The Root of Mercy

I was tangled in dirt and roots. 
Yet you called, because you saw something more.
I brought you my bouquet, tattered and torn and much less than you deserved. 
My heart longed to please you, to offer you more than all I could give.

Through the darkness you whispered,
                 “Am I not a merciful Father?”
You reached through the roots that tangled and found this heart calling to you. 
You met me at my worst and never flinched at the sight of my humanness.
My mother’s tears hit the ground as you called me Home, but hope has been found in the root of mercy.

The One who has bore the weight of our sin, so that we could be freed from slavery.

The One who broke the chains that bound, so that we would no longer be prisoners. 

The One who has gone before us and conquered the grave, so that we would live.

The One whose love is anchored in the promise of the cross, so that even facing death we may find life without end. 

The testimony of His faithfulness.
The assurance of His love.
The knowing that He weeps as we weep.
The rejoicing of a life made whole, rescued, redeemed…
No longer tangled in the mess of this world,

                            But forever rooted by mercy.

Heather Mighells

September 20, 1979 - August 1, 2016

http://www.maukandyates.com/memsol.cgi?user_id=1835205

The Roots that Tangle

Our littlest fella recently got a new “big boy” bike and has anxiously been waiting for a trail ride.  The plan was to go to the bike trail so the kids could all ride and we could enjoy a walk together. 

But when you’re a parent, plans never go as planned. 

Once we started, the little guy spent more time jumping off and back on his bike than he did riding it.  This sweet boy always picks his mama flowers and a trail lined with wildflowers of all colors and kinds was perfect pickings that he couldn’t resist.  He would pedal so far, hit his brakes, jump off, pick a flower and bring it to mama, then hop back on and pedal some more, repeating the process for the entire ride.  Nearing the end of the ride, he was grinning ear to ear with a handful of daisies, dragging behind all of their roots and the dirt to go along. He proudly held out the bouquet to me and I gently pulled each delicate white flower away from the tangled roots.  When we got home I placed these beautiful little gifts in a vase on our windowsill. 

How thankful I am for our Father’s goodness and grace toward us.  We tend to be such a mess of a people, tangled up in the dirt and shallow roots of unrighteousness.  Those things that make us feel less-than beautiful, less-than worthy, stuck in the snare of shame and doubt.  Tangled roots of our past, our failures, and our sins.  Dirt that wants to keep us grounded on the sidelines and away from displaying the glory of God which we were created to do. 

We judge one another, we cast stones and look past planks of our own.  We cast off the beautiful when it’s the most in need of a Savior.  We disregard what could be, and magnify the mess of another. 

But thank God for His Loving ways… 

                                                who graciously receives His children when they return.  

“Have mercy on me, O God, according to your unfailing love; according to your great compassion blot out my transgressions.  Wash away my iniquity and cleanse me from my sin.”  Psalm 51:1-2

A Father who doesn’t flinch at the sight of our tangled roots, but gently removes them from our identity. 

One who takes what is and makes it a beautiful display for the glory of His Name. 

Most of all, a Father who never returns to what was left behind, who doesn’t look back or return us to those dirt bound places. 

“But sin didn’t, and doesn’t, have a change in competition with the aggressive forgiveness we call grace.  When it’s sin versus grace, grace wins hands down.  All sin can do is threaten us with death, and that’s the end of it.   Grace, because God is putting everything together again through the Messiah, invites us into life – a life that goes on and on and on, world without end.”  Romans 5:20-21 MSG