There is this grief, ever so slight – but growing, in me.  The grief of Lot. [“for by what he saw and heard that righteous man, while living among them, felt his righteous soul tormented day after day by their lawless deeds] –  It’s the first time I’ve ever really experienced it.  This “Lot grief.”  Maybe it comes with age or children, years of walking [often stumbling – crawling] with the Lord, or simply from this evil that larger and larger numbers are calling good – this darkness that seems to be spreading out and closing in, but I feel it nonetheless.  And my little flame keeps flickering and struggling to grab hold and feed off of the oxygen of His mercy and truth.

Mercy and truth.  That perfect combination.  Mercy is for people.  Truth is for His glory and holiness.  And so I take it in for myself – His mercy.  And I heed it – His truth.   And I feel my flame grow steady as I look out over this landscape and find myself having compassion for so many who are like sheep without a shepherd.

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