EXPERIENCING GRACE

I left work early so I could have some uninterrupted study time right before the final in my Youth Issues class. When I got to class, everybody was doing their last minute studying. The teacher came in and said he would review with us for just a little bit before the test. We went through the review, most of it right on the study guide, but there were some things he was reviewing that I had never heard of. When questioned about it, he said that they were in the book and we were responsible for everything in the book. We couldn’t really argue with that.

Finally it was time to take the test.

“Leave them face down on the desk until everyone has one and I’ll tell you to start,” our professor instructed.

When we turned them over, every answer on the test was filled in! The bottom of the last page said the following:

“This is the end of the Final Exam. All the answers on your test are correct. You will receive an ‘A’ on the final exam. The reason you passed the test is because the creator of the test took it for you. All the work you did in preparation for this test did not help you get the A. You have just experienced…grAce.”

He then went around the room and asked each student individually, “What is your grade? Do you deserve the grade you are receiving? How much did all your studying for this exam help you achieve your final grade?”

Now I am not a crier by any stretch of the imagination, but I had to fight back tears when answering those questions and thinking about how the Creator has passed the test for me.

Discussion afterward went like this: “I have tried to teach you all semester that you are a recipient of grace. I’ve tried to communicate to you that you need to demonstrate this gift as you work with young people.

Don’t hammer them; they are not the enemy. Help them, for they will carry on your ministry if it is full of grace!”

Talking about how some of us had probably studied hours and some just a few minutes, but had all received the same grade, he pointed to a story Jesus told in Matthew 20. The owner of a vineyard hired people to work in his field and agreed to pay them a certain amount. Several different times during the day, he hired more workers. When it was time to pay them, they all received the same amount. When the ones who had been hired first thing in the morning began complaining, the boss said, “Should you be angry because I am kind?” (Matthew 20:15).

The teacher said he had never done this kind of final before and probably would never do it again, but because of the content of many of our class discussions, he felt like we needed to experience grace.

Have you thanked your Creator today because of the grace you have experienced?

DO YOU LOVE ME?

One day, I woke early in the morning to watch the sunrise. Ah... the beauty of God's creation is beyond description. As I watched, I praised God for His beautiful work. As I sat there, I felt the Lord's presence with me.

He asked me, "Do you love me?"

I answered, "Of course, God! You are my Lord and Saviour!"

Then He asked, "If you were physically handicapped, would you still love me?"

I was perplexed. I looked down upon my arms, legs and the rest of my body and wondered how many things I wouldn't be able to do and thought about the things that I take for granted. I answered, "It would be tough Lord, but I would still love You."

Then the Lord said, "If you were blind, would you still love my creation?"

How could I love something without being able to see it? Then I thought of all the blind people in the world and how many of them still loved God and His creation. So I answered, "It's hard to think of it, but I would still love you."

The Lord then asked me, "If you were deaf, would you still listen to my word?"

How could I listen to anything being deaf? Then I understood. Listening to God's Word is not merely using our ears, but our hearts. I answered, "It would be tough, but I would still listen to Your word."

The Lord then asked, "If you were mute, would you still praise My Name?"

How could I praise without a voice? Then it occurred to me, God wants us to sing from our very hearts and souls. It never matters what we sound like. And praising God is not always with a song, but when we are persecuted, we give God praise with our words of thanks. So I answered, "Though I could not physically sing, I would still praise Your Name."

And the Lord asked, "Do you really love Me?"

With courage and a strong conviction, I answered boldly, "Yes Lord! I love You because You are the one and true God!"

I thought I had answered well, but God asked, "Then why do you sin?"

I answered, "Because I am only human. I am not perfect."

"Then why in times of peace do you stray the furthest? Why only in times of trouble do you pray the earnest?"

I had no answers, only tears.

The Lord continued. "Why only sing at fellowships and retreats? Why seek Me only in times of worship? Why ask things so selfishly? Why ask things so unfaithfully?" The tears continued to roll down my cheeks. 

