GRACE encounters every injustice and makes a perfect justice conceivable.
It takes what we have found against ourselves and reframes it in a perspective of acceptance. At our own court — at the trial of ourselves — as our own prosecution — with no defence — grace stands up unexpectedly and makes an impassioned plea that convinces the Judge.
It stands there beside us, arm around our shoulder, bringing forth a truth that we have never come upon before. In gleeful disbelief a tear of sheer delight rolls down our face. We have met God.
Grace takes us away from the cold hard place. It leads us out into the light, where cool breezes massage the senses, where serenity seizes the moment.
Out in the wide open spaces of autonomy, hand in hand with grace, we find a world swelling with blessing. Joys abound upon joy; there is no limit to the expanse of the Spirit as he prevails through us.
This grace that overcomes, it holds us up in our despair, and, in that, it numbs.
This grace of the ages, it blends in all our stages, and enrols acceptance, where life’s an overburdening malevolence once reigned.
This grace — the veritable gift of the God of creation and eternity — makes all of life new; how it was always supposed to be.
This grace is a garden kept by the Gardener; the Guard of all Ages. Every good seed germinates and every good plant grows there. And whether we are seed or plant, we prosper by grace.
There is no guilt, no stain, and no shame, that grace cannot remove. There is no weariness that grace cannot proffer rest over. There is no assault that cannot be overturned at grace’s call. No bad thing prevails when grace superintends all good things.
Grace is a soft pillow to rest one’s head. It’s a still and calming ocean where safe shores are never far away. It’s the peace of reflection; a tranquil predilection; a very real sense of perfection.
Grace is an answer when we don’t even know the question to ask. It propounds our delight surrounding the mysteries of life and God.
Acceptance is the gift that grace wraps for us in divine cellophane.
Shalom — the deepest, most wholesome existential peace — is ours at grace’s hand.
Grace, grace, grace,
The prevalence of her peace,
She’s every divine release,
Toward us the turning of God’s face.
© 2015 S. J. Wickham.