I’ve been thinking about grace. God’s grace. Good thoughts. Not sure why grace has been so much on my mind, but I suppose it has much to do with my constant need for it. Maybe you can relate.
We worshipped Sunday morning at Winthrop Street Baptist Church in Taunton. Pastor Baeckel preached from Lamentations 3: “The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end!” Sweet. Good news indeed for a wretch like me.
Why would a holy God pour out His love upon a rebel? Why would He welcome home a wayward child? Why would my Heavenly Father choose to see even me through the lens of the accomplished, finished, saving work of His spotless, sinless Son? Grace.
Delight in it, Beloved. Grace.
I see it in our Lord’s good provision for us. Daily. I see it in His eternal promises. I see it in His gospel. I see it at the cross where Jesus died. I even see it in God’s loving discipline of you and me. Grace.
I see grace in our Savior’s resurrection. He lives! He lives! He lives! For those of us who are trusting in Christ alone, it’s Easter every day.
I see abundant grace in the hydrangeas of a New England July. (This is a shot from Eileen’s sister’s backyard.) A gloriously and meticulously adorned sanctuary if you’ll choose to see it. A wee taste of heaven. The varying colors from white to deep purple blooms reflect the acidity of the surrounding soil.
Jesus taught us about soil. The soil is everything. Is the soil of your heart ready for a new work of Christ’s amazing grace?