Justice and Mercy, Not Fasting

A Reflection Inspired by Zechariah 7:8–10 It was upon this particular morning, as the sun cast its first golden ribbons across the sky, that I found myself once again confronted by the quiet whisper of the Lord; a whisper that tugged gently at the frayed edges of my heart. “Tell them to be honest and fair… to be merciful and kind… to stop plotting evil against each other.” So the prophet Zechariah declared, and so the Lord speaks still. How peculiar, that such a simple command should weigh so heavily upon a soul. And yet, here I stand; a woman who has lived long enough to know that forgiveness is far less a single act, and far more a continual yielding. I forgive… until I see the person. Then my throat tightens, my thoughts bristle, and resentment that unwelcome guest, returns to its familiar seat. Indeed, dear reader, I often find myself biting my tongue with the determination of a duchess maintaining her dignity at a most disagreeable ball. For within me there is a fierce desire for justice, and yet a gentler, quieter call toward mercy. And oh, how these two dance sometimes gracefully, often not. I have long been reminded that I must not think evil of others, even when the temptation proves delicious. That I must believe the best of people, even when experience attempts to persuade me otherwise. But I have also discovered something quite extraordinary: when I choose “intentionally” to set my mind upon the Lord, the entire landscape of my day shifts. Colours grow warmer. Sharp edges soften. People seem less threatening, and more like the fragile, yearning souls they truly are. My heart’s deepest desire is this: to draw nearer to my Lord and my God. I do not wish to disappoint Him, nor pretend that I am capable of rewriting the past. No, the past remains as it is; a tapestry of failures, triumphs, regrets, and grace. What I can do is walk forward, one trembling step at a time, trusting that God still holds a future for me and yes, even now, in these seasoned years of my life. A Prayer Heavenly Father, Tonight I humbly ask that You, through Your Holy Spirit, will teach me what true justice looks like. Shape within me a heart capable of mercy, compassion, and quiet strength. Guard me from oppressing the widow, the fatherless, the stranger, or the poor, not only in deed, but even in thought. Silence the whispers of resentment that rise unbidden in my heart. Create in me, O Lord, a clean and steadfast spirit. Renew my mind, my heart, and my weary soul. Draw me closer to You, where forgiveness becomes possible, and peace becomes real. In the holy name of Jesus Christ, Amen.