Trusting His Mercy in the Midst of Our Poverty

In different moments throughout the last few years, I’ve been praying with the icon of the Merciful Trinity, made by Sr. Cáritas Müller, a German Dominican.

Let’s start with the human figure at the center. It’s me, and it’s you. 

Haven’t you ever felt tired, numbed, or exhausted? Full of stains and sins, addicted with no strength left—lifeless. 

I have. 

My first thought was trying to make myself look a bit better before God; closing my heart, trying to protect myself and hide, like Adam and Eve in the garden. Closed like the circle around the figure thinking, “He can’t love me like that, right?” 

In a state of mortal sin, 

in the darkest areas of my hearts, 

in my wounds.

However, I can now see that God is open to me—all of me—like the circles surrounding the Trinitarian figures. They're open to their beloved.

The Father (on the right) is holding me; sustaining me; kissing me, His daughter. Just as the Father is holding you now, sustaining you, kissing you, His daughter. 

The Son (on the left) with his wounded hands, is holding our feet and kissing them. He kneels before us to serve us. He kneels below us to save us not on the surface but from our deepest abyss of shame, sorrow, and sin. 

The Holy Spirit (on top) as a dove and flame, is ready to descend upon us, giving us life in abundance. His beak is pointing to our hearts, to fill it; restore it; fortify it; to give rest. He is always ready to provide for us and our needs, upon our call. 

This disposition of mercy reminds me that to Him, we are easy to love. Our poverty doesn’t overwhelm or repulse Him. He knows we can’t fix ourselves—can’t save ourselves—either from sexual sin and addiction or anything else in our lives. But He doesn’t just tolerate those parts of us. “I’m tired of saving you; forgiving you over and over again is exhausting.” 

No. He rejoices in being God for us. He rejoices in loving us. He is merciful. 

In Spanish, my native language, the word “merciful” is pronounced “misericordioso.” It comes from the Latin words “misere” (misery) and “cordis” (heart). So directly translated, merciful means, “he who has a heart for misery.” 

You, my God, have a heart for my misery. What a glorious thing to say!

So every time I’m tempted to hide myself, like our first parents did in the garden, I ask for the grace to expose myself to His love, and to trust deeply in Him—in who He is. In a time of prayer, I wrote this litany that helps me enter into this space. Please join me if you’d like.

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

That you are always with me, My God, I trust in You.

That you have always been with me, My God, I trust in You.

That you will always be with me, My God, I trust in You.

That you always love me, My God, I trust in You.

That you have always loved me, My God, I trust in You.

That you will always love me, My God, I trust in You.

That you are good, My God, I trust in You.

That You know the plans you have for me, My God, I trust in You.

That You have plans for my welfare and not for woe, to give me a future of hope, My God, I trust in You.

That You pour water upon me, a spring of water, a fountain of life, My God, I trust in You.

That You always embrace me in the fire of Your love, My God, I trust in You.

That You promise and grant me a cool breeze, a new dawn, a Sunday without sunset, My God, I trust in You.

That You, the Father, Creator of Heaven and earth, love me and delight in me, Your daughter, Your masterpiece, Dad, I trust in You.

That You, Jesus my Beloved, are my Teacher, my Lord, my Light, and for me You died and rose again to save me from sin, the fading world, and from death,  Jesus, I trust in You.

That You, Holy Spirit, dwell in me as Your temple, and never tire of helping me, inspiring me, and molding me, Holy Spirit, I trust in You.

That You, Most Virgin Mary, good Mother, care for me, protect me, and intercede for me before the throne of the Lord, Mom, I trust in you.

Amen.

My dear sister, you can most certainly continue to pray with this litany, but I encourage you to write your own, invoking the Holy Spirit and looking at what stirs your heart in prayer: what touches you from Mass or in the Bible, and insights for this season. 

Then, take a picture and save it somewhere you can find it easily, like on your phone or in a note book. Pray it often with the Lord as He reminds you of His love. As the litany is repeated, it will wash over our hearts like the waves on a beach shore—like the waves of His mercy in the midst of our poverty.