She was bent over in pain that day, the result of years of unmet expectations and disappointments with life. It’s not that she had not tried. She had. Others, however, always made it to the finish line first, got the best deals, played the winning hands, found the better bargains. Some days she felt like she could win. She started the morning with anticipation, entered into the day with confidence, but before the evening came she sensed, once again, that defeat rested on her shoulders the way a bird rests on its perch, claws clutched confidently around the small round wooden swing, holding tight and never letting go. That’s what defeat felt like. That’s what discouragement looked like. It held on and never let go.
In the night, a Bible verse called out to her. Psalm 77:9 asked, “Has God forgotten to be merciful?” She answered with a loud, “Yes! He has pulled away all mercy from me!”
Morning came, and with it a fresh breeze from the north. It fell lightly on her shoulders, reminding her of summer days when she ran in the sand down the beach, giggling as the waves splashed at her feet. Happier times. More simple times. Days when her mother ran with her, holding her hand and bringing security.
“Has God forgotten to be merciful?” she called out to the breeze, as a yellow butterfly landed on her foot. She stood more still than she had been in days. Quiet. Pensive. Thoughtful.
“No,” the answer came from somewhere in the stillness. “God cannot forget to be merciful. Mercy moves everywhere God moves. Mercy steps everywhere He steps, moving softly but confidently, just as the butterfly now moves to rest on your shoulder. God cannot forget Mercy. He is Mercy. That’s His Name.”Miraculously, gloriously, she suddenly felt covered in love, bathed as if a sprinkler had been turned right on her. It was a Mercy Bath, and she laughed as she kissed the wind that fell on her face.
Life was not over for her. She stood up straight, grabbed confidence by the hand, and walked into a new day.