All my life, I’ve prayed for God to give me his eyes. I’ve wanted to see people the way Jesus sees them. Not just their outward appearance, mistakes, or actions, but who they truly are. Someone God created. Someone Jesus loves.
I never imagined how God would answer that prayer or how he would reveal his gift of mercy in my life.
On December 12, 2018, I sat in a courtroom for the sentencing of the man who murdered my only son, Luke. Tyrone was sitting alone. No family. No friends. No one on his side of the courtroom. And as I looked at him, something extraordinary happened.
I felt an overwhelming love for him. I wanted to leave my own family, cross the courtroom, and sit beside the man who had taken my son’s life. I didn’t want him to be alone.
How could I possibly feel that way? I believe God was allowing me to see Tyrone through his eyes.
A Heart That Longed for Love
Growing up, I desperately wanted to feel loved. My father struggled with alcoholism, and my mother was left to handle most of the discipline. She and I frequently clashed, and for much of my childhood, I didn’t appreciate the sacrifices she made for me.
I loved spending time with Dad. He spoiled me, and I was Daddy’s little girl. But I also spent years trying to earn his approval. Compliments were rare, and I longed to hear that he was proud of me.
As I grew older, my relationship with Mom changed. Today, I’m deeply grateful for her, especially because she faithfully took me to church even when I fought her every step of the way. Once, I even called Dad from the church telephone and convinced him to come get me! But Mom never gave up. And because of her persistence, I came to know Jesus.
Looking back, I can see how longing to be loved shaped so much of my life. I wanted to feel accepted, valued, and important to someone. Perhaps that’s one reason I’ve always been so sensitive to other people’s pain.
When someone is hurting, I want to help. When someone feels rejected, I want them to know they matter. And when someone seems unloved, something inside me wants to reach out. But it wasn’t until much later that I began to understand why.
The Gift of Mercy
Romans 12:6–8 teaches that God gives believers different gifts according to his grace. These gifts include serving, teaching, prophesying, encouraging, giving, leading, and showing mercy.
The passage ends with these words:
“… if it is to show mercy, do it cheerfully” (Romans 12:8).
As I learned about spiritual gifts, I began to recognize mercy as one of mine.
Suddenly, so much about my personality made sense.
I’ve always been deeply affected by other people’s suffering. I don’t simply want to acknowledge someone’s pain. I want to do something to ease it. Of course, having a compassionate heart doesn’t mean I always know the right thing to do. Sometimes I care so deeply that I make myself vulnerable to being hurt.
And I’ve learned that mercy doesn’t mean excusing wrongdoing or pretending that someone hasn’t caused terrible pain. It means recognizing that even people who have done awful things are still human beings in need of God’s grace. Which brings me back to Tyrone.
What I Couldn’t Have Known
When I saw Tyrone alone in that courtroom, I knew almost nothing about his childhood. I didn’t know about the instability he had experienced or the years he had spent in foster care and group homes. I didn’t know how deeply he had longed to feel loved.
I learned those things years later, after spending many hours visiting him in prison, talking with him, playing games, and getting to know him as a person.
His story is heartbreaking.
But I want to be careful here. His childhood doesn’t excuse what he did to Luke. Nothing could ever make my son’s murder acceptable. Still, understanding someone’s pain isn’t the same as excusing their actions.
And when I think back to that courtroom, I wonder about something: Was my gift of mercy responding to a need I couldn’t yet understand? Was God answering my lifelong prayer to give me his eyes?
I can’t claim to know everything God was doing in that moment. But I know what happened in my heart. I saw a man sitting alone, and I wanted him to know he wasn’t alone.
Loving Someone Anyway
Over the years, I’ve come to know much more about Tyrone. I’ve seen qualities I admire and things that trouble me. I’ve learned about his past, listened to his struggles, and experienced both the joys and difficulties of building a relationship with him.
And I love him.
Not because he earned my love. Not because I’ve forgotten what he did. And certainly not because loving him somehow lessens my love for Luke.
I love him because Jesus first loved me (1 John 4:19). And I believe the mercy God has placed in my heart is meant to be shared, not reserved only for people who are easy to love.
I sometimes think about how different my life would be if I had looked at Tyrone that day and seen only a murderer. I would have missed the opportunity to know the person behind that terrible act. I would have missed the opportunity to show him the love of Jesus. And I would have missed discovering something remarkable about the way God can work through an ordinary person’s heart.
I don’t believe everyone is called to do what I’ve done. And I don’t believe mercy always looks like visiting someone in prison. Sometimes mercy is sitting beside someone who is grieving. Sometimes it’s listening without judgment, forgiving someone who has hurt us, or offering kindness to someone everyone else has overlooked.
God has given each of us different gifts, and those gifts are meant to be used to serve others.
For years, I prayed for God to give me his eyes. I never imagined that one day I’d be looking into the eyes of my son’s murderer and seeing someone I could love.
But that’s exactly what happened.
How Can You Recognize God’s Gift of Mercy in Your Life?
Perhaps you’ve never considered whether God has given you the spiritual gift of mercy. I certainly didn’t always recognize it in myself.
Do you feel drawn to people who are hurting, even when you don’t know them? Does your heart ache for those others might judge, reject, or overlook? Do you find yourself wanting to understand someone’s pain rather than simply judging their mistakes?
Those feelings alone don’t necessarily mean you have the spiritual gift of mercy, but they may be worth prayerfully exploring. Ask Jesus to help you recognize the gifts he’s placed within you. Think about the people you’ve naturally felt drawn to comfort, encourage, or love. And consider how God might use those experiences to help you serve others.
We are all called to show mercy, whether or not it’s our particular spiritual gift. But perhaps God has given you a special tenderness toward those who are hurting—and he’s waiting for you to recognize how he can use it.
And perhaps the greatest gift wasn’t simply learning to see Tyrone differently. It was discovering what God could do with a heart willing to love.
But I’ve also learned that even a gift as beautiful as mercy can leave us vulnerable. I explore that in Can Your Spiritual Gift Also Make You Vulnerable?
What gifts has God placed in your heart, and how might he be inviting you to use them to show his love to someone who needs it?
