The rain of Mercy

Your mercies are new

My eyes opened and were met with the thought.

The previous day’s shame soon broke into the the moment as a thief

I spoke my shame. Confession,

speaking that which was hidden in my bones from the day before.

I stepped out from my hiding place and stood naked

My confession cried the cry of my bones.

My confession sought reconnection with my Father.

He seeks me out,

in my shame,

in my unacceptability, and he invites me to connection.

His mercies are new every morning.

 

Mercies were offered in the garden and shame won.

The man and the woman remained hidden, covered and clothed

cowering from their Creator Father.

Their shame kept them from connection

from receiving mercy.

 

What does mercy look like?

How does it reveal itself in the morning of my life?

I laid in bed with thoughts of mercy

I waited

I continued to wrestle with my own choices driven by separation.

A long list of rebellions crowded my mind, shoving for attention

Can get beyond their tempting grasp?

Your mercies are new every morning.

What does mercy look like?

 

Rain.

At that question, rain fell.

Unexpected, cooling, glorious rain.

I listened.

As the raindrops fell, their sound sang out the melody of mercy.

I listened with eyes closed to the sound of mercy.

Rain.

Each drop, undeserved.

Each drop, nourishes the dry ground.

Each drop, refreshes, renews, restores.

Each drop, washing the dust from the day before, creating a new palette.

Each drop, met with another and another soon their sound created a song that rang out over creation

Your mercies are new every morning.

 

Your mercy.

Your compassion.

Your forgiveness,

Shown toward me,

Though it is within your power to punish me.

And,You, meet me instead with mercy

Every

Single

Morning

 

Great is your faithfulness

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