To the merciful you show yourself merciful.
At an early age, I came to understand that receiving mercy was
how I learned about giving mercy.
My Grandma June
showed mercy to me when I was a kid. I was picked on by cousins when I was at her house. One day, I suffered dark pinch
marks on my arms. When I got away from my cousin Norm, I ran crying to my grandma who quickly and thoroughly shut him down. "I'll take a switch to you, Norman Douglas!"
Grandma never seemed all that compassionate on the exterior.
She would respond gruffly. She was hardened by a hard life. But when I needed
someone to protect me, she did. When I needed someone to stand up for me
because of injustice, she came to my rescue. She tore into bullies for me. She
realized the importance of having an advocate. If I had been left alone to
fight my own battles with unfair odds, I may not have come to believe in the
good of man or God. If no one had come through for me, I would not have
experienced mercy in the form of justice.
Up to that point, I had questioned whether I was worth pursuing.
Grandma showed me that I was valued enough to be rescued. I was worth a battle.
I suddenly saw myself as legitimate. I was instantly
redefined as important that day. She was an early representative to me of Jesus
my Savior.
