Growing up my parents lived on a quiet dirt road that had another road branching off from it. Both roads were dead ends, there were was only one way entrance to my parents street. Kids ran around the whole neighborhood and all the adults took responsibility for all the kids in the neighborhood. You could be yelled at from any of them to sit up and fly right. I got into a scuffle with two of the neighbor boys, it started out as fun throwing dirt clumps at each other and getting dirty. Well, I got the great idea to stick a rock in one of my dirt clumps, because the neighbor boys were getting too rough with my friend and I, and I wanted to even the score. Well, I aimed and it walloped one of the boys right above one of his eyes, he had a really pretty goose egg. Well, the boys talked to my parents and my parents made me go over and apologize. Well, the words game out, but I did not mean any of the words that were said. I had apologized, I had asked for forgiveness, but my heart felt no mercy what so ever and in fact I was inwardly proud of the damage I had done. After all these boys were three to four years older than us and I had gotten the winning blow. Now that I’m older I chuckle at my young rebellious heart and now while I still think he got what was coming, I am sorry it caused so much pain and now I truly am sorry.
But, there are other offenses that have happened to me. I have mentioned n earlier posts about being abused as a young girl. I was eight years old and being abused by my Grandpa. A man who had also caused destruction in so many other people lives. I have spoken forgiveness over and over and over. But, what my heart gets stuck on is mercy and compassion. I some how cannot get to the point were I look at my grandpa in love and mercy. I want to, I try to, and yet in all honestly I cannot make myself have mercy on a man who does not deserve it.
There are things in Mark and I’s marriage that have come up and while I have forgiven him, he has forgiven me, and we have moved on, I still struggle to find my mercy and compassionate glasses. I have prayed and asked God to give me a heart of mercy.
I can’t force myself, that just leads to guilt and depression, because I can not muster it up on my own. Which means I am attempting to play God by changing my heart. I can be willing, I can remain willing, but until God is ready to move in my heart all I can do is be patient and continue to wait until the moment God is ready to go deeper in my life and heart. I trust God to know when he thinks I can handle something, especially something emotional that could rock my world and I wouldn’t be ready for it.
So, I wait. I wait for the mercy and compassion to come. I wait and pray for my Jesus glasses to fall over my heart. Maybe it’s another level of pain I need to deal with that I’m not wanting to acknowledge. Acknowledging that I will never have closer in my life that I need and want. Maybe it’s going deeper in my grief to let the mercy be able to surface.
I don’t know what it will take or how God will bring the victory, but rest assured God is not finished with me yet! I press on towards the goal with patience to let God do the healing surgeon work that needs to be done on my heart.