His Grace

No one can redeem the life of another

or give to God a sufficient ransom--

the ransom for a life is costly,

no payment is ever enough--

Psalm 49:7-8

It seems like such a simple concept and one that should be understood. After all, if we follow the Roman Road (as so many of us have learned throughout our Sunday School days) we know that the only ransom for the sin that we all commit is death and our Heavenly Father sent His Son to do just that. We've been saved this death by His grace and His grace alone. Christianity 101.

But the concept outlined in Psalm 49 becomes more difficult when it's put into action. When there are those that you love--really, really love--who are suffering under brokenness, through darkness, against lies and pride and anger. It's painful to watch when you know how deeply our Lord loves and how free is His grace. How precious and peaceful and hope-filled is life in the Light. It's so tempting to slip into if-then prayers. I've had to backtrack in a few of my own when I replay what I've just said or written.

In Romans 9:16, Paul reminds us that "It does not depend on human desire or effort, but on God's mercy." Of course, this verse in context refers to salvation by grace as opposed to works, but the concept is the same: we are redeemed by God's mercy, lifted from an empty life by God's mercy. "Ears that hear and eyes that see--the Lord has made them both" (Prov. 20:12). It doesn't matter how much I want it to happen, it is the Lord whose way prevails. "In their hearts human beings plan their course, but the Lord establishes their steps" (Prov. 16:9).

I consider how often I attempt to plan my course (or the courses of others, for that matter) and I'm struck with how limited my sight is. For in my mind I can see only the future that I imagine and the past I remember; and physically I can see only what is directly in front of me, and perhaps a little to my sides, if my peripheral vision is sharp. Though I know there is a small oven behind me, I cannot see it. I cannot see my refrigerator magnets or what's past the shojii screen that's covering my window. I can't see Indiana or my dad's home in Hershey. I can't see the seas of the Caribbean or the stars or the moon. I can't see the future or the past. I can't see the street my parent's grew up on or the men my grandmother dated before my grandpa. I can't see what happened to make my parents who they are or the moment that I changed from a little girl into a teenager. I can't see who I'll marry or the children I'll have. I can't see where my best friends will be living in ten years or the reasons why they decided to live there. I can't see the hair on the top of my head or the calluses underneath my toes. What's below my floorboards and what's hiding behind my air conditioning unit? I see none of these things. But the Lord sees them all. And then some.

It's for reasons like these that I'm beyond grateful for the Lord's sovereignty. It's reasons like this that I'm convinced of His faithfulness. That I'm floored by His unchanging, ever-present, steady nature. Beyond a shadow of a doubt I know that He has a plan and a purpose and even if I ache so badly I'm brought to tears for those in my life who are broken, I will praise God that He alone can save.

The price on our heads is costly--but take heart, for Christ has already paid the price.