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Today at church after our prayer of confession, we sang “Christ have mercy, Lord have mercy,” just those words over and over. My younger son poked his elbow in my ribs and whispered, “Mom, are these really the only words in this song?”
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The Greek word for mercy has the same root as oil. Mercy isn’t only forgiveness instead of punishment, mercy is healing, soothing oil. Lord, have mercy, we pray, which means, Lord, soothe me, comfort me, take away my pain, and show me your steadfast love.
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What other words do we need?
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I don’t normally post on Sundays, but it’s the first day of spring, I have picked the first daffodils, and I’ve now slept with my bedroom window open two nights in a row. Those things don’t erase all that’s hard and heavy, but oh my goodness, how they help. Spring, you are God’s mercy.
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#fromdaffodilstodahlias #springcomestomaplehurst
I feel as if I am standing on the exact edge that divides winter from spring, old from new, dead from alive. 🌿 Gardeners are the most patient of thrill seekers. We hesitate to leave home, not because we are uninterested in drama or change, but because we can’t bear to miss a thing. And so much is always happening, even while the garden sleeps. 🌿
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#weareplacemakers #springcomestomaplehurst
I had been hoping green would follow brown, but I’ll take an interval of white.
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#throughtheseoldwindows #amaplehurstwinter

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