=13 COMPASSION BLOSSOMS FROM RUBBLE

“This is truly weird, I'm tellin ya,” Tom Davis, the church trustee, told his wife as they both slowly walked past the missions table. It just didn't fit. They just didn't go together. The large poster on the annex wall in bold letters shouted “We're About Missions!” The rows of chairs were filling up quickly with mostly adults asking each other if everything here was supposed to fit together. Then some of them would point at the long missions table, that usually displayed all sorts of artifacts you might find around a jungle mission station. But there wasn't anything like that. And that's what caused much of the confusion.
On the mission table was a row of items easily recognized, but they didn't have anything to with each other either. First was a pile of grass clippings and small weeds. next to that was a poster clearly made by little children. There weren't any words on it. Only a ragged red Cross surrounded by a heart made of grass clippings. Next to the poster, on the table was a rock, red heart and a broken piece of glass taped to them. Maybe the oddest item on the missions table was a model airplane with a broken wing – clearly no fun for anyone to play with, and had no business on any respectable missions table.
Einstein himself wouldn't be smart enough to figure why the chair on top of the table was the last item. And there was that old corn broom leaning against the chair. Tom clearly remembered putting it in the trash about two weeks earlier. Everyone took their seats with thoughts bursting with questions.
Pastor opened the missions event with prayer and then continued through all the usual announcements etc. He paused a moment or two and then looked at all his listeners – most of which had silver hair or none at all. He began, this evening we're going to talk about trash... or actually learn about trash. Up until a few days ago, when I'd hear the word T-R-A-S-H, I'd picture all the piles of it across the street from our church. We all know there's plenty of it, in and around the old Luxman building. And then sometimes the word T-R-A-S-H would make me think of some of the teenagers we see around this part of town. I'd imagine those teens were about as worthless as that broken model airplane over there. Well, I know my feelings for the youth around us are going to be widened this evening and I'm sure yours are too. Brenda Prainor and Tammy Miah are going to share with you some exciting missions things that will also explain all these items on the missions table. I'm really anxious to learn about that grass covered heart poster. Ladies it's all yours.”
Before saying anything, Brenda and Tammy held out a large banner between them and then taped it to the wall behind the speaker's table for all to see often. It said, “COMPASSION BLOSSOMS FROM RUBBLE”. Brenda spoke told everyone, “Tammy and I are going to tell you about three people and all the objects on the missions table.” On a large easel, Tammy wrote three names in a column. Noah, Samson, and Knee Miah. She noticed a smile on most of the audience. She then added the word COUNT to the right of Noah.
The next half hour or so was used to tell the events that have happened to the two teenagers – Noah and Samson, and Tammy's son, Dean (Knee Miah).
And then Brenda said, “This church has trusted me to teach the Beginners Class, and I'm humbled that you'd allow me such an important responsibility. But all these events we've just shared with you have actually taught this teach a powerful lesson. Let me show you.” She walked over to a blackboard and spoke as she wrote on the board the words “Teens >> Dean >> Class >> their teacher.” She explained, “The lessons passed on, weren't sermons or technical facts about airplanes. The truth is, the lesson was about broken things, like that airplane, in God's plan to hold great value.
The lesson this teacher (pointing to her own heart) learned is the broken lives and dreams of teens around us are still filled with compassion for others. Sam and Noah showed this toward Dean. Maybe their brokenness connected with Dean and his bad knee and that was the the link of compassion. The point is, maybe in our push to promote missions, we're blinded by our stereotyping all our older youth into a crowd called, 'Dangerous'. That's all we have, Pastor.”
Pastor stood and spoke in a tone that only comes from deeply in the heart. “Before we close in prayer, I want to say just a word about 'dangerous'. In our last ministerial conference I learned about inside pain. Not from muscles and body pain, but mental pain... pain no medicine can reach. It's a pain within most teens today... it's the pain of having no purpose, no peace, no path to follow, no clear person to open their heart to, no person that will tell them, 'I love you – just as you are.' Those teens go to bed at night with that mental pain, knowing that in the morning, that pain will still be there, and maybe even more intense.”
“Well what I learned in the conference is that the human body can only stand that mental pain for so long, and then it erupts like a volcano. That volcano of mental pain spews anger like scalding lava all around, even on itself. I've learned in that conference and in our missions event here today that God has a mission field that began just across the street and flows through this very room we're in right now. The question each of us must answer is this: “As we see the eruptions of pain all around us, are we going to run away and hide, or will that red river of lava remind us of the red river of redemption that flows from Calvary into each of us. Can we find a way to carry that red river to the lives of broken hearts within our neighborhood? Let's stand and bow our heads.” The soul-searching prayer followed.

{end} Or is it your beginning?