Part 1:
Grace. It’s a word we hear often, but have we really stopped to think about what it truly means? We see grace played out in our lives in small moments, don’t we? Like when someone offers a hand when we’re stuck or when a friend forgives us after we’ve made a mess of things. These moments are expressions of grace, but they only reflect a faint glimpse of what God’s grace really is. When we begin to talk about God’s grace, we step into something beyond our understanding, beyond what we know or are capable of grasping. Grace touches every part of our lives: how we relate to God, how we treat others, and even how we see ourselves through His love.
At the heart of grace is this concept of unearned favor. The Hebrew word for grace, חֵן (chen), literally means favor or kindness that is freely given. Not because it’s deserved, but because of the giver’s heart. It’s not a transaction or something we can earn. Grace is a gift. Think back to a time when you messed up. Maybe you really hurt someone close to you or made a choice that seemed like it couldn’t be undone. In those moments, we know deep down that we don’t deserve forgiveness. And yet, grace shows up anyway. It’s not earned, but freely given. That’s what makes grace so powerful. It’s a reflection of how deep God’s love for us runs.
Even then, the grace we experience in our human lives is just scratching the surface of what God’s grace truly is. When we look at χάρις (charis) in the Greek, we encounter a word rich in meaning. It’s not just unearned favor; it’s also a transformative, life-changing force. God’s grace doesn’t operate under the same limits that we experience from people. His grace is limitless. There’s no line we can cross or standard we can reach that will make us “deserve” it any more than we already do. We can’t do anything to make God love us more or less. His grace is constant; it doesn’t stop being available, no matter how many times we mess up or how far we drift. It’s like an eternal, overflowing river of love, flowing with no end. Grace is God’s love in action; Him saying, “I see you. I know everything about you, and I love you anyway.” And the beautiful thing is, that His love was there before we even knew we needed it.
What’s truly incredible is that grace isn’t something we receive because of how well we perform. In a world where we’re taught to earn everything, our worth, our affection, our place, grace is the opposite of that. It turns everything upside down. We don’t have to do anything to prove ourselves or to earn God’s love. It’s not about who we are or what we’ve done, but about who He is, הָאֱלֹהִים (HaElohim), the one true God. He is love, and grace is simply a reflection of His nature.
Now, think about the small things in life… those little moments we often overlook, that are actually signs of God’s grace. Every breath we take, every heartbeat, every new day, it’s all grace. We’re alive, we experience beauty, love, and connection, and these are all expressions of God’s grace at work in our lives. We often take these things for granted, but when we stop to reflect, we see how deeply grace is woven into the fabric of our existence. The quiet moments, the beauty of creation, the love we share with friends—all these are signs that God’s grace is working in our world. Even when we don’t recognize it, grace surrounds us, pouring out from God without expectation of anything in return.
But the most powerful demonstration of grace is found in the life, death, and resurrection of יֵשׁוּעַ (Yeshua). In His sacrifice on the cross, He took on the weight of our sin, offering forgiveness for all our brokenness. This is the ultimate picture of grace. The cross is where grace is fully revealed, a love so deep that it endured pain, rejection, and death for our redemption. Jesus didn’t die for us because we earned it or deserved it. He did it because grace is His nature. And in His resurrection, we see that grace isn’t passive, it’s transformative. Grace doesn’t just forgive us; it empowers us. It gives us the strength to change, to forgive others, and to live in the freedom He offers.
But grace doesn’t stop with us. It’s not meant to be kept to ourselves. We’re called to pass it on, to share it with others. This creates a beautiful cycle: we receive grace, and then we extend it to those around us. And I’ll be honest, that’s not always easy. There are moments when it feels impossible to forgive, especially when we’ve been hurt deeply. But the truth is, just as God has forgiven us, we’re called to forgive others. Grace isn’t about having everything together; it’s about loving people, even in their mess, just as God continues to love us despite ours.
Grace doesn’t just help us forgive; it also gives us the strength to live the life we’re meant to live. Life can feel overwhelming at times, and when we fall short, it’s easy to feel like we’re not enough. But in those moments, grace is there to hold us up. It reminds us that we don’t have to carry the weight of the world on our shoulders. We don’t have to be perfect to be loved. God’s grace is more than enough, even when we feel weak. Grace is the strength that carries us forward, even when we don’t know what the next step looks like. It’s the power to heal, to grow, and to become the person God has called us to be.
Grace is so much more than just forgiveness for our past—it’s about transformation. It’s a fresh start, over and over. In 2 Corinthians 5:17, Paul tells us that in Christ, we are new creations. The old has gone, the new has come. That’s the power of grace, it doesn’t just clear the slate; it empowers us to live differently. Grace lets us walk in freedom, live with purpose, and reflect God’s love in everything we do.
