Sometimes, watching people – observing transactions of love and grace – I catch glimpses of something I want. Of the person I want to be, of a lifestyle I want to live.

They are quick moments that zap me like static, moments I miss in high-D mode. Like running on a treadmill then accidentally touching the metal bar, I get jolted slightly.

Oh there it is. Yes, that. That I want.

A way of living that abounds with grace, that is not harsh, that does not make record of wrongs, that accepts and loves without measuring merit.

In moments like that I am made all too aware of a deep brokenness: unforgiving and demanding and angry…and guess what, terribly afraid…of not measuring up.

A frightful existence that demands running toward hitting the mark. Or die, die, die.

But these moments also awaken me to the possibility and availability of Restoration.

I don’t know how to describe this something I can’t quite grasp.

It is the sureness of Beauty. Gentleness. Goodness.

A stirring that longs to comprehend how deep, how wide, how long, how high….is the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge (Eph 3:19).

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