Mercy /ˈmərsē /: compassion or forgiveness shown toward someone whom it is within one’s power
to punish or harm.
Mercy. A new understanding of this word hit me between the eyes a couple months ago when I had to
visit a friend at the Ottawa County Jail for the first time. You see, this isn’t just a friend; she’s one of my
oldest and closest friends. If you would have told me that she was going to commit this or any crime I
never would have believed it. I know this person as a wonderful person of strong faith. I have
witnessed that faith. I’ve been blessed by it, and blessed by her friendship. I was, and am, in shock.
After all, this was no “slap on the wrist” type of crime. Her crime is one was that follows a person
around for the rest of their life. It changes the lives of every person close to it, forcing them to carry
burdens they didn’t want or have to carry.
If you have seen the bags under my eyes lately you might know I am one of those feeling the weight of
that burden. It has caused a tremendous amount of pressure, sadness, and anger. The kind of anger
that causes you to say words you don’t normally say, anger that keeps you up at night, and anger that
silently says about a friend, “you deserve what’s coming to you.”
I picked her mom up and we drove out there. My friend had been there for about six months at this
point and I didn’t want to see her in that place. I did so mostly because her husband asked and her
mom needed a ride. Honestly, although I never once considered not standing by my friend, I had a hard
time sympathizing with what she chose to do and the kind of intense pain she has caused so many
people.
When we got to the jail, we chatted over the phone looking at my friend behind the glass. Even in that
situation, it was good to see her and I realized again how much I missed my friend. She was the Matron
of Honor in my wedding, my singing buddy in ministry, my confidant, and sister in Christ. And now there
she was, wearing an orange jumpsuit not as a fashion statement but as a criminal. Toward the end of
our conversation she mouthed something to me. I knew what she was trying to say…the sentencing
wasn’t looking good. It was likely she would be sentenced to at least ten years in prison. She asked me
if I could take her place for her son. To help him pick out his tie and shirt for homecoming and other
events, help find flowers to match his girlfriend’s dress, to be there for those big events and love him in
her place. After we finished our conversation the buzzer rang, prompting everyone visiting to exit.
Ironically, there was a boy two stations down from us talking to his mother as she sat behind the glass.
When he hung up the phone the boy started sobbing uncontrollably. It was one of the saddest things
I’ve ever seen. I wanted that boy to have his Mom back. I thought of all the things he will miss with his
mom absent. The emotional scars, the feeling of shame because of poor choices. I thought of my
friend’s son as well. The same scars and shame because of sin and a mother’s selfishness. I wanted
that boy to know the love of God and prayed in that moment that God would not let what has happened
be the only thing to define this boy’s future. The scene hit my friend’s Mom hard as well. The sobbing
boy looked to be the same age as her grandson. We both broke down and for the ride home my friend’s
Mom cried. I drove silently as she wept and all I could think was “God have mercy on this situation;
have mercy on this poor woman sitting next to me. Have mercy on my friend’s husband, her son. And
yes, God, have mercy on my friend.”
My friend does not deserve forgiveness. Truly, none of us do. She doesn’t deserve freedom. She
committed the crime and deserves the punishment. I know this. But mercy tells me otherwise.
God has been showing me that mercy is the key to unlocking His goodness. Mercy is letting go of the
past for the sake of another’s future. It is cancelling a debt when that cancellation is undeserving and
sacrificial. It is trusting that when we give over everything to God, we release blessing in our own lives
and the lives of those who have hurt us. When we move beyond justice and choose mercy, we become
more like Christ an God’s power changes us and in turn changes others.
God has been teaching me much throughout this experience. He has revealed to me the ugliness of sin.
Not just the sin of others, but my own. For all have sinned and fall short of God’s glory (Romans 3:23).
How thankful I am for God’s mercy and forgiveness in my own life. When that same kindness is
extended to another, I believe the devil shudders and maybe even stands in awe of the power of God in
His people.
But when the kindness and love of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not because of righteous
things we had done, but because of his mercy. Titus 3:4-5
Wendy Huizinga
Music and Worship Director
