New and Better Stories

Imagine—only for a moment—your life without the grace of God.  Every foolish act of adolescence; every spiteful, angry word you’ve said; every broken relationship would trail after you like dragging cannonballs uphill. 

There could be no forgiveness, but only possibly forgetfulness.  All things wounded would never heal.  The sun would never rise on faith or hope or possibilities. 

But we rejoice that grace has come to us in Jesus—that our stories are forever changed for better.  So grace always opens into gratitude.  We celebrate a rescue we could never accomplish because of what Christ accomplished for us. 

And He ever lives—it is His joy—to intercede for us, to turn our painful histories into stories that will bless and lift the world. 

So stay in grace.

—Bill Knott

When There's No Fix

A husband slipping in the door with a bouquet of red roses trailing behind him.

A six year-old artfully arranging the remaining cookies in the jar to make it seem none have been taken.

A believer creeping quietly to church to sit in the back row and promise years of future faithfulness.

In our core, we hope to somehow appease those we have offended. We bring gifts; we rearrange the facts to diminish our responsibility; we promise to be better in the future. We assume that we won’t be welcome as we are.

But when we meet the God whose rightful expectations we have most offended, He is nothing like the angry deity we expected. “For this is how God loved the world: He gave His one and only Son, so that everyone who believes in Him will not perish but have eternal life. God sent His Son into the world not to judge the world, but to save the world through Him” (John 3:16-17).

This is the mystery of grace—that God doesn’t act on impulse or through vengeance, but plans to actively restore those whom sin and pride have separated from Him.  “God, in His grace, freely makes us right in His sight. He did this through Christ Jesus when He freed us from the penalty for our sins” (Rom 3:24).

We are amazed: we do not understand.  It’s not what we would have done to those who offended us. But then, God says of Himself: “For just as the heavens are higher than the earth, so My ways are higher than your ways and My thoughts higher than your thoughts” (Isa 55:9).

Grace restores what we can’t fix, and renews our lifeline to the God who deeply loves us.

So stay in grace.

—Bill Knott

Nothing to Offer

Taking the stairs instead of the elevator. Giving money to a homeless man at the corner. Choosing fruit instead of ice cream for dessert.

All good things—but none will change your standing with God.

Rising at 4:00 a.m. to pray and meditate. Attending weekly worship services. Contributing 10 percent of your income to the work of ministry.

All good things—but none will change your standing with God.

“For by grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God—not the result of works, so that no one may boast” (Rom 2:8).

The good things grace inspires us to do are not the things that save us. Our forever destiny is assured only by trusting in what Jesus has done for us by laying down His life to pay the penalty for our sins. “But God proves His love for us in that while we still were sinners Christ died for us. Much more surely then, now that we have been justified by His blood, will we be saved through Him from the wrath of God” (Rom 5:8-9).

So what good thing may we do to ensure our happiness both now and forever? “Jesus answered them, ‘This is the work of God, that you believe in Him whom He has sent’” (John 6:29).

Grace calls us to receive the gift we cannot earn. Our acts of love are simply tokens of our praise.

So stay in grace.

–Bill Knott

Wordwise

Hot words, cold words. 
Red words, blue words.
My words, your words. 
Old words, new words.   

Every day we arrange the 25,000 words we know in unique and highly personalized combinations. With words, we express deep sorrow and loss, as well as shining hope and love. We describe the past with words that show how different it was from our day, and we even invent new words to imagine futures for which no current words will do. 

Words are the building blocks of thought; the scribbled bits of genius on a page; the last, despairing expressions of those who have lost hope.  

And so, among the many figures in the mind of God, He entered human experience through the very language we employ: “And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen His glory, the glory as of a Father’s only Son, full of grace and truth” (John 1:14).  

In Jesus are united the two great words we find impossible to keep together—“grace” and “truth.” In God’s unbounded vocabulary, we can be both fully known and fully loved.  And He always has the last word. 

So we stay in “grace and truth.”

—Bill Knott

Below the Surface

When we add all our compliments to all the things we wish were true, there’s still so much we’re glad the world doesn’t know. 

