Compassion, ya'll.

Ok, so the title doesn't quite scream out intelligence. Matter of fact, I probably need to change it. (No, Jenny, just roll with it.)  I'm going into a small tad of Tuesday morning, social-media confession, I scan my Facebook from my smart phone in the mornings before I arise. (Guilty.) I lie and tell myself it's for news purposes. (I know. I know. It's a lie.) A top story shared by KARK and Fox16 provides the details of an Arkansas Death Row Inmate's death at our local county hospital. I click the link. Joe Dansby, a convicted man of Capitol Murder (2 counts), died. Then, I scroll the comments. (WHY? Why else, it's social media. No really, why did I subject myself to that?)  There it begins. The comments. My heart is empty sick as if my heart had vomited as violent as first trimester morning sickness or bad buffet meat.  As it is, my mind bounces back between the created images of the victims to Mr. Dansby's crimes to inmate photo of Mr. Dansby to the mourning Dansby family to comments of  "saving tax payers money" and (this one... really got me, you may want to skip it.) "kill them all." (I forewarned you.) Death. Death is a loss regardless of the point of origin. My mind again begins to fill with images, only this time, with the images of the cross. My Savior there between the two other convicted men, the compassion that flowed from the middle cross and continues to flow today. Where would I be without that compassion? I'll can guess. LOST. DONE. DEATH. And a good chance with my road rage and other female contributed anger, possibly a convict with the ADC. (Joking, but you get my point*.) Compassion somehow gets mixed with judgment to make an ugly color. My mind holds compassion as this brilliant red that washes everything white, pure, gracefully sparkling; isn't that how it worked over 2000 years ago.  (And still working today I might add!) Then my minds rushes to the thief on the cross, what his face may have looked like, possibly like Inmate Dansby, to the crowd that appeared that day to watch those on the crosses suffer and die. Then I want to comment, "Compassion, ya'll." Jesus did it. Hello. (or HelllllRRR in my bestest Madea voice) That means we ALL should too!

2 Corinthians 1:3-4 Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God. 

**Dear Reader.
I  too have many moments of non-compassion of which my Savior and I chat about on a daily basis. If you are reading this, you have probably witnesses some of the ugly. Please consider this as my disclaimer.
The Chief Sinner, Jenny. →→→→→→→→→→→→→→→→→→→→→

Catching a magic moment.

Right Now. I instantly go to the Pepsi commercial... 1994, and then I go to Mrs. Bryant's first period English class. Andy Bridges suggested the song. I was third seat. First row. Judith Taylor; Shawn Thurber in front of my desk. Christy Bowerman behind me. To my left, Ladonna Bosley. Kristi Furr. Kim McBride.  It's funny I can remember that, but can't remember to get toilet paper until I'm back on the road headed home from the grocery store. What gives? 

 

Right now, hey 
It's your tomorrow 
Right now, 
C'mon,it's everything 
Right now, 
Catch a magic moment, do it 
Right here and now 
It means everything 

We just had our 20th Reunion Weekend. Nothing fancy, but simple and easy.  It was a small crowd, but we were a small class.  As I laughed during the evening with our classmates, it hit me, Right Now - that moment was our tomorrow 20 years ago. I am pretty certain that in May, 1994, we didn't really care if we seen the majority our classmates 20 years later or not. We'd spent the last 12 years together. We'd seen it all. Everyday. We had witnessed each others paths, the good, the bad, and the ugly.... hit fast forward (& someone hit it quick because WOW, it's flown by); June, 2014, the path from 20 years ago, the good, the bad, and the ugly... it didn't matter.  We laughed. And laughed some more.  And laughed again. For some of you that may not know, I married my jr.high/high school sweetheart. At one point, I looked down the table at the Mr. The Mr. laughs a lot. Everyday. But this laugh was different, he was laughing in a manner that I have not witnessed in years. This laugh was special, it made a 20 year comeback. The laugh could only be produced by childhood/teenage guy friends. Lucky Ross to be exact. It was good to see that laugh on my husband's face again. Matter of fact, it was good to see the laughs on lots of faces last night. I caught a magic moment. Right here and now, it means everything. They say laughter is good for the soul. 20 year old laughter is really, really good for the soul and so is the time with friends that remember the original magic moment.