He redeems my life from the pit. From the place of despair, of isolation and hopelessness.
He takes me from there and then He puts crowns on me. Crowns of love – I get that one. But a crown of compassion? It’s more than just His compassion for me – it’s a crown that displays His compassion but He also adorns me with it and for it. He puts His compassion on me.
Not as a yoke to signify work. Not as a cloak to signify practicality and not as staff to signify authority; but as a crown to demonstrate a gift I do not deserve, to demonstrate my adoption into His royal family. To demonstrate His exuberant generosity but also the great wealth that compassion bears.
Sometimes the weight of compassion crushes my soul. My heart breaks and my mind strains with injustice and violent aggression against the weak and the poor, the least and lowest. I become weary and overwhelmed with this compassion that can feel like a curse and something to avoid. I love this picture of compassion as a crown. The weight of it a reminder of the responsibility, but the beauty of it a reflection of the heart of God, tender, merciful, just, faithful, loving and strong. And it’s a gift, that signifies an invitation to family. Compassion is the certificate of my adoption.