The cry of the abandoned rises even from the wilderness, and it is not unheard. You have felt the sting of that word, forsaken, and have seen the little ones cast away before they could draw breath. It is a dark tangle of sin and sorrow, and the heart aches under it. Yet there is a well of mercy in the desert for those who sit down in despair.
Consider Hagar: she fled from cruelty and sat by a fountain, alone, her child perishing. There was no word from heaven during all her time in Abraham’s tent, but in the scorching sand, the Angel of the Lord called her by name. So it often is. Mercy does not always come when we are at ease, but in the sharp affliction, when earthly props are gone, God draws near. He chooses singular seasons, the hour when you are most broken, most aware that no human shelter remains. Then the question comes: “What ails you? From where have you come?” And you are given to see that the God of mercy has been watching your way.
You cite the promise: “When my father and mother forsake me, then the Lord will take me up.” This is a true word, and it stands firm for the abandoned child and for the mother without a helper. His tenderness surpasses even that of a nursing woman. Can she forget her sucking child? Yet some do, but the Lord never forgets. He engraves His own upon the palms of His hands. And what of those unborn, cut off by violence? We dare not presume to limit the mercy of the Most High. He who formed them in secret and knows every soul from eternity will do right. Entrust them to Him; the Judge of all the earth must act justly, and His mercy is over all His works. But see to it that you do not let a false hope tempt you to sin further. There is a mercy that passes over transgression only through the blood of the appointed Sacrifice. Without that, we trifle with the Judge.
There is a false hope in God’s mercy that wraps men in a deadly slumber. They hear that He is gracious and think they may cling to their sins and yet be spared. But true mercy never leaves a man unchanged. The first work of mercy is to turn your face in the opposite direction, to give you new loves and new hatreds. If you have not been born again, what have you to do with mercy? It is not a cushion for the impenitent. It is a molten sea in which old lusts are drowned.
Yet for the soul that feels its deep need, that knows itself guilty, deserted, with no claim but naked want, there is a certain hope. It is mercy indeed when you own that you deserve none. If you come with nothing, God’s mercy comes to you before you stir. Have you not found it so? While you were yet speaking, He heard. While your heart was too hard to weep, His preventing love softened it.
Behold the City of Refuge! The manslayer might run from the avenger, footsore and gasping, and the gates were open before him. So Christ stands ready. Every signpost of the law points “Refuge! Refuge!” for the guilty. Flee to Him. He is the Messenger and the Message, the one Interpreter who can make you feel and know the way of salvation. He came to seek and to save the lost, Zacchaeus the outcast, the woman at the well, all those whom society shut out, mercy drew in. When human doors close, the door of mercy stands wide.
You cry out over ancient blood-guilt and aborted generations, as if the sin of parents must consume the line. But mercy has a loophole: God looks upon the race as one, and in Adam we all fell; but He has provided a second Adam, and in Him a new seed is born. The sword of justice rattles in its sheath, but Mercy herself presses it back, saying, “Sleep, O sword, sleep; for I will have mercy upon sinners, and will forgive their transgressions.” The only ground for this is the sacrifice of the Son. God’s tenderness has made ample provision: no payment is asked of you, no fitness but misery. Come, then, with the dry bottle that holds no tears, He will fill it. Come with the confession that you are an absolute bankrupt, and He will enrich you.
Do not think you must feel your need aright before you approach. That is to look to your own heart rather than to the throne. It is the God of mercy who goes before. He is not waiting for you to cleanse yourself, but while you are without strength, Christ died. The errand of mercy is for the woe-begone, the social leper, the self-condemned. Only take heed that you do not add to your guilt by neglecting so great a salvation. The barren tree stands today because mercy pleads, “Spare it yet this year.” But the axe is ready. How long have you heard the wooing voice and remained fruitless? Yet if today you hear His voice, harden not your heart. The gates are not shut. The silver trumpet sounds “Refuge” still. Flee, sinner, flee; lay hold upon the hope set before you, and you shall find that God’s tender mercy has made you new.
Prayer Focus: God, Thank You for loving me. Thank You for loving me, Jesus. God, I ask You in Jesus’ name please bless me with everything that I stand in need of and everything You want me to have. 
