I feel it when I am as low to the ground as a human can get without becoming a part of it.
To those of us who have messed up – and good – and felt mercy in a palpable way, that grace is a gift of great significance. The relief that floods in after being forgiven can bring me to my knees.
At no time is grace more evident to me than when I, in my desperate attempt to matter, muck it up with others I love. It is then that I deserve nothing but condemnation. And instead, I hear, “That’s okay. We all make mistakes.” Praise God for His mercy, through others, in those moments.
Why am I surprised when, time and time again, while working through an inward struggle, I crack open my Bible to read and find The Very Verse needed to both convict my heart of my rebellion and encourage my heart of my redemption?
Dripping onto me right from The Very Word itself.
Drip Your grace onto me, Father God.
And make my own heart willing to drip it onto others with abandon.