"A bruised reed He will not break,
And a dimly burning wick He will not extinguish..." Isaiah 42:3
I wrote this little piece on grace two years ago, as an outburst of joy in understanding that God wasn't watching me for the first slip-up, ready to cut me off from His love.
After hearing yesterday of the breaking of a friend who happens to be a wholehearted servant of God, this just seemed appropriate. The world will judge, and the church will judge more. I just dare them to continue. Not one of us is proof against breaking. We are already broken. All any of us have to offer in our defense is that we are forgiven, and we are loved.
Grace is one of the high concepts: it seems impossible to understand, until one day you "just get it" and then it is the simplest thing you've ever learned, and you wonder how you've missed it all this time.
It is a whole new dimension, bringing shape and life and color to concepts that seemed as flat and lifeless and uninteresting as an old textbook.
It is a learned concept, one God teaches us, much as a dance instructress gently corrects the line and posture of her students according to their level. Like any other talent, the faculties for it are a gift, but the ability to use it comes only with much practice.
Grace is the difference between religion and faith, between infatuation and true love, between good deeds and honor. And where the being of a person is concerned--soul and spirit--it is the difference between death and life.