Grace, Would You Make Your Way to the World

I use to think that Grace was when even though others would only see the dirt in someone, but you couldn’t help but to just see gold; where darkness and light became the same to you. I’m starting to think, that the greatest kind of Grace is not that given to those who you choose to purposely pass over the shadows of. 

Rather the greatest kind of Grace, is the Grace given to those who do not understand it; the ones who only see the dirt, the dark, the shadows; the ones who throw their stones.


He blew on me and called me lovely


Just like when they threw them at You. And speaking back with tears so heavy, You stuttered, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” 

Jesus... can we make an exchange? Although you should know that You would be worse off. 

...And without thinking twice, He took the bottom right hand corner of the inside of my chest. And with Him, the betrayal which belonged to me. 

And with His hands delicately assembled, imbruing with the blood from me, so infectious, yet harmless to Him. He blew on the piece of me and called it lovely, then reaching into His own body, He drew out every piece of His own heart and placed it into the cavity of my own. 

...and then I, in taking respirations of life from You, felt it come back into me again. 

...I’ve been made alive again. 

And only now can I still love the one who threw their stone, and keep on giving to those who won’t give me anything back. 

Just like You did to me, Jesus. 

To us.  

When I had no use for Your redeeming blood.  

Weren’t I glorious? 

...I was a Pharisee, I never saw my need for grace.  

But Your Love, it came to me, stood next to mine and I saw that I was poor.