New Every Morning

Some mornings arrive like a bill. You open your eyes and the list is already waiting: the unanswered message, the work undone, the person you meant to call. Before your feet touch the floor, you are behind.

The book of Lamentations was written out of ruin. Its author watched a city fall and set the grief down in careful lines. Yet in the middle of the lament comes a sentence that turns toward light: "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."

Notice the timing. Not new once, long ago. New every morning. The mercy you were given yesterday is not the mercy meant for today. Today's has only just been made, and it is enough for today.

This is quiet news, but it is good news. It means you do not have to ration grace as though the supply were running low. You woke to a fresh portion. You need not earn it before breakfast.

Jesus spoke to people who were tired in exactly this way. "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened," he said, "and I will give you rest." He did not ask them to be strong first. He asked them to come.

So begin again. The list will keep. Before you take up the day, take up the mercy that was waiting for you when you opened your eyes. It is new. It is yours. It will not fail.