tender mercy

Sometimes, I find myself attracted to a word or phrase for a few days, weeks, or even a year. Does that ever happen to you? Last year, I kept thinking of the word “refuge,” and I still love the images that word evokes in my mind. For several weeks, my mind has been floating to the words “tender mercy.” I am often attracted to that phrase. It began years ago when the movie “Tender Mercies” came out. If you haven’t seen it, I highly recommend it. There’s a scene that has stayed in my memory. The female lead says to her male counterpart something like, “When I think of God’s tender mercies, I think of you and Sonny [her son].” I centered my Christmas letter that year on the phrase, writing about the people who are, for me, God’s tender mercies.

Many verses speak of God’s tender mercy. One of my favorites is, “The Lord is good to all: and his tender mercies are over all his works” (Psalm 145:9). I like the all-encompassing aspect of “his tender mercies are over all his works.” All his works—all of creation—humans, of course, but also animals, plants, stars, suns, moons, planets, universes, and everything in them.

One of my favorite podcasts is Padraig Ó Tuama’s “Poetry Unbound.” In each episode, Padraig reads a poem, reflects on it, and then ends by reading the poem again. It’s like “Lectio Divina” for poetry—maybe “Lectio Poetica,” or something like that. In the 12/12/24 episode, Padraig reads “Hill walk” by Richard Langston. He reflects on the word “move” and says:

I like to think about what the emotion of a word is. And obviously, it depends as to the context in which you’re using it, but when you’re thinking about what moves you in a day — maybe especially if there’s something that’s being repaired between people — the word move is a gentle one. Starting off with that soft M and then into the elongated “ooo” of move. [transcript here]

I think similarly of the word “mercy”—”starting off with that soft M” and then into the gentle “errr” sound. The word “tender” has that soft “errr” sound, too. “Mercy” is such an old-fashioned word—isn’t it?—with layers of meaning and associations. It evokes in me a feeling of receiving good things I do not deserve. In fact, sometimes what we think of as justice deserves punishment or recompense, but instead, mercifully, we are accounted as justified, with neither punishment nor recompense required.

And “tender.” Oh, the gentle feeling that word gives me. It contains the word “tend,” another old-fashioned word I think of as synonymous with care. “Tender” means more than care or gentle; it implies love. We are tender with or towards others—whether other people, animals, or other things in creation—because we love them. Our tender touch transmits love.

And. as the old hymn says, “oh, the bliss of this glorious thought,” that God includes me in his tender mercies. His touch, gaze, and loving arms around me contain his tender mercy. His love. Me, you, all of creation. When God thinks of his tender mercies, he thinks of you.