bless the merciful.

We have different gifts, according to the grace given to each of us. If your gift is prophesying, then prophesy in accordance with your faith; if it is serving, then serve; if it is teaching, then teach; if it is to encourage, then give encouragement; if it is giving, then give generously; if it is to lead, do it diligently; if it is to show mercy, do it cheerfully. Romans 12:-6-8

My junior high Bible teacher was amazing. I loved her. Still do, actually. She taught me more about grace and about boldness and about freedom in those two years than anyone ever before. Her classroom was inviting, safe, and always smelled good; I spent most days lunching on her corner couches. She was a rather unconventional teacher, focusing on heart and relationship much more than curriculum or agendas. 

We did a spiritual gifts unit one quarter. We came in the classroom, and she handed us a packet of questions to answer. You know the drill. I remember so vividly doing my best to pick answers that would lend a particular result: Leader. Evangelical culture values the hero, celebrates the leader, praises the head of the pack. In our weird little hierarchy of heroes, clearly the most spiritual among us would be the leaders, right? After repeated (and I mean repeated) multiple choice testings, my own results always came out NOT leadership. Of course. 

I was less than thrilled to say the least. 

So, the last several years have been an intentional pursuit of what it means to walk in my giftings, to represent Christ in the best possible way. 

Part of that journey has been a parallel intentionality to discover and appreciate the gifts of those around me. I am surrounded by helpers, encouragers, teachers and leaders. I am overwhelmed by others' wisdom and faith, and have been blessed time and time again by the givers. I'm grateful. 

But today, I'd like to say thank you to the Mercy people. To those of you that have been given such a sweet, yet often looked-over gift.

Bless the merciful. Those who refrain from giving us what we deserve.

Bless the hospital chaplains who cry and pray in trauma rooms with the scared and the hurting. Bless the elderly woman who folds the young mother's laundry. Bless the cookie bakers and the smoothie makers who deliver to the lonely or forgotten. Bless the father who scrapes puke up off the floor only after he's gently washes and dressed and comforted the sick child. 

Bless the ones who cry too much and feel too much. Bless the wounded healers. 

Bless the kind ones, who speak words of life and gentleness. Bless the benefit-of-the-doubt givers, the one-more-chance lavishers. Bless the holders and the kleenex-passers. Bless the walkers-in-another-shoes. Bless the wheelchair pushers. Bless the ones there waiting after the chips fall, and the edifice crumbles, and the truth comes out. Bless them for their grace for both the flyers and thud-ere, for the fury and for the glory. 

Bless the ones who pardon the unforgivable, and bandage wounds. Bless them for the dignity they somehow give the rest of us. Bless them for seeing us, and loving us anyway. 

Bless them for standing in our thin places between too-much and not-enough, the places where our hearts are breaking and our fears are manifesting and we are scared and alone. Bless them for showing up in the fault lines to hold our hands and pray. 

Bless them for weeping with those who weep. 

Bless them for their patience, for their supernatural ability to stop rolling their eyes, for their ability to be present. Bless them for their joy in the face of suffering, and their faith in our always-changing story. 

Bless them for their heart to smooth the edges and widen the roads. Bless them for their cups of cold water, their hot plates of food. Bless them for their prison visiting, their preemie-baby hat knitting, their nursery rocking so tired mommas can worship in community. Bless them when they smell of salty tears. 

Bless the merciful as they carry our own burdens with us, and we cannot know how low they are bowed with the grief of the whole world groaning for justice and peace. Bless the ones who love without fanfare or book deals or conference attention. Bless the ones running toward the hurting, instead of running away like the rest of us. 

Bless them because it takes more gut to be merciful, compassionate and kind than we could have ever imagined. 

Bless you, merciful ones. 

and dear Jesus, give me a more merciful heart.