Deep within, we know the truth about the real lives we live—the tempers that we can’t control; the people we’ve tried to control; the passions that seem far beyond control.  Our hearts are heavy with indictments. We break our vows; we hurt our friends; we fail to do the good we could. 

“There is another power within me that is at war with my mind. This power makes me a slave to the sin that is still within me. Oh, what a miserable person I am! Who will free me from this life that is dominated by sin and death?” (Rom 7:23-24).  

And from the vast abundance of His grace, the Father speaks to our distress. “I will give you a new heart, and I will put a new spirit in you. I will take out your stony, stubborn heart and give you a tender, responsive heart” (Eze 36:26).  

The promise of new life—within—brings all God’s goodness to us.  We cannot save ourselves, and Jesus loves to save us. We cannot fix ourselves, so He rebuilds what pride and lust have broken.  

Grace meets the fears we cannot speak, the brokenness we sought to hide, the self-accusing words we use to motivate ourselves. God’s heart of love will heal us yet. 

So stay in grace.

–Bill Knott

Beyond Self-Help

When we reduce our belief in God to moral tasks we should accomplish, we merely add another tedious volume to our unread self-help library.  

Praying for the sick; giving to the poor; exercising patience with exasperating colleagues; forgiving those who badly use us—these are all lovely behaviors—and of no lasting value without grace.   

The gospel isn’t an invitation to set our moral house in order, but a declaration that Jesus left His eternal home to live with us, die for us, rise for us, and—one day soon—return for us. “God was in Christ, reconciling the world to Himself, no longer counting people’s sins against them. And He gave us this wonderful message of reconciliation” (2 Cor 5:19).  

Before we lift a broken finger, or give a soiled bill, or try to move beyond our hatred for those who have abused us, we must hear the gospel’s kind yet thundering announcement:  “For by grace you have been saved through faith, and this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God—not the result of works, so that no one may boast” (Eph 2:8-9). 

Grace is what God has done. Gracious is what we may yet become —through grace.

So stay in grace. 

–Bill Knott

Grace Among the Hours

When hard rain rattles the window panes three hours before unwelcome dawn; when the first thought of the day is no brighter than the last thought hours before; when the staleness of unchangeable routine offers only more of the same, more of the rain—grace renews the mind. 

When we dread the icy comments in the cubicles or at the frozen water cooler; when the anger seethes while helplessness makes our haggard hearts grow cold; when the best thought of the day is that it will finally be over—grace renews the mind.  

Redemption isn’t only for those starlit hours when grand and beautiful change starts happening to us. God’s grace accompanies us in hundreds of quite ordinary hours when children fret and spouses quarrel and nothing in our world advances our fond hopes for love or comfort or success. 

And so the gospel urges and invites: “Let God transform you into a new person by changing the way you think. Then you will learn to know God’s will for you, which is good and pleasing and perfect” (Rom 12:2).

Grace is for all hours, all challenges, all rainy days. There is no moment when God’s goodness and affection isn’t gladly, fully offered to us, for us, in us. “His peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus” (Phil 4:7).

So stay in grace.

—Bill Knott

Healed—and Healed Again

So let’s admit it: we are afraid because bad things have happened in our past, and everything in us shudders at ever being hurt again. Life’s all about negotiating risk, we say, and so we bravely sanctify our fears with strategies to hide the dread that we might end unloved and all alone.

But Jesus says, “My grace is enough for you” (2 Cor. 12:9)—enough for all our hidden wounds and public failures, enough for all the times when we’ve concluded that we can be either well-loved OR well-known, but never both. 

Grace is a healing antidote to fear, repairing and rebuilding whatever sin has poisoned, blighted or corroded.

The worst that can be said of us turns out—amazingly—to be a gorgeous anthem to God’s never-ending, always-reaching love.

So stay in grace.

—Bill Knott

Gathered by Grace

Whenever broken lives start mending; wherever someone is set free; when the barriers get lifted and the desperate hear good news, hope for new community is born. 

