New Every Morning

These words were not written on a good day. Jeremiah wrote them sitting in the ashes of Jerusalem, with the city burned, the temple gone, and his own heart worn thin. The chapter before this verse is full of complaint. And then, right in the middle of the grief, he remembers something, and hope comes back.

Notice what he hopes in. It isn’t his circumstances, and it isn’t his own strength. It’s the plain fact that he’s still standing. “We are not consumed.” If God dealt with us as our sins deserve, none of us would make it to breakfast. That we wake up at all is mercy.

And that mercy isn’t a leftover. It doesn’t run on yesterday’s supply, thinned out and stale. It is new every morning. Whatever you carried to bed last night—the sharp word you said, the prayer you skipped, the worry you couldn’t put down—the Lord meets you this morning with compassion that hasn’t been used up.

So don’t start the day by measuring your own faithfulness. Start by remembering His. Ours flickers. His is great. Before you check the news or your messages, say it back to Him: “Great is thy faithfulness.” Then go into the day as someone who has already been met with mercy.