"Why are you ashamed of Me? Why are you not spreading the good news? Why in times of persecution, you cry to others when I offer My shoulder to cry on? Why make excuses when I give you opportunities to serve in My Name?"

"You are blessed with life. I made you not to throw this gift away. I have blessed you with talents to serve Me, but you continue to turn away. I have revealed My Word to you, but you do not gain in knowledge. I have spoken to you but your ears were closed. I have shown My blessings to you, but your eyes were turned away. I have sent you servants, but you sat idly by as they were pushed away. I have heard your prayers and I have answered them all. Do you truly love me?

I could not answer. How could I? I was embarrassed beyond belief. I had no excuse. What could I say to this? When my heart had cried out and the tears had flowed, I said, "Please forgive me Lord. I am unworthy to be Your child."

The Lord answered, "That is My Grace, My child."

I asked, "Then why do you continue to forgive me? Why do You love me so?"

The Lord answered, " Because you are My creation. You are my child. I will never abandon you. When you cry, I will have compassion and cry with you. When you shout with joy, I will laugh with you. When you are down, I will encourage you. When you fall, I will raise you up. When you are tired, I will carry you. I will be with you until the end of days, and I will love you forever."

Never had I cried so hard before. How could I have been so cold? How could I have hurt God as I had done? I asked God, "How much do You love me?"

The Lord stretched out His arms, and I saw His nail-pierced hands. I bowed down at the feet of Christ, my Saviour. And for the first time, I truly prayed.

THE COORS TRIUMPH

On February 9, 1960, Adolph Coors III was kidnapped and held for ransom. Seven months later his body was found on a remote hillside. He had been shot to death. Adolph Coors IV, then fifteen years old, lost not only his father but his best friend. For years young Coors hated Joseph Corbett, the man who was sentenced to life for the slaying.

Then in 1975 Ad Coors became a Christian. While he divested himself of his interest in the family beer business, he could not divest himself of the hatred that consumed him. Resentment seethed within him and blighted his growth in faith. He prayed to God for help because he realized how his hatred for Corbett was alienating him from God and other persons.


The day came, however, when claiming the Spirit's presence, Ad Coors visited the maximum security unit of Colorado's Canon City penitentiary and tried to talk with Corbett. Corbett refused to see him. Coors left a Bible inscribed with this message: I'm here to see you today and I'm sorry that we could not meet. As a Christian I am summoned by our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, to forgive. I do forgive you, and I ask you to forgive me for the hatred I've held in my heart for you.


Later Coors confessed, "I have a love for that man that only Jesus Christ could have put in my heart."





James S. Hewett
Illustrations Unlimited
Tyndale House Publishers, Inc (1988)

FORGIVENESS

A letter written to a man on death row by the Father of the man whom the man on death row had killed: 

You are probably surprised that I, of all people, am writing a letter to you, but I ask you to read it in its entirety and consider its request seriously. As the Father of the man whom you took part in murdering, I have something very important to say to you. 

I forgive you. With all my heart, I forgive you. I realize it may be hard for you to believe, but I really do. At your trial, when you confessed to your part in the events that cost my Son his life and asked for my forgiveness, I immediately granted you that forgiving love from my heart. I can only hope you believe me and will accept my forgiveness. 

But this is not all I have to say to you. I want to make you an offer - I want you to become my adopted child. You see, my Son who died was my only child, and I now want to share my life with you and leave my riches to you. This may not make sense to you or anyone else, but I believe you are worth the offer. I have arranged matters so that if you will receive my offer of forgiveness, not only will you be pardoned for your crime, but you also will be set free from your imprisonment, and your sentence of death will be dismissed. At that point, you will become my adopted child and heir to all my riches. 

I realize this is a risky offer for me to make to you -- you might be tempted to reject my offer completely -- but I make it to you without reservation. 

