When Mercy Found Me!

Have you ever needed help, but not just any help, the kind that reaches you when you have nothing to offer in return? The kind of help you didn’t earn, couldn’t demand, and perhaps weren’t even sure you deserved? That’s mercy. And once you’ve encountered it, it marks you for life.

Mercy isn’t loud. It’s not showy. It often comes quietly, like a breath after drowning, or a light flickering on when everything felt dark. It doesn’t wait for you to be perfect. It shows up because God chooses to love you anyway.

I learned this not in a sermon or a song, but in the rawest moment of my life; wueh!

Life can be moving at its usual pace; plans in motion, responsibilities piling up, ministry commitments holding steady and you think you have a handle on everything. But out of nowhere, the ground beneath you begins to shake. What you had spent years building; your reputation, your rhythm, your sense of spiritual strength begins to seemingly crumble.

In such moments, you can’t rely on your resume, you can’t point to your good deeds. Many a time, you can’t even explain what is happening in words that would make sense. In such moments, what’s on your mind is this: “If God doesn’t come through for me right now, I’m finished.”

And that, right there, is where mercy finds you.

Not when you are strong. Not when you have it all together. But when you are weak, exposed, and painfully aware of how little you can offer. Such moments don’t just shift your circumstances, they transform your understanding of God, your salvation, your ministry, and how you navigate daily life.

Looking back, I now see that mercy is truly the very door through which salvation enters. It’s not a bonus or a comfort, it’s the reason we’re even here. Titus 3:5 says, “He saved us, not because of righteous things we had done, but because of His mercy.” We don’t begin our journey with God because we finally got our act together. We begin because He had compassion on us while we were still sinners.

That day, in my moment, as I cried out for help, I wasn’t praying like someone trying to earn salvation. I was praying like someone who needed to be saved again. And in a sense, I was rescued not from sin for the first time, but from despair, shame, and the subtle pride that creeps in when you start relying more on yourself than on grace.

I’ve served in ministry long enough to know that it’s easy to think God uses you because of your strength, your discipline, or your faithfulness. But in the moments when I was in despair and He still covered me… when I doubted, and He still defended me… I realized something essential: ministry is not a reward for good performance. It’s a stewardship of mercy. Mahhnn!!!

1 Timothy 1:12–16 suddenly made more sense: Paul said, “I was shown mercy so that in me, the worst of sinners, Christ Jesus might display His immense patience…” Ministry is not about showing people how good we are. It’s about showing them how merciful God is.

It’s an honor that the same God who rescued me in salvation continues to carry me in ministry, not because I always get it right, but because He is always full of mercy. Every sermon, every decision, every act of service is built not on my merit but His compassion.

But here’s the part that hits me hardest: we don’t graduate from mercy in daily life.

Even after salvation, even after being trusted with ministry, even after seeing God move, I still wake up some days feeling overwhelmed, scared, or weary. But Lamentations 3:22–23 whispers a quiet truth that steadies me: “Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed… His mercies are new every morning.” Every morning!

That means even when I fail quietly, He gives mercy. When I snap, He gives mercy. When I feel unseen, stretched thin, or unworthy, He gives mercy. Mercy is not just what rescued me once, it’s what keeps rescuing me every day.

When mercy finds you, it doesn’t just clean up your mess. It gives you a new way to live. It rewrites your story.

You stop trying to perform for God and start walking with Him. You stop disqualifying yourself and start partnering with Him. You stop fearing failure and start leaning into the daily grace He provides. Mercy doesn’t just change your moment. It changes your story.

And here I am, a living testimony. I should have been written off. I should have been disqualified. But mercy said, “I’m not done with you yet.”

So maybe you’re there now worn out by life, burdened by sin, or quietly disillusioned in your walk with God. Maybe you’re showing up in ministry but feeling empty behind the scenes. Or maybe no one else knows, but you do, you’re barely holding on. Friend, let go of the performance. Stop striving and cry out for mercy.

When you do, you won’t find a God with folded arms and a list of where you failed.
You’ll find a Father arms wide open saying, “Come. I still choose you.”

When mercy finds you, it doesn’t just rescue you, it rebuilds you.
And when that mercy takes hold, your life, your story, and your ministry will never be the same again. Receive God’s mercy today!

Stay Blessed,

#WiGTyT.