By: Harrison Davis
Isaiah 55: 1-9
Reflection—v. 2 ‘Why do you spend… your labor for that which does not satisfy?’
When I am not at Mercy, I struggle. Waking up and catching MARTA to go down Ponce early enough to open up at 8 a.m. can be arduous, but even on the sleepiest of days, the journey sets clear goal-posts for me. The objective is clear: I am going to a place to work diligently to help to ease the burdens of our ministry for our pastors and hopefully make enough coffee to make sure we all tick-and-tock properly as a community. At the end of the day, I might be tired, but I will almost definitely feel restored by the love and grace that is so bountiful in Mercy. When the weekend arrives, however, my objective becomes muddled. Deprived of community without the structure that Mercy provides, I easily fall into old patterns of isolation and self-serving. I reject company and sink deep into morose frustration. In these moments, I can feel physically unwell: as if I choose death over life. By the end, my time of rest has somehow drained me, and I look longingly to Sunday morning, when I can immerse myself once again in a community that seeks healing together. In the midst of this sometimes vicious cycle, Isaiah’s words give hope. God knows my thoughts and ways; God asks why I labor for that which doesn’t satisfy. In the midst of my brokenness, I am in relationship with a God whose will for me is not just life, but abundant life. When I am mired in the stubborn patterns of my life, God promises me that there is another way—a more perfect way, a way that leads to the mercy and grace I so desperately yearn for.
Prayer: God, may we seek your way, ever and always.