Ps 118:2-4, 13-15, 22-24
1 Pt 1:3-9
When did I start to believe in God's Mercy? If I told you that I was about four years old, would you believe me?
Some of you might remember those early comedians who delighted in pulling chairs from beneath people as they prepared to be seated. As a child, I both witnessed and laughed at that experience as I watched it on television.
Then the day arrived when I decided to mimic this perceived hilarity. But, of course, it wasn't funny, nor did my Dad (who already had a painful back) think it was either. Yes, I dared to pull the chair from beneath my father as he prepared to sit at the dinner table! He clearly was in terrible distress when he landed on the floor. And I KNEW that I had hurt him in and unbelievable manner. He also knew that I understood this on some immature level.
There was no need for him to scold me out loud. The pain in his eyes spoke it all. That he accepted my clearly contrite look without the need to demean or publicly punish me laid the foundation for my later deepening understanding of how regularly God accepts my weakness, foibles, and insensitivities. I know, too, that God would wish for me to emulate this same acceptance in my relationships with others.
Sister Frances Smalkowski, CSFN