Sometimes, I hold grace at arm’s length. I stuff it in my back pocket, or I bottle it up for later. “Thanks for grace, God. I’m sure I’ll need it soon.” And then I march into my day, forgetting all about grace until the moment when the day begins to unravel, and even then, I only check my back pocket to make sure it’s still there. I grab the strings and start tying knots in an attempt to stop the unraveling. It’s only when my day is totally out of control that I finally decide to make use of the grace I’ve been given.
I’m not sure why that is. I’m not sure if it’s arrogant independence, or if it’s a subconscious fear that I might run out of grace (so I better save it for emergencies). But sufficient grace means that it won’t run out, that I have enough for every moment. And not only is His grace sufficient, but then there’s that other promise, the one about His mercies being new every morning. Instead, I’m like a shipwrecked sailor, rationing my last drops of water until I’m at the point of death, never realizing that my life boat has coasted into fresh water.
Why do we ration a sufficient God? Why do we conserve mercies that are daily renewed?
My motivation this week is to embrace grace, to breathe it in deeply the moment my toes slip out from under the covers and touch the carpet, to take it out of my back pocket and use it, to test that sufficiency. And do you know what I’m going to find? A Strength that is more complete and more perfect every time I depend on it.
This post has been edited and republished from my former blog Homekeepers. Over the next several months, I will be merging my two blogs into this one location.