I’ve been thinking a lot about God’s grace lately. About its depth and breadth. About its significance. About its necessity.
Grace is often define as unmerited favor. God’s grace is kindness we haven’t earned. Yet such grace is also de-merited favor. It’s not only that we haven’t earned God’s favor, we don’t even deserve it.
Life itself is an act of God’s grace: “nor is he served by human hands, as though he needed anything, since he himself gives to all mankind life and breath and everything” (Acts 17:25). Certainly, God’s grace is inexorably linked to our justification: “For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God” (Ephesians 2:8). But it’s also the source of sanctification: “For the grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation for all people, training us to renounce ungodliness and worldly passions, and to live self-controlled, upright, and godly lives in the present age” (Titus 2:11-12).
The more I dwell on God’s grace in my life, the more I see it:
in the trials I face
in times of waiting
in times of joy
in interruptions to my plans
in challenging relationships
in my failures
in times of rest and refreshment
Indeed, God’s grace is more extensive, necessary, abundant, and amazing than my finite mind can fathom.
His Grace Covers Me
Before the very first dawn,
before life took its first breath,
I was known,
chosen,
beloved,
treasured.
Before I ever was, God’s grace covered me.
In a quiet garden, and on a moonlit night.
He prayed, wept, and left crimson droplets
He’s then arrested,
beaten,
mocked,
crucified.
A lamb slaughtered in my place.
His grace covered me.
Memories, like dark shadows, cling to me
Haunting me wherever I go
whispering,
chiding,
mocking,
shaming.
The past merges with the present, I cannot tell the difference.
Yet, his grace covers me.
My heart fixates on created things,
Striving to fill the aching void.
Longing for purpose,
meaning,
hope,
deliverance.
They fail to deliver and I only want more.
His grace still covers me.
My tongue is a traitor, saying things I soon regret.
Hurting those I love with:
sarcastic jabs,
biting retorts,
piercing put-downs,
harsh comebacks.
I wound and slay with the smallest of weapons.
His grace continues to cover me.
My world flips upside-down and inside-out
as I face sorrow and suffering:
loss,
illness,
persecution,
failure.
I cry out, “Why?” “How long?” and “When will you deliver?”
Then too, his grace covers me.
The day is almost night; my flesh and heart fail.
The veil gives way and I behold his face— now
perfected,
cleansed,
healed,
glorified.
Sanctified and complete, I worship before my Savior’s feet.
From beginning to end, his grace covers me.
Do you trace God’s grace in your life?
