I woke up a couple of mornings ago with a strong sense of my need for the mercy of God.  I’m in one of those spots where I’m facing a demanding situation and insufficient personal resources to address it—in the natural realm, an unwelcome and difficult place to be, yet, spiritually, an excellent position to be in.

It reminded me of something that happened many years ago, when I was in my early 20s.  I was anticipating moving into a “church house” being started for young, single working women.  We were trying to come up with a name for our house that represented who we were—all I could think of was “House of Mercy”.  Well, to say that name fell flat is a mild understatement!  My friend, the one chosen to be the overseer of the house did not like that name because it communicated a sense of weakness or vulnerability, attributes she did not think represented who we were.

I definitely could see her point; I do not like weakness and certainly do not want anyone to think of me as needy.  Our society, for the most part, rejects neediness, particularly when it might invade another’s space or resources; emotional neediness definitely puts strains on friendships and relationships.  Yet there is something very strong in God’s mercy, because it is in those times when we feel the neediest or the weakest that we are positioned to see God’s saving grace—as he spoke to Paul, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9).

Many years have passed since that experience; and I am growing increasingly appreciative of Mercy.  Too many poor choices, too many unvirtuous attitudes, way too many careless words remind me of my weaknesses, my vulnerabilities—and apart from the mercy of God, which I cannot earn, I would be lost in the quicksand of depression!

It would be quite easy to blame my performance-based mentality on a religious upbringing; however, much of our society is accomplishment driven, particularly when defining success—which we tend to measure in dollar signs.  Unconsciously, it is easy to adopt some of the opinions expressed around me rather than searching out God’s opinion from His Word or listening to what the Holy Spirit might have to say.

For instance, “But when the goodness and loving kindness of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not because of works done by us in righteousness, but according to his own mercy, by the washing of regeneration and renewal of the Holy Spirit, whom he poured out on us richly through Jesus Christ our Savior” (Titus 3:4-6).  He not only saved us for eternity, he also cleanses, regenerates, and renews our lives in the present through the Holy Spirit, whom he poured out on us richly through Jesus Christ our Savior”. 

I cannot tell you how much I appreciate that there is no, “I’ve had it just about up to here with you, young (old?) lady…!”  With God, there is no quota on sin He will forgive if we ask; no, “you are trying my patience and you have gone too far this time”; no, “I was going to answer your prayers, but you just have not been doing your part”.  In fact, “the steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is [His] faithfulness” (Lamentations 3:22-24).

The author goes on to paint a picture of how we receive Gods mercy: “‘The Lord is my portion,’ says my soul, ‘therefore I will hope in him.’  The Lord is good to those who wait for him, to the soul who seeks him.  It is good that one should wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord” (v. 24-26).  Nurturing a relationship based on hope and waiting quietly for God does not come easily in our “just don’t stand there, do something” world!

I have watched many, many VeggieTales stories with my grandchildren, and one phrase, spoken by Larry-Boy frequently comes to visit me:  “With great chocolate comes great responsibility”.  I know it is silly; however, as I was considering what to write here, the phrase came back to me a bit differently.  “With great mercy comes great responsibility.”  Not a “sit back and enjoy the ride” perspective, or even a “oh well, God still loves me” carelessness; instead, we are to “render true judgments, show kindness and mercy to one another” (Zechariah 7:9).  Jesus told a parable about an unforgiving servant, who pleaded with his master to forgive his huge debt, then turned around and abused his fellow servant who owed him but a pittance—the response of the master was, “should not you have had mercy on your fellow servant, as I had mercy on you?” (Matthew 18:33).

And in the parable of the Good Samaritan, where self-righteousness and judgment came so much easier than compassion, Jesus taught the one seeking to justify himself, that to love one’s neighbor is to show mercy—and Jesus went on to tell his questioner, “You go, and do likewise” (Luke 10:37).

I confess that my attitudes and words frequently reveal a lack of mercy in my heart—I am so eager and at times desperate to receive God’s mercy, yet my opinions and speech often confirm the same self-righteous and judgmental spirit of the lawyer who questioned Jesus.  At those times, all I can do is repent and open my heart to the washing, regenerating and renewing work of the Holy Spirit.

My hope is also that my home and the homes of my children and their families will become and remain “Houses of Mercy”.