Compassion: n. sorrow, pity, sympathy, empathy, feeling, mercy, commiseration, kindness, kindliness, tenderness, heart, tenderheartedness, clemency, solicitousness, solicitude, caring, consideration, concern, fellow feeling.
----Ant. mercilessness, indifference.
---Syn. Study. SEE SYMPATHY.
----Ant. mercilessness, indifference.
---Syn. Study. SEE SYMPATHY.
i PROBABLY do not have to explain why this word is full of so much meaning. Those of us who have experienced trial, abuse, sorrow, know all to well what compassion is.
True compassion.
The kind of compassion that doesn't say, "i told you so", or "i know how you feel, listen to me, what i have been through".
The kind of compassion that says nothing.
And in that silence you hear "i love you",
"i am sorry for your pain",
"i wish i could do something,
but i know that nothing will
lessen your pain right now
so i will just hug you."
The kind of compassion that says nothing.
And in that silence you hear "i love you",
"i am sorry for your pain",
"i wish i could do something,
but i know that nothing will
lessen your pain right now
so i will just hug you."
recently i found out that i have to have a pretty major surgery to overcome this trial i have had for so long in my life. many many in my life who have had this have offered me solace. solace in words of comfort, in looks of love, in prayers. these offerings have been beautiful and great at this time while i make some pretty heavy decisions and try to find peace in them.
i can't seem to get one experience out of my mind, and hope my heart never forgets the lesson i learned.
we all experience things. some things are familiar to others on our journey, because they have been there. how tempting is it to want to comfort another by telling them how we have felt, what we experienced, and how they can overcome it.
but for this moment hear what i learned. sometimes it is really hard to listen to anothers experience in depth, when our pain at the time is so deep.
sometimes it is really hard to focus on anothers past pain when our present is so great.
my sister, bless her, experienced what i am going through.
she had a terrible experience.
she went into her surgery with circumstances beyond the belief of most humankind.
it was terrible for her.
i was by her side, and watched her carry that burden, that sorrow.
i tried to offer comfort, compassion, but really...i didn't know at all what she was going through.
i have been feeling really sorry for myself lately.
feeling like i don't want this trial [do we ever really want our trials...?] anyhow, i really have been very quiet in my sorrow, trying to figure out where my strength to deal with this will come.
i saw my sister last week. she HUGGED me. that was it. SHE HUGGED ME. and in that quiet hug all that needed to be said was said. I softly cried in her arms, she held me tighter. she said NOTHING....no words to make it better....[because really, they can't] ...no reminiscing of her own pain...[because lets be honest, does that really help the person to know you suffered...the same, or more.....]
in her quiet compassion, my quiet sorrow was soothed. somehow i was able, because she was quiet, to hear the voice of the Lord say to me. all will be well. trust me....and feel of my love and comfort...
i heard more in the silence than in the hours of advice and conversation i have had otherwise.
thank you, my dear sister, for understanding what brings true comfort. sometimes it is simply in a hug, a prayer, a feeling.
i wrote my sister a letter which i will include here, because i never want to forget what she did for me in that simple, yet profound, moment.
thank you.
Sister,
I really should have emailed you immediately after seeing you this week. Or called, or written...but with the chaotic nature of raising kids this will have to do. Also, I wanted the emphasize how much it meant to me. I could all bold or capitalize the words...but wont be thus annoying. I love you and mean this from the bottom of my heart and soul.
I LOVE YOU. I thank you dearly for your compassion and love to me. When you hugged me it was the first morsel of comfort that I received since hearing about my circumstance with the tumors and cysts.
I have been lost in an ocean of tears and pain. Pain both physical and emotional. And when you hugged me I felt renewed. I felt loved by someone who had been where I am right now. A true and sincere compassion. One that many never experience, or act upon. Truly Christlike, and you exemplified the love that He would have us give one another.
You didn't make it about you, you didn't tell me your pain, you just soothed mine. I so appreciate that. You offered me a safety in your arms that allowed me to feel comfort, peace, hope and healing.
Because of that. Because you said no words, you opened an opportunity for me to hear the word of the Lord. You really gave me the chance to hear His comforting words that all would be well, with me, and with you.
It was beautiful. In that moment. That simple hug that felt a lifetime, I thought of something. I have been so sorrowful for what I am about to face. I have had such tremendous pain and agony physically and emotionally, at the thought of this impending surgery, that I had forgotten I wasn't alone.
I had forgotten that others suffer similar, and sometimes far greater, this trial. I felt such empathy and compassion from you and I realized something. The grieving I was doing for myself was nothing like the loss you suffered.
