and felt compassion for

It is always interesting to see what triggers our hearts' responses. Yesterday evening, my daughter watched the death throes of her pet fish of five years. We told her the fish wasn't looking well and she stared at the bowl in glistening-eyed sorrow, and when he flailed around and then fell silent and we told her that might have been the end, she burst out in heart-rending tears. Compare that to her response when we told her seven months ago that her great-grandfather had passed away -- silence, but no tears.

Contrasting responses are not confined to young children. I'll read the newspaper or scan CNN or pass by the evening news as they discuss this-and-that murdered family, or so-and-so abducted child, or whichever new hero passed away in Iraq and Afghanistan, and not a whisper of emotion will flicker within me. But whenever my wife tells me she's about to throw away some ratty undergarment of mine that I've had for years beyond acceptable usage, my heart will flutter because she's tossing out something that has been so loyal to me for so long. Don't judge me. Add your own contrast: passionate about a sports team but not the Lord; calm about the kidnapping of a missionary but livid that your waiter spilled your soup; tears shed over the death of a fictional movie character but no grief on Good Friday. And on and on, that list.

Which is why still one of my favorite quotes is "Let my heart be broken with the things that break the heart of God." Christlikeness is not just the behaviors that conform to Christ, but also the underlying heart. I'll know my heart is growing when the passing of T-shirts bothers me less than the passing of strangers.