It was the day before the Virginia Mantour, and my sister was going to the dentist for what we thought was a simple filling. Instead, when the dentist started working, he saw that the tooth was cracked and had to be removed. Right then and there, she had the surgery. She was in pain.
Still, we had a Mantour, so the following day, we got up and started the drive to Virginia. What we didn't expect was that while we were on the way there, she would have a reaction to the many shots of Novocain she received the day before. We had to stop several times on the drive to use the restroom. When we finally got to the church, she couldn't get out of the car because she was so sick. By this time, she was also crying.
I told her to relax and that I'd take care of the setup. We both knew this wouldn't be easy with my disability, but she was just too sick to move at this point. So we'd do our best.
Thankfully, we weren't the only ones at the church. One of our speakers for the next day, Bobby Basham, was also there setting up his things for the next day. For those of you who don't know Bobby, he is the director of the Potomac Men’s Ministry—a pretty big deal. Even though he was planning on only being there for a few minutes to drop some things off, he saw our predicament and offered to stay and help with setup.
Now, there is absolutely no reason that a man with Bobby's title and position should have been helping move tables and setting up displays. I've known other leaders who would have thought this was beneath them or would have been annoyed that their busy time was interrupted. But not Bobby. Instead, he jumped in and did everything my sister would generally do until we were all set up.
However, his kindness didn't end there. He didn't just pitch in. Seeing Adessa sitting in the car crying and trying not to throw up, he went out to the car. She rolled down the window, and he prayed with her and assured her everything would be fine. Don't even worry about setup—he'd take her place. Just worry about feeling better.
It's been five years since that crazy day, and neither my sister nor I have forgotten Bobby's humility and compassion. It touched us so much.
He didn't just say, "Wow, that's rough," and continue with his busy schedule.
He took time to show compassion to a very sick woman, prayed with her, and then filled in the gaps.
Merriam-Webster Dictionary defines compassion as "sympathetic consciousness of other's distress together with a desire to alleviate it."
That's what Bobby showed us—especially my sister—that day.
This is a trait that, as God's men, we should all be demonstrating in our lives.
It's a trait Jesus exemplifies for us:
"When he saw the crowds, he had compassion for them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd." (Matthew 9:36, ESV)
And a trait Paul encourages all Christians to develop:
"Put on then, as God's chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience," (Colossians 3:12, ESV)
All around us, there are people in desperate need of our help. Will you ask the Holy Spirit how you can become a compassionate man who demonstrates compassion to others?
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