Shiny quarters and new mercies

Somehow, Mom always managed to pack everything needed for five children, Dad, herself, and two chihuahuas into the old blue Comet for a week’s vacation at her sister’s house in central Florida. Looking back, it’s surprising how happy we were to pile into the car and ride five hours to our destination, overcrowded without seat belts, radio, and air-conditioner. Nonetheless, those hot, humid July days seemed bearable at 55 miles per hour, and four windows rolled down.
Strange, we did not know we should have been miserable. We did not know about handheld entertainment systems of today, nor the need for seatbelt safety. We just knew that elbows in ribs and sweaty legs touching each other were all a part of heading to the cousins’ house for baseball games and trips to the lake.
Then, as quickly as it began, it was over. Mom, once again, managed to reload the car. After handshakes, hugs, and kisses, Dad drove away slowly. We kids were happier than when we arrived, thanks to Uncle Jack and the shiny new quarter he handed each of us – and the sack full of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches from Aunt Ann. Those simple sandwiches weren’t just food; they were love wrapped in wax paper, a small comfort that carried us through the long ride home. We all looked back for one more glance as we left. I can still see my brother lying on the shelf in the rear window, gazing at his quarter like it was a hidden treasure.
And just like that, we were home, hot, sweaty, and tired. Dad tended to the needs of the yard, while Mom unpacked, cooked dinner, and made us ready for bed. The whirlwind of vacation faded, and the steady rhythm of everyday life resumed. Our parents never missed a beat. Every day was a new beginning, a chance to carry on in the joys of life, even if the joy meant falling into the usual routine of work and raising a family.
I never really thought about how many things our parents juggled to keep us moving forward in life. They were always there, ready to leave any heartache of yesterday behind and begin again with a fresh start, life renewed with each new morning.
I see it now – what I missed back then: how they lived out the heart of Scripture. Lamentations 3:22-23 reminds us of the Father’s never-ending love and of mercies that meet us fresh each day. Our parents may not have quoted that verse out loud, but they lived it. Every morning, they started again – faithful, steady, full of love that didn’t run dry. And isn’t that just like God? Our Heavenly Father meets us not only on mountaintops and vacations, but also in laundry rooms, lunchboxes, and lawnmowers. His mercy meets us right in the middle of real life.
So today, let us release regret into mercy. Let us lay down the laundry of our yesterdays – those undone tasks, those hurried moments, the things we wish we’d done better – at the feet of Jesus, just like the woman who came with her tears and her worship. She didn’t bring perfection. She brought her heart. And He met her with compassion.
That same mercy is ours this morning. Whether we’re stepping into big plans or simply folding clothes and packing lunches, His love meets us in it all. Today, let’s love greatly, and begin again—held by a mercy that is always new.
Therefore, I tell you, her many sins have been forgiven – as her great love has shown. Luke 7:47.

Cheryl Mixon-Cruce is Pastor of Ochlockonee Bay United Methodist Church and Sopchoppy United Methodist Church.