If God’s grace is freely given, then why do we act like we have the authority to limit what we offer to others? Why do we hold back grace from people just because they don’t meet our unspoken standards? Why do we feel justified in hoarding something that we didn’t even earn or meant to keep to ourselves in the first place?
Grace found us when we were at our lowest, not when we figured everything out. It met us in secret sin, in silent struggles, in shame we carried quietly and privately. God didn’t wait until we healed or fixed ourselves to pour it out. He didn’t say, I’ll love you after you get it together. He loved us while we were still a broken mess.
Why are we so quickly to forget that when it’s our turn to give it? Honestly, we like the feeling of having the upper hand. It feels powerful to say that you hurt me, and now you have to earn my forgiveness. It feels safe to withhold grace, to guard ourselves, to protect our pride, to keep record. We dress it up as boundaries or discernment, but sometimes it’s just bitterness. Sometimes it’s control.
Sometimes it’s a wound we’ve nurtured so long, that we forgot what freedom really feels like.
But Jesus didn’t hoard grace, even when He had every right to. He didn’t hoard it from the ones who betrayed Him, denied Him, abandoned Him. He didn’t withhold it from the people who mocked Him as He bled.
He said, Father, forgive them, not after they repented or asked for forgiveness, but while they were still treating him like he was nothing.
That’s grace. Undeserved. Uncomfortable. Unfair. And yet, completely free. So who are we to measure grace with teaspoons when God pours it out as rivers?
We say we want to be like Jesus, but Jesus didn’t wait until people changed to offer grace. He gave it, and the grace itself became the thing that changed them.
We’re not called to be reservoirs of grace.
We’re called to be rivers, letting it flow through us. This means even when it’s hard. It also means even when it hurts, especially when it costs us our pride.
Grace is not ours to withhold. It was never meant to stop with us. It’s a gift we pass on, not a reward we hand out. Freely we’ve received and freely we must give.
