The Most Brutally Honest Post I’ve Ever Written
How I Lost My Compassion and Am Fighting to Find It Again
Confession time.
Last week, I shared my experience as a Salvation Army bell ringer, where one unexpected act of generosity from someone with very little reminded me of the power of compassion. I also reflected on how my rugged appearance often led people, including a close friend, to overlook me.
Here’s the truth: over the last few years, I’ve become much more like those who overlooked me than those who looked me in the eye and acknowledged me.
About five years ago, I wanted to teach Will the importance of helping those in need. There was a man who often stood at a busy intersection in town, holding a sign asking for help. Will and I decided to put together a care package—food, supplies, and treats for his dog. We didn’t just hand it off and leave; we introduced ourselves, got his name, and listened to his story.
But as days turned into weeks, and weeks into years, I noticed the same man in the same spot, holding the same sign, asking for money. Even now, five years later, he’s still there. And here’s my confession: it ticks me off. I’m not proud of this feeling, but I’m being honest.
I’ve spent years volunteering at homeless shelters, and I know where the meal sites are in our town. I’ve seen how organizations like Love Chapel provide food, housing, and assistance for those in need. So, it frustrates me that this man seems content to stand on that corner rather than taking steps to move forward.
That frustration has made me jaded. I drive a lot for work, and I see people on street corners every day asking for help. Somewhere along the way, I stopped looking at them. I’ve lumped them all into one category—people who only want money with no intention of changing their situation.
But I know that’s not fair. It’s not easy to discern every person’s situation. And yes, there are people who misuse what they’re given. I understand that. But my overreaction—ignoring all people in need—has been wrong. Especially now, when so many are facing legitimate and desperate need.
A friend recently sent me a note that reminded me why it’s so important to prioritize compassion and see the humanity in others, even when it’s hard.
Her story gives a voice to those who are silently suffering:
“I was homeless for nearly three years. I felt invisible, worthless, and unlovable. But there were moments of kindness that gave me hope. A man gave me an umbrella on a cold, rainy day. A woman handed me a thick, fluffy blanket fresh from the dryer. Another brought me coffee and donuts while I rested. Those small gestures made me feel like I mattered. Sometimes, just eye contact and a smile can remind someone they’re not invisible—and it costs us nothing.”
Her words cut through my cynicism. Compassion doesn’t require perfect judgment; it requires seeing people and reminding them that they matter.
Question
Do I truly see and acknowledge the humanity in others, or have I let frustration and judgment cloud my compassion?
Peace,
Brandon
