A golden dust has been sprinkled over everything in our part of Florida. We move through it. We walk on it. We breathe it in.
OK, so it is really yellow, not gold, and it is ordinary oak pollen. But ordinary though it may be, it is ubiquitous, and it is insidious. You may first become aware of it when you notice the yellow coating on the car and the garbage can lid, or perhaps when you begin sneezing and your eyes start itching and your nose starts running. (I am writing with a wad of Kleenex next to the computer keyboard.)
Even more pervasive — and far more precious than this golden dust that brings tears to our swollen eyes — is the mercy of God. Like the pollen, we walk through it and breathe it in. Not only that, but it fills every atom of our being. We sleep wrapped in mercy, and we wake refreshed by it. And God’s mercy, unlike the oak pollen, doesn’t make our nose run, but instead heals what is raw in us and calms what is troubled. Rather than clouding our eyes, it gives us clearer vision.
Contrary to what society would have us believe, mercy is not a feeble virtue. It is a mighty force, stronger than wrath or threats or vengeance, which are ineffective as incentives to righteousness. But the power of mercy claims us, directs us, and sometimes surprises us into goodness.
The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases,
his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.“The Lord is my portion,” says my soul,
“therefore I will hope in him.”
(Lamentations 3:22-24)