A little girl no more than one year-old crawls over to my children and me. I am with a friend and her daughter at an Early Years Play Centre. The neon green train tracks extending from her nose to her lips are glowing as she attempts to crawl into my lap. Her caregiver is nowhere to be seen.
I remove the girl from my lap, position myself between the germ-laden child and my own, and I say (loudly in hope of a parent or caregiver hearing), "You can play with our toys, but I do not want you on my lap." I am red-faced with embarrassment of not knowing what to do.
Jesus would have wiped her nose. What is a mom to do without facial tissues in her on-hand arsenal? In today's age, I don't know if I am even comfortable wiping the child's nose knowing potential health risks, not to mention the controversy it could cause.
Because Jesus would have wiped her nose, I am left to question my feelings of disgust for the child rather than compassion. I hate it when children's noses aren't wiped to point that Rylyn boasted a red nose last October to March due to my constant wiping. I try to use a warm face cloth when I can.
I hope next time I can respond with more compassion, "Oh you poor thing, does your mommy have a tissue you can use?" I need to see the everyday through His eyes. Perhaps I would have gently advocated for the child who seemed lost from her caregiver. And perhaps, the two nannies who were more interested in talking to one another than watching the children in their care would have heard me.
I may hate snotty noses, but I love children.
~The book of Matthew on several instances (14:14, 15:32, 20:34) speaks of Jesus's compassion toward others. To provide food, healing. Mark 20:34 says the people were like sheep without a shepherd and Jesus had compassion on them. Later in John 21:17 Jesus tells Peter to feed His sheep.
Lord whatever lost lamb you bring my way, help me to care for him or her instead of judge.