Gushing Grace and Its Irreparable Damage

God who makes the sun rise,

And brings me another new day.

I wake this morning,

And I worship You.


God who chose for this day to be,

Long before it was.

God who planned and purposed this day,

Before ever there was time,

Or life in the world.


Long before the earth was,

You planned for this day to be.

And long before time began its breathing,

You wrote my name,

And You numbered my days.


And this day,

Was one of them. 

And when You looked out,

Across the expanse of eternity,

You saw this day,

And You said it was good.


You said yes to this day,

And You sculpted it.

Shaped and molded it into being,

By all the days that went before it.

And You are molding all the future,

By what happens here today.


And this day,

Which seems to my eyes,


And insignificant,

Is actually bursting with purpose,


And holy.


God who leaves nothing to chance,

But crafts even the minutia,

Of the smallest atom,

In the infinitesimal cell,

You have filled every inch of this day,

With meaning and purpose and life.


It’s moving with Your breath,

And teeming with Your truth,

And it’s rich with mysteries and beauty,


And infinitely deep. 


God who fills my life,

With the grace of today.

And my life is filled with this world today,

And with all the living,

That happens here.


My life is filled with faces,

And souls,

And moments.

My life is filled with so much living,

In so many places,

It’s bursting at the seams,

With meaning,

And purpose,

And good and holy,



God who wakes us,

And fills our lives with today.

And there’s this day that You’ve made,

And You’ve called it Today,

And You’ve given it to us,

And called it a gift,

And something important,

And laden with worth,

And significance. 


We cup our hands,

And we drop them into this deep pool,

Of today,

And it’s so infinitely deep.


We fill our hands,

And they overflow,

And the living water runs all over the side.

And we’re drenched in the eternal,

Of the temporal,



You fill our hearts,

And they overflow.

Running out of us,

And down our sides,

The ground around us drenches wet,

With grace.


We walk,

And the pool of grace within us,

Spills out all around us.

It splashes,

And streams,

And rushes out.


And we’re like a sink,

With the pipes burst,

And the water gushes out,

With a joyful ferocity.

And you can almost hear it laughing,

Like a giddy child,

Making a glorious mess.


And so Your grace just sort of,


And it keeps exploding.

And we’re left in the aftermath,

Of a water-damaged kitchen,

And we’re loving it.


We live,

Irreparably damaged,

By grace.


Never the same,

As we were before,

Grace saturation,

Now defines us. 


We explode with the overflow,

Like a burst water main,

Like a ferocious gushing,

Like a fountain welling up,

To eternal life. 


You are God,

And You give us this day,

And this is what You fill it with.


Grace like a waterfall.

Joy like an explosion.

Peace like a perfect paradise,

Where there is never evil,

Nor shortage,

Nor war.


You give us perfect peace.


The perfect peace,

Of being perfectly clean,

And perfectly known,

And perfectly near,

And perfectly loved,

By the perfect God. 


The perfect peace,

Of being brought near,

And being open and exposed and known,

To the all-seeing eyes,

Of the Almighty of heaven,


And having the One with the piercing eyes,

Wrap our souls in mercy,

And clothe our nakedness,

And declare us,

Thoroughly clean,

And accepted,

And children.


The perfect peace,

Of being perfectly before You,

And being perfectly known,

And accepted.


And now we come in,

And go out,

And find pasture.

And we live our lives,


In the presence and the communion,

Of the Living God.


To be able to stand before the Living God,

And be called clean,

And loved.

What could be greater peace,

Than this?


Having the Living God,

As an ally and a friend.

Being in the camp,

In the very tent,

Of the one and only,

Most High God,


The one who commands the skies,

And the seas,

And life,

And death,

And hell.


What greater peace,

Can there be?


Knowing I am known by You,

And that I know You,

And that I need fear nothing from You,

For You accept me,

As a child,

And call my soul,



What more in all the world,

Could I need,

Than this? 


And what have I to fear,

Knowing that the Living God,

Holds the keys,

Of Death and Hades,

And commands all the forces,

Of life on earth?


What could possibly,

Escape Your notice,

Or control?


And You are for me,

And You bend all of life,

Into Your will.

And so all that I touch,

And that touches me today,

Has passed through Your hands.

And You have chosen,

To give it to me.


And it has a purpose,

And a meaning,

And a holy,

Living in its veins.


Everything I touch,

And that touches me,

Is a holy thing.

For You are holy,

And I am holy,

And all that You give me,

Is for more holy,

And more good.


So what on earth,

Is there to fear?



When I confess Your name.


When I confess Your name,

Fear is exposed to my eyes,

For the silly and worthless thing,

It is.


And when I confess Your name,

I see You breathing everywhere,

And everything I touch,

Is holy. 


I confess Your name,

And I enter the throne room,

And I live in communion,

And I breathe in the good and true,

All around me like air.


You fill the world,

With glory and wisdom.

And if I will confess Your name,

I will plunge the depths,

And see Your face,

Written into the DNA,

Of all things.


I plunge deep enough,

And I see You written here.

And even the dirt that covers it all,

Is teeming with You.

And it’s right here for the touching,

And the seeing,

And the knowing.


Right here,

In front of my face,

Miracles of You.


And all my life I’ve lived among them,

And my very skin is made of holy dirt,

And why don’t I tremble,

At the nearness of Your presence?


As close as my own skin,

And the breathing in my lungs.

You whisper like the wind in my ears,

And I stop to consider it all,

And You come up on me fast,

Like a strong, sure friend,

Lying in wait,

To pummel me,

With a running bear hug,

Coming up from behind.


I stop and listen to the whisper,

And before I know it,

I’m thrust into a violent embrace,

Of exuberant grace.

And my heart leaps out of my chest,

With a vehement joy. 


God who fills my life,

With today.

What more could You give me,

Than this?


And how much grace,

And how much holy,

And how much fullness of heaven,

Is waiting for me in everyday,

And I miss it,

For my closed eyes.


Godliness with contentment,

Is great gain.

And how can you want for anything,

When every new day,

You get the High King of heaven,

And all His grace lavished,

Like an ever-flowing fountain?


And I think,

If we would just confess,

Who You are,

And what You’ve given,

Right here,

Contentment would be,

The only natural fruit.


When God gives you heaven,

Poured out on Your head,

Like a drenching downpour,

And when the Living God,

Brings you right into His Holy of Holies,

And calls you clean and loved,

How do you want for anything else?


When you have peace,

With the High King of heaven,

And you’re known and accepted and loved,

And every detail of your life,

Is planned out for good and holy,

How can you want,

For anything?


Right now,

Is holy.

And right here,

Is full,

And overflowing.


And what would happen to us,

And our world,

If we would learn,

To confess the fountain right here,

And just cup our hands,

And drink?


What would happen to our souls,

And to our world,

If Your children,

Would just know You,

And drink You in?


And if we were saturated,

And overflowing,

With the Most High God,

What would life,

All around us,

Begin to grow like?


How green,

And how fruitful,

Would our world,





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