“Lord have mercy”, the cry by so many when life seems to come at them hard. We cry to have it given to us, but are we willing to give/show mercy? How would we describe mercy? There are some words we grow into; mercy is one of them. Mercy in my mind is to not punish or judge, even when it’s deserved, but being compassionate and responding instead with grace and empathy. It’s a desire to offer healing to those that have offended you rather than inflicting harm. It’s not loud. It doesn’t shout for attention or demand recognition. Mercy stands quietly at the edge of many moments, waiting to be chosen. And more often than not, it is overlooked; for justice, for pride, or simply because we’ve been taught that strength must look like something harder or sharper. But I’ve come to see mercy as a deep kind of strength. It takes strength to care in a world that can be so harsh. It takes strength to respond with compassion when we are hurt. And it takes strength to see someone’s failure or flaw and still say: You are more than this.

Many think that showing mercy is weakness, that it’s about letting people get away with murder and letting them off the hook. Really, it’s about letting go of the hook altogether, refusing to trap others (or ourselves) in a single version of a story, especially when that version is written in shame or anger. It should instead be written in fairness. Mercy is not blind; it doesn’t ignore pain, and it doesn’t excuse harm. But it invites us to respond differently. It whispers that we can name the truth without being cruel. That we can hold each other accountable without losing sight of love. I’ve had to learn how to show mercy to others, but perhaps even more so, how to show it to myself. I have wrestled with perfectionism, with self-judgment, with the echo of old mistakes. I have replayed conversations long after they’ve ended, wishing I had handled them better. But mercy teaches me that I am not frozen in my worst moments; I am still growing, still becoming, and you are too.

Sometimes mercy looks like listening instead of reacting. Sometimes it’s offering a soft word when a harsh one is expected. Sometimes it’s giving someone, especially yourself included, permission to begin again. Mercy toward yourself is permission to be imperfect, to heal without shame, and to begin again. In the quiet corners of our lives, where no one else sees, mercy is often the thing that carries us through. It’s the friend who doesn’t keep score. The parent who forgives. The stranger who sees us in our mess and offers kindness anyway. Mercy doesn’t need applause. It just needs space to be practiced. So today, I’m choosing mercy. For the people I love. For the ones I struggle with. And for myself. Maybe especially for myself. And maybe, just maybe, that choice will change the way I move through the world.

Let me know your thoughts; I genuinely want to know, and I’m sure others do too. Feel free to comment 👍🏽, but if you’re not comfortable, reach out to me through any medium. I’d be thrilled if you could share something, anything, and let others know. 🙏🏽 Your comments help me understand your perspective and often present a completely different view on the topic. They could even inspire another blog. 😉 And you never know how your comment might benefit others. Always remember, life is meant to be lived, and you should always strive to live your best life. #lifeisforliving #liveyourbestlife #gratefulforlife #faithgreaterthanfear

See you next Wednesday at 8:00 p.m., Bogotá time.