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The name itself is overwhelming.  It conjures up images of deep, booming voices, lightening flashing across the sky, hands big enough to make the world look like a marble, and fire flowing from the fingertips.  The thought of you stirs up all sorts of things inside my imagination, and yet You are indescribable.

You are, God.

In charge.  Without restraint.  Your words speak entire generations into existence.  Your breath created my life from nothing but dust.  Your imagination created star-filled nights, the sparkle in a girl’s eyes, and laughter.  You’ve created everything good, remarkable, and pure.  You’re responsible for everything that is right and perfect in this world.  You are Creator, and you’re good at Your art.

We are opposite.

My words too readily tear down, rather than build.  Like a childish brat, I’m only concerned about getting my way and getting what I want.  Sin rages inside me, like an unfettered and unrestrained hurricane.  I am responsible for everything that’s broken and falling apart in this world.  I am responsible because sin creates destruction and leaves a war-path of hurt, pain, and broken hearts.

Yet, You call me child.

God, You and I know that I’ve done nothing to earn Your favor.  Your grace is the difference maker.  You’ve silenced the hurricane inside me;  You’ve brought stillness to a spiraling out of control heart.  You’ve picked up the broken pieces and are making something beautiful out of the chaos.

You’re greatest masterpiece is what you do with the thrown away and tossed aside pieces of our lives and hearts.  

You’ve acted not in vengeance, nor out of pity.  You’ve acted not out of some compulsion to bless me because I’ve impressed You.  You’ve come to the rescue, You’ve acted out of a deep, remarkable, consuming love.  You’ve met my sins and bitterness and anger with nothing but grace.

As always, Your grace wins out.  May my life bring grace, for it’s the only thing worth talking about.