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You are here: Home / Uncategorized / A Tale of 4 Friends: A Lesson in Compassion

A Tale of 4 Friends: A Lesson in Compassion

February 20, 2018

I read in the book of Mark today a very familiar story. It’s the one about the paralytic who had some pretty amazing friends. Jesus was speaking to a crowd so large that there wasn’t even room to enter through the front door. No elbow room here. The man could not get in to see Jesus because he was physically unable to move his own body. That was the first challenge. The second problem came in the form of a crowded room. He had friends, though. Friends who knew his deep need, knew that Jesus could help him, and cared so profoundly for him that they had to get him to Jesus.

When the front door didn’t work, they resorted to the roof. They “removed the roof above where He was. And when they had broken through, they lowered the mat on which the paralytic was lying”. These friends had some unshakeable faith and some serious tenacity. They literally would not take “no” for an answer when it came to getting their friend to Jesus.

Big Faith

As I read this encounter this morning, I was struck by the following verse: “Seeing their faith, Jesus told the paralytic, ‘Your sins are forgiven.'”  This is followed by words directed at the Pharisees in response to their questioning whether or not Jesus had any right to forgive sins. Leave it to the Pharisees to have an argument while a man comes through the roof! Jesus then heals the man.

Let’s go back to the faith part. The faith of the friends.I think these four friends are pretty spectacular. They gave up their day and physically worked hard to get their friend to Jesus. Even though seeing Jesus was impossible, they found a way. I get the impression that these friends knew the paralytic very well. Perhaps they had watched him live with this disability and had felt his pain with him.

Bring Them To Jesus

I want to be like them. I want to be the type of friend who has lived with the needs of others and loves them so deeply that, no matter the obstacles, I’m bringing them to Jesus, especially, when they have no strength to do so on their own. When my friends are strapped for faith, I want to carry the load. I want to know them so well, that I actually know when they are in need.

Are They Really “My People”?

Can I be this for the people I so enthusiastically call “my people”? Am I willing to inconvenience myself for the benefit of a friend or a neighbor? Am I willing to be inconvenienced for the sake of my friends’ spiritual, physical, or emotional well-being? I may not tear a physical roof off a building or lower them down on a mat but can my friends count on my prayers of faith to hold them up when they are too weak to pray for themselves? Can they count on that text message of encouragement or the card in the mail that lifts their spirits? Can they rely on that meal or offer to babysit when they are too overwhelmed to know which way is up? Do my actions reflect those of the 4 friends? Or do I spend my time, like the pharisees, focused on the law instead of on active compassion.

I want to be like the four friends. I really do.

Jesus,

Help me to live like the 4 friends lived. I want to live with sacrificial love as the banner of my heart. Help me to see beyond the every day inconvenience to the eternal impact of a simple text message or unexpected meal or card in the mail. May I find myself on my knees more than using my fingers to tap, tap the “I’ll pray for you” comments on Facebook.  May I truly know my neighbors and my friends to the point of knowing their needs and desires. Help me to walk with them through their most paralyzing days and rejoice with them in the miraculous days that follow. And when my faith waivers, may I be so richly blessed to benefit from the love, faith and strength of those carrying my mat and ripping off roofs to get me to Jesus. And like the man in the story, whether it’s my miracle or the miracle of a friend, may You be glorified.

Patty


This post originated on my other website, Life Is Beautiful, but is the intellectual property of pattyparker.me

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  1. 4 Things I Learned About Friendship from a Group of Strangers ⋆ PattyParker.me says:
    July 4, 2018 at 6:01 pm

    […] I prayed here it means: living with sacrificial love as the banner of my heart and seeing beyond the every day […]

    Reply

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Kindness is not weakness. Kindness is strength in Kindness is not weakness. Kindness is strength in action. 
Today we’ll walk for a friend we’ve never met but today he would have been 26. 
His life was snuffed out not because of anything he did. Rather, because his skin color was *wrong*. So today we walk because our skin color is *right*. And we just can’t take these lies any more. 
Because kindness can be shown  with words but it flexes its strength when it moves. When it stands up for others who are created equal but not treated equal. 
Today we walk with our brothers and sisters of color—beautiful color—who need to be heard. Need to be seen. 
Who need to walk/run/jog/laugh/smile/enter a room without fear that their life may be in danger. 
My children will learn that kindness is strength in action. And it starts today— with a walk.  #ahmaudarbery 
#runforahmaud #runforahmaudarbery
“Dom. Charlee. Come meet your baby brother, Devi “Dom. Charlee. Come meet your baby brother, Devin.” My 4 year old son and 18 month old daughter peered at the little red ball yawning and stretching in my arms. “Can I hold him mommy?” Dom held out his arms to hold his new little brother. 
Throughout the day, he came over to stare at his sleeping sibling; offering  hugs before rushing off to play. 
Charlee was equally smitten. With her own baby in her arms, she followed me wherever I went. When I changed the baby’s diaper, she changed her baby doll’s diaper. When I rocked Devin, she rocked her own bundle of joy. 
A family of five felt wonderful. Until—“Mommy, I don’t feel well.” Marshall took Dom to the Doctor. I put my fretting to good use while rocking the baby with Charlee by my side. “It’s pneumonia,” read the text. 
A few days later, Charlee began tugging at her ears. “Looks like an ear infection,” said the dr. “I’ll prescribe an antibiotic.” Worried about the baby, we began Operation Sibling Quarantine. Too late. 
Devin tested positive for RSV at two weeks old. 
Little did I know this was just a taste of what was ahead for our family. Dom would get sick. Two days later, Charlee would come down with a fever. Two days later, I wouldn’t feel so hot. The cycle continued—each family member generously taking his turn with a bout of sickness. “What are you doing?” Marshall asked. 
I stood facing our wall calendar. “I’m tracking who gets sick. Maybe it’s not as bad as it feels.” A month in, I stopped. It was as bad as it felt. 
The struggles extended into nap schedules, car seat arrangements, laundry, bathing, and clothing our family. “It’s our third baby! Shouldn’t we know what we are doing by now?!” At a MOPS meeting, seated across from a mom of three grown boys, I got my answer.
“It takes at least a year to find a new normal after having a baby. Every time.” She continued, “Every time a child is added into the picture, the entire family will need to get a handle on the changes that come with the new addition.” Oh.
**************
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