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A Reflection on Compassion and Healing
This past week, I had the opportunity to experience a profound reminder of the healing and restorative power of compassion, as reflected in the Gospel of Mark 6:30-34, 53-56.
For my Sabbath, Lisa and I left the island and went away. All of you who know me know that I couldn't wait to get into the water and fully immerse myself in its healing and restorative power.
As I floated along feeling the jets at my back, I noticed an overwhelming energy drawing my attention. I put my hands together, cusp the water, and rinsed my face, as my eyes slowly opened and I washed down my arms, I felt the ripple of prayer cross the water catch me in the gut. There, as I gazed up from my reflection, she stood, left arm in the air flowing side to side, reaching for the heavens. A young man, tall and thin, stood attentively behind her outside of the water as Bob Marley played in the background to the rhythm of her prayer. I felt her energy calling, a deep sadness, a grief, a pain. She didn't pray aloud with voice, she prayed with her body, eyes closed, side to side she swayed, arm in the air the other on her heart. The spirit tapped me, spoke to me, "Go to her."
I adhered to the spirit's call, looked at Lisa, "I'll be right back," I said. I waded through the ripples of prayer dancing between us. She was an African American woman, stood about 5ft tall, was heavy in stature, and her eyes were tightly shut. As I approached her, I noticed a single tear trailing down the side of her cheek. Quietly I spoke, "Are you ok?" I said to her. I caught her off guard, she didn't know I was approaching. She was deep in her feelings. "Yeah" she replied. "Are you sure?" I said meekly. "I'm ok" she said. I smiled and nodded, but inside, my heart sank. I could feel her pain, intensely. She wasn't ready to speak, especially not to some strange white girl in a jacuzzi.
As I made my way back to Lisa, my eyes filled with my own tears, heart heavy and filled with compassion. I stepped out of the water and went inside to recenter myself and pray. " Ok, spirit," I said, she is not ready, but if it be your will, present her to me again." She remained on my heart all night. I said to Lisa at dinner, "She lost someone close, she's grieving, I can feel it, but it's in the hands of the spirit. Thy will be done."
The next morning we woke. I wanted to get a good early start as we would be leaving in the afternoon. We hustled everything together, packed the car, and went back to the pool bright and early, around 8:30 am. Straight to the Jacuzzi we were chatting with folks, when to the right of me she appeared. The young, tall, thin gentleman escorted her down the stairs like royalty. She announced as she approached the last step, "I'm blind. Could you tell me if there is a place for me?" The Holy Spirit delivered.
I immediately dropped off of the gathered conversation, "Right here," I said, "I'll move down." "Thank you. You are that girl from yesterday who asked if I was ok?" "Yes, I am," I said. "I could feel your pain." She responded, "He said," referring to the gentleman with her, "you were crying." "Yes", I said, "I was."
"My God, thank you," she went on, "Every year my girlfriends and I," she got choked up, "would come here for a girls weekend and dance and have a good time. But one night, we were all supposed to go out, but I wasn't feeling well, so I stayed home, and they died, they all died in a car accident." I was supposed to be with them."
"I'm so sorry, " I said, "they were young."
"Yes," she said as the tears streamed down her face.
We engaged in conversation. I told her not to worry that I wasn't just some crazy person, but a priest who, from time to time, gets a nudge from the spirit to deliver a message. "You are loved, my dear; God loves you; you are meant to be here in this moment; keep dancing; your friends, though you cannot see them, are right here dancing with you."
She smiled and I could feel the grief lifting from her soul. She shared her story. " I'm Rhea and that's Marc, he's legally blind and on the first day here he broke his glasses. It's been a tough trip."
"Is he your son?" I said.
"No, he's my boyfriend. Why does he look young? "Yeah, I said with an assuring playful tone.
"Is he good looking?" she said.
"Oh yeah," I replied. We laughed and chatted, and by the end of the conversation, she was at peace and smiling. Before leaving, I observed her family arrive and the joy shared among them all. My heart leaped with joy!
This encounter reminded me of the Gospel of Mark, where Jesus and his disciples, despite their own weariness, were moved by compassion to minister to the needs of the people. Jesus taught, healed, and fed the crowds, embodying the essence of divine compassion. This same compassion calls us to be present for one another, to recognize the hidden pain and need for healing in our midst.
In our busy lives, we may forget to pause and connect with each other deeply. We must make time to gather as a faith community, to rest, break bread together, and be reminded of our shared humanity. Let us be open to the nudges of the spirit, guiding us to reach out and offer compassion to those around us.
As we reflect on this Gospel and my recent experience, may we be inspired to live out our faith with compassion, recognizing the presence of Christ in our interactions. Let us be the hands and feet of Jesus, bringing healing and hope to those in need.
With love and compassion,
Mo. Allison+
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