Compassion Defined

Compassion is defined as a feeling of deep sympathy and sorrow for someone stricken by misfortune, accompanied by a strong desire to alleviate the suffering. What struck me in the definition is that compassion is not just feeling sorry, but accompanied by a strong desire to do something.

Our pastor recently talked about compassion being something you feel in your gut.  When we feel compassion we are putting ourselves into that person's place. It will show itself through merciful acts of kindness and care without judgment. Without compassion there is no mission.

Recently a friend sent me a link that tells the story of Father Gregory Boyle, a Jesuit priest, who founded Homeboy Industries in an effort to address the needs of gang-involved youth.  Father Greg and the community have developed positive alternatives, including establishing an elementary school, a day care program and employment. Every month, hundreds of former gang members walk through the doors of Homeboy Industries. They might be fresh out of jail or juvenile detention and their needs are very real.

One of the stories Father Greg tells in the interview is of a young lady who had come for help, at one point telling him that she wished he was God. He chuckled and asked her why. Her response was that she thought that, if he was God, he would let her into heaven. Coming from where she was coming from, the hard knocks she had faced, my heart just went out to her and I thought, is that not how we ought to live? In essence, showing people what God is like.

Oh, that we would realize that what we believe about God will show itself in our day to day life whether we realize it or not. If we believe Him to be a judgmental God we will show judgement, but if we believe Him to be a God of second chances we will do likewise.

"When Jesus saw the crowds, he had compassion on them, 

because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd."

Matthew 9:36

I pray for the kind of compassion that will enlarge my heart, my vision and perimeters to go beyond where I am now.

The Crates

I've not gone down to the shop warehouse to see the crate packing, but I'm told they are filled, sealed and ready to go. This brings me to question how, if you were leaving the country for an indefinite time, would you fit your family's life's belongings and needs into two crates. First, it is an exercise of faith, as furniture and household items get sold before the requirements for the move come together, and secondly, it is a good exercise in figuring out what is most important to us

Having said that, it also depends on where you are going. Indonesia is a large, diverse country as far as economics go, and there are still millions who live in poverty, far from any place where one could even hope to find things such as fitted bed sheets and shower curtains because they sleep on mats and wash in the river. These realities make for a fine line to balance when it comes to foreigners coming into the country to share in their day to day lives, hoping to make a difference.

The items in the crates, therefore need to be thoughtfully scrutinized from every angle, be they mechanical tools, homemaking needs or toys for the kids. Every stuffy has had its own review on how it was acquired and how important it is and then every one was counted and added to the exact itemized inventory list going with the crates.  One interesting play item that has gone into the box is a trampoline. Crest toothpaste, favorite deodorants, tampons, vitamins, certain medications . . . are all things they will not be able to get where they live. Decisions on special treats such as decaf coffee or items used in cooking, such as bacon bits are thoughtfully looked after. Funny, how we can think the whole world has access to the things we use every day. But this is not so.

We live in one world and they are entering another world.

Mother's Day Weekend

It's been a full and wonderful weekend filled with much to give thanks for. On Saturday we (the Mennonite Girls Can Cook) were hosted by Neufeld Farms for a book signing. These times have become enjoyable times to just have a reason to be together. We served two soups and scones from the cookbooks to those who came in to shop.

Sunday morning started us off with a parcel from Saskatoon and then a French Toast breakfast at Kristal's. Could life get any better? After helping out with Sunday School we rushed home and did a bit of prep for dinner before heading out to an afternoon concert with my Mom and Abe. Somewhere during this time we texted with Julene who is on the island with the other side of the family.

The Landfill Harmonic Orchestra was something I had really looked forward to and was not disappointed in. This group of 16 musicians from Paraguay were sponsored by the Global Family Foundation to promote awareness of the need to create educational opportunities for those in poverty. The quote that came out loud and clear was that "talent is distributed equally but opportunity is not." In the above photo our local Youth Orchestra joined them for a few pieces. There is something wonderful about seeing  musicians coming from such different backgrounds, standing side by side, communicating via the same language . . . a language that needs no interpretation.

After the concert we had a simple dinner at our house. In the above photo we are just finishing off with dessert. My mom is happy to have all of her kids around the table with her on this day and we are happy to have her and Abe with us.

One of my gifts in the parcel included a gratitude journal in which to record daily things I'm thankful for. I think this is a good day to begin.

Mother's Day Tribute

To my Mom,

 who has unselfishly given all she could, every day of her life.

I never heard you say, "I need to get away"

or "my kids are driving me crazy."

I never heard you brag about your accomplishments, such as

that every Saturday you prepared Sunday's dinner 

that you gave a room to a traveler for the night

that you patched and ironed our clothes

that you cared for the poor

that you sewed our dresses

or that you baked bread every week

and made homemade meals

even when you worked  a full time job.

It was just what you did.

I never heard you say you had nothing to wear

or that you  needed to go shopping.

I never heard you tell me what to do with my life

or how to parent my children.

But I heard you sing as you worked 

I heard you laugh with the company you served

I heard you tell stories as we did dishes

I heard your words of encouragement

I heard you pray.

In years gone by I had no idea 

how often our family's needs came before your own,

but today I look at the blessings in my life

and know that you were my first biggest blessing.

I love you. Mom

Windows

As alluded to in my last post, I have a little bit of a  fascination 

for what it may look like behind the windows we pass while going by

 . . . those that look inviting, that is.

If windows are the eyes to the soul of a home

what kind of a window would I be drawn to if I had to knock on someone's door?

I also love them from the inside looking out -

to not only hear the chirps of the birds, but to see 

them find a place to look about and take flight again.

I love the mystery behind the slats . . . 

and the surprise awaiting there.

One window view I never tire of is the one that frames this scene . . .

and unbeknownst to Kristal that I'd taken it, she sent me the following.

Windows . . . letting the outside in during the day

or lit up to welcome you at night . . .

do they brighten your day, or call you home?

Stanley Park Date

I always love the drive down First Ave toward downtown Vancouver. A tree-lined street with a mix of beautiful old redone homes tucked in behind. Do you ever wish you could go inside and just look at the layout of a house? I often do. I love to imagine what is behind those doors and windows.

Heading towards Main, we see Science World and downtown coming up. We take a right and then a left on West Georgia, driving right through the downtown core as we head to Stanley Park.

The eclectic beauty of historical buildings

nestled alongside modern high-rises

and long standing older ones, graced with cherry blossoms,

gives the city that well established feeling of the past blending with new inspiration.

West Georgia takes you right to the entrance of the park, taking up the whole peninsula jutting into English Bay. Much of the park is still densely forested with about half a million trees, some hundreds of years old.

Given that the park is almost completely surrounded by water, 

the seawall is one of the most perfect places to walk or cycle.

This time we kept to the English Bay side, beginning near Second Beach

We continued on to Third Beach

and took the pass through Siwash Rock.

Another kilometer or two along the waterfront took us to Lion's Gate Suspension Bridge which connects the park and the city to North Vancouver. We could have continued all the way around to make this a 22 km walk, but luckily I had not signed up for a walk-a-thon.

I noticed that the cyclists passing us had a hard time not taking photo ops even while on their bikes. There are always those who stop to take a selfie to send home or get so caught up that they ride off their path, stumbling onto the pedestrian path.

We passed Siwash Rock on the return and continued another few kilometers before we got back to the place we had parked.

Our afternoon ended with dinner at Milestones on Robson at our favorite window table. 

Many things have changed since our dating years in Vancouver 

but the memories make for a time in life when the past and the present combined,
make for a most special time in life.