Grace, mercy and peace from God the Father and from Jesus Christ, the Father’s Son, will be with us in truth and love.–2 John 1:3
Life is idyllic in a (temporarily) empty nest. Thomas is 800 miles away, experiencing a mission trip in Houston. Olivia spent last night with a friend. Alyson is house-sitting for a lady. That leaves Penny and me here without the pitter-patter of little (or big) feet. If lights get left on, then it’s us who did the leaving on. We needn’t please anybody but ourselves at mealtime. I could get used to this.
On the other hand, life is nowhere near serene right now. Gas prices spike while the stock market tumbles. Mad cow disease has reappeared in Canada while the African political unrest monster, which had moved from Rwanda to Kenya now have headed south to Zimbabwe. Flood waters are receding along the Mississippi leaving the media to wring their hands over probable food price increases.In short, we’re doomed.
Let’s put things in perspective. The chances of any of us starving in the forseeable future are dim. That wasn’t the case when this letter was written. Life in the first century was uncertain even if you didn’t belong to a religious sect opposed by the greatest power then on the earth. That’s why a promise of grace, mercy, and peace meant so much then.
But who am I kidding? We need grace, we need mercy, and we need peace every bit as much as those Christians nineteen centuries ago. These words do not lie lifeless on the page. They do not simply mark meaningless opening passages to be skipped over before the important scripture comes. No. These words stand as a promise of grace, mercy, and peace to you and me.
When the kids return or when the news seems bleak or when my mind simply grows too cluttered, I must remember this threefold promise. I’m going to need it.