The Madness of Hope

Is Three Miles too Far to Carry Compassion

Today I am featuring Shannon over at Jesus and my Orange Juice.
Shannon blogs about how she finds joy and contentment in her everyday
life as a wife and mother. Enjoy her post below and take a
minute to drop by her blog and follower.,
She is also on Facebook and Twitter !
Today, I am also being featured at her blog! Thanks, Shannon.

My Photo

This week my child found two quarters and one nickel on the playground. Fifty-five cents is like winning the lottery to a four year old. My child could score at least ten pieces of gas station bubble gum with those findings. I inquired what my child thought was the best use of the newfound treasure. “I should give it to the people living at our church. They don’t even have a place to live,” was the immediate response. The families sheltered at Hope lost their homes in the recent Memphis flood. Could fifty-five cents possibly make a difference? The story of Simon instantly sprang to my mind. When Jesus stumbled time and again under the weight of his cross, the Roman guards called on Simon of Cyrene to carry it. He carried it under compulsion. No one would dare defy the Roman guard. He was chosen because he was available. We don’t know for certain if Simon was already a disciple but he became one that day. The rest of Jesus’ followers had walked away. Simon remained. I was running today and thinking about my child and Simon. Sacrifices were made, both large but in different ways. As I ran something glinted in the sun. When I slowed my pace, I realized it was a quarter so I picked it up. This isn’t unusual. I often collect money when I am running. Typically, I keep it. Today God whispered in my ear to pick up that quarter and take it to the shelter. I wanted to argue. After all, it was only a measly quarter but my God turns measly into miraculous. As my palms started to sweat around that quarter, I realized I still had three miles to run. Would I really be willing to carry a quarter for three miles? Another few steps and I saw a penny. I felt God say in my heart, “If you trust Me with a quarter, will You trust me with a penny?” I picked it up too. Jesus told us that if we wanted to follow after Him, we had to take up our cross. What I was carrying could not reasonably be considered a cross. It was more like a twig. I carried it because I was available. Three miles wasn’t too far to run. Fifty-five cents wasn’t too much to give. A cross wasn’t too heavy to carry. A life wasn’t too much to sacrifice. Jesus, those living in our church right now are some of the overlooked of society. You died because they were worth it. We shelter them because they’re worth it. My daughter gave all she had because they’re worth it. I carried twenty-six cents because they’re worth it. Three miles is not too far to carry compassion.