"Joy inexpressible and full of glory." What could renew joy, and with such vigor? What could spur the writer to glide over his page afresh as a newly inspired artist returns to the easel from a long hiatus? And yet, with words brimming over at the edge of release, what could render any attempt at clarity meaningless? What could indwell in me a true and beautiful, yea violent, desire to pursue prayer all the more fervently? To incline me to cry out for each individual with whom I cross paths? And reveal my complete unworthiness? My inadequacy? My own lack of faith? My own redemption, even?
Oh, amazing grace it is! Sweet to the taste. Never ending. All satisfying. Grace that is fresher and truer than simple words uttered at a dinner table. Wider and deeper and beyond any legitimate attempts at expression, the Father's wealth of goodness falls on a desperate people. Cold and clean and crisp, his river satisfies the entire man. Washes clean the entire man. Purifies and renews God's man. Grace for His people; grace which He has lavished upon us. And I, like the unworthy apostle John, can only express to you what I have seen and heard, what I myself have witnessed, experienced, even imbibed.
For 10 months I have lived in Africa, forced to a crawl under the weight of Islamic reign. With an iron fist, it rules the culture, the people, the speech, and, five times each day, the air. This darkness pervades and ruthlessly invades. A deep, cold darkness. Darkness that, at its peak, can impress upon its observer a quality of endlessness. Amidst night's stagnant climax, an impenetrable shadow smothers the land as a cloak, the faintest hint of light a seeming impossibility. A giant which bears over me, he gawks and mocks and laughs at my minuscule attempts to shine and uncover his face.
But the Light has come into the world. And the Light shines in the darkness, and the darkness comprehends it not. Today I met a man who has stepped into this Light. No, I met him 10 months ago. For 10 months I have known this man. For 10 months I have talked with this man. Stopped by his work to see this man. Laughed and done business with this man. Fostered a friendship with this man. And yet this man, he was nothing more than another face to me.
One more small fish piddling in a sea of faces I had resigned myself to never seeing again after this life. People for whom I learned to have no hope. A people who taught me that God does not work. A people who have convinced me that darkness casts out the light as effortlessly as the police write up deportation papers. I was nearly convinced that darkness could effectively stomp out the light with the intimidation and torture tactics of the religious FBI.
The change has been slow and gradual, almost unnoticed by me. The enemy, he twists the truth. He hides from me the facts. He binds me, renders me useless. If only I could be set free! What can I do, I ask, to be set free? What can I change to be set free? What habits can I develop, patterns may I employ, what can I do, I ask? I seek to do, to change, to renew myself. But in one fell swoop, he has done it all. Apart from me, my plans, my strategies. He comes to me in grace. And with one utterly unexpected conversation, my world is once again turned on its head.
Finally I am not just talking about grace. For once, I am not limited to the cheap regurgitation of the phrases and teachings received from Sunday school, Theology 5100, or the latest John Piper sermon. This is not the grace that I have talked about. This grace has confronted me head-on. Grace that God reserves for the fiery trial. That bright and glorious fire that melts away everything displeasing. Grace He won't simply let me know about, no, grace I know, personally, in my own life, to a greater degree every day. It exudes from this smile I cannot wipe from my face, this joy I cannot contain, and these tears that I cannot explain. Tears that will not be held back. Tears that for 10 months were building to despair and hopelessness. But grace has come to me and my friend at just the right time. Grace is the air that I breathe. It is the sun that shines on me when I find myself lost again in the cold. It is the praise that comes to my lips when I am at my lowest low.
What has grace done for me? It has produced joy. Cultivated hope. Invigorated faith. Spurred love. Dealt with sin. Overcome the darkness. And come as the Overwhelming Conqueror.
No land is too dark, no people too hopeless for grace.
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