God's overwhelming grace,
so sufficient through my years,
leaves me struggling to define it.
It has so many faces, so many facets,
that I am continually
blindsided,
stunned,
delighted.
At first glance grace is soothing;
softly spoken, gentle words.
A mother’s kiss on a wounded knee,
tender arm ‘round trembling shoulders,
warm blanket
on my lap
by the fire,
in the winter.
Yet grace is strong, it’s firm, foundational,
as I stand on Daddy’s shoulders.
I tap my foot against the bottom
as I learn
how to swim
in the pool.
Grace is assurance, a confidence,
that I am protected, that I am safe.
And it’s The Rock I land on
when I hit rock-bottom.
It is a drawing to repentance,
mercy that comes alongside.
Reconciliation,
restoration,
Father running to meet his wayward child.
Grace is covenant kept;
it means a new creation,
it is “Go and sin no more,”
It is “But God…” and
“There is now no condemnation.”
It is one step forward, two steps back,
new mercies every morning.
It is living hope in darkness,
in the desperation of grief,
in the middle of the unknown
it’s Truth that sets me free.
It is the Living Word,
the Word made flesh,
the Word that endures forever;
a gentle Lion, a mighty Lamb,
both full of strength
and tender.
This is the grace
that breathes through my story.
My friend, may I share it with you?
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