Not too long ago, I was in my local Christian bookstore on a quest to pick up some CDs I’ve had on my “must-buy” list for awhile. As I was browsing the music section, I noticed a little girl rummaging through the children’s books. I assumed she was bored while her dad was shopping, so she was looking for something to read while she waited. But then I noticed her eyes light up as she ran toward to her dad with a book she’d grabbed, shouting, “This one! This one! She’ll love this one!"

“Oh,” I thought, “she must be picking out something for a friend.”

Her dad, who stood two feet away in the greeting card isle looking like he was in a rush, shot his daughter a look as he flipped through the book, “really?” he said to her sarcastically, “this is kinda cheesy… we‘ll get her something else.”

“Wow” I thought to myself, “that was harsh…”

The girl continued to rummage through the books, reading as she went along, while I continued browsing the music section (A.K.A., listening in on their conversation). I’m not a busybody, really I'm not. Half of the time when I’m CD shopping I enter into my own little world while the rest of reality is phased out for about 20 minutes. I have family who will attest to this, but for some reason, this father/daughter duo had caught my attention.

After a few minutes, I overheard the father speaking once again--only this time, he was asking one of the sales associates a question about the cards he was looking at. Apparently he was buying a card for one of the little girl’s friends and her dad, who had been in a horrible accident. I’d assumed it was a car wreck. They were both in the hospital, alive, but in bad shape. The girl was looking to get her friend a gift (which explained the book) and the dad was looking for a card along the lines of “get well soon” and “my condolences”… whatever that means.

The father had been in the store longer than he'd wanted, and was getting disgruntled at not being able to find what he wanted. The sales associate finally pointed him to a set of blank cards in which he’d be able to write in his own message.

The man looked at the sales lady holding up the set of blank cards and exclaimed loudly and incredulously, “I’d have to write in it MYSELF!?”

Yeah...

The man ended up buying the cards, frustrated that he’d need to write his own message inside, and he and his daughter left without a word more.

Now, I don’t know this man. I don’t know his daughter. I don’t know the two who were in the accident and I don’t know their connection to each other. I’m not out to judge any of these people, nor am I out to make myself sound any better. I’m just here to state the facts and share what I learned from them in the process.

Picture this: You in a hospital bed. You’ve just been in a horrific accident and you’ve got tubes, wires, and drips running all throughout your arms and body. The doctors are optimistic you're going to live, but that still doesn’t make the pain hurt any less. If this were me, I would only pray that I'd have family and friends by my side who wanted to be with me as much as they could. If they went a step further and bought me cards, flowers, and candy, that would be nice, but if the people who gave them to me didn’t want to give them to me, let alone act like my ordeal is a hassle, what’s the point of that?

Empty giving is often the result of empty compassion.

You could give a homeless guy on the street five bucks, but if all you do is complain about what you could have spent that $5 on afterward, then why did you even bother? The homeless guy will get his belly fed, sure, but that’s ALL he got. You offered him no kindness. It was an empty sacrifice, much like this guy and the card he was buying for his daughter’s friend. That girl in the hospital may never know how stressed out the man got over finding the card. But I know. And through that, God showed me something valuable about true compassion.

I about all Jesus endured for us on the cross. We’ve seen pictures, read stories and watched movies, but as true-to-life as all those things may be, we will never know the full extent of how much Jesus suffered the day He died--physically, mentally, and spiritually. I find it amazing the compassion He had for us as He died. And even now, as He sits in Heaven, I'm amazed at the patience He has for us on Earth.

As He hung on the cross, people WANTED Him dead. He could have escaped at any moment, but He didn’t. Why? True compassion. Today, people act as if He never existed. He could very easily come down and prove those people wrong, but He won’t. Why? True compassion.

Jesus doesn’t make His gift to us--His life--a hassle. He has never said we weren’t worth the time nor did He make it seem like dying for us was “going too far out of His way.” He always has, and always will give to us out of true compassion because He loves us. It’s never a fight. It’s never something He complains about later. He just gives, and that’s it.

All of us are like that man and the "get well" card far too often in life. We’ll make it look like we care, but behind the scenes, we know how much we don’t. I’m reminded of 1 Corinthians 13, when Paul writes to the church that through Christ, we can do anything; but without love, it’s nothing. I could offer to mow your lawn for free, but if all I did was complain the whole time, was it worth it? You saved $10 dollars, but in return, you got an hour of grumbling. My behavior would look like love, but it would profit you nothing.

Romans 12:9 says: “Let your love be without hypocrisy.” The NLT version says: “Don’t just pretend to love others. Really love them.”

One of my favorite lines in Francesca Battistelli’s latest single, “Motion Of Mercy,” is: “Now I’m filled by a love that has called me to action, I was empty before, now I’m drawn to compassion and to give myself away... living for the lost, loving till it hurts, no matter what the cost like You loved me first.”

When we remember all that Jesus has sacrificed for us, offering others true compassion and the “motion of mercy” comes easily. We need to remember what it felt like when we first received God’s compassion and start giving it away with vigor. You see, God doesn’t need people who know how to play the part; He needs people who actually will go out of their way to let the people around them know they are loved--even if it’s an inconvenience to you--just like Jesus did.

You and I are called to give our lives away. And it’s a call to action I hope we all choose to accept.