Mercies New

I woke up today with a Scripture verse on my heart. "His mercies are new every morning." I wasn't sure exactly where this verse is found in the Bible, so I looked it up.

Lamentations.

Really? Lamentations?!

Lamentations is a book filled with sorrow, weeping... mourning the siege of Jerusalem, the destruction of the Temple, and the exile of God's people to Babylon. Yet, almost smack-dab in the middle of all this despair is a message of hope.

"His mercies are new every morning."

I love the way God often speaks quietly to my heart. The Spirit whispers words I desire to hear even when I'm not aware of the need to listen. Today was one of those times.

This past year has been one for the books, hasn't it ?! There has been much despair on this front as well. Though we've not been exiled to a foreign country, deprived of our homeland, in many cases, fear and worry have turned our homes into voluntary places of captivity, nearly paralyzing us. We too have mourned the loss and destruction of so many things. Church is different. School is different. Work is different. Gathering is different. Yet, here, smack-dab in the midst of all that uncertainty, is that same message of hope.

"His mercies are new every morning."

I was thinking about new beginnings, about how much we love pristine pages in our journals and calendars. They are so full of possibility, so full of hope. After every December thirty-first comes a first of January.

"First."

That word is so promising. There's nothing inherently different between the twenty-four hour period of the new year and the old really, except for the fireworks and a renewed sense of... well, hope... hope that things will be different, better, healthier, happier.

This past week I've been taking down the remaining remnants of our Christmas decorations. I haven't been in any rush to tuck them away. I've moved slowly, intentionally, from one thing to the next, saving the manger on the piano and the star outside for last. We celebrate each season as it comes with joy and excitement, but all-too-soon the time comes to move on to the next thing, so we carefully wrap, box, and put away our treasures, wondering what the season will hold when it comes around again... which subtle variations will be present to change the landscape of our celebration.

There is a very interesting juxtaposition between the forward motion of life and its repetition. Days and years trek on with steady regularity, dragging us along for the ride whether we're willing participants or not. At the same time, however, life repeats in the most enchanting ways. Soft sunrises turn into fiery sunsets, every. single. day. Trees left bare after carpeting the ground in reds and golds will soon break into neon greens of spring. The ebb and flow of the tide, the waxing and waning of the moon repeat on auto as dependably as a heartbeat and remind us that God is always in control. His mercy never fails, no matter the circumstance.

The image of this juxtaposition, this side-by-side comparison, that comes to mind is of handwriting class in third grade. Before we were ever allowed to scroll the letters of the alphabet, we were made to practice, ad-nauseum, those tedious exercises of upward and downward strokes and circles upon circles moving across the page. There was repetition, but there was also forward motion.

It hit me this week that life is a lot like those handwriting exercises. There are ups and downs. There are moments of triumph and there are times of tragedy. There are also seasons, seasons of youth, of marriage, of raising children, of becoming empty-nesters, of old age. Each of these ups and downs, each of these seasons adds to and shapes the fabric of our lives.

God gives us the forward momentum, because He desires nothing more than for us to be together one day in the kind of face to face relationship He planned for us from the beginning, but He also gives us repetition, reiteration, and echoes of everyday brilliance to color our days.

Because of sin, the world isn't always a hospitable place. Disobedience brings consequences. Life can be hard. Words and phrases like "pandemic" and "civil unrest" have become staples in our vocabulary. I don't think I've ever been so eager to throw out the old calendar and welcome in a new year.

New year... new hope.

I don't have to wait for a new year, however, to have new hope. God has built it into every day. Each morning there is a new sunrise. No matter what the past day, month, season, or year has brought, no matter how much I've messed up, each day is a brand new gift, a pristine page waiting to be filled. It's like God has this giant Etch-a-Sketch that He hands me every morning. Some days brilliance happens, and the picture is glorious. Other days the lines are tangled in a colossal mess. Every night, I hand the gadget over to Him, and with one shake, one swipe, I'm forgiven. The slate is pristine and ready to be written on again.

Some seasons ARE brilliant and joy abounds. Other seasons are lamentations and hardships rule. Yet, smack-dab in the middle of all of it, the joy, the sorrow, the failure, the success, the tragedy, the triumph, the loss, the gain... there is a message of hope that rings loud and clear. It's one that we can depend on as surely as the sun rises and the tide rolls in...

"His mercies are new every morning." Amen and Amen.

"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 3:22-23