This free gift doesn’t give me the cheap creeps

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They love to say that the Gospel is free. Well, it is free. Like the free public clinic sitting at the corner of the street. Do they just mean the water?

It is free; and the man handing out gospel tracts know it.

It is free, but we don’t like free things too much.

Buy a macdonald kids meal and you’ll receive a ratty free gift that our kids are better off without. You would venture into trying that “free facial” but don’t these things come with a price at the end?

When you say “it’s free!”, we immediately conjure up a catch somewhere, and get the impression that the giver simply can’t wait to get rid of the freebies.

We’ve grown cautious and free is a dirty word.

So… in our minds a free public clinic is somewhat false advertising; and even if it was free… it’s for those who can’t afford it. And those tracts? Probably sandwiched with subscriptions that will never see the light of day.

I am wary of freebies. But this freebie, this one of gospel, grace and God… it gives me none of those cheap creeps.

In fact, there has never been another story in history that offers the most valuable thing in the world to its inhabitants so graciously, without any strings attached.

Unless there’s such a thing as a free massage chair, there isn’t another free gift that can change your life forever.

The gospel is free but it cost a certain someone everything. Angels and demons don’t even qualify for this offer. I have trouble believing I’ve won free truffle fries and now I’m supposed to believe God has paid my debt and I’m on my way to heaven? What atrocity is it that this grand gift doesn’t come with a price tag!

That free clinic over there? It cost a doctor’s money and passion. The tract distributor? His time and energy.

The free gospel? A set of three heavy rusted nails driven into fragility, precious blood to flow, and death; it cost the life of God.

“I won’t charge you by the number of times that you think you need to come for church services. Nor do I swipe from your spiritual credits when you sing worship songs half-heartedly. I don’t exact or demand for your suffering to then bless you. But there’s something I want, and that is for you to pay me…

Pay me the attention that I desire from My creation. That’s you. It’s your attention I want. Your smile, your thoughts on Me, songs of thanksgiving. I promise you that this journey doesn’t have to be free in the way the world sees it- its cheapened meaning. There’s nothing cheap about my love for you, nothing boring. It’s the richest journey you’ll ever take.”

It is the most expensive free gift of all.

What kind of a Giver would love like that?

The free gospel is unquantifiable grace; a million times over.

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I am Hole-ly but He loves me Wholly

My existence on earth has got plenty of holes (Sometimes black but mostly colourful).

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And everyday, the Lord takes time to fill in these empty crevices with His grace.

It can be in the form of an undiscovered verse in the bible suddenly illuminating me, a song with lyrics that break my saddened spirit, or a miraculous encounter which could not have been without the assistance of angels. A kind and warm word from a seemingly knowing stranger.

I am not altogether myself daily; I am not an automated being that can forever rest on the laurels of what worked yesterday. I am a human; and that indicates an ever changing nature of thoughts and feelings, irrelevant or relevant, damaging or not, good or bad.

I get assaulted by rude words and hurtful experiences, and sometimes I define myself by them.

These are the holes in my existence, and the Lord fills them in unfailingly day after day. Not all at once, but according to His highest willingness.

Everyday, I am confronted with many different graces, but at the heart of them all, is this: “I gave up my Son for you, will I not give up everything else that aligns to my dreams for you?

You are everchanging, my love is unchanging. You are weak, I am strong. You are care-full, I will bear those cares if you would cast them on me. I am the great Mountain, and I echo unending graces for My mountain sheep. I let you lie down in the best pastures, you just need to listen and rest in my promises. Nothing can separate us, and knowing this will make you bold in Me.”

And thus the cement is poured into another empty space; He is so sweet a perfector, so tender a Father and so kind a Saviour.

Have a lovely Sunday, friends :-)

Chance might just be a Creator

“Whether you explore the mysteries of the mineral kingdom, the vegetable or the animal, from the lowest to the highest, the marks of a well thought-out design confront you everywhere. Nothing has been left to Chance.” – E.W Kenyon

Have you ever wondered if the universe was created by mere chance?

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If so, Chance has a lot of explaining to do.

When the big bang happened, how and why did it shoot out a planet so unlike others? Little blue is different on all points from the rest of the planets. How did the potential for life end up upon one speck in the stardust-cranked universe? Earth would freeze and dissipate if the sun was a little further away. The magic of galaxies’ effect on earth would amaze us if we had the time to read about how they influence our seasons and atmospheric changes.

Or let’s go closer to home. The probability of water atoms coming together to form pure liquid water or for the atoms of a cat to come together to make it go meow instead of woof is so low that every time it happens it would be a miracle.

Our hair, body and everything inside us: are they so smart to know how to function at its optimum, to work so well with each other, attacking what doesn’t seem “of/from them”? How absurd is it that the brainless amoeba has the closest thing to immortality with its “divide me up” defense mechanism? God must’ve had some good laughs: “Immortality can be reduced to this – squirmy, translucent being – whatever immortality that man hankers after for is mirrored in this strange creature, one of the unlikeliest in all My creation.”

Chance, chance, chance. If anything, chance must’ve been more smart than stupid, for it to carry an entire universe that rely on each other interdependently and to create and care for 6 billion human beings and gazillions of creatures and vegetation with such micro-intricacy and skill.

Chance isn’t chance when it becomes this calculated. Did chance put the incalculable power of math, emotion, influence, intellect or musical skill into us, all of which are unheard of in animals and plants? Or stringed together the genes of ellen, robin and richard with their propensity to make people double over with laughter with facial expressions and some cleverly arranged words? Moreover, humans are all the same yet different in subtler ways – and isn’t that a tricky combination for chance?

I know there’s a lot more to explain in-depth, and still much to be discussed about science birthing the worlds, but I’m still for the notion that an Intelligent, Creative Creator lives. Common sense tells me that not everything can be explained away with science. There are just so many unmapped variables, unexplored miracles and spiritual encounters that science cannot reckon with.

Chance might just be a Creator…

and I’m not going to leave that to chance.