Embodying Compassion
When you hear the word compassion, what comes to mind? For me, it brings back memories of my first short-term medical mission to China. As a dental hygienist and new Christian, I joined a team that embodied compassion in every interaction. They didn’t just provide medical care—they entered into the lives of the patients and staff at psychiatric hospitals, listening deeply and creating space for people to share their struggles. When someone was hurting, they prayed with genuine concern and care.
This was the first time I truly worked alongside people who lived out compassion. Before my faith, I often chose comfort over challenge and avoided pain. But my teammates chose differently: they stepped into places of suffering, offering not only their skills but also their presence, time, and heartfelt care. That experience shaped my understanding of what compassion means. Compassion means choosing to step into places of pain and suffering.
My reflections on compassion are also inspired by Henri Nouwen’s book Compassion. In his book Compassion, Henri Nouwen explains that the word comes from the Latin com (with) and passio (suffering), meaning “to suffer with.” He writes that compassion calls us to go where it hurts, to enter places of pain, to share in brokenness, fear, confusion, and anguish.
18 years have passed since my first medical mission to China. For the past decade, I lived in Sierra Leone, a place where so many people suffer from extreme poverty. Sierra Leone is one of the poorest countries in the world, and many families, especially in communities like Kroo Bay, face daily struggles with food insecurity, unstable housing, and limited access to medical care. My work with Word Made Flesh Sierra Leone centered on walking alongside women and families in these vulnerable communities. These relationships have profoundly shaped my understanding of compassion. This past March, my family returned to Canada due to ongoing health challenges I faced. Now I receive good medical care and live amidst the abundance of North America.
Yet my heart remains connected to Sierra Leone. I stay in touch with colleagues and youth there, and I continue to hear their stories of struggle and suffering. Lately, I’ve been reflecting on what it means to keep showing love and compassion to them. What does it truly mean to step into their places of pain and suffering?
When you hear the word compassion, what comes to mind? I’ve already said that compassion means choosing to step into places of pain and suffering. Well, what does it mean to you? What experiences led you to this? I’ll let you think for a minute.
When I think of compassion, I am mindful that we have a compassionate God. He demonstrated compassion by entering fully into human life through Jesus Christ. Christ stepped into places of human suffering. As Isaiah 53:3 says, “He was despised and rejected by mankind, a man of suffering, and familiar with pain.” Jesus is God, the King of kings. He did not have to enter places of pain and suffering—yet He willingly chose to do so.
I believe we are called to live a life of compassion, following in the footsteps of Jesus. Stepping into places of pain and suffering is countercultural and far from easy. Yet we are not called to an easy life—we are called to emulate the life of Christ.
Lately, I’ve been reflecting on Romans 12:15: “Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn.” My Sierra Leonean friends embody this verse so beautifully.
I’m reminded of the time I lived on the edge of the Kroo Bay slum with a Sierra Leonean family. One of the greatest lessons I learned there was how deeply people enter into the grief of others. When someone in the neighborhood loses a loved one, nearly everyone comes to the bereaved person’s home. They spend half the day there and often just sit quietly, saying very little other than “Osh,” which means “Sorry” in Krio.
It is remarkable to see an entire community gathered simply to offer presence and comfort. What does it mean to mourn with others who mourn? I believe it is about entering into another’s pain with compassion. My Sierra Leonean neighbors taught me that true compassion is embodied—it is showing up, sitting in silence, and sharing the weight of sorrow together.
Speaking of embodying compassion, I would like to share about two colleagues who live it out beautifully.
The first is my colleague, Fatmata, who has served with Word Made Flesh (WMF) Sierra Leone for the past six years. A few weeks ago, she sent me a message asking for prayer for one of the women in our ministry, “Amy.” Amy is pregnant, but the baby’s father denies paternity. He has told her to leave his house, leaving her without shelter, and is pressuring her to abort the baby. “But the amazing thing is that she wants to keep the baby,” Fatmata shared.
Amy is thriving in the WMF Sierra Leone tailoring program, where she often mentors other women. She loves spending time at the ministry center—even on days when there is no training. Please join me in praying for Amy.
When Fatmata asks for prayer or support—especially on behalf of vulnerable women—she does so with deep passion and conviction. She consistently goes the extra mile. “This Sunday, I will go with Amy to talk to her boyfriend,” she told me. Though Sunday is her day off, Fatmata willingly gives her time to those in need. She sacrificially steps into places of pain.
This kind of compassion has been faithfully lived out at WMF Sierra Leone for over two decades. In 2002, Fatmata joined WMF SL as a participant. At that time, she was living on the streets, struggling with poverty and lacking direction. Through the compassionate care of WMF staff, she experienced love, joy, peace, and respect. That same year, she came to know Jesus—making 2002 one of the most memorable years of her life.
Fatmata is a survivor of sexual abuse and endured deep trauma. She too experienced a pregnancy where the father denied responsibility. Like Amy, she chose to keep the baby. Today, her son Sammy is studying medicine in Russia.
Six years ago, Fatmata became a staff member at WMF SL and now serves on the board. She passionately advocates for vulnerable women like Amy and continues to teach me what it means to go where it hurts. At a WMF SL board meeting a few years ago, I witnessed the depth of Fatmata’s compassion for the women of Kroo Bay. I was presenting a proposal to launch a women’s ministry at WMF SL, outlining the heartbreaking reality of widespread sexual exploitation. As I spoke, Fatmata wept—overcome with grief—for several minutes. In that moment, my seminary education and role as Field Director suddenly felt small in comparison to the profound compassion she embodied.
Another colleague who embodies compassion is Salome, who has served with WMF SL for the past 11 years. She is our women’s ministry coordinator and has been like a mother to many youth from the Kroo Bay slum area.
During the Ebola outbreak in Sierra Leone, Kroo Bay was considered high-risk due to its dense population. At that time, a teenager named Heather was suffering from severe bleeding after an abortion. Salome risked her own life to save Heather. She went to Kroo Bay to visit her—not just once, but many times. Heather eventually recovered and is now attending university, studying accounting.
Salome’s courage and willingness to step into Heather’s suffering inspire me deeply. Embodying compassion is costly. That was true of Jesus, who lowered Himself to be born as a human and stepped into the pain and suffering of humanity.
Let us pause for a moment and reflect on what stands out to us as we consider compassion.
Prayer Points
- Pray that God would grow our compassion.
- Pray that we would learn to emulate the life of Jesus, who chose to step into humanity’s pain and suffering.
- Pray that those suffering from poverty around the world would be comforted by the God of compassion.
- Pray that the Body of Christ would grow more sensitive to the needs of those experiencing material poverty.
Jennifer Ney | WMF Sierra Leone Global Advocate
Jennifer was born in Seoul, South Korea, and raised in a Catholic family. At the age of 17, she experienced a personal encounter with Christ, which gave her courage to serve God in unexpected ways and places. After working for about a decade as a dental hygienist, she felt a strong calling to full-time missions and began serving in Vancouver’s inner city, working alongside individuals facing drug addiction, homelessness, and mental illness.
From 2014 to 2017, Jennifer served as Advocacy Coordinator with Word Made Flesh Sierra Leone, and from 2019 to 2024, she held the role of Field Director. Her work centered in Kroo Bay, a slum community in the capital city of Freetown, where she engaged deeply in ministry with vulnerable women and children. Jennifer is married to Stephen Ney, and together they adopted their sons, Ezekiel and Nathaniel, in 2020 while living in Sierra Leone. She has a passion for reading and delights in continually learning new things.