You who cry out from the depths of such sorrow, feeling the sting of abandonment, the horror of innocent blood, the desolation of having no shelter, hear what the Lord says to you this day. Your heart is breaking over the lost little ones, over families shattered, over souls forsaken. And you have rightly turned to the Scriptures: "Though my father and mother forsake me, the Lord will receive me." That is not only a promise for the orphaned child; it is a sure word for every soul that feels cast away. And what of the babe forgotten by its own mother? The Lord asks, "Can a woman forget her sucking child?" and though such a monstrous thing may happen, yet He declares, "I will not forget you." His memory is better than a mother's, His love more tenacious. Those unborn, aborted, miscarried, they have never seen the light of day, but they are not hidden from His sight. Entrust them to His tender mercy, for He gathers the lambs in His arms and carries them close to His heart. He who said, "Suffer the little children to come unto Me," has received them into everlasting habitations. Let that be your consolation.
But you speak also of those who walk the earth abandoned, without a friend, without a roof. You cry as a beggar for mercy, for shelter or even a madhouse. Such language tells me you have been brought very low. Yet this is often the very season when mercy draws near. Remember Hagar, the bondwoman. She fled into the wilderness, cast out, with no father, no mother, no brother to care for her. She sat by a well in the desert, all hope gone. And there the Angel of the Lord found her, called her by name, and asked, "Where have you come from? And where are you going?" It was a home question, a word of mercy precisely when all seemed lost. That same Messenger of the Covenant, Christ Jesus, comes to you in this hour. He knows the wilderness you are in, and He has not forgotten. The gates of society may be shut against you, but the gates of mercy are not shut. He came to seek and to save that which was lost, and He delights to show mercy to the outcast and the desolate.
You may well feel you have no claim upon His pity. That is the best place to be, clean divorced from every confidence except in mercy itself. Would you know a sound hope in the mercy of God? It begins when a soul feels its desperate need of mercy. You are that poor beggar, and I tell you God's mercy is for beggars. All His mercy is gratuitous; He never sells, He always gives. The tender mercy of our God has made great provision: He has given His own Son to be a sacrifice for sin. There, at the cross, mercy found the loophole it sought. Justice would have unsheathed the sword, but mercy put her hand upon the hilt and said, "Be still! I have found a ransom." Now, because of Jesus, God can be just and yet the justifier of the ungodly. Hide yourself under the wings of Christ; He will cover you with His feathers, and under His wings you shall trust. There is warmth, comfort, and repose even for the most forsaken heart.
Do not think that your prayers for mercy must wait until you are better prepared. Our God of mercy goes before us. While you are yet speaking, He hears. Before you can frame a word, mercy has already set out to meet you. Cast yourself upon Him now, with all the broken pieces of your life and all the grief you carry for others. Bring the innocent babes to Him in your prayers, He receives them. Bring the abandoned wife, husband, son, daughter, friend, He is a Father to the fatherless and a Husband to the widow. Bring your own lonely soul. The Lord is slow to anger and plenteous in mercy. He longs to show that mercy to you, not to sweep you away in judgment. Let this be the day when mercy's errand reaches its goal. May the sweet sense of that mercy be shed abroad in your heart, and may you find in Christ the shelter you have sought. Amen.
