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 the
middle 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.
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