. He allowed His heart to be touched by their suffering. Not at all like me, who would hand someone a pill or a Band-aid and send them on their way.
The morning of the accident, I’d read the story of Jesus’ encounter with two blind men on the road to Jerusalem. What a classic example of our Lord’s tender heart. He’d just announced to His disciples that He was going to Jerusalem to be mocked, scourged, and crucified. A large crowd pressed in around Him as He began the long road to Calvary, yet over the noise and press of the people, He heard voices crying for help.
Those with Jesus did their best to silence the blind men, but the men persisted in calling out to Him. When He had heard their request, “Jesus had compassion on them and touched their eyes” (Matthew 20:34).
For years, I did compassionate things because it was the right thing to do. But to my surprise, the more I acted in compassionate ways, the more I began to feel compassion for those I ministered to. I was developing the heart of Christ.
With Jesus’ tender example still fresh in my mind, I headed home from an appointment.
The cold rain dripped from the sky and made the day miserable. The temperatures hovered just above the freezing point, and an occasional gust of wind blew raindrops sideways. I couldn’t wait to get home, curl up near the fireplace, and stay there until the sun came out.
That’s when I saw the accident.
Realizing I was first on the scene, I edged my car closer and peered through the rain. A man flung open the driver’s door of one car, jumped out, and opened the back door. He shoved the airbags aside, leaned into the car, and emerged with a crying child in his arms. At the same time, the passenger door opened, and a woman rose slowly to her feet. The driver of the other car stepped out of her car, seemingly fine and dialing for assistance.
I pulled alongside the cars and asked, “Is everyone alright?”
“Yes,” the man said, nodding.
“Thank you, Lord.”
He clutched the child tightly to his chest as he made his way out of traffic and onto the sidewalk. His wife followed.
I knew the police and EMS would arrive soon and give them the professional help they needed, so I pulled my car past them. Honestly, I was relieved they didn’t need my help. The last thing I wanted to do was get out of my warm car, into the rain, and approach a group of people I didn’t know.
But then I took a final look back. The three huddled on the sidewalk as the cold rain fell.
They don’t need medical help, I thought, but they sure could use an umbrella.
I guided my car to the side of the road. Reaching into the back seat, I grabbed the umbrella I’d tossed in earlier that day. I clicked it open, took a deep breath, and walked toward the family.
“I’m Lori, and I’d like to wait here with you until help arrives. I’m glad you’re okay.”
Tears formed in the man’s eyes as he tucked the child’s head under his chin and squeezed him—hard.
“Would it be okay if I prayed with you?” I asked. “Car accidents are scary.”
He nodded, and I rested my hand on their shoulders, closed my eyes, and prayed.
“Father, thank you for preserving this family’s life. Thank you no one was seriously injured. Please cover this family with your peace and meet their every need. In Jesus’ name, I ask, amen.”
For the next fifteen minutes I stood behind them holding my umbrella as a parade of police, fire fighters, and EMS asked questions and collected information. Rain dripped off the umbrella and onto my back, and water from the sidewalk wicked its way up my pants legs. When the family agreed to go to the hospital, I walked with them to the ambulance.
“I’ll be praying for y’all,” I said as I stepped away. As I climbed into my car, cranked up the heat, and pulled away, I said one more prayer.
When I first saw the accident, my thoughts turned to the specialized training I’d received as a healthcare professional. Normally, if someone didn’t need medical attention, I would’ve said a prayer and driven past. I thought about it, because showing mercy is still hard for me. Although I’m doing better, it’s not my default setting.
But I remembered Christ’s compassion toward the blind men, and I looked again. Thankfully, they didn’t need CPR, first aid, or advanced life support.
They just needed someone to hold the umbrella and pray. Someone to be like Jesus.
So the next time you head out, throw your umbrella in the car, stay alert, and be ready. You never know when you might have a chance to share compassion.
“Carry each other’s burdens,” Paul said in Galatians 6:2, “and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.”
—Written by Lori Hatcher. Used by permission of the author. Click here to connect with Lori.
35 Responses
Humbling
Hi Lori,
Thank you for sharing your testimony.
I was so blessed reading and I believed in the power of prayers .
May God bless you
Thank you, Mila. It was hard to confess my failings, but I wanted to encourage others that we’re all a work in progress. God can use us even before we "arrive" :). Blessings to you!
