Although I am less than the least of all the Lord’s people, this grace was given me: to preach to the Gentiles the boundless riches of Christ, and to make plain to everyone the administration of this mystery, which for ages past was kept hidden in God, who created all things.
Yesterday, I ran in the rain like a giddy child. I ran the last stretch home at a sprint, lungs bursting, heart pounding, grinning from ear to ear like a dog with its head lolling out of a car window. As I ran, I was listening to the lyrics "I love the king and the king loves me" on repeat. Simple but utterly profound. I love the king and the king loves me. Simples. And yet, how hard to cling to that in themiddle of life? How easy to lose that childlike giddy feeling of being loved, the thrill of knowing that the creator king is mindful of me every hour, minute, second? Paul tells us that grace is specific. This grace. Not that grace or someone else's grace. My grace. The specific apportioning of grace given to me to do what God would have me do today. Paul's commission to the Gentiles was an act of grace and his doing of it was done standing in grace. God’s grace is enough for whatever he has lined up for us. We, like Paul, are called to make plain, understandable, accessible, the unbelievable richness of God. Jesus is boundlessly beautiful, good, pure, holy, loving. How to make that plain? How to speak it, show it, live this story in a way that others can make sense of? Whoever God has graciously given you to speak his story to, his promise is the grace to do it. More grace please, Jesus. More knowledge of just how boundless you are.