Capacity

Saturday in the First Week of Lent

I would hasten to escape

from the stormy wind and tempest.

Psalm 55:9

As I gaze across the wet, grey horizon, the unexpected chirp of a bird pulls my focus close. I wait, holding my breath, listening intently; it is gone. Farther off I hear the rough cry of a crow and then that too dissipates into the fog. We all await the storm to come.

Somehow along the way, through my many treks through the wilderness, I have become capable of standing firm in the face of a tempest. Neither flight nor fight—rather trust. Or at least the ability to remember with one part of my brain that God is merciful. I have been overwhelmed—by grief, horror, inadequacy. I have exhausted my reserves of compassion and coping. And God has brought me safely through.

A bit battered, perhaps. In need of healing, often. Nevertheless, saved.

I hold fast to these remembered experiences. That trusting in God’s love for me keeps the enemy at bay. And as I accept God’s mercy, my own capacity to be merciful expands.

Image by Annie Spratt from Pixabay