Also, I realize it may seem foolish to make such an offer to one who cost my Son his life, but I now have a great love and an unchangeable forgiveness in my heart for you. 

Finally, you may be concerned that once you accept my offer you may do something to cause you to be denied your rights as an heir to my wealth. Nothing could be further from the truth. If I can forgive you for your part in my Son's death, I can forgive you for anything. I know you never will be perfect, but you do not have to be perfect to receive my offer. 

Besides, I believe that once you have accepted my offer and begin to experience the riches that will come to you from me, that your primary (though not always) response will be gratitude and loyalty. 

Some would call me foolish for my offer to you, but I wish for you to call me your Father. 

Sincerely,

The Father of Jesus 

I WILL FORGIVE YOU

It had been three years since Lisa last opened the box. A sudden move to Boston had kept her from packing it. 

But now that she was back home, she took the time to look again at the memories.
Fingering the corners of the box and stroking its cover, Lisa pictured in her mind what was inside.

There was a photo of the family trip to the Grand Canyon, a note from her friend telling her that Nick Bicotti liked her, and the Indian arrowhead she had found while on her senior class trip.

One by one, she remembered the items in the box, lingering over the sweetest, until she came to the last and only painful memory. 

She knew what it looked like - a single sheet of paper upon which lines had been drawn to form boxes, 490 of them to be exact. 

And each box contained a check mark, one for each time.
_____________


"How many times must I forgive my brother?" the disciple Peter had asked Jesus.  "Seven times?" 

Lisa’s Sunday school teacher had read Jesus’ surprise answer to the class. "Seventy times seven." 

Lisa had leaned over to her brother Brent as the teacher continued reading. "How many times is that?" she whispered. 

Brent, though two years younger, was smarter than she was. "Four hundred and ninety," Brent wrote on the corner of his Sunday school paper. 

Lisa saw the message, nodded, and sat back in her chair. She watched her brother as the lesson continued. 

He was small for his age, with narrow shoulders and short arms. His glasses were too large for his face, and his hair always matted in swirls. 

He bordered on being a nerd, but his incredible skills at everything, especially music, made him popular with his classmates. 

Brent had learned to play the piano at age four, the clarinet at age seven, and had just begun to play oboe.

His music teachers said he'd be a famous musician someday.

There was only one thing at which Lisa was better than Brent; basketball. They played it almost every afternoon after school.

Brent could have refused to play, but he knew that it was Lisa's only joy in the midst of her struggles to get Cs and Ds at school.

Lisa's attention came back to her Sunday school teacher as the woman finished the lesson and closed with prayer. 

That same Sunday afternoon found brother and sister playing basketball in the driveway. It was then that the counting had begun.

Brent was guarding Lisa as she dribbled toward the basket. He had tried to bat the ball away, got his face near her elbow, and took a shot on the chin. 

"Ow!", he cried out and turned away.

Lisa saw her opening and drove to the basket, making an easy lay-up. She gloated over her success but stopped when she saw Brent. 

"You okay?", she asked. Brent shrugged his shoulders. 

"Sorry," Lisa said. "Really. It was a cheap shot." 

"It’s all right. I forgive you," he said. A thin smile then formed on his face. "Just 489 more times though."

"What do you mean?" Lisa asked.

"You know...what we learned in Sunday school today. You’re supposed to forgive someone 490 times. I just forgave you, so now you have 489 left," he kidded.

The two of them laughed at the thought of keeping track of every time Lisa had done something to Brent. They were sure she had gone past 490 long ago.

The rain interrupted their game, and the two moved indoors. 

"Wanna play Battleship?" Lisa asked. Brent agreed, and they were soon on the floor of the living room with their game boards in front of them. 

Each took turns calling out a letter and number combination, hoping to hit each other’s ships.

Lisa knew she was in trouble as the game went on. Brent had only lost one ship out of five. Lisa had lost three. 

Desperate to win, she found herself leaning over the edge of Brent’s barrier ever so slightly. 

