Compassion and Weed
I walked right into a conversation today. One elderly woman, beautiful and elegant. One man, high on weed, shooting squirrels in his backyard. The two people were talking. He fixes her car, she helps take care of his home. Both of them involved in each others lives. Complicated, messy, frustrating and ongoing.
She helps take care of his home when he is away. He fixes her car for free. She checks up on him and scolds him for smoking and he apologizes and backs away from her so she can't breathe it in. She doesn't need to be involved. But she is. . . and it's messy.
She has compassion. There is no easy solution or expectation of change. It is just what she does.
It was beautiful, really.
I was intrigued at the natural way it was, nothing showy, nothing extravagant, just evidence of how she relates with him. I bumped into them on my afternoon dog-walk and have been thinking about it since then.
"Jesus called his disciples to him and said, “I have compassion for these people; they have already been with me three days and have nothing to eat. I do not want to send them away hungry, or they may collapse on the way.” (Matthew 15:31-33)
Jesus . . . fed the hungry. My neighbor helps her neighbor.
How is my compassion? Does it move me to action? Can I naturally respond without showing off? And what would it mean if I didn't know the ending? If it was ongoing?
Something to think about . . .