Frightened people long for holding. Lonely people seek for friends. Those whose story was forgotten want a place they can be heard. Grieving persons pray that someday they may learn to laugh again. 

In God’s kindness, mercy moves us toward the others saved by grace. What we need, their stories give us: what they need, our hands can bring. 

 “Dear friends, let us continue to love one another, for love comes from God. Anyone who loves is a child of God and knows God” (1 John 4:7).

Sin demands our isolation: grace invites us to a circle where we gain and give, and give and gain. Gathered ‘round us are the people who will hold us as God holds us. 

Find the circle you were meant for. Find the love that gives you hope. 

And you will stay in grace. 

—Bill Knott

Choosing Grace

Our hearts are subtle and mysterious realms, swept over by the storms of grand emotions. Why is it that the same offensive words from the lips of a friend can be more easily forgiven than when uttered by a person outside the orbit of our love?

Love holds within it the quality of grace, both when we receive it from the Father, and when we extend it to His children. God chose to love us “while we were yet sinners”—to extend His grace in spite of our offensiveness. But we routinely show that grace to only those who love us in return.

The difference lies in God’s amazing decision to love the entire world as though we had always been His friends. He sovereignly declares that all His children can also be His friends because of Jesus’ sacrifice: “For this is how God loved the world: He gave His one and only Son, so that everyone who believes in Him will not perish but have eternal life” (John 3:16). “God was in Christ, reconciling the world to Himself” (2 Cor 5:19).

Can loving God expand the orbit of our love? How do we learn God’s graciousness for those who never earned our care—or even wounded us in spite?

We pray for God’s own love to take from us our stony hearts, and give us His great, principled affection for those who still offend us. God’s daily miracle of grace gives each of us—and everyone—the fullness of forgiving love.

So stay in grace.

Good for All

Does fear sometimes persuade you that you aren’t eligible for the gospel’s promises of peace and restoration? Consider then, the vast variety of souls who found God’s grace when they weren’t looking for it. 

A Jericho prostitute. A leprous general. A corrupt tax collector. A woman desperate for a child. A cultured religious leader. A demon-tortured wretch who gashed himself. A dying thief. A cheating king. 

The list goes on and on, encompassing men and women in every imaginable life situation—the wealthy and the poor; the aged and the children; the slaves and those who imprisoned them; the doubting and the faithful; the obedient and those who broke God’s law with wild abandon. 

“For God has revealed His grace for the salvation of all people” (Titus 2:11). 

The Bible is, above all else, a story of hope for broken, wounded, foolish folks like us. We were the people sitting in darkness on whom new light has dawned. “In Christ was life, and the life was the light of all people” (John 1:4). “God showed His great love for us by sending Christ to die for us while we were still sinners” (Rom 5:8). 

Grace tells us that we’re loved. Love teaches us to hope. Hope gives us wings to fly to faith. Faith coaxes us to trust in grace. 

So stay in grace.

—Bill Knott

Responsible Grace

We say our greatest wounds come from the hands of others. The parent who denied us love; the boss who took the credit for our work; the spouse whose teasing made us cringe—the dirge called “People Who Have Done Me Wrong” is at the top of every playlist. Behind each failure, so we say, there’s someone else responsible.

But God’s Word calls us to admit our greatest sorrows grow from the choices that we’ve made. We nursed our wounds; we hurt our friends; we shut our ears to conscience. We spoke untruths; we weaponized our words; we’ve reenacted all the spite we ever got from others.

“You who judge others do these very same things,” the Bible says (Rom 2:3). “For everyone has sinned; we all fall short of God’s glorious standard” (Rom 3:23).

Grace helps us see what we’ve refused to see: “Do you not realize that God’s kindness is meant to lead you to repentance?” (Rom 2:5). The grace that calls us to account shows us the way to full and free renewal: “If we confess our sins, He who is faithful and just will forgive us our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness” (1 John 1:9).

A new, forgiven life awaits. Don’t miss it for the world.

And stay in grace.

—Bill Knott

Dying to Forgive

It’s hard enough to admit mistakes when gripped by the conviction we’ve done something wrong. Our crippling pride protests the humbling of our hearts. It’s harder still when those to whom we should confess make doing so protracted, cold, or shameful.

