The Manifestation of Mercy

I wonder if grace is the manifestation of mercy.

I’ve been listening and wrestling with God for so many years now, and never intended grace to become the theme of my life. Courage, boldness, a willingness to speak truth maybe, but not grace. I am known for all those other things, yes. But by far these days, these last several years, I’ve become a woman who simply needs grace.

I need the gentle presence of mystery and a softly spoken word. I need people to assume the best and show the willingness to rest in misunderstanding and to accept me in my weaknesses as never before. In fact, a friend asked me to sing on a worship team last week and I couldn’t muster up the courage to be on a stage. It gave me horrible anxiety. If you know me, that is awe striking. I’ve never been afraid of the stage, and now I can do about one large crowd a week and then I need to retire once again to a small and hidden life where I can be quiet. Will I be like this forever? Probably not. But maybe. Life changes us.

I pray for mercy all the time now. Over the past several years it has become the central prayer of my life. This was not intentional. It simply transpired over time.

What I’m discovering is that it’s only when we realize what we need in our own lives that we can even begin to comprehend what others may need and extend the same to our fellow pilgrims on the way. To do unto them as I would ask them to do for me. 

I see people all around me who have this overwhelming ache, who are tired and weary of life’s demands on them. People are leaving organized religion in droves. They are choosing a spiritual life rather than a religious one. I wonder if some of this means they’ve had it with legalistic measuring rods of good and bad and have been hurt by them?

In hot yoga a few months ago I ended up talking to a young woman who told me she left church at sixteen because they told her her father would burn in hell because he hadn’t prayed the sinner’s prayer. She hasn’t walked into a church since, out of loyalty to her father. Does this mean she’s chosen family ties over discipleship to Jesus? I don’t know. But maybe it isn’t very helpful to tell people where their parents are going to spend eternity, especially when I don’t know where I am going to spend my day tomorrow. A wee bit of humility about eternal things would serve us well. 

We are a people in need of grace. The soft cushion of mercy, not the intolerant rod of right and wrong, or the wide road of whatever goes. But the pilgrim’s journey to a God of abundant grace.

If you’ve ever been around a person of overwhelming grace, it’s really quite special. They make room for you and let you breathe, accept you just as you are without making you feel like you’re supposed to change so they’ll feel better and be more at peace. I live in a home with such people. After I came back to Seattle, my friends, Tricia and Glenn, invited me to live with them and made room, gave me a wide and spacious place to settle into my life here. I’ve become convinced that generosity in all its forms is one of the most authentic signs of a heart who knows God.

This week, I translated for a mother who is exhausted and overwhelmed on every level. Her son has excruciating chronic pain. There is no end in sight. The doctors have done everything. She has tried everything. I sat next to her and cried with her. Lord have mercy … that is so hard.

On Monday, I met a woman who lost her toddler son two years ago. She spoke of it as if I should know, and I hadn’t heard. I cried and asked if I could hug her and she melted into me with a deep sigh. Someone was sharing her pain, if even for a moment and what horrible pain that is.

No one is walking an easy road. So many people are doing the very best they can, loving their children, going to work, making dinner, paying their bills.

May we be grace to people, may we be the mercy people so often crave, the tender whisper of gentle kindness that echoes into the eternal kindness of God. 

I had people call me a while ago and try to persuade me to change my course of action, to do what they thought I should be doing. It’s remarkable to me how easy it is to think we know what someone else needs to do. I have been that way for so much of my life. And finally realize I have no idea what you should do with your life. But I’ll be a witness, I’ll cheer you on, I’ll stand and watch and pray with you and join you in your search for God.

What surprised me was the underlying fear I heard in their voices. “Tina, you alone will stand before God for what you are doing … ” My first response was to defend myself. Later that night, while I was listing my internal justifications to myself, I paused.

Is that really where we are? Are we still peddling a gospel of works? Have we forgotten that it’s all grace from start to finish? That if I think I stand based on my own works, I forfeit the grace that could be mine? “Lord if you marked our transgressions, who could stand?” 

For Reflection and Conversation:  How have your prayers changed over the years? Has the theme of your life shifted in ways that surprise you?

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