His Compassion

It was a freezingly cold evening last week, and I sat at a very high bench in a warmly lit dining room at a retirement home in the podunk town of Three Rivers. It was "Family Night," the monthly party where the families of the residents gather for desserts and entertainment. As I sat there singing love songs and playing Chopin's "Minute Waltz," I couldn't help but wonder how on earth this could be a blessing to the heart of my King and how it could draw these precious people closer to Him.

Well, we had an intermission and ate homemade black cherry ice cream and cookies and chatted, and then I played and sang for another half hour and all was merry. Then we all sang hymns and then it was over.

I began to put away all of my books when a flood of people came up to me. They all complimented me, and one kind man even handed me $5 with a smile and said, "To help pay for gas." Still, it didn't feel as though I had really done anything for Jesus.

Just as I was getting ready to leave, a woman walked up to me, her expression rather solemn. As she drew nearer to me, she put her hands on my arms and looked up into my eyes. She looked as though she was about to cry.

Before she even spoke, such a compassion and deep love for this precious woman welled up inside of me that all I could do was smile and look into her eyes.

"Thank you," she began to cry, and I held her in my arms like you would a heartbroken child.

"I'm sorry. This is my first day here," she began. "I went to the doctor at nine thirty this morning and they didn't want me to go home alone. I didn't want to be here today, and I was late getting here tonight because we were still getting my things from home. But I used to want to be an opera singer, and your performance tonight was exactly what I needed."

Just when you think that what you have to offer is insignificant, God will prove Himself to be the Author of your story in the most beautiful ways.

Trust Him today.

And, if you have an extra twenty minutes, watch this video.

And, if you don't have an extra twenty minutes, watch this video.

I saw it the other morning at a music teacher's convention, and I can't explain exactly how God used it to touch me, but I left WMU feeling extremely inspired. Even if you haven't the slightest interest in classical music (it's not exactly on my top list of priorities) there is something about Benjamin Zander's smile and his advice that captivated me, and I hope it does the same thing for you. May we all strive to never leave a room without leaving behind "shining eyes."

http://www.ted.com/talks/benjamin_zander_on_music_and_passion.html