The shape of grace

I haven’t written here for a long time. I could go into why, but I’m not going to. I’m learning to love mystery more than I have in the past, and I therefore think you should, too. (Isn’t that helpful of me?)

I will say that, following passage of the healthcare bill, I was anticipating fog, a heaviness, a sense of “what-am-I-doing-here” that comes with the territory of fighting a battle that is lost. Those thoughts came and went, though, through that peace that passes understanding, an affirmation that God is good and in control. That fact is more than enough cause for His children to rejoice always, and press on.

And on the other side of that watershed moment in politics, I’ve experienced a fairly intense time of learning about grace. My great need for it. How to accept it. How to extend it. And all those exercises have drawn me back to the even more paramount reality that grace cannot come from a sense of duty or desire from within a “good person.” No such thing. Grace comes from God Himself, and our ability to extend grace is wholly tied to how heavily we lean on Him. So I’ve also been learning about the humility that leans hard.

I would be lying if I said it wasn’t terrifying. But it is perfectly liberating.

I’ve been blessed to be surrounded by people who know and generously give out God’s grace for my entire life, but it isn’t until the last month that I’ve been able to start discerning the shape of grace through all the distractions the world throws into my line of vision. It’s not comparable to any shape on this sphere we temporarily call home, so it’s hard to describe. But it’s real, it’s amazing, and it is very, very sweet.

My overwhelmed mind keeps turning over a few simple words from a breathtaking verse: “in the fullness of time, God…”

Acted.

Intervened.

Sent His Son for us.

And that is that shape of the grace that sustains us every day.