Friday, 25 June 2010


It's been a while; it feels like an age. I've travelled miles. Some things have changed, others stayed the same.

That's just life.

Something that bowled me over the other day was this. I was thinking about how grace is like air. We need it to survive, we'd be lost, choked and dead without it. We walk through it all the time. It surrounds us. Every moment of every day it collides with our bodies, fills our lungs. Do we feel it? Do we realise it's there? I do not. Were it taken away, I'd feel it. Often I marvel at God's grace for me, when I screw up, when I fall down, when I've been underwater and take my first breath of urgent air. Sometimes, I ask for grace to be given to me, so that I can give it to others, not bite off heads, or hold crushing grudges. I thank God when I'm given grace for others. What I forget, what I'm completely oblivious to so much of the time, is the grace that other people are asking for, to give to me. Where would I be, without the grace of other people? What untimely (or fully justified) end would I have come to years ago or every day without God giving people like me grace to forgive people like me?

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