Presented by Lisa Bishop
As we get started in talking about grace, I want to take you back to a hot summer day in the mid-80’s as I was entering my mid-teen years. I still get flashbacks from my spiral permed hair that blew away all height restrictions with the backcombing and amount of Aqua Net hairspray I used, but I digress. On this particular summer day, I was in the driveway of my childhood home, excited to wash my dad’s 1979 Oldsmobile. Now I know that may sound weird, actually enjoying washing a car, but for a little bit of backstory, my dad loved cars. Growing up, I would see him take meticulous care of them by washing and waxing them on a pretty regular basis. A clean car made my dad really happy. So, I was eager to get out my bucket of soapy water and pull out the long green garden hose to make the boxy, brown, five-seater, top-of-the-line car shine.
I didn’t have my driver’s license yet and had never driven, let alone been behind the wheel of a car. So, my dad pulled the car out of the garage and parked it in the driveway for me to wash while he did some gardening in the backyard.
There I was, lathering up my dad’s Oldsmobile, rinsing it off, and using old bath towels to dry it until it glimmered. I was so proud and even happier to know this was something that would mean a lot to my dad. To impress my dad a bit more, I thought it would be cool if I not only washed the car, but I parked it all by myself in the garage. Now mind you, on the other side of the garage was my dad’s prized possession, a 1969 Firebird convertible. Gold, with a white top, in mint condition, and perfectly polished. You can see where this story is heading.
I got behind the wheel of this brown boat of a car, aiming to park it in the garage when instead, I nervously drove it into the left side of the garage door. In a panic, my foot hit the gas, and I swerved to the right. I had managed not only to dent the right side of the car, but also to side swipe my dad’s precious convertible.
I know you are probably wondering, “What were you thinking?” Well evidently, I was not thinking clearly. At that point, I was completely freaked out and scared to death to tell my dad what had happened. I was worried he would be really mad at me.
In my hysteria, I found my mom. When—in the midst of hyperventilating—I told her what had happened, she said, “Don’t worry! Everything will be just fine.” And we proceeded to walk to the backyard together to tell my dad. When I told him what happened I will never forget what he said. “I love you, Lisa. It’s just a car. We can get it fixed. You are more important to me than a car.” In that moment I expected to get what I deserved—a tongue lashing for my carelessness and a life sentence to my bedroom. But that’s not what I received at all. Instead, I was the recipient of something powerful. The powerful and impactful gift of grace.
The grace my dad extended to me that day did something to my mind and heart that forever left an impression. It taught me, amongst many things, to value people over possessions. My dad’s selfless act was based on his character. He saw how fearful and upset I was, and he chose to respond with mercy and kindness rather than erupt and be rash with his words. When he could have punished me, instead he lavished me with love.
The concept of grace can be hard to grasp but it was made tangible on that hot summer day in 1984.
Ephesians 1:3-8 tells us about the grace that has been given to us in Christ.
Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in the heavenly realms with every spiritual blessing in Christ. For he chose us in him before the creation of the world to be holy and blameless in his sight. In love he predestined us for adoption to sonship through Jesus Christ, in accordance with his pleasure and will— to the praise of his glorious grace, which he has freely given us in the One he loves. In him we have redemption through his blood,