Bless you, Our Lord put you in that situation to show you that you are needed and caring person!!
It was a great encouragement, Pearl, to get something "right" for a change! Blessings to you, friend.
This was such a blessing to read, I can relate to the struggle of showing mercy and compassion at times. I’m so glad I came across this
Hooray, another sister that God’s at work in and through. Thanks, Jenn, for your kind words 🙂
Very touching story of compassion.
Blessings to you, Cherryl.
I so identified with this message. It’s that thing of stepping out of your comfort zone having to lean on sufficiency of Christ’s spirit to do through you what you lack and then sit back in amazement His awesomeness and of what He did with your willingness.
Exactly! You captured it perfectly, Sheila. And the smile we feel inside when we know God used us INSPITE of ourselves . . . priceless!
Thank you for that reminder Laurie. Compassion can be shown in the smallest ways.
I know I often think it needs to be big and dramatic, but small and sweet speaks God’s love, too. Blessings to you, friend!
Absolutely beautiful
Thank you, Cathy. Thank you for reading and commenting.
This is a very moving story. God is so gracious at showing us just where He wants to use us and how. Sometimes we in life get to where things become a routine and we forget to let God into even the smallest area of our lives. Thank you for listening to the spirit of God that day and letting Him use you. It isn’t always the big things in life that matters, it is the smallest most humbling things that edify and lift up others and brings glory to our Lord and Savior.
Yes He is, Helen. The hard part is being aware enough to notice before the opportunity passes us by. Lord, open our eyes and help us see!
Loved this article. What a nice way to be ready to show compassion.
Thank you, Christine. Blessings to you, friend.
Thank You Jesus for teaching us how to have a heart like Yours and ( I pray for the strength) to follow that path. Holy Spirit guide us. In Jesus Name. Amen 🙏
Amen and amen. Lord, open our eyes, and use us in your service.
Love this story. For the past year I have been through a lot of health issue. I’m doing much better now.
I know this was one way God got my attention & to teach me how to be even more compassionate towards others. God also is teaching me how to accept the compassion & help of others. One if my favorite Bible verses is: "I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me." Philippines 4:13 (KJV).
May everyone have a blessed day.
You’re right, Sheila, being the recipient of compassion shows us how precious and amazing it is. God’s blessings to you, friend.
Lori, this was so moving. It brought tears. I too struggle with compassion. You gave me inspiration!
Thank you, Michele
I’m so glad, Michele, that my simple story inspired you. Isn’t that so God?
The story brought tears to my eyes. I do feel like Lori at times and I am a work in progress. Thank you for making me get a little closer to Jesus today.
Susan,
I’m glad I’m not the only one! Thanks for encouraging ME.
What a wonderful story of what it means to be a "Jesus with skin on." This devotional truly touched me. It’s sunny where I am, but I’m still going to toss an umbrella in the back seat.
Hooray! I’m so glad my simple story inspired you to be ready to take action. I can’t wait to hear how God will use you.
Amen!
We ALL need to have a heart and soul with
Compassion to strangers!
That is what Jesus was all about!
Well said, Karen. Yes!
I can so relate to this article, as I am not normally a "touchy type" person, although one of the things I’ve missed most during this pandemic has been my Sunday Church hugs from my Church family. Normally as soon as someone starts shedding tears, I become uncomfortable and start looking for a way to escape the situation, if that isn’t possible, I tend to rest my hand on their arm or shoulder, standing in total confusion uttering things like "I’m so sorry" over & over, I usually will add, "is there anything I can do?" while secretly praying there isn’t. Oh! and let’s NOT FORGET that sometimes my nerves take over and I in-voluntarily start laughing, this use to get me in a lot of trouble when I was growing up, and even as an adult it sometimes happens. I, also, am trying to work on it, and praying for GOD’S HELP to be able to handle these situations better…
Oh my, Dianna, I so get this. I"m glad I’m not the only one. And yes, we can grow to better become the hands and feet (and hugs) of Jesus. We’re in this together!
This is wonderful! So many times I’ve stopped at accidents and covered the occupants of vehicles with an extra blanket or afghan that I’ve kept in my car. What a blessed sharing of this woman’s gifts of mercy and prayer, though she had believed she was somehow limited in doing so. God used her smallest faith to minister to these hurt and frightened souls!
YOU are whom I’m trying to become. I’m adding a blanket to my trunk right now, Marigold. Blessings to you!