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Knowing Grace
by
Megan Smith
She stood there, shivering in the night air amongst a pile of
hooded figures bent over one another’s goods. Walking briskly
back from the corps building I hardly saw her there. Noticing
me walking over, she looked like a child caught in the act,
but, to me, she was the most beautiful sight in the world
then. She had been missing from our community for days.
As I took Grace in my arms she collapsed into me and cried.
She is a small and delicate woman who usually wore a bright
and beautiful smile, but all of that seemed lost in the
darkness of the hour. Through her sobs she was able to explain
to me that she was afraid of going home (to where she shared a
house with other women in our community); this was not the
first time she had run away back to her addiction. It was
obvious she felt ashamed. Her sentiments struck a chord within
me as I saw in her a picture of myself standing in a place I
had been so many times before. I pleaded with her to come home
but, still stuck in her feelings of shame and addiction, she
refused the offer.
I was able to be waiting for Grace the next night when she did
return home. It wasn’t until the earliest hours of the morning
that we heard the door open. My roommate and I - petrified as
we were - crept down the hall and dared to look outside. At
first glance we saw nothing but shadows, but there, crouched
in the darkness with her head hung low, was Grace.
The joy that overtook that house that night was unlike
anything I had ever known. Immediately the preparations began
for a celebration – everyone awoke to welcome her home, a hot
bath was drawn, a feast prepared, and a soft bed lay waiting
in her well-lit bedroom. I felt as though there was a general
consensus in the room that nothing but the finest would do. At
that hour of the day it was nothing more than incredible to
see what was taking place inside the body of Christ – each
woman working to her own abilities to celebrate the return of
a sister. In the back of our minds we knew that tomorrow there
would be consequences for her actions, as laid out in a
previous agreement, but the sweetness of the moment washed any
thought of that away for now. Inside of me I knew this night
was for joy, for celebration, for love, and, above all, for
knowing grace.
I had never thought much about Jesus’ parable of the Prodigal
Son before (it had always been the Sunday school story taught
so many times that its meaning dried up before I could even
understand it; Luke 15:11-31). I suppose you could say it
never ‘clicked’ with me that the parable was about God’s grace
for sinners, but I began to understand as I watched it in
front of me in 3D action. The similarities that night between
Grace’s story and the Prodigal’s were strong: both had broken
the rules, both had done things they shouldn’t have, both had
felt the weight of their actions, both had wandered home with
broken spirits, but both were received by the open and loving
arms of a Father ready to forgive. Glory to God!
Of all that I learned that night about God’s grace, what
caught my attention the most was the element of surprise. As
revealed by our discussion the night before, my sister Grace
had certainly not expected a party thrown in her honour and a
warm welcome home. Neither did the Prodigal Son, who was so
full of shame he was prepared to offer himself as his father’s
servant (Luke 15: 18-19). However, in thinking about grace we
must also remember that it is not a lack of consequence, nor a
lack of accountability. Rather, it is an act of love in its
truest form. Beginning with the Father’s embrace, it is a
celebration of the lost being found and the dead being raised.
It is the surprise party for the sinner, and the imperative of
the gospels (Matthew 6:14,15; Matt. 18:35; Mark 11:25).
Just as our God is a God of grace, let us be a church of
grace, also. As we examine our hearts and forgive one another,
let us be so soaked in the grace of God that it overwhelms our
hearts and pours into our communities. Grace is surprising and
it is transforming. That night in Vancouver is one I am sure
never to forget. Since then God’s grace has been more real to
me than any other truth I know, and my prayer for you is
simple: may you always know grace.
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