I am not perfect. I am actually far from any form of greatness. Growing up, I had honestly made many mistakes. Mistakes that my siblings and parents never seem to forget and would always make it a point to remind me of them. I had once thought this was cruel punishment. What happened to forgive and forget? Why must they press on healing wounds?
It is only recently, when it all made sense to me. Everything my family does is out of love. They weren’t pressing on wounds but rather, they were only reminding me why I was hurt, and they wished that I would not bring myself into the same situation. The amazing thing is that they know all my mistakes, my errors, and my flaws but even still, they have chosen to love me. They love me in more ways than I had understood at the time, and probably more than I do now.
So if I were to answer where I see mercy in my life, I simply have to say that I see it in my being. I am the product of the mercy from everyone important in my life, and for this I am truly grateful.