She was thus able to see where Brent had placed two of his ships, and quickly evened the score.

Pleased, Lisa searched once more for the location of the last two ships. She peered over the barrier again, but this time Brent caught her in the act. 

"Hey, you’re cheating!" He stared at her in disbelief.

Lisa’s face turned red. Her lips quivered. "I’m sorry," she said, staring at the carpet. 

There was not much Brent could say. He knew Lisa sometimes did things like this. 

He felt sorry that Lisa found so few things she could do well. It was wrong for her to cheat, but he knew the temptation was hard for her.

"Okay, I forgive you," Brent said. Then he added with a small laugh, "I guess it’s down to 488 now, huh?"

"Yeah, I guess so." She returned his kindness with a weak smile and added, "Thanks for being my brother, Brent."

Brent’s forgiving spirit gripped Lisa, and she wanted him to know how sorry she was.
It was that evening that she had made the chart with the 490 boxes. She showed it to him before he went to bed. 

"We can keep track of every time I mess up and you forgive me," she said.

"See, I’ll put a check in each box—like this." She placed two marks in the upper left-hand boxes.

"These are for today." Brent raised his hands to protest. "You don’t need to keep—" 

"Yes I do!" Lisa interrupted. "You’re always forgiving me, and I want to keep track. Just let me do this!" 

She went back to her room and tacked the chart to her bulletin board.

There were many opportunities to fill in the chart in the years that followed. 

She once told the kids at school that Brent talked in his sleep and called out Rhonda Hill’s name, even though it wasn’t true. The teasing caused Brent days and days of misery. 

When she realised how cruel she had been, Lisa apologised sincerely. That night she marked box number 96.

Forgiveness number 211 came in the tenth grade when Lisa failed to bring home his English book. 

Brent had stayed home sick that day and had asked her to bring it so he could study for a quiz. She forgot and he got a C.

Number 393 was for lost keys...418 for the extra bleach she put in the washer, which ruined his favourite polo shirt...449, the dent she had put in his car when she had borrowed it.
There was a small ceremony when Lisa checked number 490. 

She used a gold pen for the check mark, had Brent sign the chart, and then placed it in her memory box.

"I guess that’s the end," Lisa said. "No more screw-ups from me anymore!"

Brent just laughed. "Yeah, right."

Number 491 was just another one of Lisa’s careless mistakes, but its hurt lasted a lifetime.
Brent had become all that his music teachers said he would. Few could play the oboe better than he. 

In his fourth year at the best music school in the United States, he received the opportunity of a lifetime—a chance to try out for New York City’s great orchestra.

The tryout would be held sometime during the following two weeks. It would be the fulfilment of his young dreams. 

But he never got the chance.

Brent had been out when the call about the tryout came to the house. Lisa was the only one home and on her way out the door, eager to get to work on time.

"Two-thirty on the tenth," the secretary said on the phone. Lisa did not have a pen, but she told herself that she could remember it.

"Got it. Thanks." I can remember that, she thought. But she did not. It was a week later around the dinner table that Lisa realised her mistake.

"So, Brent," his mom asked him, "When do you try out?" 

"Don’t know yet. They’re supposed to call." Lisa froze in her seat. "Oh, no!" she blurted out loud. "What’s today’s date? Quick!"

"It’s the twelfth," her dad answered. "Why?"

A terrible pain ripped through Lisa’s heart. She buried her face in her hands, crying. 

"Lisa, what’s the matter?" her mother asked.

Through sobs Lisa explained what had happened. "It was two days ago...the tryout...two-thirty...the call came...last week." 

Brent sat back in his chair, not believing Lisa.

"Is this one of your jokes, sis?" he asked, though he could tell her misery was real. She shook her head, still unable to look at him.

"Then I really missed it?" 

She nodded.

Brent ran out of the kitchen without a word. He did not come out of his room the rest of the evening. 