Grace is simple, yet deeply profound. It’s everywhere, in both the big moments and the small. Whether we see it in the beauty of nature, in the forgiveness we experience, or in the love of Jesus, grace is what makes it all possible. It’s always unearned, always available, and always overflowing. Grace is the gift that saves us, and the power that transforms us. It’s meant to be shared. When we truly understand grace, it changes everything. It changes how we see God, how we see ourselves, and how we treat others. Grace is God’s love made real, and it’s a gift we’re meant to share with everyone.
Part 2:
Grace. It isn’t some modern concept that started with a sermon or a sweet song. It’s as old as the dust of Eden and runs straight through the heart of the covenant God made with His people. It doesn’t always come with a flashing sign that says “GRACE” in the ancient texts, but oh, it’s there, woven into every act of mercy, every extended hand, every time God held back His anger just one more time to let His people breathe again.
Even in the Aramaic portions of the Tanakh, those corners of Scripture that too many skip over, we see God’s heart laid bare. He’s not some cold ruler waiting for us to trip. He is racham, tender with compassion. He is slow to anger, overflowing with chesed, that covenantal kindness that never lets go even when we do. His mercy is not about what we’ve done right. It’s about who He is, steadfast, holy, and heartbreakingly faithful.
Just look at Nebuchadnezzar, of all people. A pagan king, arrogant to the skies, crushed by God, not out of cruelty, but grace. Grace that broke his pride to save his soul. After it all, this once boastful man lifts his eyes to heaven and says:
“Now I, Nebuchadnezzar, praise and extol and honor the King of heaven, for all His works are truth, and His ways are justice. And those who walk in pride He is able to abase.” (Daniel 4:37, Aramaic)
That’s not just a testimony, it’s a sermon. A sermon from the mouth of a humbled man who learned the hard way that God’s grace doesn’t always feel gentle, but it is always good. Nebuchadnezzar didn’t earn forgiveness. He received it. And God, in His mercy, let him keep breathing to tell the tale.
Grace like that is all over the prophets too. In Jeremiah, the weeping prophet, we hear God whispering a love that never ran dry:
“I have loved you with an everlasting love; therefore I have continued my faithfulness to you.” (Jeremiah 31:3)
Olam ahavah, an eternal love. Uninterrupted. Unbroken. You could leave, but He’d still wait. You could fall, but He’d still catch you. That’s not human. That’s divine. That’s grace.
Even when His people were scattered, bruised by their own rebellion, God never changed His mind about them. In Ezra, in the Aramaic tongue again, we hear a trembling confession from the remnant:
“O Lord God of Israel, you are righteous; we are left as a remnant, as it is today. Behold, we are before You in our guilt, for none can stand before You because of this.” (Ezra 9:15)
They stood there not pleading their case, but admitting their failure. And it’s right there, in the ashes of their sin, that grace showed up. Because grace doesn’t wait until we’re clean. It meets us in the dirt and says, I can work with this, if you’ll let Me.
The Psalms pick up that melody too. Oh, the Psalms! If there’s one songbook that sings about grace from beginning to end, it’s this one. In Psalm 103, we hear David say:
“The Lord is merciful and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love.” (Psalm 103:8)
Rachum v’chanun, merciful and gracious. This isn’t just poetic language. It’s the covenant heartbeat. That word chesed again, that sacred loyalty of love, isn’t just kindness, it’s fierce, unrelenting, covenantal. It holds us when we don’t deserve holding.
The Exodus story screams of grace. Over and over, they messed up. Over and over, He came back. When they built that golden calf, can you imagine the grief in God’s heart? And still, Moses stands in the gap and begs for mercy. And God says yes.
“I will forgive them as you have asked.” (Exodus 32:34)
Grace. Not just forgiveness, but forgiveness in motion. A God who relents from wrath because love overrules anger. A God who keeps His promises, not because we are worthy, but because He is holy.
And then there’s Isaiah, with his thunder and beauty. Listen to the voice of God Himself calling out through the prophet:
“Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow.” (Isaiah 1:18)
This isn’t a nice washing-up. This is a miraculous reversal. From scarlet to snow. From guilt to glory. From crimson to clean. Grace doesn’t just cover. It transforms.
This is what the covenant was always meant to be. Not a legal document, but a love story. A rescue mission. A holy pursuit. From Eden to Sinai, from Babylon to Bethlehem, grace has always been the thread that keeps the tapestry from unraveling.
And here’s the beautiful part. This grace doesn’t expire. It wasn’t a temporary deal just for Israel. It was for them, yes, but also for us. For all who come humbly, all who kneel at the mercy seat, all who dare to believe that a holy God still wants broken people.
Grace is free, but it’s not cheap. It cost Him everything. And it asks for everything in return. Not as payment, but as transformation. Because when grace truly touches your soul, you can’t stay the same. You don’t want to stay the same.
God’s grace is the invitation to step into the light and be remade.
So, if you’re reading this thinking you’ve gone too far, stayed too long, or messed up too bad, look again. Grace is still standing at the door. And the door? It’s still open.
The image is done by chatgpt at my direction