As a high school senior, before I was to play Jesus, I was John the Baptist. In front of God and the hundreds in worship, accompanied only by my friends, I sang “Prepare Ye the Way of the Lord”. I belted out my solo as I paraded down the aisle to promote our youth group’s coming production of “Godspell”. As we rehearsed “It’s All for the Best” I was transformed from John to Jesus, but I never got to play Jesus on stage. (And no, I’ve not been trying to play Jesus ever since).

A fortnight before the production, I went to the doctor because I had a sore arm. I was joking with the x-ray technician, before he changed his demeanor. The x-ray revealed a hole in my left humerus bone. I sensed something was wrong when we went from being humorous to a serious humerus. The doctor said it looked like bone cancer and we should go to MD Anderson Cancer Center to get their insights. He said it might take a month to get in, but we flew out the next day to stay with cousins in Dallas while dad tried pulling strings in Houston.

Two days after the production, the cast gathered to call me in the hospital. It was the day before my surgery. One teenager after another got on the phone to ask, “How are you doing?” The 20 questions never got creative, but the meaning of their compassion grew with each voice. I don’t really remember what we said, but I’ll never forget that they called.

The lesson for my ministry was this: my presence was more important than my avoidance stemming from worry I might say the wrong thing. A simple phone call from a lined-up youth group provided a healing balm such as I would never have imagined before my experience. 

When have you received a simple act of caring you will never forget? Where have you sought to show your caring to another person? How might you look for opportunities to bring compassion to the world?