I was standing at the coffee counter at the back of the church one Sunday, chatting. Clay came up to get a cup of coffee and was asked which kind he preferred, dark roast or regular. Clay answered, “Either one. To me, they both taste the same.” But I started chuckling, because what I heard – with these amazing but fallible cochlear implants – was, “They both taste like shame.” I told him what I had heard and we shared a laugh.

He was still laughing about it while trying to deliver the welcome message to the congregation.

When they offered communion, as they do every week, I quietly walked up to get my bread and juice. When I sat back down to pray, all I could think about was, “this does not taste like shame.” And when I turned around and shared that snippet with Clay, he said “No! It tastes like mercy.”

Mercy, indeed. I love the constant reminders that I am offered this gift of hope and freedom that I 100% do not deserve. I mess up on the daily, and yet Christ is always in my corner. Through my faith in Him, my relationship with my Creator through prayer and studying the Bible, I have peace. So much peace. I didn’t for a very long time, y’all. I’ll admit that. Like any relationship, it’s had it’s ups and downs. But God never changes. He is steady when I am not. He does not taste like shame. He offers mercy. So much mercy.