The state of contentment usually lingers when it comes, soothing away doubts and concerns and uncertainties and lulling me into a half-conscious delirium in which everything is all right for now and responsibilities are slid casually off to the side. It wraps me up like a blanket, hiding me from everything that is real and frightening, and while I am huddled in its protection I think I like being there, because nothing can permeate through and hurt me. The world without my contentment blanket seems bleak and stark and uncomfortable, so I simply hide inside of my safety and pretend like the world isn't there.
But then it comes, somehow softer and more calming than the contentment itself: a voice that prompts me to come out from under the covers. The moment I do, two things happen simultaneously: first, the weight of my whole world comes crashing into me at maximum velocity, and second, I am infused with a strength and power with a magnitude unlike anything I have ever known. This power far outweighs the force of my collision, and the crushing might that used to frighten me half to death suddenly seems infinitely bearable.
I can sense that this power is so much greater that the already strong part of it that courses through me. My desire to hide beneath my blanket of blind comfort is quickly overtaken by a desire to know this power, to let it change and transform me until it becomes an inseparable part of who I am, overruling my will and desires and fears, replacing them with a character handcrafted for me by Him who knows me better than anyone.
The part of me still afraid, still petrified in the face of the world cries that it will be dangerous, risky, frightening, but I know in my heart of hearts that such a power as this cannot lose to any other force, no matter how much simpler or smaller it may seem. I know this because this power, in varying degrees and contexts, has transformed me before--given me courage in the face of fear, the ability to speak out when surrounded by tantalizing silence, peace in the presence of boundless noise, love in the place of selfishness. When others talk of grace, I cannot pretend to know exactly what it is to them, but to me, grace is this power, that coaxes me out of hiding, that fills me with the confidence that I can become like my Savior and gives me the will and strength to do so. Its purpose is change, and grace has and does and will ever continue to transform me, making me into the sort of disciple the Lord does and will always need.
