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Adoptive Parents Need Compassion

A good friend died a few years ago. He was the most compassionate man that I have ever known. He was a staff pastor at the church that our family attended for fifteen years. Early on, I recognized that he was someone special and asked him if I could tag along when he was ministering to people.

We met about twenty years ago. I was struggling with the things that God was doing with my life. I was feeling a lot of compassion for people, but I was also mad at some folks and downright difficult with others. My friend never met a person that he did not like and I never heard him speak negatively of anyone. That is saying something because I knew him well, in good times and bad.

He had grown up as a country boy. He once told me that he was country before it became cool. He had spent a lot of his life as the pastor of various small Baptist churches. Most of the churches were so small that he had to have a second job to support his family.

In a church where titles were not customary, he wanted to be known as “Brother Bo”. Brother Bo’s specialty was pastoral care. He spent most of his time visiting the sick and dying. I tagged along because I wanted to learn by watching him. He could have been a politician because it seemed like every person in every hospital that we visited knew him by name.

I can give some examples of what he was like. If you told him you were broke, he would reach for his wallet. If you told him a sad story, he would cry with you. He helped me play a practical joke on my wife in which he had to spin a yarn with her. He pulled it off in spectacular fashion. We laughed about it for years.

I will never have the heart for people that Brother Bo had. But I do think that some of what he had in his heart may have rubbed off on me. It was like being an apprentice; the trade he taught me was loving and serving people. My relationship with him changed me for the better.

When I met Brother Bo, my primary goal was climbing the corporate ladder and amassing as much money as possible. Retiring early and taking a big financial hit in order to raise adopted children did not fit with that plan. Watching Bo in action helped me. He lived modestly and served others. Over a thousand people came to his funeral. He was a very successful man.

The last time that I saw him, he was dying of cancer in an intensive care unit. He was in a lot of pain from an operation on one of his lungs the day before. He told me two things. First, despite all of his pain and suffering, he was all right with God. Second, a pastor that he didn’t know well had just died a few beds over and he wanted to try to comfort the man’s family.