The post header speaks for itself. But that makes for a rather short reflection, so I'll take a moment to answer to the question, "From whence did this thought arise?"
The short answer to the question is this: I can tell I am getting older. I can sense that I am growing weaker. And I am more aware, not uncoincidentally, of my need for mercy.
I once thought quickly. Quicker than most people. Now my sons can see that they think more quickly than I do on many topics. They aren't always respectful in the ways that plays out in our interactions. I find myself thinking, "I need to be more gentle. (Because I wish they'd be more gentle with me. And maybe it's not too late to give my sons a better example.)"
I never had great ears. I've always misunderstood what people are saying. But it's perhaps getting worse. I feel frail when family members are frustrated with my frequent requests to hear them repeat what they think they already said loudly enough.
I once drove with supreme confidence. But in recent months, I have noticed that I am making more driving errors. No accidents, thankfully, but I don't process three thoughts at once so well, anymore. I need to pay more attention on the road. My eyes are not young, anymore. I ruefully recall how many times in my life I have mocked elderly drivers for their caution and crawling pace. Ouch.
I could come up with more examples, but perhaps these suffice.
I've always needed mercy. It's just more obvious to me, now. And the more aware I become of my own need, the more I empathize with those who still need mercy from me—and the more I wish I had learned these traits when I was young, hot-blooded, and thirsty to conquer.
There is only one true conqueror, and his name is Jesus Christ. Lord have mercy. Christ have mercy.