Lisa tried once to knock on the door, but she could not face him. She went to her room where she cried bitterly.

Suddenly she knew that she had to do. 

She had ruined Brent’s life. He could never forgive her for that. She had failed her family, and there was nothing to do but to leave home. 

Lisa packed her pickup truck in the middle of the night and left a note behind, telling her folks she’d be all right.

She began writing a note to Brent, but her words sounded empty to her. Nothing I say could make a difference anyway, she thought.

Two days later she got a job as a waitress in Boston. She found an apartment not too far from the restaurant. 

Her parents tried many times to reach her, but Lisa ignored their letters. 

"It’s too late," she wrote to them once. "I’ve ruined Brent’s life, and I’m not coming back."
Lisa did not think she would ever see home again. But one day in the restaurant where she worked she saw a face she knew.

"Lisa!" said Mrs Nelson, looking up from her plate. "What a surprise!" The woman was a friend of Lisa’s family from back home. 

"I was so sorry to hear about your brother," Mrs Nelson said softly. "Such a terrible accident. But we can be thankful that he died quickly. He didn’t suffer." 

Lisa stared at the woman in shock.

"Wh-hat," she finally stammered. It couldn’t be! Her brother? Dead? 

The woman quickly saw that Lisa did not know about the accident. She told the girl the sad story of the speeding car, the rush to the hospital, the doctors working over Brent.

But all they could do was not enough to save him.

Lisa returned home that afternoon.
_____________
 

Now she found herself in her room thinking about her brother as she held the small box that held some of her memories of him. 

Sadly, she opened the box and peered inside. It was as she remembered, except for one item—Brent’s chart. 

It was not there. In its place, at the bottom of the box, was an envelope. Her hands shook as she tore it open and removed a letter.

The first page read:

Dear Lisa,
It was you who kept count, not me. But if you’re stubborn enough to keep count, use the new chart I’ve made for you.

Love, Brent.

Lisa turned to the second page where she found a chart just like the one she had made as a child, but on this one the lines were drawn in perfect precision.  

And unlike the chart she had kept, there was but one check mark in the upper left- hand corner. 

Written in red felt tip pen over the entire page were the words:
"Number 491. Forgiven, forever."

OUT OF DARKNESS

Jack took a long look at his speedometer before slowing down: 73 in a 55 zone. Fourth time in as many months. How could a guy get caught so often? When his car had slowed to 10 miles an hour, Jack pulled over, but only partially. Let the cop worry about the potential traffic hazard. Maybe some other car will tweak his backside with a mirror.

The cop was stepping out of his car, the big pad in hand. Bob? Bob from Church? Jack sunk farther into his trench coat. This was worse than the coming ticket. A cop catching a guy from his own church. A guy who happened to be a little eager to get home after a long day at the office. A guy he was about to play golf with tomorrow.

Jumping out of the car, he approached a man he saw every Sunday, a man he'd never seen in uniform.

"Hi, Bob. Fancy meeting you like this."

"Hello, Jack." No smile.

"Guess you caught me red-handed in a rush to see my wife and kids."

"Yeah, I guess." Bob seemed uncertain.

Good. "I've seen some long days at the office lately. I'm afraid I bent the rules a bit - just this once." Jack toed at a pebble on the pavement. "Diane said something about roast beef and potatoes tonight. Know what I mean?"

"I know what you mean. I also know that you have a reputation in our precinct." Ouch. This was not going in the right direction. Time to change tactics.

"What'd you clock me at?"

"Seventy. Would you sit back in your car please?"

"Now wait a minute here, Bob. I checked as soon as I saw you. I was barely nudging 65." The lie seemed to come easier with every ticket.

"Please, Jack, in the car."

Flustered, Jack hunched himself through the still-open door. Slamming it shut, he stared at the dashboard. He was in no rush to open the window. The minutes ticked by. Bob scribbled away on the pad. Why hadn't he asked for a driver's license?

