"Do this"

Minding your own business you are traveling along be-bopping to the latest hit song on the radio when all of a sudden up jump some guys who beat you up, take your money, phone, and clothes and leave you in the ditch to die. You can barely lift your head up off the ground and you are choking on a mixture of blood and dirt when you see someone well dressed approaching. Your heart leaps and you call out for help…in a whisper at first, and then louder. You see him stop, look at you, make a disgusted face, and then keep walking. Your heart sinks! Did he not see you? He was looking right at you! You call out for him over and over as loud as you can but he doesn't come back, he’s gone. 

A few hours later you wake up sweaty and sunburned, your head is pounding with a headache; the wounds are now attracting flies and gnats. The part of your lips that aren't caked with blood are dried and cracked, and your throat is a dry as the desert ground you are lying on.

But what’s this?! Another man is approaching, you call out, now as loud as you can, and barely a whisper comes out. He stops, he looks, you have no doubt this time that he sees you and you hope that he’ll reach down and help you; you’re not sure how much longer you’ll last. But, he doesn't speak a word, doesn't reach down to help you up, he keeps on walking. In sheer exhaustion and despair you close your eyes thinking to yourself, “this is it, I’m a dead man”. 

The next thing you know, you feel two gentle hands wiping away the blood and dirt from your face and your wounds. You try to open your eyes but only the left one will obey, the other is swollen shut. You try to speak but nothing comes out. The man who is cleaning your wounds encourages you to lie still and quiet, to rest. He has a kind face…but hold up a minute; you can tell he’s a Samaritan! You were raised by your parents and other adults that they were to be hated. They weren't to be trusted; they were only half Jews and didn't keep the whole law!

But still, the kindness and compassion in his eyes and voice…He finishes cleaning your wounds and begins to put a soothing medicine on them, which he quickly covers with bandages. He then slowly lifts you up from the ditch giving you a chance to steady yourself on the only leg that isn't throbbing in pain. Then he helps you get on his donkey…it’s a this point you see that the sun is going down and you wonder where he’s taking you at this time of the day. 

You awake with a start and  realize its morning, but  you're no longer on a donkey or outside, you’re in a soft warm bed! The sun is high in the sky and streaming through the window, it must be lunch time, your stomach growls to confirm it. A man comes in with a tray of food which you want to devour but you take it slow…you ask him where the man that helped you was. He says that he’s gone, but not to worry, he had given instructions and money to feed and house you until you were healthy and strong enough to be on your way again. You marvel at the tremendous kindness of a man who didn't know you, and didn't owe you that kind of care. Two men had seen you first but kept walking...what made the third man, the Samaritan stop?

Why would this man be moved enough to stop, have compassion, and act on it to help me?