Out of his fullness we have all received
grace in place of grace already given.
Not that many years ago, my granddaughter Ella figured if one hair bow was good, layers of bows were bound to be fantastic. She took her cues from rainbows; the more colors, the better. (Tweet that!) And why limit herself to one pattern or design? Wear them all and quadruple the effect.
While I was writing The Calling of Ella McFarland, the concept of God’s providing His grace layer upon layer reminded me of Ella’s hair bows. How amazing that Ella’s Easter egg hunt attire would serve to illustrate one of God’s enduring truths.
As a teen and young adult, I would have told you I understood God’s saving grace. I had experienced it: I heard the Gospel. Believed it. Repented. Confessed the name of Jesus. And was baptized. My sins were washed away, and I was ushered into His body, the church, where forgiveness of future sins was available. All I had to do was ask.
Somewhere along the line, I had missed out on the answers to these important questions.
The result? Insecurity. Guilt. Shame. Fear. And the hovering presence of a judgmental spirit.
It took being cast into the throes of a divorce I neither wanted, asked for, nor thought I could live through to come completely undone. Self-sufficiency could claim no part of circumstances beyond my control. (Tweet that!)
So I wandered. In a desert. Lost. Thirsty. Alone.
I sinned. A lot. Willingly. Purposefully. Even gleefully.
I avoided prayer. Ask for forgiveness? What was the point?
What better place for God to show Himself than the heart of a daughter who no longer asked for forgiveness? (Tweet that!) Turned out, He wasn’t finished with me yet.
Without my realizing it, He maneuvered circumstances so that discontent would grow in my heart. Heaviness of spirit would force my chin to my chest. And the twisting turmoil in my middle would birth a niggling longing for relief.
Someone mentioned a church in San Antonio. Someone else, books by Max Lucado. No Wonder They Call Him the Savior and God Came Near brought tears to my eyes that couldn’t be staunched.
He loves me even when I’m dirty? He washes me when I haven’t asked? (Tweet that!)
Bit by relief-seeking bit, the knots in my middle relaxed. I began to pray again. My prayers moved from desperate pleas for forgiveness to gratitude and praise for forgiveness already given. (Tweet that!)
It seems Ella had it right after all. One simple bow is good, but it isn’t nearly enough to illustrate God’s grace. Layers of grace–moment by moment, breath by breath–go far beyond a rainbow. They reach the pot of gold. (Tweet that!)
Precious Lord, we bow before You in sheer gratitude for the richness of Your grace. You’ve lavished it upon us. You’ve add so many layers upon layers we’ve lost count. We’re unable to take it all in. We can only bask in the sweetness. And thank You. For Jesus’ sake ~