His Compassions Fail Not

They sit there on the clinic porch.  Mamas with their babies, old men with their walking sticks, and children with their cuts and bruises.  Sometimes it seems endless.  The work load becomes heavy, and the days become long.

Somehow now, my dreams have become reality.  The thing about dreams though, is that they can be perfect. They can be however you want them to be.

In my dreams, I didn't imagine myself struggling.  I imagined things perfectly.  I would be the best helper I could be.  I would love these people with all of my might.  I would have the best attitude all the time.  I would do this, and I would do that.  Do you get the picture?

What I've learned is, I can't do any of those things.  Only He can.

Sometimes I find that my compassion is lacking.  Sometimes I find that it becomes a mundane thing to stare at these faces day in and day out.  Faces that have come seeking help.  Yes, sometimes it's a simple scrape on the knee.  Sometimes it's more serious than that.  Every time it's deeper than that.  There is a need here so much greater than the physical.  They have a need to hear about the Man who came to set them free, the Man who loves them with an unending love, the Man who's compassions will never fail them.

My capacity to love them on my own is weak.  My compassion alone will fail them.  My prayer is that it won't be by my strength, or my love, or my compassion, but His while I serve and live here.  That I would love the way He does, unending, always giving, unselfish, and never prideful.

"because his compassions fail not.  They are new every morning."  Lamentations 3:22b - 23a