Surprised

I cannot tell you how many time I have had some version of this conversation with a child at the end of a school day–

Me: You don’t need your coat on. It’s warm out. 

Kid: Yes I do. It’s cold. 

Me: It was cold this morning, but it’s gotten warm. I promise. I was just out there and it’s really nice out. 

Kid (still putting on the coat): But my mom sent me with a coat, so it’s cold. 

Me: Okay, well, you’re going to be hot out there. Because it’s warm. 

(I always like to have the last word, because I’m mature.) But these interactions got me thinking about grace.

Grace is receiving the very last thing that we expect, like an unexpectedly warm November afternoon. 

I’ve grown up in a church tradition that sings about God’s grace every week. And I still sometimes have moments where I realize I’ve been quietly layering on a little more protection for the storm of judgment that I suspect must be coming. Because surely I don’t deserve sunshine everyday. 

And maybe you come from a different background. Maybe you’ve been told your whole life that God is only going to rain on your parade. Or He’s a cold winter wind, judgmental, ready to strike you down the moment you fail. So you see what you expect to see. You see judgment and boredom and fear. 

But then God surprises us. And He isn’t striking us down and He’s not boring, He’s laughing. He’s laughing with joy over us. He’s pouring out love and warmth when we were pulling out sweaters and bracing for the winter storms. 

We can enjoy it. We can take off our coats and roll down our windows and let grace warm us.

Or we can ignore it. We can keep bundled up in our pessimism and tucked into our doubts. 

That’s always our choice. My prayer for you is that you will step outside and realize that grace is real. And grace is wonderfully, surprisingly warm.