THREE ANGELS BROADCASTING NETWORK DEVOTIONAL
Craving Compassion.
By Shelley Quinn October 31st
“The Lord is near to those who have a broken heart, and saves such as have a contrite spirit.” Psalm 34 verse 18
Mama didn’t tolerate whining. As a child, if I woke up cranky, Mama would say, “You got up on the wrong side of the bed.” She made me return to bed, and spring up from the other side. It was not a futile exercise—I always emerged from my room in an upbeat mood. Cheerfulness was seeded in my heart, and becoming a Christian harvested that attitude—when the heart is filled with the joy of the Lord it makes a cheerful face.
After 33 years of marriage, I heard my husband tell a friend, “One thing I really like about being married to Shelley is she goes to bed happy every night, and wakes up happy every morning.” The pressure was on—I had a reputation to protect.
In December of last year, I spent fourteen out of nineteen days in the hospital. Following spinal surgery, I was discharged only to be readmitted five days later for complications. I endured my suffering with a sunny disposition, even though in the secret place of my heart I was screaming.
Six weeks had passed since surgery, and I still struggled to walk. Now, top that with a shoulder injury sustained during surgery that left my dominant arm useless. I couldn’t get in and out of bed or even open a bottle of water by myself. I felt so helpless.
When one of my home therapists arrived for my daily session, my husband dashed out the door for a pharmacy run. Oh, good. I don’t have to guard my reputation.
“I have to warn you, Becky,” I said with a smile and a note of forced cheerfulness, “Today has been rough emotionally. I know self-pity is straight from the pits of hell, but I think I’m feeling a little sorry for myself today.”
“No, you’re not,” she spoke gently. “You’re grieving the loss of your independence, the loss of your dignity, and—temporarily—the loss of your identity.”
Her words struck like a thunderbolt of truth. It was grief that engulfed me, and it was okay to admit it. I hadn’t understood why sympathy from my friends felt so good, so comforting. I’m not one who likes to be pitied, but as I tried to balance pain and loss while going forward with every day activities, I craved compassionate understanding.
Grieving differs from self-pity. If internal burdens are crushing your spirit, please know the Lord understands your struggles and is especially near to you right now. Come to Him with a humble heart. He will send the Holy Spirit as your compassionate Comforter. As a father has compassion on his children, so the Lord will have compassion on you and save you.
Craving Compassion.
By Shelley Quinn October 31st
“The Lord is near to those who have a broken heart, and saves such as have a contrite spirit.” Psalm 34 verse 18
Mama didn’t tolerate whining. As a child, if I woke up cranky, Mama would say, “You got up on the wrong side of the bed.” She made me return to bed, and spring up from the other side. It was not a futile exercise—I always emerged from my room in an upbeat mood. Cheerfulness was seeded in my heart, and becoming a Christian harvested that attitude—when the heart is filled with the joy of the Lord it makes a cheerful face.
After 33 years of marriage, I heard my husband tell a friend, “One thing I really like about being married to Shelley is she goes to bed happy every night, and wakes up happy every morning.” The pressure was on—I had a reputation to protect.
In December of last year, I spent fourteen out of nineteen days in the hospital. Following spinal surgery, I was discharged only to be readmitted five days later for complications. I endured my suffering with a sunny disposition, even though in the secret place of my heart I was screaming.
Six weeks had passed since surgery, and I still struggled to walk. Now, top that with a shoulder injury sustained during surgery that left my dominant arm useless. I couldn’t get in and out of bed or even open a bottle of water by myself. I felt so helpless.
When one of my home therapists arrived for my daily session, my husband dashed out the door for a pharmacy run. Oh, good. I don’t have to guard my reputation.
“I have to warn you, Becky,” I said with a smile and a note of forced cheerfulness, “Today has been rough emotionally. I know self-pity is straight from the pits of hell, but I think I’m feeling a little sorry for myself today.”
“No, you’re not,” she spoke gently. “You’re grieving the loss of your independence, the loss of your dignity, and—temporarily—the loss of your identity.”
Her words struck like a thunderbolt of truth. It was grief that engulfed me, and it was okay to admit it. I hadn’t understood why sympathy from my friends felt so good, so comforting. I’m not one who likes to be pitied, but as I tried to balance pain and loss while going forward with every day activities, I craved compassionate understanding.
Grieving differs from self-pity. If internal burdens are crushing your spirit, please know the Lord understands your struggles and is especially near to you right now. Come to Him with a humble heart. He will send the Holy Spirit as your compassionate Comforter. As a father has compassion on his children, so the Lord will have compassion on you and save you.
THREE ANGELS BROADCASTING NETWORK DEVOTIONAL
Craving Compassion.
By Shelley Quinn October 31st
“The Lord is near to those who have a broken heart, and saves such as have a contrite spirit.” Psalm 34 verse 18
Mama didn’t tolerate whining. As a child, if I woke up cranky, Mama would say, “You got up on the wrong side of the bed.” She made me return to bed, and spring up from the other side. It was not a futile exercise—I always emerged from my room in an upbeat mood. Cheerfulness was seeded in my heart, and becoming a Christian harvested that attitude—when the heart is filled with the joy of the Lord it makes a cheerful face.
After 33 years of marriage, I heard my husband tell a friend, “One thing I really like about being married to Shelley is she goes to bed happy every night, and wakes up happy every morning.” The pressure was on—I had a reputation to protect.
In December of last year, I spent fourteen out of nineteen days in the hospital. Following spinal surgery, I was discharged only to be readmitted five days later for complications. I endured my suffering with a sunny disposition, even though in the secret place of my heart I was screaming.
Six weeks had passed since surgery, and I still struggled to walk. Now, top that with a shoulder injury sustained during surgery that left my dominant arm useless. I couldn’t get in and out of bed or even open a bottle of water by myself. I felt so helpless.
When one of my home therapists arrived for my daily session, my husband dashed out the door for a pharmacy run. Oh, good. I don’t have to guard my reputation.
“I have to warn you, Becky,” I said with a smile and a note of forced cheerfulness, “Today has been rough emotionally. I know self-pity is straight from the pits of hell, but I think I’m feeling a little sorry for myself today.”
“No, you’re not,” she spoke gently. “You’re grieving the loss of your independence, the loss of your dignity, and—temporarily—the loss of your identity.”
Her words struck like a thunderbolt of truth. It was grief that engulfed me, and it was okay to admit it. I hadn’t understood why sympathy from my friends felt so good, so comforting. I’m not one who likes to be pitied, but as I tried to balance pain and loss while going forward with every day activities, I craved compassionate understanding.
Grieving differs from self-pity. If internal burdens are crushing your spirit, please know the Lord understands your struggles and is especially near to you right now. Come to Him with a humble heart. He will send the Holy Spirit as your compassionate Comforter. As a father has compassion on his children, so the Lord will have compassion on you and save you.
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