God’s Mercy, Multiplied: A Reflection as April Ends
April felt like a slow unravelling. A month where appetite felt absent—not just physically, but emotionally, spiritually, relationally. The kind of absence where food loses flavour, company feels distant, and even sunlight, warm and glowing, feels like it’s shining for someone else.
I’ve noticed it most in my body. Some days I forgot to eat. Other days I ate but felt like I hadn’t. There were meals I prepared that I barely tasted. I’d sit in silence, aware that my body was full of something, but unsure if it was fullness or fatigue.
Even the appetite for everyday things—like taking a walk, reaching out to a friend, or tending to small joys—waned. I’d tell myself, “I should,” but the “should” never quite moved me to “do.”
And yet, amidst all this, God has been gently reorienting me. I’ve been steeping myself in the stories of Esther and Job, and in doing so, I’ve encountered mercy in ways I didn’t expect.
Esther reminds me that God’s providence runs deeper than my emotional state or present clarity. That even in silence and shadows, He is positioning, guiding, sustaining.
Job teaches me that even in weariness and unanswered questions, God’s presence never departs. That lament and faith can live in the same breath. And that our suffering doesn’t diminish our belovedness in God’s eyes.
So, as May begins, my theme is simple but profound:
God’s mercy, multiplied.
Multiplied over my body, which is slowly learning to receive nourishment again.
Multiplied over my mind, where fog is making room for clarity.
Multiplied over my spirit, where a renewed softness is replacing the crust of apathy.
Multiplied over my relationships, some quiet, some blooming, some being re-evaluated.
Multiplied over my moments, where grace is quietly filling in the cracks.
I don’t have a tidy ending for this post. But I do have a tender beginning to the new month. One where I’m saying:
Lord, help me re-accept your mercy. Not because I’ve earned it. But because You’ve already made it available.
Here’s to May—
To noticing what’s stirring again.
To moving gently, but still moving.
To feeding both body and soul.
To letting God’s mercy meet us exactly where we are.
@nourishmyspirit “How’s your heart?” And lately, I’ve been asking God that too. Not because He’s been unkind — He hasn’t. But life has been… layered. Some delays. Some surprises. Some prayers still waiting to bloom. And in protecting myself, I’ve realised: my heart’s grown guarded in places God never asked me to guard. But through Nehemiah rebuilding, Esther surrendering to purpose, Ezra returning to the foundations, and Job wrestling without letting go— I’m learning this: Bring it to God, not just your heart. Don’t store it. Surrender it. Let God soften what life has tried to harden. “But He knows the way that I take; when He has tested me, I will come forth as gold.” — Job 23:10 Because He’s not only after your obedience. He’s after your whole heart—tender, tired, still trusting. #NourishMySpirit #HowIsYourHeart #journaling #ChristianReflections #Nehemiah #Ezra #EstherObedience #StillSoftStillHis #FaithInTheEveryday #HeartCheck ♬ original sound - _kingie_
Scriptures to reflect on:
“The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.” — Lamentations 3:22-23
“But He knows the way that I take; when He has tried me, I shall come out as gold.” — Job 23:10
“And who knows whether you have not come to the kingdom for such a time as this?” — Esther 4:14
