A Story of Mercy
Mercy: (especially of a journey or mission) performed out of a desire to relieve suffering; motivated by compassion
Walking through a tough season of pain, disappointment, and loss, I am feeling jaded and worn. My hallelujah is tired. I am tempted to draw a line in the sand of my faith and say, “I can’t go any further. I might even take a step back. This is TOO MUCH.”
But God is waiting in my doorway, standing on my doorstep, just waiting for me to open the door. He hasn’t left, and he hasn’t yelled to be let in. He’s just…waiting. I look out my windows at Him and contemplate the person that disappointed me. Who didn’t answer me when I called. I am angry at Him, and I am unsure of our relationship. How do I act if I let Him in? Can I hear what He has to say?
But then He sends people to me that I do trust. He softens the blow and heals my heart even though I’ve kept him standing on my doorstep. They tell me that He is waiting for me to show Him my brokenness. That if I would let him offer me mercy, He wants to relieve me of my suffering and fill me with the only things that can fill this hole in my heart. Faith, joy in suffering, and hope.
I unlock the deadbolt.
Unable to stop thinking about the storm swelling under the surface, I tell Him, “I’m not ready to let you in yet. But I’m here. I am still here.” I pull a chair up to the window and talk to Him through the door.
I ask a lot of questions, laced with distrust and anger. He listens.
I stop asking. And open the door a crack.
He reaches around the frame and holds my hand.
All he offers me is comfort. Reminders of his love for me. He tells me that His heart breaks too. That I am brave. And that the mercy of redemption is always on the table, and He is always sitting at it.
He stills sits on my doorstep, but my door is cracked a little. We are talking now. Maybe we’ll laugh some too.
But I’m not hiding anymore. My shades are not fully drawn. I’m letting the sun in, even when my skin cringes at the exposure.
{God, thank you for never withdrawing your mercy. Thank you that you never take mercy off the table for me. Help me to take it today and offer myself to follow you.}