If you revisit all the beaches where you built sandcastles in the sun, chances are, you’ll never even find a one.
The constant pull of wash and wave reduces all the outposts where we once asserted sovereignty. Our turrets and our towers, our moats and battlements have long since lost the struggle to insist on what was never really ours.
And so it is as grace subdues the castles of our pride and self-assertion. The lovely, unrelenting rhythm of God’s kindness and His mercy overruns our fierce objections and erodes our staked positions. While we were sleeping at our stations, we were flooded by forgiveness, cracked and circled by repeated offers of redemption. And for many—all who acknowledge they are beaten—grace reclaims a life that always was the property of God.
Unless you build cement into your soul—unless you daily and deliberately refuse the pull of God’s unceasing love—you’ll yet surrender to the grace that outmaneuvers all our pride. With the apostle Paul, you’ll soon exclaim, “But I received mercy because I had acted ignorantly in unbelief, and the grace of our Lord overflowed for me with the faith and love that are in Christ” (1 Tim 1:13-14).
There is an hour for yielding crumbling fortresses to grace. Your hour has come. The tide is in.
Rejoice in what you used to fight.
And stay in grace.
—Bill Knott