As I turned the corner on our street to leave our neighborhood, my mind took a walk down Memory Lane. I remember feeling humiliated as a child by the used cars my family owned. One was a blue Chevrolet that was older than I was. There was nothing aesthetically appealing about it, yet it worked and transported us where we needed to go. I’m pretty sure my parents paid cash for it, a decision that was wise financially, but wouldn’t have made sense to a child who wanted to ride around in something nicer.
Turning onto the main road, I considered how my perspective had changed since becoming a parent. We drive a 2012 Toyota Sienna minivan. There is nothing necessarily cool about it (well, it does have Bluetooth capabilities). It still has hail damage on the windshield from that storm back in 2021 and the hood is still dented from when it was hit while I drove myself and my kids home from a play date.
Those are just exterior issues, but the interior also leaves much to be desired. We often refer to the van as a trash can on wheels because our kids have destroyed it. I couldn’t help laughing as my husband was pleased when a passenger puked and the stain blended in so well due to preexisting ones.
Initial appearances may make some pity us, but I can’t help feeling rich knowing that our van was a gift. When we were newlyweds with a newborn, the air conditioner on our used Honda Civic went out and it would’ve cost more than the car was worth to fix it. My parents generously gifted us the van. It was helpful to them for a season but they no longer needed it. What kindness. What mercy.
When I think back to that season I remember feeling trapped by fear of the future. I didn’t know how we would ever afford a new vehicle, but God did. I feed on His faithfulness now as we plan to take a road trip in the van. My anxious heart wants to prepare for the worst so I can alleviate the stings that come with it.
I’ve come to expect a life free of pain and hardship often forgetting that all who desire to life a godly life in Christ Jesus will be persecuted (2 Timothy 3:12). Persecution takes different forms and we’ve experienced our fair share in a decade of marriage. My heart has throbbed through trials wondering why God allows evil to happen. Recently, however, a reversal has taken root. Rather than pondering why God allows evil to happen, I’ve started to wonder why we so often choose it. In a broken world, things often go wrong. But because God is merciful, I’ve observed that they also go very right. I just haven’t had eyes to see it.
Continuing down the main road, we made our way to a new playground. We, as in, me and my three living children. “Maybe it’s mercy,” I think to myself. I’m in a season I once desperately prayed for. As I consider the baby I miscarried I think, “Maybe that’s mercy, too.” The ability to carry that life inside of me, even for a short time, feels like an incredible gift. I can’t believe God chose me to be the mother of a baby that’s now with Him. My baby is with HIM! Is there any greater joy for a parent than to have their child be with Jesus for all eternity? Maybe, just maybe, it’s mercy.
We arrived at the park and approached the playground. My kids played together (mostly) well while I walked laps. My kids are healthy and I am too. Maybe it’s mercy. My vision isn’t great but I have glasses that help me view the wonderful world God’s created. Maybe it’s mercy. After temporarily losing my senses of taste and smell, I’ve a deeper appreciation for God’s gift of senses. Eyes to see my children. Ears to hear their sweet singing and the deep questions they ask about God. Even their sibling squabbles give glimpses of grace as I have the ability to hear and see them. Can even those be mercy?
We headed home and turned onto our tree lined street. HOME. To a house we never expected to own but God entrusted to us anyway. Maybe it’s mercy. How many days have I awakened, frantic and fearful, wondering how needs would be met failing to realize God’s faithfulness?
A roof over my head, food in my fridge, clean water to drink, kind neighbors, clothes to wear. Material provisions that point to my Provider. Maybe this is mercy. An eternal home (Hebrews 13:14), the bread of life (John 6:35), living water (John 7:38), a spiritual family (Mark 3:35), robes of righteousness (Isaiah 61:10).
Having the record of my sin expunged and possessing the righteousness of Christ, God now sees me as perfect because of Jesus. His Holy Spirit helps me love and obey Him and prays for me when I don’t even know how to pray for myself (Romans 8:26). Maybe, just maybe, it’s all mercy.
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