Whatever the reason, it would be a month of Sundays before Jack ever sat near this cop again. A tap on the door jerked his head to the left. There was Bob, a folded paper in hand. Jack rolled down the window a mere two inches, just enough room for Bob to pass him the slip.

"Thanks." Jack could not quite keep the sneer out of his voice.

Bob returned to his police car without a word. Jack watched his retreat in the mirror. Jack unfolded the sheet of paper. How much was this one going to cost? Wait a minute. What was this? Some kind of joke? Certainly not a ticket. Jack began to read:

Dear Jack,

Once upon a time I had a daughter. She was six when killed by a car. You guessed it -- a speeding driver.

A fine and three months in jail, and the man was free. Free to hug his daughters. All three of them. I only had one, and I'm going to have to wait until Heaven before I can ever hug her again.

A thousand times I've tried to forgive that man. A thousand times I thought I had. Maybe I did, but I need to do it again. Even now. Pray for me. And be careful, Jack, my son is all I have left.

Bob

Jack turned around in time to see Bob's car pull away and head down the road. Jack watched until it disappeared. A full 15 minutes later, he too, pulled away and drove slowly home, praying for forgiveness and hugging a surprised wife and kids when he arrived.

HOW TO FORGIVE

One day a while back, a man, his heart heavy with grief, was walking in the woods. As he thought about his life this day, he knew many things were not right. He thought about those who had lied about him back when he had a job.

His thoughts turned to those who had stolen his things and cheated him.
He remembered family that had passed on. His mind turned to the illness he had that no one could cure. His very soul was filled with anger, resentment and frustration.

Standing there this day, searching for answers he could not find, knowing all else had failed him, he knelt at the base of an old oak tree to seek the one he knew would always be there. And with tears in his eyes, he prayed:

"Lord- You have done wonderful things for me in this life. You have told me to do many things for you, and I happily obeyed. Today, you have told me to forgive. I am sad, Lord, because I cannot. I don't know how. It is not fair Lord. I didn't deserve these wrongs that were done against me and I shouldn't have to forgive. As perfect as your way is Lord, this one thing I cannot do, for I don't know how to forgive. My anger is so deep Lord, I fear I may not hear you, but I pray that you teach me to do this one thing I cannot do - Teach me To Forgive."

As he knelt there in the quiet shade of that old oak tree, he felt something fall onto his shoulder. He opened his eyes. Out of the corner of one eye, he saw something red on his shirt.

He could not turn to see what it was because where the oak tree had been was a large square piece of wood in the ground. He raised his head and saw two feet held to the wood with a large spike through them.

He raised his head more, and tears came to his eyes as he saw Jesus hanging on a cross. He saw spikes in His hands, a gash in His side, a torn and battered body, deep thorns sunk into His head. Finally he saw the suffering and pain on His precious face. As their eyes met, the man's tears turned to sobbing, and Jesus began to speak.

"Have you ever told a lie?" He asked? The man answered - "yes, Lord."

"Have you ever been given too much change and kept it?" The man answered - " yes. Lord." And the man sobbed more and more.

"Have you ever taken something from work that wasn't yours?" Jesus asked? And the man answered - "yes, Lord."

"Have you ever sworn, using my Father's name in vain? " The man, crying now, answered - "yes, Lord."

As Jesus asked many more times, "Have you ever"? The man's crying became uncontrollable, for he could only answer - "yes, Lord."

Then Jesus turned His head from one side to the other, and the man felt something fall on his other shoulder. He looked and saw that it was the blood of Jesus. When he looked back up, his eyes met those of Jesus, and there was a look of love the man had never seen or known before.

Jesus said, "I didn't deserve this either, but I forgive you."

It may be hard to see how you're going to get through something, but when you look back in life, you realize how true this statement is. Read the following first line slowly and let it sink in.

If God brings you to it - He will bring you through it. Lord I love You and I need You, come into my heart, today. For without You I can do nothing