Grace towers as the pinnacle of divine paradoxes: we are saved by it only as we are lost in it.
Grace doesn’t meet my needs. Grace surpasses my wildest expectations. It isn’t meted out with a thimble. It’s an ocean without a shore.
Sometimes grace speaks, sometimes it is silent but grace never mumbles under its breath.
Grace has a backbone. Grace resists sin with gritted teeth and clinched fists. Grace doesn’t go where the law says, “no”.
Grace has no handles and is impossible for sinners to pick up. But grace does have hands and has no difficulty picking us up.
Grace will not be bound up by tidy minds that would rather be amused than amazed by it. One might as well dam up Niagara with toothpicks.
The grace of God will not fit neatly into our tight categories. It resists all attempts to trap it behind the iron bars of finite reasoning.
Christians are debtors to grace and all the richer for it.