mercies anew

The air was crisp, the streets quiet. That September morning held the tension of waving good-bye to summer and hello to fall. 

I passed the little neighborhood library stand, the home with the greenhouse, Emily’s home and all of her flowers. I walked and I inhaled, exhaled only one phrase: your mercy is new every morning.

Sometimes, when I do not know what to pray, I pray the Lord’s prayer. A kindness given by a God who knew we would not always have the words or the heart. But today I needed a more condensed reminder, a promise. 

When relationships with all of their glory and work & unmet desires & monotonous days & disappointments & continued hoping & waning patience & forced kindness fill me up to the brim I need this reminder and promise. I need to remember that in every season, in every farewell and in every greeting, in everything mercy arrives new. Steps up to the door & knocks, arms full of itself to give.