And so we usually delay in saying what we must—we postpone joy; prolong our reconciliation—because we judge that God is like that irascible uncle or overbearing boss who makes confession difficult. We imagine that a righteous God must want to see us grovel.

But Scripture shows a Father running to embrace His long-lost son; a wounded lover continually forgiving unfaithfulness; a Saviour eager to restore, renew, and heal. “For God was in Christ, reconciling the world to Himself, no longer counting people’s sins against them” (2 Cor 5:19).

Truth is, the Father is more eager to forgive than we are to ask His pardon. His grace flows from abundant and tenacious love: “God sent His Son into the world not to judge the world, but to save the world through Him” (John 3:17).

We miss the Father’s joy when we don’t trust His heart. We squander days that could be bright with happiness and hope. So why delay in telling Him the things you need to say? He knows them all before you speak, and loves you anyway.

Now stay in grace.

—Bill Knott

Grace and Clarity

“Never mind.” “Forget about it.” “No worries.” “Don’t mention it.”

We say the oddest things when someone apologizes for what they’ve said or done. You’d think from our replies that nothing serious had happened—that we weren’t, in fact, hurt, damaged or offended. We sound as if forgiveness is a great, gray fog that smothers facts and erases memory.

But God never does. God listens carefully when our hearts are stirred to make things right, for clarity is the bedrock of His grace. “If we confess our sins to Him, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all wickedness” (1 John 1:9).

Grace never pretends that wounds didn’t happen or that our broken, foolish choices don’t matter. Jesus was “wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities; upon Him was the chastisement that made us whole, and with His stripes we are healed” (Isa 53:5).

And so the grace of God sees clearly, forgives swiftly, and restores fully. “O Lord, You are so good, so ready to forgive, so full of unfailing love for all who ask for Your help” (Psa 86:5).

The Father’s eyesight never fails. And neither does His love.

So stay in grace.

What It Means to Be Held

Grace is no bubble—beautiful but fragile—momentarily hovering—and covering—the story of our separation from the Father. 

Forgiveness isn’t offered just to give us light and hope, even though it always ends in joy and wondrous dreams.  No, grace is strong the way a father’s grip is strong—muscle strong, sinew strong, unyielding and unwilling to let go. 

The love you cannot earn is also love you cannot lose, for He has never yet allowed one outstretched hand to slip His grasp.  God has pledged Himself in language He cannot—will not—disavow:  “I have loved you with an everlasting love,” He says; “therefore I have continued my faithfulness to you” (Jeremiah 31:3). 

Though life is full of fragile things, God’s grace is never one of them. 

So stay in grace.

As Gentle as Grace

As we learn grace, we also learn its gentleness.

When we mistakenly believed that we could win eternity by toil, we had no patience with mistakes—our own, or those of others. We feared—and judged—all brokenness, as though severity might illustrate our fitness for the kingdom. If it was difficult, then it was good.

But then the Lover of our souls announced His grace while we were mired in our sins—while we were, in His word, “undone.”  “God proves His love for us in that while we still were sinners Christ died for us” (Rom 5:8). Our foolish self-redemption project becomes, at last, the task that makes both men and angels softly laugh. We learn, at last, as the apostle wrote, “Christ is all” (Col 3:11).

The kindness Jesus offers us becomes the gentleness we offer others.  In time, we learn how to repent of all that isn’t grace.

So stay in grace.

Don't Trust Your Heart

“But I don’t feel forgiven.”

Millions every day confront the gap between God’s promise to forgive their sins and the relentless guilt that drives them to despair. We trust the truth of our emotions elsewhere: why not here as well?

But a gracious God wouldn’t allow our forever to hang upon the slender thread of changeable—and whimsical—emotions. We love pasta on Tuesday, and don’t ever want to see it again by Friday. We adore a particular shade of green, only to despise it one week later.

