13 Attributes of YHVH’s Mercy

I was on Tumblr website one day and I found a poster-like photo that showed the 13 Attributes of Mercy. Of course this piqued my interest, because it was one of the Typography posters and I love a wide variety of fonts, but I went on about the day. Since then I’ve read about this several times but kept walking away from it. Today I was finishing up some Drafts that I’d started on and ran across this one.  I didn’t completely ignore the interest I first had in this topic because I got this much written:

The 13 Attributes of Mercy are found after the incident of the Golden calf, when God threatened to destroy the people of Israel rather than forgive them (Exodus 32:10). Moses felt that Israel’s sin was so serious that there was no possibility of intercession on their behalf.  God appeared to Moses and taught him the 13 Attributes, saying: “Whenever Israel sins, let them recite this (the 13 Attributes) in order and I will forgive them. Thus this appeal to God’s mercy reassures us that repentance is always possible and that God always awaits our return.

Exodus 34:6,7

The 13 Attributes of Mercy are based on two verses in Exodus: “The Lord! The Lord! God, Compassionate and Gracious, Slow to anger and Abundant in Kindness and Truth, Preserver of kindness for thousands of generations, Forgiver of iniquity, willful sin, and error, and Who Cleanses (but does not cleanse completely, recalling the iniquity of parents upon children and grandchildren, to the third and fourth generations).

As I’m sitting here writing about all this it’s just occurred to me that I wasn’t thinking I’d learn this through my own writing. I can’t believe it, I am somebody, I am like Yeshua is. How could I be so wretched and ugly and sinful and have the same qualities that He does. How can I have gone through 32 years of adult life and not ever put this together. I really am part of our Messiah.  He really is in me, His blood too, no but His spirit is? I’m okay, I am acceptable. He loves me because I’m part of Him! I read what a friend said about not being status quo and I’ve never wanted to be just status quo, I want to be more!  I think I’m having a breakthrough here.  He’s not even just a part of me, Yeshua is IN me. I feel like I’m half frozen in Awe and my mind is in slow motion as I’m trying to describe what I realize.

 

Grandma’s Hands

Grandma’s Hands

Grandma, some ninety plus years, sat feebly on the patio bench. She didn’t move, just sat with her head down staring at her hands. When I sat down beside her, she didn’t acknowledge my presence and the longer I sat, I wondered if she was OK.

Finally, not really wanting to disturb her but wanting to check on her at the same time, I asked her if she was OK. She raised her head
and looked at me and smiled. Yes, I’m fine, thank you for asking, she said in a clear strong voice. I didn’t mean to disturb you, Grandma, but you were just sitting here staring at your hands and I wanted to make sure you were OK, I explained to her.

Have you ever looked at your hands she asked. I mean really looked at your hands?

I slowly opened my hands and stared down at them. I turned them over, palms up and then palms down. No, I guess I had never really looked at my hands as I tried to figure out the point she was making.

Grandma smiled and related this story:

Stop and think for a moment about the hands you have, how they have served you well throughout your years. These hands, though wrinkled, shriveled and weak have been the tools I have used all of my life to reach out and grab and embrace life. They braced and caught my fall when as a toddler I crashed upon the floor. They put food in my mouth and clothes on my back. As a child my mother taught me to fold them in prayer.

They tied my shoes and pulled on my boots. They dried the tears of my children and caressed the love of my life. They wiped my tears when my husband went off to war. They have been dirty, scraped and raw, swollen and bent. They were uneasy and clumsy when I tried to hold our newborn daughter.

Decorated with my wedding band they showed the world that I was married and loved someone special. They wrote the letters home and trembled and shook when I buried my parents and spouse. They have held children, consoled neighbors, and shook in fists of anger when I didn’t understand.

They have covered my face, combed my hair, and washed and cleansed the rest of my body. They have been sticky and wet, bent and broken, dried and raw. And to this day when not much of anything else of me works real well these hands hold me up, lay me down, and again continue to fold in prayer.

These hands are the mark of where I’ve been and the ruggedness of my life. But more importantly it will be these hands that God will reach out and take when He leads me home. And with my hands He will lift me to His side and there I will use these hands to touch the face of Christ.

I will never look at my hands the same again. But I remember God reached out and took my grandma’s hands and led her home.

When my hands are hurt or sore or when I stroke the face of my children and husband I thank grandma. I know she has been stroked and caressed and held by the hands of God. I, too, want to touch the face of God and feel His hands upon my face.
(Author Unknown)