Grace in which I stand

“Therefore,” he’d said, “having been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have access by faith into this grace in which we now stand.”

I stopped.  “This grace in which we now stand.”  The ancient words thrummed with power, touching some place deep within.

“This grace in which I now stand.”

Wasn’t I the girl who’d labored for years, unsure of her salvation?  Wasn’t I the one who’d lain awake many nights, terrified that I’d committed the unpardonable sin?  Wasn’t it me who’d seen Him as an angry, demanding Father, impossible to please?

Hadn’t this perfectionist despaired of meeting the high and holy standards of a perfect God?  And hadn’t I agonized for most of my life, wanting desperately to hear His voice, but seldom knowing for bone-deep sure…?  Yes!  Oh, yes.

How was it that He’d brought me to this place of sweet communion?  How had such a fearful, doubting sheep learned to hear and know His voice?  How could this natural complainer learn to find joy, even in the midst of hard things?  How…all this grace?

“Hallelujah!” I wanted to shout from my round corner table.  “It’s Jesus!  Through Him and Him alone…”

For those of you who struggle still, longing to know His touch, to know for sure that you hear His voice day by day and moment by moment, I say this:  “Being confident of this very thing, that He who began a good work in you will perform it (will carry it on to completion) until the day of Jesus Christ.” – Phil. 1:6

I say this, too, that a life of intimacy with Him is not for a select few alone.  If you are desperate for Christ; dying to know that you know that you know; praying, too, to be known by Him, then lift up those hands that hang down, strengthen the feeble knees, and cling with all your might to the Shepherd’s hand.

With open hands, turn and cling, letting go of the fear and doubt and unbelief that have bound you for so long, and grip tight.  In that marvelous grace, upheld by the everlasting arms, you can stand.