“Man, I sliced my hand with the box cutter,” I complained as I checked in freight at the auto parts store.
“So, wrap a paper towel around it and keep going,” my coworker responded.
“Not paying attention, huh?” another coworker shouted.
“You’re a real cutup,” still another coworker chimed in.
“You guys are full of compassion!” I complained while nursing my wound. “I could be bleeding to death, what would you do then?”
“We would get some floor dry.” Then the entire cacophony of coworkers laughed at their self-proclaimed wit.
God allows hardship to come into my life, Parkinson’s disease, for example. Regardless of what it is, He has a purpose for it. He grieves when I grieve. He hurts when I hurt. He does not like to bring hardship to my world, but does so to accomplish something. He may be punishing me for a sin or He may be molding and shaping me into a more useful vessel for Him. While doing this He has compassion for me. He is not out to crush me under His feet. He cares and comforts me.
“But though he cause grief, yet will he have compassion according to the multitude of his mercies.” Lamentations 3:32.
© copyright Kevin T Boekhoff