I went to the beach to work on a project, and honestly… it wasn’t going great.
The place I stayed was cold,
there wasn’t a cozy place to sit,
the bed was hard,
and while it was called “Cottage by the Sea,”
it was really “Cottage by the Grass and Clouds.”
No ocean view unless you stopped on the hill
before descending to the “cottage,”
a one-bedroom condo.
I woke up grumpy and thought breakfast might fix it.
I went to heat something up… the microwave flashed once and died.
Great. At least there was a tea kettle.
I tried to work, but nope. Not in the mood.
I asked AI for coffee places.
First place it sent me was inside a members-only resort.
Second one had amazing cinnamon rolls, but the coffee was bitter.
Then maintenance called and said the microwave
had gotten unplugged because someone shoved
pots and pans against the cord.
My first “shut” of the door that morning must’ve knocked it loose.
So… yay? I had a microwave again.
I came back to the Cottage of Grass and Sky.
I wrote. Slowly. Painfully.
Time got away from me.
I was running on coffee and a cinnamon roll and not much else.
I finally went hunting for dinner after 6.
I’m not good at eating alone in restaurants.
One place was basically a Pronto Pup. Nope.
Another empty.
Another closing.
I finally ate near where I was staying. It was fine.
The check took longer to come than the dinner.
At 8 p.m., tired and ready to be done, I was driving back on a dark country road.
I saw a parked car.
The headlights came on.
It hit the road behind me.
Blue and red lights flashing.
Aw, man.
The night before, I had already wondered if this whole trip had been
my idea and not God’s.
Now, after this grueling day, I was sure of it.
And here came the consequences.
The officer told me I was going 38 in a 25.
I told him I believed him.
I handed everything over.
I waited, thinking, This is going to be expensive.
Tears right on the edge.
He came back and said, “I’m just going to give you a warning.”
And that was it. The tears won.
I said, “You’ve been the best part of my day.”
He said, “I don’t hear that very often.”
I said, “God bless you. I’m just trying to get back to where I’m staying.”
He said, “Just drive a little slower on your way home.”
That… was mercy.
I was guilty. I deserved a ticket and the insurance hit that comes with it.
But instead: mercy.
Sometimes God’s mercy shows up in ordinary moments.
It is His character.
“The LORD is compassionate and merciful, slow to get angry and filled with unfailing love.”
Psalm 103:9 (NLT)
It is His compassion.
“Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.”
Hebrews 4:16 (ESV)
It is His custom.
“Look upon me and be merciful to me, as Your custom is toward those who love Your name.”
Psalm 119:132 (NKJV)
His character.
His compassion.
His custom.
Meaning… He does this.
This is who He is.
And that’s what I needed that night.
Not a lecture.
Not punishment.
Just mercy
I thought I was out of God’s will.
I was sorry.
I was tired.
I was empty.
And God said, through a police officer on a cold night,
“I’m still with you.
Just drive a little slower on your way home.”
