Grace in Place
This morning I woke up to my body clock, impeccably timed, having erroneously set my alarm four hours past due. Not intentional, of course, simply a slight slip-up of one mere key stroke. Yet, as the clock revealed 6:03 AM, plenty of time to dress and depart, I couldn't help but smile at refreshing irony, the kind wholesomely reflected by extant ether. With each tick and tock synced to the inaugural rise of October light, the pitter pats of a new month, a new day, warmed me to the contrast of 56 rejuvenating degrees. And as skyline met peripheral on the vocational road, I inhaled the grace that awakened me, breathing new life into understanding, abet not only by punctuality, but by mended perspective.
Pit, pat, pit, pat - the blades faithfully whisk the raindrops, as fervency presents my musings to grace. And as the burn for coffee subsides, the moment encases me, with time whizzing into a furious lapse.
The sweetest symbol in the equation of love
The captivating constant in the calculation of change
Authors a story, better than fiction
Soaked in a full, surreal reality
Yet, weakness in knees and strength in heart
Can’t shake the unshaking truth that beats
The idea that I am truly, sincerely unworthy
Of that which arrests my anxious attention
But a voice cries out on encouraging cue
Reminding me to speak the light:We have to receive grace to give it
We have to embrace grace to love it
And doing so gratefully to love at all
Are we as ignorant as we think we are?
Have we not tasted fresh flavors of grace?
The richness of relational renewal
The sustaining savor of stalwart seeking
The joy of overcoming the overwhelming…
…or do we label on afflicted assumption
Caught up in pretentious presumption
Preserving deception and setting inception
For the belief that cuts will keep us alive?
Why settle in chains, distraught with distain
Topping grief with itself and synthetic pain?
Instead, let’s fathom a faith that believes
That out of His fullness, we have received
Grace in place of grace already given (John 1:16)
That comes through Christ, our Lord who lives in
Our souls and minds, what can’t be defined
Our hearts and strength, perpetually refined
Yes, grace is the gift that reigns in death (Romans 5:17)
His life in my nostrils, I ride every breath
Pit, pat, pit, pat – the rain falls on unguarded head. But praise be to God, I am saturated in a divine romance – one steeped in a quenching grace that conquers doubt, never ceasing to amaze me.
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