The temperature was perfect. The sun was shining, and the sky held bleached clouds that contrasted the sapphire blue backdrop. The breeze was just enough to brush the hair out of my face without needing a jacket.
Perfection.
She was six years old with skin that mimicked that of a porcelain doll. Long, brown hair flowed down her back that reached her elbows with a daisy hair clip to hold the hair out of her eyes. She wore a long, satin white shirt that barely allowed her soft, pink shorts to show. I was reminded of a young girl dancing in a sunflower field without a care in the world, arms wide open, and the sun reflecting off her face. She followed her older brother everywhere; the two were inseparable. Their relationship reflected a friendship: pure, loving, and trusting.
They sat across from each other, legs intertwined with a pole between them on a circular disc that spun around. He was pushing with his leg to gain speed as his sister enjoyed the ride. As she leaned back, she shut her eyes basking the moment. Her arms locked tight to the pole, her back parallel to the ground. Her hair flowed with the wind as freely as her spirit.
Peaceful, beautiful, and eloquent.
Fearless, confident, and free.
She was reflecting God and His grace. She was mirroring the way God sees us, and the way God loves us. God’s love is comforting, freeing, and all consuming. It’s living, abundant, and protective. It’s raw and it’s real. It’s the way a sister trusts her older brother. It’s the way the moon reflects the sun. It’s indefinable.
His grace is mighty, empowering, and overwhelming. It’s healing, restoring, and fulfilling. If His grace is an ocean, than we’re all sinking. We’re flooded by His grace. He isn’t bribing us with His grace. It’s free, and it’s available. It’s constant. His grace is sufficient.
