The Sweet Taste of Mercy When You Have Done Wrong

Tears streamed down her face as she came to me.  She had done wrong, and she knew it.  Not just wrong... doubly wrong.  The weight of her misdeeds crushed her spirit, and she sobbed.

How will she tell him what she has done? How will he ever trust her again?

Pleadingly, she looked at me, "Can you tell him?" she implored. 

But I knew it could not be. I could not carry this burden for her. She must be the one to confess.

And so between her wails, she told her brother what she had done, and she waited. 

Waited in nervous apprehension of his judgement. She knew what she deserved and it scared her. He would be angry. He would gave her a most disapproving look that would send her cowering in shame. He would withdraw from her and withhold his friendship. She shuddered at the sheer thought of it as she waited.

I too waited, but as I waited, I prayed. 

I prayed for the one who had done wrong, and I prayed for me... for wisdom to remain calm and gently point them to God. But mostly I prayed for the brother offended, for this is the brother who often needed to be reminded to  'temper justice with mercy'... to tone down his interactions with others with a touch of compassion. So, I prayed for God to soften his heart.

Then came the judgement. He was angry... justifiably so. There was no outburst... but a quiet, seething indignation. In his mind, he had been wronged and he had the right to be upset. She would buy them back. It was as simple as that. She had broken what was his and she should replace it. 

But she was unable to do this because the cost was prohibitive. There was no way she could replace them. But as we all do when we find ourselves in these unnerving predicaments, she tried to right her wrong. 

"I'm really sorry!" she lamented as she offered her brother a list of services she would render. He could choose any three on the list and she would willingly and happily oblige in a desperate attempt to fix what was broken. She would do this for the next several weeks. She knew she could not easily and on her own replace her brother's property, but she could try to restore the damaged relationship between them. 

That simple, handwritten outpouring of her heart reminded me of me... of so many of us who try to repay.

We have done wrong... 

Against you, you only, have I sinned and done what is evil in your sight; so you are right in your verdict and justified when you judge. Psalm 51:4

and we desperately try to right our wrongs. 

Sometimes, we spend our whole lives trying to make right what we have done wrong. We willingly accept suffering... feelings of guilt and shame as if somehow deep down we believe that by paying one's dues we make up for past mistakes. We offer our best efforts hoping that they would help in some way to rectify our misdeeds.

"But they are still broken!" he insisted. 

"...all our righteous acts are like filthy rags; we all shrivel up like a leaf and like the wind our sins sweep us away." Isaiah 64:6

He was stating the obvious... nothing she could say or do could undo what had been done. His precious possession was still damaged. 

My son's curt response reminded me that there is nothing we can do to fix our sin problem. No way we can right our wrong. 

But once again, his stance was one of justice, but where was the mercy? 

Prayerfully, I shared with him a story. A story of mercy shown to him. For once he had damaged something too... something much more valuable... something he could not replace or pay for. And yet he had been forgiven of the offense and it had not being held against him. I reminded him of God's mercy towards us and invited him to share that mercy with his sister. 

He looked at her list and then nonchalantly laid it aside. 'They are still broken!" he said. But this time his tone was different... softer.

You do not delight in sacrifice, or I would bring it; you do not take pleasure in burnt offerings. My sacrifice, O God, is a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart you, God, you will not despise." Psalm 51:17 

And then quietly and subtly he did it.  He extended an olive branch. An offer of peace during times of strife... a gift of reconciliation... a restoration of sweet fellowship. 

The next day, sounds of merriment and laughter filled our home. My daughter was giddy with happiness. She could not believe her good fortune. She had done wrong... had agonized through the pain of confession... had expected his justifiable wrath, but had been blessed instead with an unexplained and unimaginable forgiveness and acceptance.  

I sat there in utter gratitude... thankful for the sweet rapport I was witnessing and amazed at how my God continues to reach me and teach me in the everyday circumstances of my life. 

You see, my God knew. 

He knows that I need to be reminded to temper justice with mercy. That I need to remember the mercy He has shown me. That I need to extend that same mercy to others. 

And just like that... through a child's mistake, my God had shown me once again what it was like to savor the sweet taste of mercy. 

My God is holy and just and merciful. And... oh so personal.

"Who am I? That the eyes that see my sin would look on me with love, and watch me rise again." Casting Crowns 

"These are the ones I look on with favor: those who are humble and contrite in spirit;  and who tremble at my word. Isaiah 66:2b

"If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness." 1 John 1:9 

"...whoever comes to me I will never drive away." John 6:37

What about you? 

Have you experienced the sweet taste of mercy? Or are you exhausted... trying hard to right your wrongs? 

There is a better way, my friend. 

Return to God, confess your sins, and you will 'hear joy and gladness'.  And as you relish fellowship restored, remember to share that gift with others. It's too undeservedly good to keep to ourselves. 

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Thanks so much visiting. 

Please be sure to check out 'The Grand Story' page, 

and enjoy this video of Lauren Daigle's 'How Can It Be'. 

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The Sweet Taste of Mercy When You Have Done Wrong