Grace Greater
Blustering wind ushered me into that historic church basement. I welcomed the radiator heat. It was a pastor’s meeting. I love pastors.
Hand shakes and hugs, connections made and stories exchanged—new friends and old—our meeting began as most do: a welcome, a prayer, and a song.
The worship leader with earnest voice and acoustic guitar began singing Grace Greater Than Our Sin—a familiar hymn. First verse and chorus I sang enthusiasm. But then, a new to me second verse. Knowing the tune, I began singing it.
“Sin and despair like sea waves cold, threaten the soul with infinite loss…” Until I couldn’t.
My tongue froze. My mind raced. Sometimes its sin; my circumstances being the object of my own rebellion. Sometimes its choice; causing concern in retrospect. Sometimes its happenstance; the unkindness of our fallen world.
“Grace that is great, yes, grace untold. Points to the refuge, the mighty cross,” that verse concludes.
As the chorus returned, I still couldn’t sing. Grace. In the cross. Our refuge. My refuge. No matter my sin. No matter my rebellion. No matter my circumstances. “Grace, grace, God’s grace!” Others sang on. I remained silent. Reveling in great grace.