The jazz is playing in the background, almost too loud for this quiet afternoon. I can hear the soft voice of Sweet Pea chattering instead of sleeping. My husband asks a question. I am studying, reading source material, cut and pasting what I think may be useful then an unexpected phrase stops me.
Not “walk with Me”, words He spoke to Abram in Genesis 17, the main topic of the selection. Not the litany of what had been done right or wrong by Abram or by man since then. No. The words…I have forgotten my Shepherd’s presence shouted at me of the page!
Exactly. I have forgotten my Shepherd’s presence.
I have forgotten Coram Deo. Living in His Presence.
Ouch. No, that is too common, too easy a response implying just a band-aid is needed and all will be fine.
Instead, my response should be Mercy! It is Mercy!
The cry for mercy before a Holy God who has promised His presence is all I could think off. I have taken His Presence for granted. Mercy!
Mercy! Like the old-fashioned language of “I have forgotten my Shepherd’s Presence”, women and men of old, at least in the south, would say “Mercy!” Loud or soft and always when there has been a wrong done to or by. Mercy. What a wonder of a word! Sometimes when someone did something just plain stupid. With a shake of the head, Mercy!
You are forgiving and good, O Lord, abounding in love to all who call to you. Hear my prayer, O LORD; listen to my cry for mercy. Psalm 86:5-6