Yesterday’s sermon was a rerun. A “viewer’s choice” rerun. A most welcome rerun that had me crying in my pew.
The sermon was about Grace. Not about a person named Grace, but about being a person seeking and giving Grace. About knowing what is required to receive Grace. About making sure you have someone in your life who gives you Grace when you need it and you don’t think you deserve it.
Grace is not always eloquent like the father’s speech when the prodigal son returned home and begged for forgiveness for his mistakes and sins.
Sometimes grace is a short sentence, whispered repeatedly in your ear so you are sure to hear it between sobs.
Grace is full of love – of acceptance – and it doesn’t take big words or phrases to make sure Grace is understood. The right tone and consistency can make the smallest words sound like a big, omniscient announcement.
My Grace yesterday came in the form of a patient, loving, soft, warm, 6’7″ hug.