The Theology of Small Mercies

Lamentations is a strange book to draw a comfort from. It was written in the rubble of Jerusalem, after the city had fallen, the temple had burned, and the people had been carried into exile. And yet, in the middle of it, there is this: 'Because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.'

The mercies are new every morning. Not warmed-over. Not last week's mercies stretched thin. Fresh. The bread of yesterday will not feed you today, and you do not need it to. The God who fed Elijah under the broom tree feeds you again at sunrise, and the manna is enough for the day.

If you woke with last night's grief still in your chest, look for today's mercy. It will be small. It will look ordinary. It will be enough.

The pattern is older than we are. The grace is older than the pattern. We come to it not as students at the head of the class but as children at the foot of a long table, where the meal has been ready for a while and the chair has always been waiting for us. Sit. Receive what has already been given. The day will be longer than you think, and the bread will be enough.