I think we are like a bunch of people at the beach. Some of us like to watch the lapping waves from our towel havens or lawn chairs. Some of us like to play near the foam. Some of us like to get our feet wet. But usually, we see a couple of people way out in the water. Maybe they're on surf boards. Sometimes they get lost between high waves. Sometimes water-shy beach bums like me get really nervous seeing people bobbing around far from shore. I don't like it. It makes me uneasy.
God's grace is like the ocean. We've seen it from the beach and we think we know what it's like. We touch our feet to it, and think we've experienced it. We get in waist deep, and think we know all about it. We love it, and are drawn to it, but we are sometimes just so afraid of God's full-force grace.
Sometimes we want to control it. We stick to the tide pools because they seem safe. We sometimes even take shovels and dig them deeper, and when we play there we imagine the real deal. We love grace, and we are drawn to it, but we have not ever experienced the whole of it.
Sometimes we treat God's grace like the ocean. We develop property along it's edges. We build piers over the waves. We build boats to travel the surface, and drop our hooks in its depths. But it is more than we can ever fully take in. It is more than we can understand.
In 1862, Frederick Faber penned the following hymn of grace:
God's grace is like the ocean. We've seen it from the beach and we think we know what it's like. We touch our feet to it, and think we've experienced it. We get in waist deep, and think we know all about it. We love it, and are drawn to it, but we are sometimes just so afraid of God's full-force grace.
Sometimes we want to control it. We stick to the tide pools because they seem safe. We sometimes even take shovels and dig them deeper, and when we play there we imagine the real deal. We love grace, and we are drawn to it, but we have not ever experienced the whole of it.
Sometimes we treat God's grace like the ocean. We develop property along it's edges. We build piers over the waves. We build boats to travel the surface, and drop our hooks in its depths. But it is more than we can ever fully take in. It is more than we can understand.
In 1862, Frederick Faber penned the following hymn of grace:
There’s a wideness in God’s mercy, like the wideness of the sea;
There’s a kindness in His justice, which is more than liberty.
There’s a kindness in His justice, which is more than liberty.
There is welcome for the sinner, and more graces for the good;
There is mercy with the Savior; there is healing in His blood.
There is mercy with the Savior; there is healing in His blood.
Was there e'r a kinder shepherd half so gentle, half so sweet,
As the Savior who would have us come and gather at His feet?
As the Savior who would have us come and gather at His feet?
It is God: His love looks mighty, but is mightier than it seems;
’Tis our Father: and His fondness goes far out beyond our dreams.
’Tis our Father: and His fondness goes far out beyond our dreams.
But we make His love too narrow by false limits of our own;
And we magnify His strictness with a zeal He will not own.
And we magnify His strictness with a zeal He will not own.
For the love of God is broader than the measure of our mind;
And the heart of the Eternal is most wonderfully kind.
And the heart of the Eternal is most wonderfully kind.
Let us take the time to praise our adoptive Father for His great love and grace, larger than the ocean and beyond our understanding!
