What Grace Is

There was a little boy whose teacher gave the class an assignment: “Go home and find out what grace is.”

Now, the little boy had heard the word grace before. He had heard the preacher talk about grace. He had heard folks pray about grace. He had even heard somebody sing about grace. But he didn't really know what grace was.

So he went home and asked his mother. “Mama, what is grace?” His mother thought for a moment and said, “Baby, I think grace has something to do with forgiveness. Something about God's love and how He pardons us.” The little boy scratched his head. “Mama, I don't think I can take that back to my teacher.”

So he went looking for his daddy. His daddy was standing in the bathroom shaving. “Daddy, my teacher told me to find out what grace is. Mama tried to explain it, but I still don't understand. What is grace?” His father wiped the shaving cream from his face, looked at his son and said with confidence: “Son, grace is the unmerited favor of God.” The little boy stood there for a moment. “Daddy, I don't even know what unmerited means!” His father laughed. “Well, son, maybe I don't know how to explain it either. Your grandma is sitting out on the porch. Go ask her.”

So the little boy walked out onto the porch. There sat Grandma in her rocking chair, rocking back and forth. “Grandma?” “Yes, baby?” “My teacher told me to find out what grace is. Mama gave me an explanation I didn't understand. Daddy gave me a theological definition I can't even pronounce. Grandma, can you tell me what grace is?”

Grandma stopped rocking. She looked at that little boy and smiled. “Baby, Grandma didn't get much schooling. I don't know anything about theology. I can't give you one of those big definitions. But I can tell you what grace is like.”

The little boy moved closer. Grandma leaned forward and said: “Baby, the first thing I can tell you is... It's amazing.

There have been times when I couldn't explain why God kept me. Times I should have lost my mind. Times I didn't know how I was going to make it. Times when I made mistakes and didn't deserve another chance. But somehow, God kept making a way.

So all I can tell you is... Amazing grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me. I once was lost... but now I'm found. I was blind... but now I see.”

And suddenly, that little boy understood. Because grace isn't something you fully understand from a dictionary. Grace is something you experience. Grace is when God gives you what you could never earn. Grace is when your mistakes say, “It's over,” but God says, “I'm not finished.” Grace is when you know you should have been counted out, but God counted you back in. Grace is waking up after yesterday gave you every reason not to. Grace is getting another opportunity after you mishandled the last one. Grace is God knowing everything about you—the good, the bad, the ugly, the secret, the embarrassing—and still saying, “You belong to Me.”

Some of us are walking around today not because we were always right. We're here because of grace. Not because we never fell. Grace picked us up. Not because we never got lost. Grace found us. Not because we never sinned. Grace covered us. Not because we deserved another chance. Grace gave us one anyway.

That's why I've learned not to look down on anybody. Because when you really understand grace, you stop bragging about how good you've been and start thanking God for how good He's been.

You don't have to understand all the theology to recognize grace. If you've ever been forgiven when you deserved judgment... If you've ever received another chance when you had already used up the last one... If you've ever walked away from something that should have destroyed you... If God ever opened a door you couldn't open yourself... You've met grace.

And maybe that's why the old saints didn't need a seminary degree to explain it. They had lived long enough to know: Grace really is amazing.

And if somebody asks me today, “Wane, what is grace?” I may not give them a theological definition. I'll just tell them:

Grace is God loving me when I wasn't very lovable. Grace is God keeping me when I couldn't keep myself. Grace is God giving me another morning when yesterday proved I didn't deserve it.

And perhaps the greatest testimony of grace is simply this: I am still here. Still standing. Still believing. Still praising. Still becoming. Not because I've been so good. Not because I've done everything right. Not because I earned it. But because somewhere between what I deserved and what God gave me... GRACE STEPPED IN. And all I can say is... Amazing.