Thank You for weaving mercy into the fabric of my being. You did that slowly, stitch by stitch giving me mercy lessons as You sat beside me in the devastating losses of my life. You comforted me so I could comfort others one day. You gave me a good memory that holds tightly enough to my past pain so it can fuel me for the future comfort of others, yet holds pain loosely enough to allow Your healing to enter my loss. I learned mercy from You, Father. When I saw You bring beauty from my ashes, I was ordained as a mercy minister to follow in the steps of my Teacher.
I am still learning from You, knowing these mercy lessons don’t have a graduation date. The school of mercy is ongoing and everlasting, and the first days of sprinting have given way to a marathon.
God, this is such a hard road to run. The mercy You instilled in me means I cry when others cry. I bleed when loved ones bleed. I am restless when sleep doesn’t come to the mourners around me.
I need Your protection, Lord. Show me how to walk into the pain and share a portion of the load instead of carrying another’s crisis solo. Nudge me when I push my boundaries too far. Slow my steps when I am trying to dance to my own mercy rhythms, instead of letting You lead. Most of all, God, don’t let my prideful self get in the way of the only true Healer: You! I am the echo of Your love, not the source of Love itself.
I love doing Your work, God. You made me for silent sitting and tear wiping and hand holding and heartbreak hugging. You blended encouragement into my mercy gift, enabling me to offer hope and a smile in the darkest nights. Thank You for choosing me to help your Beloveds feel Your presence and see the tangible works of Your hands.