Compassion — The Womb of God’s Heart!

Psalm 116:5 Gracious is the LORD, and righteous; Yes, our God is merciful.

Exodus 33:19  And he said, “I will make all my goodness pass before you and will proclaim before you my name ‘The LORD.’ And I will be gracious to whom I will be gracious, and will show mercy on whom I will show mercy. 

Isaiah 54:7-8 For a mere moment I have forsaken you, But with great mercies I will gather you. 8  With a little wrath I hid My face from you for a moment; But with everlasting kindness I will have mercy on you,” Says the LORD, your Redeemer. 

The mercy of God is not a distant concept—it’s His very nature. From Genesis to Revelation, God reveals Himself as righteous, just, and profoundly compassionate. His mercy is not a reaction; it’s a reflection of His divine character.

When Moses asked to see God’s glory, what was revealed? Goodness, grace, and mercy—not thunderbolts or judgment, but compassion flowing from the very heart of the Almighty.

The Hebrew word for compassion, rakhamim (רַחֲמִים), comes from the root rechem (רֶחֶם), meaning womb. This is no coincidence. Just as the womb protects, nurtures, and gives life, so God’s compassion embraces us in our weakness, shelters us in our wandering, and breathes hope into our despair.

Even in seasons of correction, God’s heart never grows cold. His discipline may be real, but it is always measured and momentary. What feels like abandonment is often just a pause in His visible presence, not in His love.

As Isaiah reminds us: “For a mere moment I forsook you, but with great compassion I will gather you. In a little wrath I hid My face, but with everlasting kindness I will have mercy on you.” (Isaiah 54:7–8)

His mercy endures far beyond His anger, and His kindness knows no end. Though He may allow distance for a season, His compassion never stops pursuing us—it always makes a way back to His embrace. Where sin has scattered, His mercy gathers. Where wrath is momentary, His love is everlasting. Even when we forget Him, He remembers us—faithfully, tenderly, completely.

The greatest revelation of God’s compassion came through Yeshua (Jesus), the Messiah. He was compassion in flesh, reaching, touching, healing, restoring. He touched the leper, sat with the sinner, wept with the grieving, and restored the broken. He even healed on Shabbat, declaring by His actions that human need outweighed religious customs.

Yeshua never asked, “Are you worthy?” Instead, He asked, “What do you want Me to do for you?” (Matthew 20:32)

This is divine compassion: it was not merit-based, but need-driven. Yeshua didn’t just feel sympathy—He acted, often with a touch, always with love.

If we are made in the image of God, then compassion must flow from us, too. We are not called to passive emotion but to active mercy; we are called to do the same to dispense true justice and practice lovingkindness and compassion. (Zechariah 7:9)

True compassion steps in, speaks up, and stretches out its hands. It’s not afraid to get messy. It’s not reserved for the “deserving.” It reflects God’s heart to a world that’s forgotten what love looks like.

So let the womb of God’s heart—His deep, life-giving compassion—be formed in you. Just as a mother carries and nurtures life within her, allow God’s Spirit to cultivate in you a heart that is ready to hold the hurting, heal the broken, and help the weary. Compassion isn’t complete until it moves beyond emotion and becomes action. Don’t settle for merely feeling sorry—become a vessel of mercy. Step in. Speak up. Reach out. Let your life be a living expression of God’s compassion to a world desperate for His touch.

Copyright 1999-2025 Worthy Devotions. This devotional was originally published on Worthy Devotions and was reproduced with permission.

How to display the above article within the Worthy Suite WordPress Plugin.

[worthy_plugins_devotion_single_body]

A farmer and his friend went duck hunting. Eventually, they got to talking about the things of God, as they always would. "You're always talking about these battles you have with the devil," the farmer's friend said to him. "It's so silly – I mean, I'm not even a Christian and I've never experienced anything like that."

Have you ever noticed that when people are in love, they tend to forget everything else? Everything becomes secondary — cars, houses, money — nothing matters — it is all secondary to love. Then, when they fall out of love, as in a divorce, all of a sudden those things mean everything! They argue about all the little meaningless things they ever owned together. Each wants it all for himself.

The Hebrew word for a dried up river bed is "Nachal". Israel has many of these. Here, in Israel it rains in winter, but not in summer. In the summer, these places stand as a testament of the rains that once fell and of the rains yet to come. Then, when they do come, the Nechalim (nachal plural) almost instantly fill with water. This is what the Scripture means when it says, "I will give you rivers in the desert." There is a promise in that for us.

In 1917, the Ottoman Empire controlled the city of Aqaba which seemed impregnable to any attack. Behind the city in every direction was a vast desert, and overlooking the city’s harbor were huge naval guns protecting it against any enemy attack from the sea.

Solomon wrote, “a merry heart has a continual feast!” But why does it seem like so many of us are not feasting? How do we maintain a merry heart?

A well known speaker started off his seminar by holding up a $20 bill. In the room of two hundred, he asked, "Who would like this $20 bill?" Hands immediately started going up.

The revivalist D.L. Moody was on vacation in England from his ministry in Chicago. At one point during his sabbatical there, a local pastor prevailed upon Moody to speak at his parish church. So D.L. went to preach the next Sunday morning. That afternoon he recorded in his journal that it was the deadest crowd he had ever seen and the only thing worse than preaching to those people was that he had promised to speak again the same night.