I am so sorry for what you have experienced, for your pain and suffering. Sweetie, I know I was there to help with the babies....but I missed something. You lost the opportunity to have more, to grow your family until you felt complete. I feel so terribly bad for your loss. I feel so selfish that I have been aching all this time for mine, without realizing that you had been there, you knew, you KNOW. And if ever I could do anything to repair the pain you have I want you to know that I would. I wish I had carried a child for you. I wish I had offered something, anything....
I can only hope that you have been hugged, the very way you hugged me. I can pray that you have peace and comfort, like what I felt from you. I love you, my sister. And I do pray that all is well with you. And I do hope for healing, and happiness, all the days of your life.
I know that you face many challenges right now. With family and raising little ones, and physical pains. I love you. I really want you to know that I am here, anytime. Please talk to me and let me be a comfort and strength to you. Let me have the chance to hold you, so that you can hear the things you need to hear.
I love you Sister,
Thank you.
I really should have emailed you immediately after seeing you this week. Or called, or written...but with the chaotic nature of raising kids this will have to do. Also, I wanted the emphasize how much it meant to me. I could all bold or capitalize the words...but wont be thus annoying. I love you and mean this from the bottom of my heart and soul.
I LOVE YOU. I thank you dearly for your compassion and love to me. When you hugged me it was the first morsel of comfort that I received since hearing about my circumstance with the tumors and cysts.
I have been lost in an ocean of tears and pain. Pain both physical and emotional. And when you hugged me I felt renewed. I felt loved by someone who had been where I am right now. A true and sincere compassion. One that many never experience, or act upon. Truly Christlike, and you exemplified the love that He would have us give one another.
You didn't make it about you, you didn't tell me your pain, you just soothed mine. I so appreciate that. You offered me a safety in your arms that allowed me to feel comfort, peace, hope and healing.
Because of that. Because you said no words, you opened an opportunity for me to hear the word of the Lord. You really gave me the chance to hear His comforting words that all would be well, with me, and with you.
It was beautiful. In that moment. That simple hug that felt a lifetime, I thought of something. I have been so sorrowful for what I am about to face. I have had such tremendous pain and agony physically and emotionally, at the thought of this impending surgery, that I had forgotten I wasn't alone.
I had forgotten that others suffer similar, and sometimes far greater, this trial. I felt such empathy and compassion from you and I realized something. The grieving I was doing for myself was nothing like the loss you suffered.
I am so sorry for what you have experienced, for your pain and suffering. Sweetie, I know I was there to help with the babies....but I missed something. You lost the opportunity to have more, to grow your family until you felt complete. I feel so terribly bad for your loss. I feel so selfish that I have been aching all this time for mine, without realizing that you had been there, you knew, you KNOW. And if ever I could do anything to repair the pain you have I want you to know that I would. I wish I had carried a child for you. I wish I had offered something, anything....
I can only hope that you have been hugged, the very way you hugged me. I can pray that you have peace and comfort, like what I felt from you. I love you, my sister. And I do pray that all is well with you. And I do hope for healing, and happiness, all the days of your life.
I know that you face many challenges right now. With family and raising little ones, and physical pains. I love you. I really want you to know that I am here, anytime. Please talk to me and let me be a comfort and strength to you. Let me have the chance to hold you, so that you can hear the things you need to hear.
I love you Sister,
Thank you.
Words of comfort in a favorite hymn:
Savior, may I learn to love thee,
Walk the path that thou hast shown,
Pause to help and lift another,
Finding strength beyond my own.
Savior, may I learn to love thee-
Lord, I would follow thee.
Who am I to judge another
When I walk imperfectly?
In the quiet heart is hidden
Sorrow that the eye can't see.
Who am I to judge another?
Lord, I would follow thee.
I would be my brother's keeper;
I would learn the healer's art.
To the wounded and the weary
I would show a gentle heart.
I would be my brother's keeper-
Lord, I would follow thee.
Savior, may I love my brother
As I know thou lovest me,
Find in thee my strength, my beacon,
For thy servant I would be.
Savior, may I love my brother-
Walk the path that thou hast shown,
Pause to help and lift another,
Finding strength beyond my own.
Savior, may I learn to love thee-
Lord, I would follow thee.
Who am I to judge another
When I walk imperfectly?
In the quiet heart is hidden
Sorrow that the eye can't see.
Who am I to judge another?
Lord, I would follow thee.
I would be my brother's keeper;
I would learn the healer's art.
To the wounded and the weary
I would show a gentle heart.
I would be my brother's keeper-
Lord, I would follow thee.
Savior, may I love my brother
As I know thou lovest me,
Find in thee my strength, my beacon,
For thy servant I would be.
Savior, may I love my brother-
Lord, I would follow thee.
lyrics by Susan Evans McCloud