REFLECTIONS

"Divine Mercy Sunday"

All I could think of when we entered the church that morning was the splintered cross. It could no longer remain simply a symbol - not after we'd seen the mercy within the agony. On that splintered cross carried by His beaten and bruised back, His palms were stretched open and pierced with nails. And even there - on Calvary - in sheer agony, there was tenderness. This is mercy. This is love.

My thought turned to His palms - spread open for me ­ and to my own, clenched tightly around sharp words, disappointments, and betrayals. Knowing I would keep account of all who hurt me, still He willingly opened His palms - for me, for mine.

There was a time when I would have chastised myself for not instantly lifting my palms heavenward, lesson learned, forgiveness freely given. But I know now His love is patient and tender, understanding my heart's need to linger on the lesson. Transformation takes time. So I sat there, wanting to release every finger from the accounting I carried, knowing I could not - not yet-except with His mercy.

And that is enough. Because He knows. And so I bowed low, hands trembling, knowing the words to come, and whispered: "Father, please, help us trust you."

Jennifer Hubbard, author of Finding Sanctuary, resides in Newtown, Connecticut. The younger of her two children, Catherine Violet, was a victim of the Sandy Hook Elementary School shooting.

Merciful Jesus,

On this blessed Sunday of Divine Mercy,

we come before You with humble hearts,

trusting in the ocean of love that flows from Your Sacred Heart.

You are our refuge in times of trial,

our hope in moments of despair,

and our joy in the midst of life’s storms.

Amen.