How Much Grace? Always More

We’d been unpacking boxes for a while on Tuesday after a frantic day of delivery on Monday to our new place in Sydney.

And of course we’d noticed that we were using Grace Removals.  Clearly we had a little chuckle at that.

But just when we are exhausted, and just when we realised we were nowhere near the end of the production line of unpacking, I noticed the slogan after the colon.

Grace: Always More

Gotta love that!  It’s been somewhat of a harrowing 12 months getting to this point: leaving family and friends; wondering if things with the new self-employment option will work out, grieving over leaving church and wondering how in our mid to late fifties we start again with a new bunch of Christians.

It has felt somewhat fraught. But there’s something about God’s grace. There’s always more. Always.

In the little things there is more grace.

There was more grace than I deserved when we turned up at our new rental and the broken down old van that had been parked in front of our house for two years, unlicensed, had somehow gone within the four days I was back in Perth. All that was left was a pile of leaves, paper and a few greasy stains

There was more grace than we expected when, after six hours of unpacking boxes and furniture, and the removals van doors were finally being closed for the last time by (slightly grumpy) Darren, (cheesy and cheerful Brett), and (arms-the-size-of-my thighs New Zealander) Tayo, that a crack of thunder rolled across the sky and the heavens opened up.  Not a minute before. Not a minute after.

Three hours of torrential rain and the leaves, paper and stains were washed down the road, leaving a Noah-like pristine environment. I promptly sent out a dove which came back with a Leichhardt quality flat white coffee in its beak. I saw the hint of a rainbow.

There was more grace as Jill and I bickered and tussled our way through the past week of moving from Perth to Sydney, emptying and cleaning one house and then filling and cleaning another.

More grace than we deserved with the offer of a car from a local rector if we needed it while our car was being transported.

We are told to be grateful for small mercies and we say we are. But generally we are not. And often our lack of gratitude for the small mercies is because the bigger ones fall off our radar.

The death of our Saviour in our place due to God’s great love. The infilling of his Holy Spirit to equip and empower us.  The timely word of prophecy/wisdom from a new friend who I did some work for the past week who encouraged me greatly.

It’s easy as we get older to reach a stage of entitlement and frustration when things don’t go our way. Or the way we perceive they should go. But if the past year has taught me anything it is that when gratitude and joy fall off the radar in my life, it is usually because I have forgotten the grace of God.

So as I unpack yet another box, and reach the bottom of it with yet another layer of scrunched up packing paper, I need to remind myself that the grace box always has more. You never reach the end of it. You can strain down to the end of the grace box and realise that it goes deeper than you could imagine.

James 4:6 reminds us that “he gives us yet more grace.”

Our God is not a grace removalist. His steadfast love/hesed/grace is new every morning.  Do you need to reach for his grace today in your life? If you are coming to him sin-sick, weary and worn, remember that there is always more.