Just as it was necessary to trust God’s Word that we were sinners and separated from Him—even when we didn’t feel like sinners—so it’s crucial that we trust God’s Word that we have been forgiven when we place our trust in Jesus—even though we may not feel forgiven.

The apostle John learned this truth from Jesus: “By this we shall know that we are of the truth, and reassure our hearts before Him whenever our hearts condemn us; for God is greater than our hearts, and He knows everything” (1 John 3:19-20).

We don’t activate God’s forgiveness by the intensity of our devotion or the alignment of our emotions: we aren’t that powerful. “Redeemed” is His objective declaration of our actual standing before Him when we claim Jesus as our Saviour.

We are embraced by grace before we love; when we can no longer sing; even when we are still wrestling with our fears.

So stay in grace.

Unlisted

Why is it we love lists so much—for diets, muscles, marriage, money—even friendships?

 “Six Things You Should Never Eat.” “Eight Stretches You Can Do at Home.” “Five Ways to Fireproof Your Marriage.” “Three Best Investments for Recession.” And even “Ten Ways to Know if Friends Are Talking Behind Your Back.”

We want what’s big and daunting in our lives reduced to things we can accomplish. We cling to our illusion: each new list will simplify our lives; we can recapture lost control. We crave the magic of past centuries without the stardust and the spells. Aladdin’s cave should open when we master “Four Ways to Memorize Your Passwords.”

But all that’s deeply valuable in life can’t be reduced to numbered lists—love; faith; eternity; serenity; and joy. When the crowd once asked Jesus, “‘We want to perform God’s works, too. What should we do?’ Jesus told them,  ‘This is the only work God wants from you: Believe in the one He has sent’” (John 6:28-29).

Grace is irreducibly amazing—rich and complex, full and free. Any faith that elevates its lists of obligations above receiving God’s affection has missed the point of Jesus. “This is how God loved the world: He gave His one and only Son, so that everyone who believes in Him will not perish but have eternal life” (John 3:16).

Trust God to get it right. And stay in grace.

—Bill Knott

You've Got a (Graceful) Friend

When you have the chance, choose friends who breathe the air of grace. 

Grace doesn’t make them better golfers, but you’ll want their gentleness when you earn that triple bogey on the 8th. 

Grace doesn’t make friends wise or witty, but they’ll know to put an arm around you when you’re hurting or discouraged, for God has laid His hands on them. 

Grace doesn’t turn friends into counselors, but they can lead you through forgiveness when you’ve blown it big and can’t see daylight up ahead. “For God was in Christ, reconciling the world to Himself, no longer counting people’s sins against them. And He gave us this wonderful message of reconciliation” (2 Cor 5:19).

Grace doesn’t give conversation skills, but they’ll stay with you—and not let go—when others would go running for the exits. They’ve heard God say in seasons of deep loneliness: “I have loved you with an everlasting love; I have drawn you with unfailing kindness” (Jer 31:3).

Friends who live the grace of God bring hope and kindness on the journey. Keep choosing them. 

And stay in grace. 

—Bill Knott

Present and Continuous

If concerts lasted 60 days, the audience would be smaller than the band. If a book took 40 years to read, almost no one would ever finish it.

We want the distillation of a life, not the whole story. We’re looking for the summary, not the entire sermon. We’re addicted to the sound bite, not hours of video outtakes.

And so we speak of grace as an event, even a moment, that can be captured, imaged, even timed. “I got saved at 7:23 pm last Tuesday.” “God turned my life around in 20 minutes during lunch.”

Yet grace is frequently a long and gentle process in our lives—at least a season, often a decade, sometimes an orbit of 50 years. We celebrate the moment of insight; heaven counts the long and winding road that led to now—a thousand times the sad trajectory of our lives was turned so quietly by love.  “And we all, with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being changed into His likeness from one degree of glory to another; for this comes from the Lord who is the Spirit” (2 Cor 3:18).

The “grace that saved a wretch like me” is simply that moment we became aware of what God has been doing in our lives for seasons and for years. Grace is always present and continuous. Through Christ, we are both “saved” and “being saved,” for grace has no terminus—no end—for those who trust in Him.

So stay in grace.