Morning Person

​So far, there’s nothing terrible about two.

These past few weeks have been filled with leaves, pumpkins, belly-laughs, and big brown eyes.

This life I lead is better than I deserve.

They say that’s what mercy is.

Compassionate treatment of a person greater than what is deserved.

I saw mercy a few days ago.

Hank loves Grandpa Dave.

To Hank Grandpa is motorcycles and piles of leaves and Rhino rides and wrestling.

I hope that Hank will remember he is mercy too.

Grandpa Dave went outside to put air in the car tires.

Hank came along too, in awe.

He watched Grandpa fill up the first tire, attaching a hose to the valve stem.

Hank followed him to the next two tires shouting “Pump it up! Pump it up!”

On the last tire Grandpa waved him over.

He got down close to Hank,

No easy feat when you are over 6 feet tall.

He looked him right in his eyes and said, “Here, hold this”.

He handed Hank the tiny black cap for the air valve from the last tire.

Hank cradled it with wonder, understanding he had an important job.

Hank is two.

And two years isn’t long to have with your hands.

Somewhere in the moment between Grandpa turning towards the tire and back to Hank, the tiny cap was gone.

It was an accident.

It was inconvenient.

It was the last tire.

Grandpa Dave didn’t say a thing.

He did not complain or moan or groan.

I tried to apologize for the tiny toddler mistake, but he brushed it off.

“I’ll get one off the motorcycle” he said.

Hank missed it.

I didn’t.

Mercy.

There was no punishment or scolding or requests for apology.

There was no reprimand or even judgement.

Just a grandpa.

Just a little boy.

Just mercy.

I love hearing Jake talk about his dad.

He says that Dave has learned something it takes most a lifetime to understand.

Character is about how you treat someone who can’t do anything for you in return.

It’s about mercy.

It’s about not letting a problem to be solved become more important than a person to be loved.

Jesus Christ is mercy.

We call the place where He sits the “Mercy Seat”.

That phrase heralds back to the Old Testament days of travelling tabernacles.

The Ark of the Covenant, an ancient part of the tabernacle, was a beautiful seat designed for the Savior to sit when the priest entered the Holy of Holies to offer sacrifice.

That sacrifice represented all the mistakes and shortcomings of all the people.

They brought them to the mercy seat.

All their lost caps and failed important jobs.

And those mistakes were safe with Him.

On His Mercy Seat.

I never noticed how many tires there are in my little life.

Car tires, stroller tires, motorcycle tires, bike tires.

I notice now because Hank pumps them all up.

He pretends to fill up each one with air and finishes with a

“Thank you, Grandpa Dave”.

Thank you, Grandpa Dave.

And thank you, Jesus.

For the mercy.

The prophet Jeremiah said,

It is of the Lord’s mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not.

They are new every morning.

We can never use Him up

Or wear Him out.

His compassion,

His mercy,

Is new.

Every morning.

I’ve always been a morning person.
​
A happy one even.