“If I were to reflect God’s mercy more fully, who among those I know would I show special care for this week?”

It’s a question that both unsettles and awakens me.

Wayne Grudem defines God’s mercy as “God’s goodness toward those in misery and distress.” Not just kindness in general—but goodness toward suffering. A particular tenderness that bends low to lift the burdened. A holy compassion that sees pain and moves toward it.

Mercy is not passive pity. It’s movement. Intention. Engagement. It is God’s heart stooping to meet us in our weakness, not with condemnation, but with comfort.

And if we’re being honest, that’s not always the heart we carry into our own weeks.

We’re busy. We’re hurt ourselves. We’ve been disappointed or overlooked. We’ve grown calloused, even unintentionally, to the silent aching in the people around us.

But mercy invites us back. Not to hustle, but to presence. Not to rescue, but to care.

So again, I ask myself—and I invite you to join me in asking:

If I were to reflect God’s mercy more fully, who would receive my special care this week?

Maybe it’s the single mom at church whose eyes don’t shine like they used to.

Maybe it’s the coworker whose jokes are getting darker—humor covering hurt.

Maybe it’s your own spouse, your child, or your aging parent. Not someone far away, but someone close—and maybe a little forgotten.

Maybe—if you’re brave enough—it’s the person you’ve grown bitter toward. The one who doesn’t deserve your kindness. And yet, mercy isn’t about deserving. It never has been.

Maybe it’s you.

Sometimes the most radical act of reflecting God’s mercy is extending it inward—to the parts of yourself that are still aching, afraid, or ashamed. Mercy toward your own soul is not selfish. It’s sacred.

This week, I’m praying for eyes to see as God sees: To recognize distress where it’s hidden. To offer gentleness where it’s needed. To embody mercy—not as an abstract virtue, but as a way of walking through the world.

Because mercy isn’t just something we receive from God. It’s something we’re called to reflect.

So—who comes to mind for you?

And what might it look like to show them special care this week?