12 December 2016

Acts 5:12 – 16

Now many signs and wonders were done among the people through the apostles. And they were all together in Solomon’s Portico. None of the rest dared to join them, but the people held them in high esteem. Yet more than ever believers were added to the Lord, great numbers of both men and women, so that they even carried out the sick into the streets, and laid them on cots and mats, in order that Peter’s shadow might fall on some of them as he came by. A great number of people would also gather from the towns around Jerusalem, bringing the sick and those tormented by unclean spirits, and they were all cured.

Several years ago, my husband was diagnosed with throat cancer right before Thanksgiving. The silver lining were the first instructions: “eat as much as you can in the next month and gain as much weight as you can because you are going to need it.” I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man enjoy gravy more than that Thanksgiving.
In the next few months, I learned that nursing and caring for the sick is NOT one of my gifts. As my husband retorted one time when I wasn’t quite as accommodating or gracious towards his situation as he wished…“Amy, you have no compassion.”
That comment made me pause. I thought I did have compassion. In fact, I thought of myself as a very compassionate person. I had a list of ways in which I thought of myself as compassionate. I volunteered at the church, the schools, Community Hot Meals Program, mentoring, PTA, and advocacy for public schools. In fact, Alan had once joked I had an invisible V on my forehead that people who were looking for volunteers could only see. I rarely said NO when asked to help.
But was I compassionate to the sick? My sick husband in particular? Perhaps not. I was playing nurse and driving him every week to radiation and chemotherapy, but I was also trying to juggle the other commitments that didn’t stop when he became incapacitated for months. Someone still had to handle the family-run business, school age children, household duties, bills, and commitments.

Alan’s cancer was cured. He has been cancer-free for over five years now. But I still tumble that comment around in my head. And in everyday situations, I find myself thinking “are you being compassionate?”

Is compassion compartmentalized? Can you be compassionate in some areas but not others? How would I have been if I had wandered through the streets around Solomon’s Portico? Would I have been compassionate? Would I have been a believer in the healing? Would I have been praying for Peter’s shadow?

What does it take to heal not only the body but the soul?