I've spent a good deal of my day thinking about the word 'mercy' and what it means to me. I've sat and thought about the amazing grace that is mercy and the hope that is mercy and the love that is mercy and the forgiveness that is mercy, and still, I can't seem to gather my thoughts and type words (even for five minutes) that would give mercy the credit that mercy deserves.
My life would be an endless hole of despair and doubt and every other bad and negative thing that your mind could imagine without mercy.
Mercy is second, third, fourth chances.
Mercy is hope when hope is seemingly impossible to be found.
Mercy is endless love, the kind of love that has no limits or expectations or doubt.
Mainly, mercy is completely and utterly undeserving, given freely and without expectations in receiving anything back.
Mercy may be one of the only true and selfless and love-filled action, thing, feeling, that exists in this world.
This is mercy to me and still, I feel as if I've let mercy down. When I think of the mercy that has been granted on my life, my soul, I am simply left speechless.